#like usually we have cups to carry it home in but I forgot em this year and my hands were fine

[miazeklos]

Happy Easter, folks!

#Easter #photography #again that tag is for me etc etc #took this at 1 am last night #this is the Jerusalem fire and for the first year I'm noticing that it really doesn't burn #like usually we have cups to carry it home in but I forgot em this year and my hands were fine

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

[gamergirl929]

You Never Lost Me (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Can you do a sonnett imagine where she is the love of the readers life and they are dating but sonnett isnt as in love as the reader and they break up because the reader doesnt want to hold her back but then sonnett realizes what shes missing

This is a pretty long one folks, but pleaseeee enjoyyyy! 

"I mean, we’re seeing where it’s going.”  

The words sent a spear through your heart, the thing that skipped a beat when you saw her hazel orbs had been torn in two by the very owner of those hazel orbs.   

It was after that day that you started to realize maybe Emily wasn’t as in love with you as you were in love with her.  

It became PAINFULLY aware when the two of you had made plans to go out to dinner and Emily had flaked, deciding to go out on the town with your teammates instead of spending time with you, something that tore your heart into absolute shreds.  

And when she posted photos on her Instagram of her and the teammates out, all smiling happily you didn’t think your heart could take much more.  

“Whoa, where are you going?” Christen asks as you slip from your hotel room, your head down.  

“Out.”  

Christen’s brows furrowed as she watched you go, Tobin making her way towards her.  

“What’s going on?”  

Christen shakes her head.  

“I don’t know.”  

                                                             ***

Later that night they find you at the hotel bar, passed out on its surface, a number of shot glasses gathered around you.  

Tobin carries you upstairs, shaking her head.  

“Where the hell is Em?”  

Christen frowns.  

“Out with the others...”  

Tobin sighs.  

“She can stay with us tonight then...”  

                                                             ***

Emily hadn’t even realized you were gone, not even taking the time to send a text to you, to try to find out where you were.  

“Did you even care that I was gone?” You asked, tears in your eyes and Emily sighs.  

“I just forgot to text you, that’s all.”  

The blonde had left after that, leaving you alone in your hotel room, throwing an “I’m heading to the mall with Linds and the others” over her shoulder before the door clicks shut.  

Your head hangs in sadness, tears slipping down your cheeks. 

                                                             ***

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Mallory asks, confused and Emily shrugs.  

“She’s at the hotel.”  

Lindsey’s eyes narrow, her blue orbs darting from Mallory, to Rose, and to Sam, the three looking as equally confused as her.  

“Em...” Mallory swallows hard, the blonde stopping in her tracks.  

“Yeah?”  

“You do realize Y/N is your GIRLFRIEND, right?” Lindsey asks, and Emily shrugs.  

“I mean... I-I know.”  

Rose shakes her head,

“You’re not acting like it.”  

Emily scoffs.  

“I mean of course, I like her.”  

Sam’s eyes widen.  

“Like?” She asks, Emily’s eyes widening as she stares at the sidewalk.  

“Shouldn’t it be love?” Mallory asks, the corner of Emily’s mouth drooping down. 

“It should be... I mean it is for Y/N...” Emily mumbles, Mallory, Rose, Sam and Lindsey looking at her in shock.  

“It’s not for you?” Rose asks, a simple shake of Emily’s head making them all frown.

“Maybe you should tell Y/N...” Lindsey places a hand on Emily’s shoulder, the blonde shaking her head.  

“I don’t want to hurt her, I like her...” She frowns, Lindsey shakes her head again. 

“You’re actively hurting her, by stringing her along Em.”  

Emily sighs, head hung in shame.  

“You’re right...”  

Emily leans against a nearby wall with a frown.  

“She loves me so much and I want to love her just as much but...”  

“But you can’t?” Mallory asks, earning a simple head shake.

“I want to... I care about her we’re just, not on the same level...”  

Lindsey cups her cheeks, holding her face so she can look into her hazel orbs.  

“You need to tell Y/N that, before it’s too late, before you break her heart even more.”

Emily nods.  

“I will.”  

                                                             ***

The second Emily steps into your joined hotel room, she realizes it’s devoid of any and all of your belongings.  

“Wh-What?” She stammers when she sees you holding your suitcase, your eyes bloodshot from not only lack of sleep, but from the many tears you shed that day, pouring your heart out to Tobin and Christen, the two veterans listening intently as you spilled your guts out.  

“What are you doing?” Emily asks, a lump forming in her throat at the sight of your sad Y/E/C eyes.  

“I’m going to stay with Tobin and Christen...” You sniffle, shuffling from foot to foot, your eyes on the carpet beneath your feet.  

“But why?” Emily asks, taking a step towards you, her hands trembling when you take a step back.  

“You don’t feel the same way for me as I do for you...” You mumble, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I can’t put my all into something and only get back half... Well, not even half.” You shake your head, tear filled hazel orbs locking with your Y/E/C ones. 

“Y/N, listen...”  

You shake your head.  

“I’ve been listening to you, listening to you telling reporters you were, ‘just seeing where this went.’” You motion between the two of you.

“Ple-

“Listening to you tell me we’d go to dinner, and then going out with the others instead...”  

Emily’s bottom lip trembles, replaying each and every scenario in her head, imagining how you must felt every time you watched her walk away from you.  

“Just tell me...” You take a deep breath, a pit forming in your stomach.  

“Do you love me...?” You ask, tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes dart around Emily’s red face, tears sliding down her cheeks.  

Emily’s mouth opens and closes a few times before her head hangs, the woman shaking her head.  

You nod, making your way towards the door.  

“That’s all I needed to know.”  

The door slams shut behind you and Emily shakes her head, slowly walking over to sit down on the end of the bed, burying her face in her hands.  

Emily knew she had to let you go, she knew, but that didn’t make her feel any better, the heartbroken look in your eyes tearing her heart in two.  

In all honesty, she felt as if she deserved it, knowing that she must’ve tore your heart into shreds every time she walked away. 

Every time she told reporters the two of you were simply seeing where it was going 

She had to let you go. 

You deserved to find someone who would reciprocate those feelings, and that wasn’t Emily. 

                                                             ***

Tobin and Christen welcomed you with open arms, the women holding you as you sobbed into their chests, each and every night, lulled to sleep by their kind words and gentle ministrations, the two doing their best to keep you away from alcohol which had become your best friend after the break up.  

The two had been your saving grace when the season had ended, the two offering you a place to stay with them, considering Emily had to move to Florida anyway.  

You didn’t see her the day she left, you didn’t want to, knowing that if you did, you’d turn back to the bottle again something Christen and Tobin were keeping you FAR away from.  

Hiking and meditating with Christen became a must, one of your favorite past times along with painting with Tobin, something you found you were really good at.  

Soon, Emily Sonnett was the furthest thing from your mind, still, she wormed her way in, pictures of her face on Instagram making your heart crack all over again. 

But each and every time Tobin and Christen were there to pick up the pieces.  

Each and every time, they made you whole again.  

                                                             ***

In Florida, Emily couldn’t say the same thing.  

The woman’s new found home wasn’t exactly homey, Alex, and Krashlyn had of course been welcoming, but still, something was missing.  

The blonde thought MAYBE that something was a love life, but each and every date she found her tolerance for each and every man and woman dwindling.  

Each and every date Emily couldn’t help but say to herself; well if it was Y/N, she would’ve gone out of her way to make me laugh, or if it was Y/N, she would’ve pulled the chair out for me and held the door open for me, or at least offered to pay for dinner.  

Soon dates were utterly intolerable and Emily couldn’t bear to go on another.  

The blonde couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting to you, wanting to know how you were doing, what you were doing, even surfing Instagram in search of posts you’ve made.  

Alex, Ashlyn and Ali couldn’t pull her out of her funk, the three Orlando Pride players deciding to call in reinforcements in the form of Lindsey Horan and Kelley O’Hara.  

“Alright, where is she?”  

Emily’s ears perk up at the sound of a familiar voice, the woman briefly hoping, foolishly, that you would be with her, but of course, there was no way that was in the realm of possibility.  

The blonde couldn’t help but jump to her feet when not only the usual Orlando Pride players made their way inside, but Lindsey and Kelley as well.  

One look at the group and her bottom lip started to tremble, the woman throwing herself into Kelley and Lindsey’s embrace.  

“I miss her. I miss her so much.” She sobs, Lindsey and Kelley’s hold on her tightening.  

“It’s gonna be okay.”  

“Maybe you should give her a call?” Kelley asks, and Emily shakes her head.  

“She won’t talk to me...” She swallows hard and Lindsey hums.  

“She and Christen are on a hike today, maybe Tobin will?”  

Emily shrugs.  

“Maybe.”  

                                                             ***

“Hey.” Tobin answers the FaceTime call, even through the tiny screen noticing the bags under Emily’s eyes.  

“H-How are you doing?” She asks, and Tobin smiles.  

“Pretty good, I never knew I could enjoy art so much...” She grins and Emily smiles softly, a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.  

“How’s Christen...?” She asks and Tobin hums, taking a swig of something Emily can’t see.  

“Chris is great, she’s out with Y/N right now, we just got the rest of her stuff in her studio down the hall, she’s really happy to have her own place, but you know Chris and I liked to have her close so we can make sure she doesn’t start drinking again.” Tobin shrugs, Emily’s eyes widening.  

“What do you mean drinking?”  

Tobin’s eyes widen, as she glances away.  

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” Tobin winces. “Look, I can’t tell you, that’s Y/N’s business, but she’s better now, Chris and I have been helping her through it.”  

Emily nods, swiping at something on her face, something Tobin can’t see is a tear.

“Can you just... Keep an eye on her for me? Please?” She asks and Tobin nods. 

“Of course.”  

                                                             ***

It’s weeks later when Emily sees your face, though not in the way she wants to see you, it’s through her phone’s screen.  

“What does this one mean?” Tobin asks, the woman throwing an arm around your shoulder, the two of you staring at the painting hanging on the wall in front of you.  

Emily watches as you study the painting, the woman smiling at the thoughtful look on your face.  

“Forgiveness.” You state simply, Emily’s eyes widening, hazel orbs filling with tears.  

“Moving on.” You nod, turning to Tobin in the video, the woman ruffling your hair before she throws her arms around you, Christen joining in on the hug before the video ends.  

Emily is in literal tears.  

She knew what moving on went.  

You’d moved on from her.  

And that was her own fault.  

                                                             ***

Emily woke with a groan, an annoying knocking at her apartment door making her snarl.  

The glare she sends the apartment manager is deadly the woman clearing her throat when she realizes who it is. 

“Rough night?” He asks and she nods.

“Rough week.”  

“Package was too big for your box.” He holds the large box up and Emily’s brows furrow.  

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it.” She shrugs and the man nods.  

“It’s alright.”

Emily doesn’t even realize the man’s gone, her eyes zeroed in on the package’s sender.  

“Y/N...” She whispers, kicking the apartment door shut behind her, and sprinting to the table, tearing the box open as she goes.  

Emily’s eyes widen the second she sees the box’s contents, her hands trembling as she holds the painting she’d seen days ago.  

“What does this one mean?”  

“Forgiveness. Moving on.”  

Tears stream down Emily’s cheeks as she stares at the painting, her hands shaking as she holds the canvas, staring at what looks like a bright landscape, the sun rising over a darkened meadow.  

“Moving on...” She whispers, fingers running across the painting, imagining you taking your time, panting it with her in mind.  

It’s then she sees the envelope out of the corner of her eye, sitting neatly in the bottom of the box. She takes it in her hand, smiling when she realizes you didn’t lick the envelope shut, the woman grinning when she sees what you’d written on the underside of the envelope’s flap.  

I didn’t shut the envelope; I know how much you hate tearing envelopes open :P

Emily shakes her head, tears slipping down her cheek as she opens the letter.  

                                                             ***

You stretch, staring down at the busy city below a cup of something Christen had INSISTED on you drinking, something that rejuvenated you AND in Christen words...  

Gave you nutrients that you were lacking in your diet.

Tobin, of course, had been quick to agree.  

A sudden crack of thunder makes you jump, and seconds later it’s as if a bucket of water is dumped on Portland, a bucket that is never ending.  

You stand there, watching the rain fall, hoping it’ll taper off soon.  

“Looks like we aren’t hiking today...” You mumble under your breath, a knock on your apartment door sounding the second after the words leave your mouth.  

You sigh, making your way towards the door, tugging in open.  

“Yeah, I know hiking is-

You stop mid-sentence, your eyes widening when you see that it’s not Christen standing behind the door, but Emily Sonnett.  

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, your eyes darting around her face, purple bags prominent beneath her eyes, the woman soaked from head to toe.  

One look into your Y/E/C orbs and Emily bursts into tears, the woman throwing her arms around you, your arms slipping around hers.  

Emily buries her nose in your neck, her hold on you tightening.

“I missed you so much…” She whispers and you sigh, letting the words you’d been holding back since you last parted spill out.

“I missed you too.”

                                                             ***

“You forgive me...?” Emily whispers as you hand her a mug of cocoa, something Christen didn’t know you had, but if it was up to you, she wouldn’t ever find out.  

You take a seat on the opposite couch, taking a deep breath, your eyes locking with Emily tired hazel orbs.  

You nod.  

“Look... I can’t fault you for...” You stiffen, your eyes fluttering shut as you steel your nerves. 

“For not loving me like I loved you back then... You can’t make someone love you.” You shrug, missing the way Emily’s hazel orbs fill with tears. 

The blonde takes a deep breath before moving to her feet, your eyes wide as you watch her take a seat beside you.  

“I miss you Y/N... As... As my best friend.” Emily glances away, her heart aching in her chest as the words leave her mouth.  

You smile softly, eyeing Emily’s profile, the woman fidgeting nervously.  

“I want that back Y/N...” She turns towards you with tears in her eyes, tears that are reflected in your own.  

You nod.  

“I do too.”  

A sudden knock sounds on your apartment door and you stand.  

“Probably Christen telling me that our hike is cancelled.” You smirk, shaking your head, Emily’s hazel orbs on your back as you head towards the door.  

The blonde smiles softly, her fingers drumming on the mug in her hands.  

She was ready to see what being back in your life entailed for the two of you.  

                                                             ***

It’s shocking how easily you and Emily fell back into place, like two puzzle pieces slotting back together.  

Emily had even been staying with you for a while, the two of you catching up with each and every aspect of one another’s life.  

Except, there was one topic the two of you had noticeably avoided.  

And that was the topic of relationships.  

“So uhhh...” Emily clears her throat and your brows knit in confusion.  

“Hmmm?”  

“Have anyone special in your life?” Emily mumbles and you chuckle, shaking your head.  

“Honestly, no, I’ve been too busy with Chris and Tobin, I haven’t really had time to get out there.” You shrug.  

“What about you?” You ask as you sip another drink Christen had, YET AGAIN, insisted you’d drink.  

Emily scoffs.  

“All the dates I went on were literally, so painful I mean nothing like-

Emily stops mid-sentence, her eyes wide.  

“Nothing like, a real date should be.” She rushes out, cheeks flushed and you hum.  

“Just didn’t click?” You ask, sipping your drink, your brows furrowing when something, you don’t know what, slips down your throat, your face scrunching up.  

Emily grins, the beaming smile making her hazel orbs shine, her heart skipping a beat in her chest.  

“Yeah, we just didn’t click.”  

                                                             ***

The two of you were inseparable, Emily taking part in the things you’d been doing with Christen, the defender QUICKLY realizing that meditating wasn’t her thing. When it came to doing things with Tobin, IE, painting, she preferred to just watch you and Tobin work, the blonde grinning at the look of pure concentration on your face.  

“They could stand there for hours.” Christen flops down beside Emily on the couch, the two watching you and Tobin with a smile.  

“I wouldn’t have the patience for it.” Emily shrugs, sipping her mug of coffee.  

“Yeah, I mean you nearly die when we go hiking.” You smirk, Tobin letting out a lengthy snort.  

Emily spits and sputters, rolling her eyes.  

“I do not.”  

“You nearly fell down the cliff we were on.”  

Emily’s eyes narrow.

“I slipped! Sue me!”  

Emily’s eyes widen when you walk over, literally slapping a bit of white paint on her face with a toothy grin.  

“You did not just do that...” She wipes the paint off her face with her palm, staring at you with wide eyes.  

Within a millisecond Emily is on you, the white paint you’d put on her face, now on YOUR face.  

Tobin and Christen flop down on the couch, watching as the two of you have a proverbial, ‘paint war’ though you’re sure to keep the floors clean.  

It’s when paint splatters on your painting that you both freeze, Tobin and Christen’s eyes wide as you turn to your painting.  

“Y/N...” Emily starts, brows knitted in confusion when you grin.  

“THAT’S IT.”  

Emily’s eyes widen when you give her cheek a kiss and slide up to the wall, Tobin leaping over the coffee table to stand beside you.  

Hazel orbs widen as they watch you work, a smile stretching across their owner's face as she watches you lips split into a massive grin.  

Emily’s eyes widen when she feels the flapping of butterfly wings in her stomach, her face paling.  

“Uh-oh.”  

                                                             ***

Emily had tried to deny what she’d begun to feel for you, but she couldn’t when the butterflies which had lay dormant in the pit of her stomach began flapping their wings at the mere sight of you.  

“What’s eating you?”  

Emily jumps at the sound of Lindsey’s voice, she, Emily, you, Tobin and Christen deciding it was perfect weather to take a hike to a nearby cliff that overlooked a body of water.  

“N-Nothing.”  

Tobin lets out a scoff from where she’s walking ahead of the two of them, the brunette glancing over her shoulder.  

“Sonn, that was the least convincing thing I’ve EVER heard...”  

Emily blows a raspberry at her, grumbling.  

“Shouldn’t you be with Christen?”  

Tobin turns around with a pout, best puppy dog eyes on display.  

“She and Y/N left me...”

Emily pouts.  

“It’s okay Toby, you can join us.”  

Before she can join the two though, they hear a shout.  

“Tobin where are you!?”  

Tobin sends them a grin, shrugging before she races off, following Christen’s voice.

“COMING!”  

                                                             ***

Eventually they reach the top of the cliffs, the two blondes panting heavily, you, Christen and Tobin eyeing them with massive grins.  

“How are your cheeks not even red?” Emily asks, her cheeks blood red as she pants.  

You hand her your cold thermos of water, the woman eagerly, and greedily swallowing a few mouthfuls before she hands it back, at least tries to before Lindsey’s bottom lip juts out.  

“Take it.” You nod to the thermos, Lindsey grinning as she downs the rest of the thermos’s contents.  

You make your way to the edge of the cliff, taking in the beautiful landscape before you, the water shimmering beneath the suns glow.  

Soon, Emily joins you standing at your side as the two of you looking over the horizon, unaware that your three teammates are smiling, their eyes on your back as Lindsey takes a stealthy photo of the two of you.  

Tobin’s eyes widen when she sees the two of you turn towards one another, smiling softly at each other, smiling at one another in a way she hadn’t seen before.  

She, Christen and Lindsey all share a glance, the three coming to the realization of what the look in not only Emily’s eyes, but your eyes must mean.  

                                                             ***

You kick your feet up, yawning as you throw back whatever it was Christen had handed you, letting out a lengthy sigh.  

“Good?” She asks and you nod, humming.  

“Good.”  

“Do you just drink whatever she hands you?” Emily asks as she sips her juice and you shrug.  

“I trust her.”  

Emily leans towards you, your brows furrowed as she sniffs your cup, her face scrunching up, nose crinkled.  

“It reeks...” She mumbles, a pillow appearing from out of nowhere and smacking her in the face.  

“It’s healthy.” Christen chastises as she falls onto the other couch, beside Tobin. 

“Be careful, she’ll have you drinking it too.” Tobin shrugs and Emily grimaces.  

Lindsey flops down on the other side of the couch beside you.  

“What? Her drinks are good, and they give me so much energy.” She shrugs, Emily gasping.

“She’s gotten you too...” She whispers, moving towards the door, her eyes wide and you snort.  

“If you leave now, you’ll miss dinner.” You shrug, the defender humming before she moves to sit back down beside you.  

“You have my attention.”  

                                                             ***

Dinner meant you, Tobin, Christen, Lindsey and Emily going into a nice restaurant, which meant, not dressing like a bunch of sewer rats.  

Emily hums, peeking over your shoulder, her stomach rumbling.

“Please tell me you still eat like a bear.” She whispers, glaring at Christen. “Or has she been starving you?” She whispers and you snort.  

“She doesn't know I have a stash of Oreos at home.” You whisper behind your menu and Emily grins.  

“Now THAT’S what I’m talking about.”  

The waitress gives you all a kind smile, taking your dinner and drink orders before she leaves the table.  

Emily turns to you, a brow arched.  

“Again, color me surprised.” Emily hums and your brows furrow.  

“Hmm?”  

“You didn’t get any alcohol.”  

Your eyes widen, as do Tobin’s and Christen’s, the two knowing full well why you hadn’t ordered a glass of your usual jack and coke.  

You clear your throat, sipping your water.  

“Just wasn’t feeling it today.” You shrug, Emily hums, her hazel orbs narrowed.  

“Ye-Yeah, sure.”  

You take a swig of your water, taking a deep breath.  

You knew you’d have to tell her the truth, to tell her what happened after the two of you had parted. You jump at the feel of Emily’s arm slipping around your middle.  

Hazel orbs lock with Y/E/C orbs and Emily smiles.  

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” She grins, a grin that makes your heart skip a beat in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach flapping their wings.  

“Thanks, Em, I appreciate it.”  

                                                             ***

The second you return to your studio apartment you kick the door shut behind you, turning on your heels to find Emily standing behind you a worried frown on her face.  

“Before I tell you, I want you to promise me that you won’t blame yourself...” You mumble, Emily’s hazel orbs widening.  

“Wha-

“Promise me Em.” You whisper, the blonde blinking rapidly before she nods.  

“I-I promise.”  

You take a deep breath, pulling her towards your balcony, the two of you leaning on the rail, overlooking the city.  

You’re unable to look at Emily as you begin to speak.  

“After we broke up, I uhhh, I wasn’t doing well...” You mumble, glancing down at your shuffling feet.  

Emily can feel a lump growing in the back of her throat as she watches you fidget.  

You inhale sharply when she scoots closer, her hand resting on top of yours that’s resting on the balcony’s railing.  

“Tell me Y/N, I want to know.” She whispers and you nod, swallowing hard.  

You take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering shut.  

“I started drinking... Even before the season ended...”  

Emily’s eyes slam shut, images of you staggering on field, Tobin and Christen at your side to steady you standing out prominent in her mind.  

“Chris and Tobe were there for me the entire time, I was spiraling...” You stare at your feet, unable to look at the woman who still has a hold of your hand.  

“When we came back to Portland I... As you know I went to live with them...” You turn towards Emily, eyes glassy with tears.  

“That’s why I didn’t see you when I left... I didn’t want to relapse, I’m sor-

Emily shakes her head, cupping your cheeks, ridding them of tears you hadn’t realized had started to fall.  

“Don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head, gently caressing your cheek. “Please.”  

You sigh, leaning into her touch.  

“Okay...”  

Emily’s hands slip from your cheeks, the woman scooting closer until her head meets your shoulder, you lean over, your head resting on hers.  

“Tobin and Christen kept me in line, it wasn’t always easy, but when I started spending more time with them, hiking, painting, I felt more like myself, soon alcohol was the last thing on my mind.”  

Emily nods, her heart aching in her chest.  

She’d done that to you.  

She put you in a place you almost never came back from.  

“Listen, Em.” You slip an arm around her, pulling her close. “Don’t blame yourself...” You whisper, the blonde shaking her head.  

“How can I not?”  

You take a deep breath.  

“You weren’t in love with me...” You shrug. “You couldn’t help it, and I understood...”

Emily turns her head, her forehead resting against your cheek.  

“I never stopped caring about you.” She whispers, her lips brushing cheek making your heart stutter in your chest.  

“I never stopped caring for you either Em... We just...” You swallow hard, the words crawling up your throat leaving a sour taste in your mouth.  

“We just weren’t meant to be together in that way.”  

At the confession, the first of Emily’s tears streak down her cheeks, the woman sniffling as she closes her eyes.  

The words feel like venom in her mouth, the taste of bile on her tongue.  

She nods.

“You’re right.”  

You turn towards Emily, wrapping your arms tightly around her, pulling her close. 

Emily’s nails scrape against the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as you hum, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering their wings.  

You did your best to ignore them.  

                                                             ***

“Em, wait... Please...” You shake your head, watching as tears steam down the blonde’s face. She shakes her head.  

“I can’t Y/N, I think it’s best if we just stay away from each other... I’ll see you at camp.” She says solemnly, slipping out of your apartment, and out of your life.

                                                             ***

“Y/N! WAKE UP!”  

You sit up with a gasp, head on a swivel as you take in your darkened apartment.  

“E-Em?” You rasp, the blonde taking a deep breath.  

“Jesus. Finally, I couldn’t wake you up you’re a-

Suddenly, you lunge at her, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the blonde’s arms slipping around you.  

“Hey, it’s okay...” She whispers and you shake your head.  

“No, no, you left, and you didn’t want anything to do with me and I just-

Emily shushes you softly, her hazel orbs fluttering shut as her hands run gently down your back.  

“It’s okay Y/N, I’m here...” She whispers, tears streaming down your cheeks as you bury yourself in her embrace, hiding your face in her neck.  

Emily sighs, tightening her hold on you.  

“I’m here Y/N, I’m not going anywhere...” She whispers and you sniffle, pulling back to look in her tear-filled hazel orbs.  

“Promise?” You whisper and Emily smiles softly, cupping your cheeks, gently swiping each and every one of your tears away.  

“I promise.”  

                                                             ***

The season’s start was drawing nearer and nearer, which meant soon, Emily would be heading back to Orlando to practice with the Pride, where as you were staying in Portland to practice with the Thorns.  

The closer the time came, the more your heart ached, the more you yearned for the blonde, yearned to tell her the true extent of your feelings, yearned to tell her that you wanted more, but you couldn’t.  

You couldn’t be rejected again; you couldn’t again be rejected by the woman you loved.  

Lindsey huffs loudly when you leave the table, launching a crouton across the table at Emily who squeaks.  

“What!?” She asks, hazel orbs wide as she wipes the crumbs off her shirt.  

“Tell her how you feel idiot.” She sends the defender a glare, the woman’s cheeks flushed pink.  

“I-I don’t-

Lindsey goes to launch another crouton across the table but Tobin stops her, grabbing her hand.

“Sonn...” She whispers, taking a deep breath.  

Emily glances down at her lap, swallowing hard.  

“I can’t... I don’t deserve her after what I did.” Emily shrugs. “I broke her heart and-

Christen slips an arm around the blonde, sending her a small smile.  

“And you’ve mended it.”  

Emily hazel orbs fill with tears, a smile stretching across her face, a smile that’s wiped away within a few seconds.  

“That’s why I can’t break it again.”  

The blonde remains silent as you drop down in your seat beside her, a frown on your face.  

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, covering her hand with your own and Emily sniffles, swiping at her eyes with her sleeve.  

“N-Nothing, just allergies.”  

Your eyes narrow.  

Emily was one of the WORST liars in the world, the woman unable to look at you as the words left her mouth.  

You intertwine your fingers with Emily’s, giving her a soft smile.  

“Whatever it is Em...” 

You give her hand a squeeze. 

“I’m here for you...”  

Emily smiles, squeezing your hand back.

“I know Y/N.” She whispers, smiling softly at you, her eyes still teeming with tears.  

“I know.”  

                                                             ***

The day Emily Sonnett leaves, a piece of your heart goes with her.  

You didn’t want her to go.  

She didn’t want to go.  

But she had to, she had to because her team was in Orlando, and yours was here.  

“Call me every day?” You ask, bottom lip trembling at Emily sniffles, throwing her arms around your neck.  

“Every day.” Emily buries her face in your neck.  

“Answer every day?” She asks and you snort, squeezing her tightly.  

You wanted nothing more than to keep her in your arms, keep her here with you, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t because she was needed elsewhere, and you couldn’t because if you loved her, you’d do what was best and let her go, even if it meant she wouldn’t be yours.  

Emily pulls back, cupping your cheeks, ridding them of tears with the pads of her thumbs.  

“We’ll see each other again.” She whispers, resting her forehead against yours. “I mean, I have to show you up when the Thorns face the Pride, don’t I?” She grins, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips split into a grin.  

“In your dreams Sonnett.”  

Your eyes flutter open, Y/E/C orbs locking with her hazel orbs.  

“I’m gonna miss you.” She whispers and you sniffle.  

“I’m gonna miss you too.”  

                                                             ***

Watching Emily Sonnett walk away was the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, watching as half of your heart walked away, half of your heart within Emily’s hands.  

Again, you’d wanted to turn towards the bottle to prevent your loneliness, to numb the pain, but thanks to Tobin and Christen, you didn’t, instead hiking, and jogging with the two, preparing for the season with the Thorns.  

Ultimately, Christen had to head back to Utah, but you were far from alone, though this time instead of it being Christen, Tobin and Lindsey it was Tobin, Lindsey and Becky,  

It was after practice one day that Lindsey took a deep breath, glancing at you, watching as you sadly stared at your cleated feet.  

“How’s Em?” She asks, watching as your ears perk up.  

“She’s good, apparently the three A’s are taking good care of her.” You smile, referring to Ali, Ashlyn and Alex.  

You were thankful for the three of them, Emily had made her home with the Thorns, and leaving them behind was like leaving her family behind, so to have Ali, Ashlyn and Alex made it easier for her to transition.  

                                                             ***

Across the world, Emily was in a similar situation, walking side by side with Ali, Ashlyn and Alex, her eyes on her feet.  

“How’s Y/N doing?” Ashlyn asks, noting the way Emily’s eyes light up, a smile stretching across her face.  

“She’s doing good, Tobin and Becky are keeping her out of trouble.”  

What she hadn’t told them though was that the Pride would NEVER be the same as the Thorns, because you weren’t on the team.  

Alex, Ali and Ashlyn had somewhat dulled the ache in her heart, but only YOU were truly the one who could dull the ache in her heart entirely, considering half of her heart stayed in Portland with you.  

Ashlyn slips an arm around Emily, the goalie sending her a soft smile.  

“You’ll see her soon, I mean, the Pride HAS to square off against the Thorns eventually, right?” She nudges her and Emily smiles.  

Across the country Lindsey is doing the same, nudging you with a grin.  

Unbeknownst to you and Emily you utter the same words at the same time.  

“You’re right and I can’t wait.”  

                                                             ***

You were in love with Emily Ann Sonnett, that was an undeniable truth, but what was also an undeniable truth was that you were absolutely terrified. Terrified that you’d again be rejected by the blonde, something you knew you wouldn’t be able to take again.  

You couldn’t hold back how you felt anymore. Unlike before, when you’d put as much distance between you and Emily as you could, this time, you’d craved to see her, longed to hear her laugh, and see her smile, indeed her absence HAD made your heart grow fonder and fonder of her, so much so that when you saw her again, you weren’t sure what you’d do.  

“Hey, where’s your head at?” Lindsey gives you a nudge from her seat on the bus and you smile.  

“N-Nothing...”  

“Em?” She asks and your smile widens.  

“Maybe.”  

Lindsey snorts.  

“Maybe.” She mocks, earning a swat from Becky.  

“Ready to see her?” Tobin asks and you lick your lips, shrugging.  

“Ye-Yeah, but...”  

You take a deep breath, heart hammering in your chest.  

“I...” You close your eyes, swallowing hard.  

“What is it?” Becky asks and you take a deep breath.  

“I’m worried I won’t be able to stop myself from telling her I love her.”  

Your eyes widen, as do Lindsey’s, Tobin’s and Becky’s.  

Tears well up in your eyes as you turn towards them.  

“I-

Lindsey cups your cheeks, smiling.  

“Maybe you shouldn’t stop yourself?” She shrugs and you scoff.  

“I can’t get my heartbroken again... I can’t...” You mumble, your bottom lip jutted out and Lindsey smiles.  

“I don’t think it will happen again...”  

Your eyes narrow, brows knitted in confusion.  

“How can you be so sure?”  

Tobin and Becky share a glance, both smiling as you turn to them.  

“We just know.”  

You swallow hard, eyes again dropping to your lap.  

“I don’t know guys...” You whisper, turning away from the three of them.  

“I don’t know.”  

                                                             ***

“Excited?” Ashlyn asks as she and the rest of her USWNT and Orlando Pride teammates wait for the Thorns to arrive, Emily absolutely giddy at the prospect of seeing you again.  

“Yeah, I am. Can’t wait to see Y/N...” She smiles, eyes narrowing when she sees Ashlyn, Ali and Alex, all looking at her in a peculiar way.  

“What?” She asks, earning a snort from Alex.  

“You forgot Tobin, Lindsey and Becky.” She winks, the blonde’s eyes widening.  

“Oh...”  

Ashlyn grins, clapping her shoulder.  

“Em, when are you going to tell her?” She asks, Emily’s hazel orbs widening.  

“Tell her what?” She asks dumbly, eyes widening when Ali cups her cheeks.  

“That you love her.”  

Emily’s eyes widen further, her mouth opening and closing as her hazel orbs dart between the three women.  

“I...” She starts, unable to find the words she’s looking for, her mouth snapping shut seconds later, the woman unable to continue the lie.  

“What if she doesn’t love me back...?” Emily whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek, the blonde and her Orlando Pride teammates unaware that their fellow USWNT teammates from the Portland Thorns are making their way towards them.  

“Hey.” Ali grins when she sees you, Tobin, Lindsey and Becky.  

Emily’s eyes widen as she turns around, a grin stretching across her face when your eyes lock.  

In a split second she’s in your arms, her arms wrapped around your neck, yours slipping around her middle.  

Emily nuzzles into your neck, the woman sighing at the feel of being in your arms again.  

Your USWNT teammates are all smiles as they watch the two of you reunite.  

“I’ve missed you.” Emily whispers in your ear, the woman’s heart whole again as the two of you embrace.  

Not only is her heart whole, but yours is as well, the woman’s chest against yours bringing your heart together as well.  

“I missed you too Em, so much.”  

                                                             ***

“You can’t take your eyes off of her.” Carson Pickett nudges Emily with a grin, the blonde’s bottom lip jutted outward.  

Again though, hazel orbs drift to the field where you’re playing, immediately locking onto your running form, the black and white ball at your feet.  

“Have you told her how you feel?” Carson asks, the blonde shrugging.  

“We were together before and it didn’t work out...” She mumbles, her gaze falling to her cleated feet. “I broke her heart back then.”  

Carson smiles when she sees you glance across field, smiling at the oblivious defender beside her.  

“It looks to me like you put it together again.”  

Emily picks her head up, hazel orbs locking with your Y/E/C orbs across field, a smile stretching across your face.  

Emily smiles.  

“Maybe you’re right.”  

                                                             ***

“YES!” Emily throws a fist in the air as you jump into her arms, hugging her tightly.  

Everyone on the field freeze your USWNT teammates slapping their foreheads with their palms.  

“Did they forget they're on different teams?” Tobin shakes her head as Alex snorts.  

“Yeah, I think they did.”  

You slip out of Emily’s hold, your eyes wide and face red when you look down at her jersey.  

“Ummm...” You blush, Emily following your gaze, her eyes widening.  

“Oh...”  

You both clear your throat, glancing away, your teammates all smiling as Emily punches you in the shoulder.  

“Lucky assist.” She scoffs and you hum.  

“Lucky had nothing to do with it Em.” You wink, the blonde huffing as she shoves you.  

“Sure, it didn’t.”  

You stick your tongue out at her as the two of you part, Emily unable to bite back her smile.  

“Forget you were on the opposite team?” Tobin asks as you pass and you huff.  

“No...”  

“Sure, you didn’t.”  

                                                             ***

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, too bad.” Emily sticks her tongue out at you, as she helps you to your feet, blades of grass sticking to your face thanks to the currently soaked field.  

Moments before the second half it started to rain, and not just a little, small puddle forming on the field beneath your cleats.  

Emily wipes your face off with her sleeve.  

“Stupid grass.” She mumbles, and you smile, cheeks flushed.  

“Thanks, Em.”  

“Can’t have grass on that pretty face, can we?” She teases, her eyes widening for a split second before she makes a run for it.  

You bite your bottom lip, running down field, by passing Becky.  

“She said my face was pretty.” You grin, the defender shaking her head with a laugh.  

“OH GOD I SAID HER FACE WAS PRETTY.” Emily squeaks as she runs past Alex, the forward shaking her head.  

She and Becky both mumble under their breaths at the same time.  

“Hopeless.”  

                                                           ***

You’d missed her.  

Missed the dynamic between the two of you as teammates, but now, now you were opponents, and still in a way, things hadn’t changed.  

The final whistle blows and the first one to get to you is Emily, the blonde throwing her arms around you, the two of you crashing to the ground.  

Emily straddles your middle, pushing herself up on her palms as she hovers over you, blinking rapidly.  

“I-I’m sorry...” Emily stutters, moving to get off of you, but when you cup her cheeks, she stills.  

Uncaring that you’re entirely soaked, you stroke a droplet of water off her face, the blonde’s hazel orbs fluttering shut.  

Emily’s tongue swipes at her lips.  

“I missed you.” She whispers, leaning into your touch. “I’ve missed you so much.”  

Your fingers tangle in the back of Emily’s hair, the blonde’s eyes flashing open when you pull her down, your lips meeting for the first time in so long.  

Emily’s lips move against yours in a way that’s familiar but also entirely new, the spark of something you hadn’t felt before stimulating each and every one of your nerve endings.  

The two of you reluctantly part, eyes fluttering open at nearly the same time, Y/E/C orbs searching her face for any signs of reluctance, any sign of regret, something you’re relieved to say you find none of.  

Emily smiles softly, neither caring that you’re on a soaked field, in the pouring rain with thousands of eyes on you, all you can see is one another, all you can see is Emily’s soft smile as she stares down at you.  

A lone tear runs down Emily’s face, the single droplet dripping down onto your shirt as you cup her cheeks.  

“I never stopped loving you...” You whisper, Emily’s hazel orbs wide as your confession pierces her ears.  

She smiles, leaning back in, her lips once again, tenderly meeting yours.  

The two of you part, Emily’s nose brushing yours.  

“I love you... I always have, I just didn’t realize it until I lost you...” She whispers, the woman nuzzling into your palm, her hazel orbs hidden behind her closed eyelids.  

You stare lovingly up at the woman, your heart racing in your chest, your eyes sparkling with nothing but love.  

“You never lost me.”  

#uswnt x reader #emily sonnett #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnet imagine

[mybunnyparadenme]

(This is my edgy blog btw) Ship: bunny duh Prompts: 3, 11, and 12 I couldn’t choose so you can pick one if you don’t want to do them all!

Sorry it took me so long! I managed to combine all three prompts and here’s the result! Hope you like it~

#2 Things you said too quietly/#11 Things you said when you were drunk/#12 things you said when you thought i was asleep

Kenny couldn't think of a better way to spend a Friday night. He and Butters were hanging out in Butters' bedroom, listening to sugary sweet pop music and drinking McDonald's iced coffees that Kenny had picked up on the way over. They weren't drinking just any iced coffee though. Butters had nicked a bottle of Kahlua from his parent's liquor cabinet, and the two of them had been adding it into their coffees all night. Kenny already had a good buzz going, and Butters had just gone past that judging by how loud he was talking.

"You can't hog it all, Ken!" Butters pouted, reaching for the bottle with grabby hands. "Give it here!"

"Dude you've had more than me by now." Kenny said, laughing when Butters pouted even harder. He handed it over easily though, Butters deserved a night to let as loose as he wanted.

Instead of pouring more into his drink, Butters brought it straight to his lips and swallowed down several mouthfuls before he pulled it back with a grimace. "Oh that's strong!"

"You should've mixed it with your coffee!"

"It's pretty much all Kahlua at this point." Butters said, swishing around the contents in his half empty cup. It was much darker now than when Kenny had presented it to him. He looked up and gave Kenny a wild grin. "Besides, I can handle it. Waterin' it down is for pussies!

Kenny laughed again, the full kind of laugh that only happened when you were drunk enough that every little thing became the funniest thing you ever heard. He was so glad Stephen and Linda were going to be gone until tomorrow afternoon. The two of them could enjoy this time without having to worry about getting caught with pilfered liquor. Speaking of being caught though... "Okay, so how grounded do you think you'd be if your parents walked in right now?"

"Um." Butters paused, looking worried for a split second downing the remainder of his drink. He shook his head and raised his fist in the air with a shout, "I don't know and I don't care! You're looking at a guy who doesn't give a fuck about getting grounded!"

"Holy shit, drunk you is a badass." Kenny said, a slow smile forming on his face. He felt more attracted to Butters in this moment than he ever had before, but then again being attracted to Butters wasn't really new to him. Still, he couldn't deny Butters saying he didn't care about getting grounded was really fucking hot. He grabbed the bottle of Kahlua, hoping a strong shot would clear his thoughts, and found that it was almost empty. "Damn, we almost finished the whole thing, Butters. We're gonna have to fill it up with something before your folks come back."

"Do we have to?" Butters asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "They get enough from me already, fuck them and fuck their booze!"

"Hell yeah, fuck those tyrants!" Kenny said, but mentally he told himself to brew some coffee and vodka together later. As much as he loved this new side of Butters, there was no way he was letting Butters get grounded into oblivion over one night of fun.

"And if they try anything we could run away together!" Butters said, looking excited now. His eyes were bright and dreamy. "That would really show 'em. Ooh, we could really piss them off and leave a note sayin' we went to Vegas and are getting married!"

"Huh?!" Kenny had been about to tip the rest of his iced coffee into his mouth, but hearing that last bit shocked him so much he ended up spilling it all over his sweater.

Like a light switch flicking off, Butters' bravado fell away into concern. "Oh no, I'm sorry for getting so carried away and startlin' you Kenny! We gotta get that sweater in the wash before the stain sets in."

"It's... it's not that bad." Kenny murmured, hoping the heat rising to his cheeks looked more like a drunken flush. "I can just rinse it off in the sink when I go home."

"And catch your death of cold? Uh-uh, we're getting that cleaned right away. Give it here." Butters leaned over and started to lift it off of Kenny's body.

It took his alcohol addled brain a minute to realize that Butters was actually undressing him right now. Kenny couldn't help the long 'nice' that went through his mind as the sweater went over his head, but immediately afterwards their eyes locked and the full awkwardness of the situation finally hit them. Kenny's arms were over his head and tangled up in his sweater's sleeves, Butters' nose an inch away from his. He was close enough to a kiss...

"Oh sweet Mary." Butters breathed as he pulled back, his cheeks blazing. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't've done that."

"No big deal!" Kenny quickly reassured him, his heart was slamming against his ribcage. He slipped his sweater the rest of the way off and held it out in front of him, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. "Here."

"Thank you!" Butters squeaked, standing up way too fast. He swayed on his feet, but managed to stay upright. "Y-You can go ahead and grab one of my shirts while I get this washed okay?"

"Okay, I will. Thanks." Kenny said, standing up awkwardly. He felt so exposed without his sweater, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He could feel Butters eyes on him even without looking up.

"I'll be back soon!" Butters said before bolting out of the room.

Kenny let himself wallow in embarrassment for a few seconds, but then the cold got to him and he made his way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. He picked the first long-sleeved shirt on, a pale green one that smelled like citrus detergent. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized it as the scent that always seemed to cling to Butters' skin. He brought the sleeve up to his nose and inhaled deeply, then buried his face in his hands when he realized what he was doing. The alcohol, he blamed this on the alcohol.

A few minutes later Butters came back into the room, still looking a little flustered. "O-Okay, it'll be ready in a little while."

"Cool." Kenny said from his spot on the bed. The tension was still thick between them, and it was high time they brought the mood back to what it was before. He put on an exaggerated grin and casually asked, "So what'd you think of my tiddies? They were pretty great right?"

"Oh my god!" Butters giggled, all of his nervousness fading away as he laughed. He let himself sink onto the bed next to Kenny, their shoulders brushing casually. "My honest opinion? They were a little flat for my tastes.

"You wound me, Butters." Kenny sighed, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

"But I thought your freckles were neat. I never realized these were an all-over thing." Butters said, tapping the tip of Kenny's nose.

"Yeah, they... they're usually hidden underneath my clothes." Kenny said, his heart leaping at that easy touch. He hoped it wasn't just the Kahlua making him do that.

"You should show them off more often." Butters smiled at him. He said the next part softly, almost too low to hear. "They're really cute on you."

Cute? Butters thought he was cute? Kenny chewed the inside of his cheek, fighting back the smile that was threatening to give away how happy hearing that made him. Holy shit, Butters Stotch thought he was cute!

"I feel like dancin', don't you Ken?" Butters asked, as he rose to his feet again. He moved over to his nightstand where his phone was still playing pop songs. "Pick something fun for us to dance to!"

"Uhhhh, play some Katy Perry!" Kenny blurted out as he stood up too. "The earlier the better!"

"Got it!"

A minute later the two of them were belting out lyrics about getting hitched in Vegas, laughing and jumping around so much that Kenny was sure the floor was going to collapse underneath them. The room was spinning and the Kahlua and coffee mixture was sloshing around in his stomach, but Kenny felt better than he had in a while just being here with Butters. He always felt better when they were together.

They danced for half a dozen songs, shouting gibberish when they forgot the lyrics or just plain didn't know them in the first place. They were out of breath by the time they shut the music off and fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, giggling from both exhaustion and the alcohol still coursing through their bodies. Butters had a smile so wide his cheeks had to hurt.

"That was a lot of fun, Kenny." Butters said, reaching up to brush Kenny's hair from his sweaty forehead. His eyes were shining. "Thanks for coming over today."

"Thanks for inviting me." Kenny said, leaning into the touch with a sigh. "Hanging out with you is the best."

"Yeah?" Butters closed his eyes, a sleepy smile forming on his face. "I feel the same. You're my best friend, you know."

Had he known that? Kenny thought back to all the time they spent together, just the two of them. They were close definitely but... best friends? God that was freaking profound. Was that just the alcohol talking? Would Butters even remember saying it in the morning? God he wanted Butters to remember this.

"Butters do you-" He started, only to cut himself off when he saw that Butters' eyes were closed, his breathing even like he was fast asleep. He reached up and waved his hand in front of his face, holding his breath until Butters' eyes fluttered open.

"Mm? What is it, Ken?" Butters murmured, his eyes soft with slowly fading consciousness.

"You meant it right?" Kenny swallowed down the nervousness from earlier that threatened to steal his words away. God his eyes were the palest shade of blue. He wanted to tell Butters how beautiful they looked.

It was silent for a moment, long enough for Kenny to worry that Butters had fallen asleep with his eyes open, but then he reached up and patted his cheek softly. "'Course I meant it. You're my sunshine guy."

Kenny wanted to melt into this moment. Butters' fingers were warm on his heated face, and surprisingly rough with callouses. Probably from all the chores his parents had him do, but it was comforting all the same. Butters eyes drifted shut, and without the eye contact Kenny felt brave enough to reach up and place his own hand on top of his. He could feel his whole body relax as this quiet moment stretched on, and sleep started to overtake his consciousness. Just before he drifted off, he let himself murmur, "You're my best friend too Butters... light of my life. I love you so much."

He was asleep before he could hear the soft gasp that followed his confession.

#south park #sp bunny #bunny sp #butters stotch #kenny mccormick #my fics #south park fic #answered #promptfic

[savysavannah]

Practice Challenge one: Part One

Beginnings: 

“Fuck!” I yelled and slammed my hands against the steering wheel. This wasn’t the first time I’d had a total mental breakdown in the dim lighting of the courthouse parking lot, and it sure wasn’t gonna be the last. This case was rigged from the get-go, Mr. Dean esquire was always there against me, swaying the jury with his charismatic personality and his masculine gender. Not to mention it was a jury which he decided to leave fully as white men, his fellow groupies against my defendant, a woman of color who defended herself against her abuser who came at her with a gun. 

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Opening them I saw Dean sashaying to his car. I considered putting my own in reverse and waiting until he just walked by, then bye bye Dean. Deciding that it wouldn’t be worth the cost of defending myself I waited until after he’d passed to pull out and start to drive to Illean Private University. I was an attorney coach for a Mock Trial team and of course, had to encourage these kiddos that law was the best career and it would really be fulfilling to help people. Driving past the Greek life houses I couldn’t help but smile thinking of happier times. Chugging shitty beer, dressed like a total slut and not giving one single fuck. 

After an hour or two of bullshitting some kids and reminding them to object when someone playing a witness says “well I heard the defendant say he was mad at the victim so he must have killed her.” I drove on my way home. 

“Incoming call from Uncle Dipshit'' said my car, continuing the never ending day that is my life. 

“What?” 

“Hey little Savy-Hannah, I’m in a bit of a bind and need some help.” 

“What was it? Cocaine? Meth? Or did you finally snap and get caught with heroin.” 

“Come on, Savannah, why would you just assume that, can’t I call my one and only niece because I wanna talk to her?” 

“At 11pm? Friday night? Bullshit.” 

“.......fine Sav-” 

“Fuck you, I’m not doing probono work for you anymore. Get your shit together or get the fuck out of our lives.” 

Taking a turn away from my apartment I started to head for Lux, my old usual club. I hadn’t gone in awhile but right now I needed to get absolutely shitfaced. 8 shots and 2 waters later I was grinding up against some strangers to Kesha’s “Die Young”, a classic. Suddenly I heard an all too familiar voice, “Savannah!” 

My brother. Specifically, my oldest brother, Dan. He danced his way over to me of course being in this scene and grabbed my wrist. “Wha-u wan dan?” I slurred and kept jumping to the song. 

“I was worried about you, Ricky called and said you were acting weird.”

“Weird!" I laughed throwing my head back "Because I wouldn’t clean up his shit for once!” I screamed over the music before he pulled me out of the club by the wrist. As soon as the cool air hit my cheeks I leaned my head back and looked up at the sky. 

“I wish I was a star." I mumbled seeing the shimmering lights above us before suddenly leaning forward and hurling all over the cement. Probably a usual occurrence for Lux but I still felt bad. Dan rolled down the windows of my car as he drove me home, I stuck my head out of it for the breeze to feel the air in my lungs. 

“How’d you find me?” I mumbled, still not fully back to myself. 

“We all have eachothers phone locations, remember? You insisted on it like a year ago after you interned on that kidnapping case.” He sighed as we drove up the familiar road home. 

“You’re really a mess you know that?” He asked. It's not like he was much better….well, he was but it's not like I'm our brother Danny. At least I made something of myself. Didn't get handed my career and a wife on a silver platter. Or like Daniel who was still so far back into the closet that we really aren't sure if he'll ever come out, even though our family would be more than accepting of him. 

I was tempted to defend myself but stopped, “I know, I just need a win."

The next morning Dan was sleeping on my couch and I was on the living room floor. “You couldn’t have carried me to bed?” I mumbled through a yawn. 

“You’re the dumbass who got white girl wasted and said you were too tired to walk to your room.” 

“What time is it?” I mumbled and went to find my phone despite the world swaying as I crawled to my purse.

He lifted his arm up to look at his watch, “Like 8:00am chill out.” He groaned. 

“HOLY FUCK 8?” I flinched at the loudness of my own voice. I was normally up at six, two hours slept in, what’s today it’s a wednesday. ‘What was I supposed to do today? No clients in court today, so that’s good. Okay so I suppose I have to? Paperwork?’

I sighed, “You’re fucking lucky I didn’t have court today.” Stumbling up I ran to my room to change out of yesterday's clothes, splash some water on my face and get on the move.  

"Lucky? I'm the one who got your ass home at all!" He yelled back from the living room as I slipped into a different skirt. Shirt could stay the same, just a plain white shell no one would notice. But skirt absolutely not. I grabbed a pair of earrings and a bag of makeup wipes and rushed past Dan. 

"Fine sorry love ya. Family dinner on saturday right?" I hurried as I slung a purse over my shoulder. 

"You got it." He replied. 

"Uh, stay awhile have breakfast if you want. I've got bagels and eggs. Just lock up when you leave." I remembered finally to be polite as he stretched getting up from the sofa.

The office was busy and loud as usual. I tried to smile and act like I wasn't hungover as holy hell while I walked to my desk. 

There was someone new taking a desk near me too. Lanky guy probably straight out of law school too. I sized him up for a moment before nearly catching his eye but going back to my work. 

It wasn't till lunch that I had to actually deal with another human when I ran into Mr. Asshole-dean. 

"Ms. Mars?" He said as he tapped my shoulder in line at the starbucks near the courthouse. 

I turned but knew his voice right away, "Mr. Dean?" I replied wondering why he was bothering me. He seemed to catch my cold tone. 

"What, rough night? Does suck the night you lose the case but don't worry. You'll get better at losing, can't win em all." 

I would like to get an extra extra hot- you know what make it just a cup of fucking lava to poor on this jackass. I smiled, "Thanks! I'm sure it didn't take you long to get used to it." I gave a passive aggressive smile and looked down to my watch. 

"Listen, Mars, I know we're opposing counsel but I don't mean any harm by it. I think we could be great friends if you'd give it a shot. I mean I'm sure we both hate our jo-"

"Hi I'd like a venti mocha!" I ordered cutting him off the scurried back to my car. 

I had a few hours before I actually had a meeting. It was just to speak with a judge over a custody case between a homophobic mother and two "really good friends" one of who was the father of the child in question. There was a chance it could turn into a serious case, the mom was wealthy and if she got too displeased she could probably turn it into a civil suit on the grounds of the father being gay. But it wasn't likely she'd take the time. She was only really fighting for custody to use their kid as a weapon in the divorce. 

I drove home with my coffee deciding I wanted to Pad Thai leftovers I had as comfort/hangover/please-god-dont-make-me-live-another-day food. 

Daniel was sitting on my couch when I walked in. "Can you not just walk into my house? Dan may have forgotten to lock it but that's no reason for you to just waltz in here!" I yelled as I dropped my purse and walked up to him. 

"Is that my mail?" I huffed and snatched my letters from him. It was just junk mail but he still had no right to be so intrusive. 

He looked up at me with a slight glare, "I know what you did and I'm gonna get you back for it." And as quickly as he came he scurried out. 

Ringing up Dan I tapped my foot on the ground, "You forgot to lock the door!" I yelled into the phone. 

"Oh shit my bad. You okay?" He asked. 

"Yes, but Daniel was just here. All pissed over something." I grumbled and walked to the fridge to get out my leftovers. 

"Any idea of what?" He asked. 

"No clue." I answered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, don’t call anyone. Listen, they record everything but our conversations for confidentiality, if you call someone it’s possible that they might somehow be involved and we don’t want prosecution to get that- understand?” I hated explaining the basics to my clients, but those dumbassses would sign their own sentences if they didn’t know any better.

I walked up to the courthouse, in one hand I had my phone, the other a black coffee from the starbucks across the street, my work back slung over my shoulder and threatened to slide lower onto my arm. As I turned the corner I was suddenly burning with hot coffee against my chest and a stranger staring down at me as I had run right into him, 

“FUCK!” I yelled as I stepped back. My heel slipped in a crack on the sidewalk, the top of it snapping it too causing me to fall back, my head hitting the hard concrete.   

When I opened my eyes again he was standing over me. It was the new guy who sat across from me. "Don't worry I called an ambulance." He assured. I was going to sit up but as I pieced the situation together I realized I was no longer wearing a shirt. Instead I had his blazer placed over my top. I assume because of the burning coffee which would have been sitting on my torso had he not. 

He rode in the ambulance to the hospital. We sat in awkward silence as I tried to figure out his angle. Was he afraid I'd sue. I was the one who bumped into him. Did he wanna ask me questions about our workplace. It'd been a month or so since he'd arrived though so that wouldn't make sense. 

He sat next to me at the hospital and was still there when the doctor told me it was a light concussion and a small burn. He sighed, finally not seeming like a stiff board for a moment. Maybe he was scared I'd sue. I turned to him in the hospital bed when we had a moment alone. 

"Why are you here?" I asked. 

He blushed and looked down mumbling a bit as he said "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wouldn't be able to work anyways till I knew." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

"Why? I'm the one that bumped into you?" I asked. 

He was about to respond when the brigade of brothers came in. He seemed startled at all the sudden male energy in the room. "Ah, these are my brothers Dan, Danny, and Daniel. Daniel is a family name." I added the common addition when introducing them to anyone. 

He stood up and shook Dan's hand firmly "Nicholas Lamia." He said. I realized then that I also didn't know his name. Danny started to get suspicious as he looked at him with antagonizing eyes. 

"How do you know our sister?" He asked. Nicholas flushed again and tried to find words for a moment. 

"We work together. He's the one who called the ambulance." Daniel set a balloon down next to me that he'd gotten at the gift shop. 

We hadn't really spoken since his home break in. I still don't know what that was about. But he's been suspicious since. Once they released me Nicholas went on his way and the Mars siblings stood on the sidewalk and considered where to go. 

"Should we get sushi? It's been a moment since we hung out without mom and dad." Dan suggested leading the conversation. 

"Hmm, works for me. Samantha's out of town for work." Danny chimed in. 

I sighed thinking about all the work I still had to do. But it had been a minute since we hung out for fun, and cucumber rolls wouldn't be too bad right about now. "Sure I'm in." I replied. 

"You?" Danny asked Daniel.

He mumbled for a moment with the same guilty look, "no, I don't th-" 

Suddenly Danny got him in a headlock, "come on even Savy agreed and she'd rather eat shit than waste time." He joked. I rolled my eyes and we all piled into Dan's car. 

The waitress led us up to a small booth towards the back. At first I was going to sit next to Daniel but the blaring TV would send me down a spiral. There was a government program on and as soon as that shit for an heir came on I'd be fuming about how we're leaving the lives of multiple disadvantaged people to a boy who did body shots off a Delta Nu on a thursday night. I wasn’t exactly sure if that story was true, but it wouldn’t surprise me based off of what I’d seen from more credible sources than Lucy in the room down that hall at the sorority house who was gushing about how she wished it could be her. Prince Eaton went to the University of Labrador with us and she was hopeful that he would do it but sadly, no. 

Dan saw my eyes lingering on the TV and switched sides of the booth with me. We were just about finished and considering desert when I began to notice the glances and smirks. I wiped with a napkin thinking maybe I had some rice on my face, but they continued nonetheless. It wasn’t like creepy guys smirking either, it was everyone. The air felt different and Daniel looked like he was going to be sick. “What?” I asked as he opened his mouth. 

It looked like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Dan opened to speak too, “Savannah, we didn’t think you’d ge-” 

“Oh my gosh congratulations on being selected! Would you like a desert? Everything is on the house of course!” The waitress smiled. 

I looked up at her as if she were speaking German. “Congratulations on what?” I asked. 

“On being selected! They were just announced, are you so excited? Could I also get a photo by any chance! The next queen of Illea could be sitting at my booth!” She cheered.

The world slowed as my mind raced selected? Like The selection selected? I didn’t apply? I didn’t want to apply? How did I even get entered? What did Daniel want to tell me? Did Daniel do this? Was this his revenge for what? 

I snapped out of it as Dan called my name. “I’m sorry. I have to step out for a moment.” I said and grabbed my purse running out of the restaurant, feeling everyone watching me. I walked to the side of the building and pressed my back against the cold brick panting. I crumbled inwards as my brothers ran over to me. I took a deep breath in, 

“I don’t” 

another breath

“understand.” 

Suddenly a man with a long lens camera appeared. How did that happen so fast? How did he know what she looked like? Stupid your Savannah Mars it’s not like you’re a nobody your grandpa runs the largest candy company in the world. 

“Can you back off?” I heard Dan ask him. 

He kept ignoring Dan entirely, that is till Dan pushed his camera out of focus. “What the fuck man? Chill.” The creep said and went to shove Dan. Level headed Dan of course responded by punching him in the face. 

We all piled into his car and drove to my house. I sat in the car ride silent and waited for someone to speak. No one did but Daniel still looked like he was going to throw up. We all sat on the sofa in continued silence. Only Dan spoke to offer everyone water. 

No one said yes to it but a cup appeared in front of each of us anyways, always the responsible older brother. 

I inhaled then finally said, “I’m not mad. I just want to know why?” and looked at Daniel. It was clear by now that he was the culprit. 

He sat there in silence, his lip whimpering like he wanted to cry. Like he wanted to cry? If anyone’s going to cry it should be me. Suddenly I lunged at him to get in a hit. Only Danny’s arm stopped mine from smashing into his face. 

“Why?” I yelled. 

“I thought you made a gay dating profile for me.” He whimpered. 

“What?” I asked, even more confused than before. 

Dan spoke up, “Danny made a gay dating profile for him to try and give him a little push. When he got mad he said it was you who did it.” 

“I just saw the letter sitting there and it seemed like the perfect way to get back at you for meddling in my love life. I was just gonna taunt you with submitting it, then Dan told me it was Danny but he said you wouldn’t get in and you’d just never know.” Daniel explained. 

“Well, statistically speaking you shouldn’t have.” He defended. My anger shifted to the brother holding me back. If Danny had teased Daniel about his sexuality none of this would have happened. But I couldn’t do anything with him still holding my wrist. 

I stood from the sofa and the brothers stood as well. “I’m going to go get changed.” The second they relaxed I turned and charged at Danny. “You fucking bitch!” I yelled and started to pull at his hair. He didn’t fight back but Daniel panicked and Dan rushed over. I was yanked off of him before I could make any real damage but he did look hurt enough. 

“How could you! Just minding your own fucking business could have avoided this whole thing! And Daniel!” I yelled and turned. “Don’t fucking get vengeance especially not without communicating!” 

The phone started to ring. It was probably about the selection. I huffed over ready to say, “Hi, yes this is Savannah Mars. No, I would not like to participate, please pull someone else.” But as I picked up the phone I realized something. Daniel would have had to forge my signature. In order to apply for me he had to sign a contract. If I say I want out I would have to prove I didn’t agree to begin with. That would mean proving the false signature. Which is by the way, illegal. 

I sighed, held the phone to my ear. “Yes this is she. I’m so excited to be selected and am more than happy to discuss a time for you to send your people over.”

[szopenhauer]

When was the last time you wore your favourite article of clothing? I like most of my clothes

Do your parents smoke? no

Do you live close to a park? forest

Is your favourite animal endangered? raccoons aren’t but elephants are :(

How many pens can you see from where you’re sitting? 6 

What language do you think you’d fail at? french and asian ones

Do you still have a landline phone at your house? but we don’t use it

Do you carry pain relievers with you at all times? nope

Where is your mother right now? in the living room with my dad

What was the last thing to make you smile? not sure what was last

What would you do if you got home and you saw your house had been destroyed? omg don’t feed my paranoia :o

Would you slap the last person you talked to for twenty dollars? nah

Do you know anyone who gives way too many hugs? they give as much as they need 

What are some positive things, realizations or habits that came out of quarantine for you? long story, it’s complicated

How do you feel about people who are “workaholics”? Would you consider yourself one?  I don’t like them, most of them only care about money and not at all about health or loved ones, I’m not ambitious or a workaholic

What could you spend less money on? trinkets

How would you describe yourself as a friend? What value would you say you bring to your friends? it’s up for them to say/judge

In psychology they say that our romantic relationships are an extension of our relationships with our parents, and that we tend to choose our partners based on whatever was lacking in our childhood, or that we are attracted to traumas and sufferings that are familiar to us rather than the unknown. Can you relate to this? umm...

Can you tell when you are not well-liked? What do you do when you feel someone is not particularly fond of you?  I’m not surprised, I’m used to the fact ppl don’t like me that I assume they don’t until they tell me, repeteadly, that they actually do (which rarely happens and doesn’t last long), I avoid/ignore those who hate me most

How would you say your preference in movies or TV shows changed from when you were a teenager vs. now? used to watch only movies for kids at first

Apart from price and location, what are some deciding factors when choosing a house for you? smell, bath and balcony mostly

What emotion is the hardest for you to express?  how grateful I am if that counts - when it comes to gifts and/or compliments etc.

How do you feel about job interviews? Are you good at negotiation? I do well but I still don’t get a job because of lack of experience; I only failed one interview in my life but I didn’t even want to work there, UP sent me to call center and boss asked me questions about the job I was going to get but they didn’t tell me what it’s about so I didn’t know much and I was in my snow boots (as it was winter) to my elegant clothes so I looked dumb and I forgot that I can’t leave the building on my own as they had special card keys and I tried to open door like crazy until someone saved me - that was awkward...

How many cars have you ever owned? 0

Can you do math in your head well? I need my fingers

What’s your least favorite chore to do around the house? laundry and cooking, not that I like chores in general haha 

What’s your favorite flavor of potato chip? salt, also liked becon in the past

Do you ever read the weather forecast? pfft 

Do amusement park rides make you sick? I worry they would so I don’t risk it

Have you ever cheated on a test? in high school, especially math, elseway I would fail 

Is your next birthday coming up soon? next year

Do you have any bumper stickers on your car? I’d buy some if I had a car but I don’t drive

Do you leave good tips when you eat out at restaurants? I don’t tip, why? we don’t tip postmen and/or nurses etc.

What’s your favorite thing to eat at bbqs? not a BBQ food person

Do you still own any VHS tapes? we still keep ‘em

How many jobs have you had? I tried some jobs but never really had one

If there was a real Jurassic Park, would you visit it? no thx

How many friends do you have that are married? from all of my ex best friends only Ula, Sandra and John are married, Dorota was already divorced when I met her 

Did you have a swing set in your yard when you were a child? didn’t trash it, used it this summer

You’re making a fruit salad: what kinds of fruit do you put in it? I don’t eat fruit salads

Do you prefer to drink from glasses or mugs? mugs, glasses are dangerous, I remember them breaking from heat like they were exploding or smth - scary

Is it weird to hear your name in movies or TV shows? it is, when an evil or stupid character has my name it makes me mad

What kind of kid were you when you were seven? very good student, angel, clumsy, naive, wearing “ugly clothes”, the only girl with long hair at the point, petite, wanted other kids to like me so I tried to impress them (but didn’t blindly followed everything they were doing though), not as shy as my mom tought, didn’t know how to tell jokes, still happy but slowly becoming depressed due to family issues, bullying, money and health problems

Is there a subject you know so much about that you’d be able to teach it? sigh... Where did you purchase the computer you’re using right now? Media markt  Do you think it’s fair to compare Family Guy to The Simpsons? The Simpsons are better, I dislike Family Guy, wasn’t there an episode where they mixed both of those shows?...

Do you have pockets in anything you are wearing currently? I do not usually

How loudly can you burp? I’m more of a quiet burp/fart person

How many different letters are in your full name? 12

Do you like making bets? occasionally

Have you ever had a ‘falling’ dream? I don’t wake up, I just fall and crash on the floor then I lay there and it hurts

Do you do anything weird in your sleep? possibly

How long are your fingers? my longest finger is 7 cm and my shortest is 4 cm

Do you like bumper cars? whatever

What color is the book nearest to you? dark colors - black, purple, red, grey...

Can you lick your elbow? I can

How old were you when you said your first word? ask my parents

Can you sit the way people sit when they meditate? yep

Do you like the autumn? if it’s not too cold and snowy

Would you rather have a hippo or rhino dropped on you? doesn’t matter but at this point in 2020 I can expect that to happen

Have you ever cried in front of a teacher? in elementary, in high school I cried but she didn’t notice as I tried to hide that - it was one of two moments through all high school that I cried - to było wtedy kiedy Pepe zabrał mój temat na maturę, na który przygotowywałam się od 5 lat i dostałam w zamian jakieś gówno, a drugi raz płakałam bo musiałam zapłacić za brak biletu w autobusie mimo, że go miałam tylko legitymacja szkolna nie była podbita bo akurat wówczas byłam w szpitalu i nikt mnie nie powiadomił, że powinnam to nadrobić i strasznie się zmartwiłam, że nie mam kasy i staram się jak mogę, a i tak coś zawsze się spierdoli (bo czemu ludzie sobie jeżdżą bez biletu serio cały czas, a mimo to “złapali” akurat mnie?), jeszcze musiałam pojechać przystanek dalej przez to jak mnie spisywali i prawie spóźniłam się na zajęcia :(

Have you ever cried BECAUSE of a teacher? who haven’t? srsly

Do you do a :) or a (:? :) (: is creepy

Are paper clips fun to play with? meh

Do you prefer mechanical pencils or regular pencils? regular

Is your alarm clock set right now? good idea :o

Are you itchy right now? slightly which is normal to me

Do you have anything on your wrists? not right now

Why are you so awesome? :) I’m not...

so how are you today? I thought I will feel worse before going to hospital so won’t complain

when was the last time you had a cup of tea? long time ago

who’s the most recent person on your Facebook feed? (if you have it) my annoying sister >.<

when (if ever) was the last time you saw that person? week ago

how do you feel about wolves? great animals

do you use pinterest? started new account this month

should you be doing something else right now? packing but whenever I pick up one thing to put into the bag I get a panic attack

bye :) bye...

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Red ~ Embry Call (Part 1)

A/n: This had me so pumped, let’s go

Warning: cussing and sexual content

Word Count (w/out lyrics): 3,047

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street. Faster than the wind, passionate as sin ending so suddenly.

Fifteen and wildly in love. To be so free...

I'd been told plenty of times how lucky I was. How insanely, crazy lucky I was that I had found Embry Call. They didn't have to tell me, though, I KNEW I was lucky. I knew that he looked at me like no other boy his age could ever even dream of looking at a girl. He treated me better and thought more long term than sometimes even I did.

Sometimes I wondered what it was about me that made him this way. He had never been like this before (trust me I'd asked) and he could be so immature and childish that in the moments of earnest and true love, I worried that maybe I was working with two people who looked exactly the same...

He was wild. Loving him was being on a rollercoaster, rarely ever calm and slow unless it was building up to something major. He was fun, but I fell in love with him because of the way he held me when I cried.

There was something mesermizing about him. About his laugh and how he tied his hair back and the way his eyebrows wiggles when he made a sex joke that would have made a nine year old tattle tell and a twelve year old holler with laughter. There was something in the way he kissed me that left me both completely satisfied and also dying for more. Something about the way he scooped me up when I wasn't paying attention or how he said my name when he wanted to cuddle or how he drew his last name next to mine that made me wonder if he was joking or daydreaming.

We'd been dating a year and a half. We'd gotten together when we were fourteen. Fourteen! We were sixteen now. Weird. It seemed insane and stupid and impossible but we never stopped. A year rolled around and then almost another and we were still here.

His arms around me felt like armor and I leaned back into him, smiling even though I was doing homework. "I love you, Call."

"I love you too, y/l/n."

He didn't ven hesitate, but it didn't feel casual either. He enunciated it by leaving a kiss on my neck and I felt my smile soften. The sparks and insanity and bubbly feelings went away, but my happiness when being with him never did. He didn't spark me like a car engine starting, but he made me happy and I could do the same for him. That's all that would matter as long as we would allow it.

After a second, I sighed. "I don't want to do this, Em," I whined. My head rested against his shoulder as he leaned forward to look closely at what I was working on, his hair tickling my jaw.

A sigh as heavy as mine escaped him. "Why is your math so much harder than mine? We're both sophomores."

"They hate me more." He scoffed, humored, but I feigned seriousness. "Those teachers have a creepy adult crush on you. It's probably your smile. Or your eyes. Your hair. Your laugh. Your-" he moved to come face to face with me, his darker skin tinted with a blush. "Lips," I finished, smirking.

He kissed me and I grinned. When we parted I turned on my side, pushing my homework away with my foot before curling into Embry and closing my eyes. "You have to do this," he reminded me. "You're already behind- your mom is going to ground you. And I'm all she ever grounds you from anymore."

Trying not to laugh, I groaned. "Don't make me, Em this stuff is murder!"

His nose traced along my neck and I sighed contentedly. "Do it for me?" I huffed. "I'll give you a kiss every time you get a problem right."

"You'll give me a kiss either way," I pointed out."

He leaned away. "No I won't."

Opened my eyes, I rose an eyebrow. "You can't stay in the same room as me and not kiss me, Call, but you can be cute and pretend to try."

His eyes set and I knew hat I had just set of World War three. "Bet."

I made the mistake and indeed bet.

Now I was sitting here, on my back as he leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with a smirk on his face but frustration in his eyes. I pouted. "Em," I whined.

His face screwed up in concentration and I knew I’d suceeded in making it harder to say no to me. "Do your work and I’ll give you a kiss," he offered rather casually and calmly.

I got an idea, smirking as I sat up and leaned over to do a problem. It took me a good few seconds but I pushed myself, pumped by my idea and anticipation. He came and sat next to me to make sure I was actually doing my work, probably surprised I’d broken so quickly. When I finished, I sat back, grinning at him. "I get a kiss now."

Embry searched my face for a few seconds, his eyebrows curled in doubt. Before he could find anything, though, I rolled my eyes and grabbed his collar, bringing his lips to mine. He made a half moan on the feeling of impact, his hand instinctively moving to my neck, his thumb caressing my jaw. I let nature take over and followed the flow of my wants - which I usually had to calm but was going to let completely lose now.

Moving and turning, I got to my knees without breaking the kiss, causing him to lean back a bit. I then moved into his lap, straddling him purposefully so that I grinned against him. He gasped and I smirked, my hands moving into his hair to wrap in the long strands and tug slightly. Another moan escaped him, muffled and low and longer than the first. His hands moved to my waist, gripping me tightly and pulling me close. My tongue ran along his bottom lip and he let me in without even a pause, enjoying the rare show of dominance. My hands moved again, this time breaking the kiss only a second to take my shirt off.

The house was empty and this was SO much better than doing homework. I kissed him again and his hands flattened against my exposed sides and stomach. He went to pull me close but then groaned and pushed me away. I went back in to kiss him again but he turned his head. "You need to do homework," he reminded me, his voice huskier than usual.

Determined, I moved to kissing his neck, my teeth and lips moving across his warm skin. He hummed in appreciation. "I love you," I whispered seductively. "I want you, Em."

He pushed me away, his eyes darkened with lust as he tried to control himself. "Y/n, you are going to do your homework." I glared at him, crawling off and returning to my after school hell. He leaned close, his fingers grazing my bra clasp as he whispered, "And then I’ll fuck you senseless."

Who needed much more motivation than that?

-

I remember the day it all fell apart.

Embry Call was a lot of things, but he was very rarely ever angry. Never was he as violently angry as he was now.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me closer. "Why won’t you just LISTEN?" My eyes widened and I flinched. I wasn’t scared of him but he was being rough and aggressive and I didn’t like it. "Why did you go to that party? You could have been hurt!"

Ripping my arm away was harder than I thought and I ended up just pulling him closer. He was intimidating when angry. "I had it under control," I promised calmly, trying to process this sudden turn in his personality. He worried, sure, but usually when I did something stupid he’d wrap me in a hug and kiss me and tell me how stupid I was and tell me to at least involve him next time so he could keep an eye on me...

Now he was pissed. "You broke down on the road and just WALKED home? Your phone died? You didn’t answer any of my calls and texts- Y/n I thought we’d have to find your body somewhere!"

"Embry, I’m sorry okay? It wasn’t-Hey, that hurts!" His eyes widened and his face relaxed as I exclaimed, loosening his grip on my wrist so that I could rip it away, my other hand rubbing the throbbing skin gently. My eyes watered and I felt stupid crying. I should be yelling at him, or leaving the house and ignoring him for a very long time. Make sure he NEVER did something like this again. But I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do and I got caught up in the moment.

His eyes searched mine and then looked to my wrist. "Did- did I hurt you?"

"Not badly," I comforted. "Look, you need to calm down okay? What’s gotten into you?"

He stepped back, eyes widening. "Not badly? Y/n, did I hurt you?"

My mouth opened and then closed. I frowned. "A little bit," I admitted begrudgingly. Embry took another step back until his legs bumped into the couch and then he basically collapsed on it. My eyes went wide and I forgot my wrist in favor of rushing the few steps to kneel next him. My hand went to his forehead. "Em you’re burning up... Come on let’s get you to bed." I carried him to his room, helping take his shirt and shoes off and laying him in bed to be wrapped in blankets- how he always slept. "I’ll bring over some soup tomorrow," I whispered. "For now, stay warm and go to sleep. Now. You need rest. I’ll get you a glass of water for when you wake up because you’ll need lots of fluids. Maybe you should-"

He caught my wrist, gently. The same wrist he’d held in an iron grip earlier. His eyes were sad as he looked at my hand, tugging me closer so he could kiss my wrist. "I’m sorry." His voice broke and he suddenly looked so exhausted and worn out that my heart broke too.

Kneeling next to his bed, I wiped his hair out of his face. "It’s okay," I eased. "Just don’t do that again okay? Ever." He nodded. I huffed. "Well you’ve never done anything like that before and you were worried sick and actually not feeling well, so I’ll excuse it once." We exchanged a smile. "Now I’ll get that water and then head home, okay? Sleep."

As I went to leave the room, Embry asked, "How did I get so lucky to have you?”

I chuckled to myself. “We’ll never know, Call.” As I promised, I got him a cup of water, kissed him goodbye, and headed home. I went right to sleep so I could wake up early the next morning and make him the soup I’d promised. Homemade, my mom’s recipe. I brought it to Embry’s house, smiling when his mother answered.

Her face was sad though and my smile wavered. "He says for you not to come in right now, dear. He’s just gotten worse than yesterday, Jacob Black’s father brought Sam Uley came over when I called to ask him if he knew anything about it... I’m sorry, hun, but they said it’s really contagious."

My heart fell but I nodded, wondering where I’d heard that name before. Sam Uley. It sounded way too familiar to not be able to tie it to something, but I couldn’t place exactly where I’d heard it before. "Well, give this to him will you?" I asked, holding up my bowl of soup.

She grinned. "Aw, how sweet! He’ll love this, thank you, I will. Hope to see you soon, dear." And then she went inside and I stepped away from the house, sighing heavily. I moved to Embry’s window after a small pause, my fingers reaching up to tap three times, pause, tap two times, pause, and then tap once. This was our secret code: 3, 2, 1. And then he would response with 1, 2, 3.

The response never came.

Dismissing it since he was probably asleep, I turned away from the house and went back to my own again. I’d be able to talk to him again soon- I could last a few days...

I wouldn’t see Embry Call again for far longer than just a few days.

Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free fall. Like the colors in autumn, so bright just before they lose it all.

I can’t help but think of how we met as I sit here by myself.

We were young, in middle school. I’d loved next to Jacob Black as long as I remembered but I was awkward and kind of a loner because I was too boyish and rough to hang out with the girls and boys didn’t want me because I was a girl. A snotty girl had shoved me in the hallway, and I lashed out because I would not let this even start. I was ending this- NOW. I was not the kind of person to lay down and take anything; you don’t mess with me.

After I went off on her and she attempted to shove me again, I pushed her onto her ass, tackling her to the ground and pinning her arms with my legs and using my hands to slam down next to either side of her face, startling her. "Don’t," I enunciated. "Do that."

A teacher had begun to come over so I scrambled off of her. She started crying and I got sent to the principals office, but after I explained everything, thy called us both in, made us truce, and that was it. She left me alone, and so did everyone else.

Completely alone... as usual.

On my way home from school, Jacob caught up to me. "The way you stood up to that girl was crazy cool."

I grinned, excited by the idea of a new friend. The two of us really hit it off and he invited me to hang out with him and his friends. I of course agreed. When the time came and I finally met Embry and Quil, I was taller than all of the boys.

Eventually they got their growth spurts and we all started to go through puberty. Embry and I got more flirty in our physicality. Me jumping on his back randomly, or running at him and having him catch me. Wrestling matches where one of us would let the other pin us so we could meet eyes and be close. Me teaching him how to dance. Him constantly wrapping his arms around my waist and shoulders. When he asked m to the dance and we kissed, everyone was just relieved it had finally happened so they wouldn’t have to deal with our angst and longing.

I thought of the way he smiled when he kissed me for the first time, hands on my waist and my arms resting on his shoulders while we slow danced. After, we closed our eyes, moving slowly with our foreheads pressed together. Him quietly asking if I would be his girlfriend and both of us giggling as I said yes. That first month we COULDN’T stop touching each other. That awkward time after where we learned self control but still wanted to touch each other all the time and had to learn when we and when wasn’t the appropriate times.

I thought of his breath on my neck and he whispered, "I love you" for the first time. It took us a while because people kept nagging about how young we were so much that it scared us, but I was thrilled and eagerly said it back, kissing him again. "I’m serious," he said after my wild giggles died down. "I love you. I know I’m a kid or whatever, but when we grow up I’m going to marry you Y/n L/n.”

I had blushed so hard. "You won’t."

He had grinned. "Bet." I would soon learn that that word was always followed by a fierce, driven action. One that he would do no matter what obstacles stood in his way.

And yet, it seemed, something had stood in the way of that first promise. That first challenge he’d so fervently accepted, grinning as wide and mischievously as if I’d just challenged him to a race or an eating competition.

How silly it all seemed now, to believe that an immature love born in near childhood could ever surpass to adulthood. Ridiculous, that I believed we would really make it.

We hadn’t talked in weeks. I saw him at school but I’d long realized he was avoiding me and didn’t want to talk to me. I’d tried to face him a ton of times. First to tell him off, and then just to get answers. Were we even still together? The one time I finally caught up with him he snapped at me that I wasn’t getting the message and then broke up with me. In front of all of his new friends. Sam Uley and that gang. Yeah, I’d remembered where I’d heard the name before. Sam Uley, the ring leader of the gang that before Embry had only mentioned with loathing. He stood there with his buddies, not even looking at me as he sneered at me to get lost.

He seemed normal otherwise. His hair he cut short and he kissed a surprising amount of school but otherwise he seemed to be pretty upbeat and positive around Sam and the others.

Our love was fiery and passionate and full of life and fun. Few boundaries or hesitation. It was impossible not to fall for him. Too thrilling and enticing. It had lasted just long enough to make me believe that it would go forever, too. Just long enough to make me dare believe, even after all of the warnings and promises and attempts of other people that tried to get through my skull. I still believed. Defended Embry and me and us.

I guess we were as doomed as everyone had said...

-

Forever Tag List: @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21

#embry call #red #taylor swift #song prompt #wolf pack #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #part one #imagine #x reader #kiowa gordon

[literallyusuk]

Cowboy Casanova (USUK) Chapter 2

[Chapter 1]

The windows to his room faced east and had no blinds, so Arthur was woken up early by the blinding rays of the sun. Cursing the bed’s position, he stretched and got up, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. He could hear faint noises from downstairs, so he went down to investigate. He peeked into the kitchen and saw Elizaveta working alongside a few other women, preparing breakfast.

“Good morning Liz, misses,” he said, bowing slightly to them.

Elizaveta looked up from her work and smiled at him. “Good morning, Arthur! Did you sleep well?”

“It was fine during the night, but the sun was a tad strong this morning. Would you mind if I moved the bed later?”

“Oh, sure. Meanwhile, do you want to help with breakfast?”

Arthur eagerly agreed and stepped into the kitchen, ready to show them what he knew. A few minutes and a minor fire later, he was politely thrown out of the room.

“Stick to mixing drinks, Mister Englishman,” one of them called after him.

“I can cook! Your materials are just different to what I’m used to!” Arthur protested as the swinging doors closed behind him.

Elizaveta emerged a few seconds later, an amused glint in her eyes. “I’m sure that’s the case, Arthur. But I think it’s best you stick to barkeeping.”

After eating a quick breakfast, Arthur moved back behind the bar to prepare for any people who wanted tea or coffee. There weren’t that many people there, so after a while and with Elizaveta’s permission, he closed it and went off to take a look around the town. It wasn’t a very big settlement, so he walked around all of it fairly quickly, and when he was on his way back he ran into Alfred. The American was leading Star, and it looked as if he was going out of town. Arthur was glad to see a familiar face because some of the other people had been giving him strange looks.

“Hiya, Artie!” Alfred called out when he noticed him, leading the pinto mare over.

Arthur felt a small smile come to his face. Alfred wasn’t wearing his hat, and the Englishman noticed that there was one strand of his hair that stuck up into the air. “Hello, Alfred,” he said pleasantly. “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, just some personal stuff,” Alfred responded, grinning. Star took the opportunity to push forward and nose around Arthur’s pockets for treats, lipping at his sleeve along the way. “Hah, she likes you! That means you’re a good guy!”

“Of course I am.” Arthur scoffed, but smiled at the mare and reached up to scratch her neck. She responded by leaning into him and nearly knocking him over.

Alfred quickly reached out and grasp his arm, steadying him before he tipped over too much. “Whoa there, steady on,” he said with a small chuckle and a firm push at Star’s withers, sending her back a step. “So, Artie, did ya have any luck with that job?”

“My name is Arthur, not Artie. And yes, I’m the new barkeep at Elizaveta’s saloon,” Arthur said, flushing slightly at the contact.

“New barkeep, huh?” Alfred frowned at the news. Then, his brow furrowed even more as he leaned in close to him. “Hey, are you feeling okay? You got a bit red in the face there.” He let go of Star’s reins and placed his other hand on Arthur’s shoulder, inspecting him from all angles. “Is it the sun?”

Arthur turned even redder at this. “N-No, I’m fine. Why did you frown before?”

“See? Now you’re even worse! Bet you’re not used to the sun in England, right? Come on, into the shade we go.” Alfred led him into the canopy of a nearby saloon porch, Star following obediently behind.

“No, I’m fine- You really don’t need to- Alfred, really- Oh, sod it,” Arthur muttered. The cowboy was much stronger than him, so his protests didn’t stand much of a chance. “There, I’m out of the sun, so will you tell me what you bloody meant about the barkeeping thing?”

“Oh, that. I’ll tell ya about it later, okay? Now let’s get you some water.” Alfred disappeared inside the saloon before Arthur had time to protest him again, leaving him alone with the pinto. He was back moments later with a glass half full of water. “Here ya go!”

“Thank you…” Arthur took it and drank, but his blush had disappeared the moment Alfred had let him go.

“Yup. See, you look better already! I gotta go now, but I’ll stop by Lizzie’s later. When you’re done with that, just return the glass inside.” With a final grin, he mounted up and rode away.

“Bye…” Arthur looked after him for a moment before refocusing intensely at his glass, lost in thought.

After a few moments, he finally finished it and carried the glass back inside before heading back to Elizaveta’s. The saloon was mostly empty, the men still being at the mines, but there was a small group of women in the corner, chatting. Arthur quickly strode up to his room to grab his sketchbook and then opened up the bar. He served the women tea and coffee, made some tea for himself, and settled down behind the bar with the book.

He first sketched out the inside of the saloon, to get warmed up and back in practice. Once he was done with that, he moved onto people. To begin, he drew the likenesses of the women in the corner, then Elizaveta, and finally he tried out Alfred’s face from memory. He could recall what the blond looked like quite well, and the charcoal moved smoothly across the paper. The women didn’t call him over for a refill and the saloon was otherwise empty, so he was left undisturbed. It was nearing the late afternoon when the doors swung inwards and Arthur caught a flash of familiar blond hair.

“Alfred!” he called out, a smile coming to his face as he hid the book behind the bar.

Well, perhaps the blond hair wasn’t all that familiar. The man turned to him and Arthur saw that it wasn’t Alfred at all, although they looked very similar. There were noticeable differences as he approached. This man’s eyes were a deeper, purpler blue, and his hair was longer and wavier. He also had a stray strand of hair, but instead of sticking up, it fell forward over his face and somehow managed to loop at the end.

“Hello,” the man said, and Arthur could immediately tell the difference in the voice. “You must have me confused with my brother. I’m Matthew Williams, but you can call me Mattie if you wish.” Matthew held out his hand.

“I’m terribly sorry for that, Matthew, but you look very much alike, especially from a distance,” Arthur said, taking the proffered hand and shaking it. “Hold on a tick, did you say Williams?” he suddenly asked. “I thought Alfred’s last name was Jones.”

Matthew just smiled. “Happens all the time. And it’s a long story, but I took our mother’s last name while Alfred kept our father’s.”

Arthur thought he could detect the slightest hint of bitterness behind that smile, but he didn’t press the matter. “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked instead.

“Coffee please, thanks.” Once it was ready, Matthew took the steaming cup to a corner of the room.

More people came and went as the day went on, and Arthur forgot about him in the rush. However, when he looked into the corner about an hour later it was vacant, and the empty coffee cup was sitting on the edge of the bar. Alfred did come in later, and Arthur brightened again.

“Hello, Alfred,” he said, glad he had the right sibling this time.

“Hey, Artie! Lookin’ good there, but isn’t that Gilbert’s?” Alfred replied, settling down onto a stool in front of him.

Arthur paused in his motions. “Gilbert? Wasn’t he one of the outlaws? I heard Elizaveta mention him as well. Who is he?”

Alfred shifted on his seat, looking uncomfortable. “It ain’t really my place to tell that story…”

“It’s alright, he deserves to know if he’ll be staying and working here,” Elizaveta said as she passed them.

“Are you sure, Liz? Wouldn’t you rather tell him yourself?” Alfred asked.

“No. I don’t mind if you do, and I don’t really have time right now anyway.” She went off to the corner to deliver her platter to the women.

“So?” Arthur prodded lightly. “What’s the story with this Gilbert character?”

“A beer first, Artie,” Alfred said with a wink. “Gotta keep up the appearance of work, after all.”

Arthur flushed lightly and got him the drink before taking a seat on his own stool behind the bar. “Right. There you are.”

“Thanks!” Alfred said cheerfully, but then sobered up. “Okay, so y’know how there are a lotta different types of people here? The town’s like a homing beacon for immigrants. Queers too,” he muttered, then shook his head. “Well, Liz, Roderich, Gilbert, and Ludwig came here together a few years ago. Ludwig’s Gilbert’s younger brother, see. They used to live together, but Ludwig went off on his own soon after that, didn’t want that much to do with the other three. I guess he could sense all the tension. Liz and Roddy weren’t married yet, and there was a lot of stress between the three of ‘em for a while. I don’t really know the details that well, but one thing led to another, and Liz married Roderich and Gilbert was left alone and pissed off. He was the original barkeep here, you know. He was good, and everyone liked him. But you could see the stress getting to him from watchin’ Liz and Roderich together. I guess eventually he snapped, and lucky for him, Ivan was in need of a new right-hand man, so Gilbert went off with him and now they’re outlaws together.”

Arthur stayed silent for the whole story, and he bit his lip thoughtfully when the American finished. “You seem to know a lot about the going-ons of this place. And about Ivan.”

“I had a history with Ivan,” Alfred replied shortly. “But that’s long over and done with.”

Arthur flinched back at the venom in his voice. “I see. Thank you for telling me.” He stood and busied himself with cleaning glasses.

“No problem. How are ya liking it here so far?” Alfred asked, back to his usual cheerful self after a few moments.

“It’s nice here. I think I’ll stay for a while. I can see myself getting used to this lifestyle and these people, surprisingly.”

“Why’s it such a surprise?”

“It’s so different to the city here,” Arthur said. “A good different,” he added quickly as he noticed the defensive look on Alfred’s face.

Alfred brightened, accepting the answer. “I think we could all get used to you too. You know how I said the barkeeps rotated a lot ‘round here? I think you’ll last pretty long,” he said with a wink.

Colour rose to the Englishman’s cheeks again. “Thank you, Alfred. Oh, I met your brother earlier. He seemed nice.”

“Mattie? Yeah, he’s awesome. Quiet, but awesome. I help him run the livery when I’ve got time.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Mattie owns the livery?”

“Yeah. He’s got a real soft touch with the wild horses. You should see him work, he’s like a whole different person. Everyone goes to him if their horse has got issues.” Alfred’s eyes shone when he talked, the pride for his brother ringing clearly in them.

“And you?”

The cowboy grinned. “I go huntin’ for new horses in the desert and break ‘em in if they’re too much for even Mattie to handle. Star used to be a broomtail, but she’s a dream now.”

“Broomtail?”

“Wild mare. She was the toughest to break. You wouldn’t tell by her now, would ya?” Alfred chuckled.

Arthur echoed his chuckles, smiling a bit. “No, she’s really well-mannered.”

“You got a real nice smile, Artie,” Alfred said softly, his blue eyes fixed on the Englishman.

Arthur coughed and flushed, averting his eyes. “T-Thank you,” he said, taking a new glass and furiously cleaning it as well.

Alfred finished the beer and slid the glass over to him, along with a few coins. Thanks, Artie. I gotta go now, help out a bit.”

“Wait- One more question. What were doing this morning, if you don’t mind me asking?” Arthur called out, recovered. He set down the glass and reached out over the bar as if to stop the taller blond.

“I spotted this real nice-looking mare a few days ago. I’m gonna try and catch her. No luck today, but I’ll be out there again tomorrow,” Alfred replied, backtracking towards the door. “G’night, Artie!” He spun around, raised a hand in farewell, and was gone.

Arthur raised his hand in return, though Alfred didn’t see it. “Good night,” he said softy and was somewhat surprised to notice a warm feeling in his chest. He pushed the feeling down and turned his attention back to the bar.

The group of women left soon after that, but one of them stayed behind and went up to the bar. She was a little shorter than Arthur, and had pale blond hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a ruffled red and black dress that was tight-fitting on top and poofy on the bottom.

“Hello there. Artie, right?”

“It’s Arthur, actually.”

“I’m Jane. I’d be careful around Alfred, if I were you,” she said sweetly.

Arthur stared at her. “I- Excuse me?”

“You fancy him, right?” Jane asked, not skipping a beat. She leaned on the counter. “Don’t worry, no one really cares if you’re queer or not. Seems half the town is. But just be on your guard around him. I know him, and he ain’t as sweet and innocent as he seems.” With that, she left.

Arthur was left staring still. He did suppose he fancied Alfred, now that he thought about it. The cowboy had a near perfect body after all, and he’d been nothing but amicable towards Arthur since the Englishman had arrived at the town. Granted, that was only yesterday, but Arthur had of course heard of crushes. He was also not above being shallow enough to appreciate someone’s good lucks. Yes, Alfred was definitely handsome and cheerful. And God, that smile… He quickly quashed those thoughts. Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Arthur, he scolded himself. You don’t even know for sure yet.

Luckily for Arthur, a few more people entered the bar then and busied him, including a few travellers. The Englishman chatted with them and from them learned that Ivan had robbed a bank in a nearby town that day, injuring three people. He made a mental note to tell Alfred later and tried to pump the travellers for information on the Russian’s whereabouts, but they didn’t know too many details. They left a few minutes later, and Arthur closed down not long after that.

#hetalia #usuk #aph america #aph england #hetalia fanfiction #chapters

[frolwriting]

Home Part 1

Hey guys!  I am back with another chapter of A Whole New World!  I’m sorry I didn’t post this last night.  I meant to and forgot.  Anyways, I don’t really have much to say, so enjoy the chapter!

Fandom: Supernatural

Series: A Whole New World

Pairing: ?

Warnings: A Cuss Word

_______________________________________________________________________

It has been about a month since we had the skinwalker case. I've been a lot more careful on hunts since I'm not sure I can trust them to care about me anymore. I know Sam doesn't really trust me all that much, and Dean will listen to his brother more than he'll listen to me. I've stayed in my own room and getting some cash here and there from doing different things. I've just been preparing for the worst. I was sitting in my hotel room when I heard a knock at my door. I grabbed my gun and looked into the peephole. Thankfully, it was Dean on the other side of the door. I put my gun down and opened the door.

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked.

"Sam found a case. We're heading out in five." He says as he walks back to their room. I grab the few things that weren't in my duffel bag or suitcase and head out to the Impala. Dean was packing stuff into the trunk, and Sam was already in the car. I hand my stuff over to Dean and get into my usual spot in the back.

"Where are we headed?" I asked Sam once I get in.

"Kansas." Oh, we're at this hunt. I bet this is the hunt where we go back to their old house.

"What kind of hunt is it?" I ask.

"Not sure yet, but some weird things are going on." Dean then got into the car, and we pulled out of the hotel. It took us about 3 hours, and we were in Lawrence, Kansas. I knew it. We pulled up to a nice looking house that I could only guess is the house where the boys spent their lives before Mary died. "You gonna be all right, man?"

"Let me get back to you on that." Dean says as we get out of the car. We head up to the door and knock on it. A woman answers it. I turned to look at Sam. He looks surprised.

"Yes?" She asks.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean starts.

"I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean, and our friend Kate. Me and my brother used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place. We also wanted to show Kate the old house she hears so much about."

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night. I think there might be a picture with a Kate as well." My doppelganger? This should prove something to the guys, hopefully.

"You did?" Dean asks. The lady nods and steps aside to let us in.

"Come on in." We go inside and head into the kitchen. "I'm Jenny by the way." There was a little girl at the table writing. A little boy was in a playpen jumping up and down.

"Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" The little boy was yelling.

"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie." Jenny says as she grabs a sippy cup out of the fridge and gives it to Ritchie. "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." She walks over to the little girl. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Kate. Sam and Dean used to live here."

"Hi." Sari says. I wave at her.

"Hey, Sari." Sam says.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, from Wichita." Jenny says.

"You got family here, or...?" Dean asks.

"No. I just, uh...needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job-I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."

"So, how you liking it so far?" Sam asks.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home-I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here, but this place has its issues."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asks.

"Um...sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement." Pause. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Dean asks.

"It's just the scratching, actually."

"Mom?" Sari asks. Jenny goes over to her and kneels down. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."

"What, Sari?" Sam asks.

"The thing in my closet."

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets." Jenny says. She looks at us. "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not." Sam says.

"She had a nightmare the other night."

"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom-and it was on fire." We all looked at each other when Sari said that. We walked around the house a bit and then head back outside.

"You hear that? A figure on fire." Sam says.

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asks.

"Yeah and you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering light, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true."

"Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?" Sam asks panicked.

"I don't know!" Dean exclaims.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam asks.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet."

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get 'em out of that house."

"And we will." I say.

"No, I mean now."

"And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?" Dean asks.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asks. We hop into the Impala and head to a gas station.

"We just got to chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asks as we pull up. Sam just sighed.

"We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." Sam says.

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened." Dean says.

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asks.

"About that night, you mean?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Not much. I remember the fire...the heat." Dean pauses. "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Dean asks.

"No." Sam says shaking his head.

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling, and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asks.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean says.

"Okay. So, if we're going to figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then and see if it's the same thing."

"Yeah, we'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean says. There was silence for a bit.

"Does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asks. Dean doesn't say anything for a second, but then opens his door and gets out.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." There was awkward silence till Dean got back. I knew Dean wasn't going to the bathroom, but I wasn't about to say anything about it. Sam pulled out John's journal and was looking through a list of contacts.

"I found someone we can go talk to. He works for an auto shop not too far from here." Sam says as Dean gets back in. Dean nods and pulls out of the gas station. We headed to the auto repair shop that Sam was talking about. Sam went up to the front desk and asks for the owner of this place. After a while, a man walks up to us.

"I'm Isaac the owner of this shop. What can I do for you?" He asks wiping his hands on a towel.

"I'm Detective Hoffman. This is Detective Strauss, and this is our intern Kate. We are here investigating the disappearce of John Winchester." The man got a bit tense when Sam said that. "We understand that he used to work here." Isaac put his towel down.

"Yes, he did work here. We used to be co-owners of this place." I didn't remember that about John, but it makes sense. "That was a long time ago. It must be, about twenty years since John disappeared. Why are the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"Oh, we're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of 'em." Dean says.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?"

"Well, whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind."

"Well...he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." Isaac laughed. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing." We all nod. "But, oh, he sure loved Mary, and he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Sam asked.

"That's right."

"He ever talk about that night?"

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock."

"Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said somethin' caused that fire and killed Mary."

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asked.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident-an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but..."

"But what?"

"Oh, he just got worse and worse."

"How?"

"Oh, he started readin' these strange ol' books. He started goin' to see this palm reader in town."

"Palm reader? Uh, do you have a name?" I asked pulling out my little notebook I got a week ago. Isaac scoffed.

"No."

"Thank you for your time Mr. Isaac." Dean said as we headed out to the Impala. We parked next to the nearest payphone, which was weird in of itself, and Sam started looking through a phonebook. Again weird.

"All right, so there's a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's uh," Sam laughed as he read it. "There's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Mosely-"

"Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?" Dean said as he interrupted Sam.

"What?" Sam asked confused.

"That's a psychic?" Dean asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Kate, hand me Dad's journal." I reached over and handed him the journal. "In Dad's journal...here, look at this." He said as he opened to the first page. "First page, first sentence, read that."

"I went to Missouri, and I learned the truth." Sam read out loud.

"I always thought he meant the state." We exchanged looks and headed for Missouri's house. Once we got to the house Missouri let us in straight away. She led us to a sitting room and had us sit on a couch, while she escorted a man out. She came back shortly after.

"Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him?" I asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." There was silence for a moment. "Well? Sam and Dean and friend, come on already, I ain't got all day." She left the room, and we assumed we should probably follow her. "Well, lemme look at ya." She laughed. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She points at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." Dean just glared at her. "Sam." She said as she grabbed his hand. "Oh, honey...I'm sorry about your girlfriend." Then she turned to me. "Your name is Kate. You've got something special hangin' around you." I looked at her confused. I hadn't stated my name yet. She turned back to the boys. "And your father-he's missin'?"

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now."

"Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Bull crap. He's here somewhere. I know it.

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." We sit down at her table. She snaps at Dean. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon." I had to hold back a giggle.

"I didn't do anything." Dean said.

"But you were thinkin' about it."

"Okay. So, our dad-when did you first meet him?" Sam asked.

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say...I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?" Dean asked.

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked.

"I..." Missouri said as she shook her head.

"What was it?" I asked even though I already knew what it was.

"I don't know. Oh, but it was evil." Sam then went on to explain some things that led us here. Not the visions though. "So...you think somethin' is back in that house?"

"Definitely." Sam said.

"I don't understand." Missouri said confused.

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"

"I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once-it just feels like something's starting." Oh you have no idea. I knew Missouri could read my thoughts, but the boys sure can't.

"That's a comforting thought." Dean said.

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #spn #sam x reader #dean x reader #a whole new world #its gonna be sam #or is it dean?

[theunnamedlizardrogue]

Chapter 3: A Change of Pace

The lizard wakes up. He feels exhausted, the events of last night got to him. How do people have parties like every night? It must be crazy functioning on such a low level of sleep. After passing out on a bedspread yesterday; it takes the lizard a pretty good while to actually get out of bed. The guild feels so homely that the lizard would rather sleep than face the bracing cold outside today. He’d lie that he forgot to take off his scarf last night when he fell asleep, but he’d be wearing it anyway. It’s almost part of his skin at this point.

He begins the day by brewing a cup of tea aaaaaand Snakes bursts through the door. “Up and at ‘em, Scales! We got a busy day ahead” Snakes claps his hands together. That was quick. He’s obviously eager for the day ahead. “Yeah yeah, just let me get up at least” The lizard rubs his eyes. There’s a glint in Snakes’ eye “Well, how wonderful of ya to brew a drink for your fellow rogues” “But I’m making it for mys-” And with that, Snakes drags the lizard out of the door, despite his loud exclamations. It was a shame, that was his favourite cup. Whoever’ll get the drink better be grateful.

“Got everything? A rope, a knapsack, all that?” The lizard toys with his scarf as he walks “yeah, but I might wanna bring along my bow for this one.” “Your bow?” Snakes looks curiously. “Some people never realise the true extent of improvisation. Or am I not the best actor hunter… whatever that was” He rubs his eyes again. Two jobs in five hours is always fun. Snakes lets out an exaggerated sigh “I can’t tell what you love more at this rate, that bow or your scarf” “The scarf. More improvisations!” the lizard taps his finger against his head. “Such as?” “When can a bow look stylish?” “Admit it, you’re just a sucker for fashion.” Both of them laugh.

After they finish their preparations, the pair arrive at the entrance. The lizard’s both looking forward and dreading to this moment. The door opens.

The town’s bustling, as usual. It’s amazing what a rogue can get away with in these walls. With this crowd, it’d be a wonderful time to do some wandering and thieving honest purchases! The rule is always play your favourites. It’s fine to steal from an arrogant merchant, but always be sure to support your local libraries! There’s an argument in the streets, over the price of some fruit. It isn’t exactly loud, the man complaining is actually just hiding his bartering. The lizard can hear a song come from the inn he left. Gossip about local happenings, and… the party last night? Snakes wasn’t kidding, word does spread fast.

As any good rogue would do, Snakes knows the way to their destination perfectly. He even knows which alleyways to take and what times the guard would be patrolling. It’s impressive just being around him. He can make it look like the two fit into a crowd with little-to-no effort at all. Snakes steps to one side, signalling they’ve arrived. The place the package is at is in a church? Huh, it’d be the most inconspicuous place if you’d do it correctly. The lizard almost opens the door to the church but snakes puts a hand in front of him. “Wrong place, what we’re aiming for is up there!” He points at the top of the church, in the middle of a church steeple. “You’re… kidding, right? Is this another test?” “All jobs are tests of your skill, if you look at it right!” The lizard sighs. Snakes’ just trying to make sure his skills improve, it’s a nice gesture. Though a nice gesture involving urban climbing at about eight in the morning. Snakes has already begun to climb the walls, looking for grips. The lizard takes a second to observe his surroundings. A rope’s already been set up at a near building to the spire. A present from whomever delivered the package, he guesses.  That’ll be interesting to remember. He follows his father’s footsteps, literally, as he begins to climb the wall.

At the top, the lizard is panting. Both of them are, really. It was quite a good distance to climb, even for a reptile and a feline. The package is right at their feet but both of them agree to take a second to breathe.

The lizard is first to get back up and picks up the package. As he turns to snakes, the package is gone before he knows it. Snakes, holding the package, pulls out a key and kneels down, unlocking a latch. He runs down the spiral and locks the hatch again from beneath. It takes a second for the lizard to register what happened, even in his sleep deprived state. “Wait… YOU’RE TELLING ME WE COULDA TAKEN THE STAIRS?” The lizard shouts There’s a laugh from below the lizard’s feet. The lizard smirks. Well, if that’s how he wants to play it.

As he hears the footsteps of his father below the floor, the lizard looks up and sees the rope at the top. He takes off his scarf and slings it around the rope. Here’s hoping it’s sturdy! He jumps, the world feels like it’s going faster than the speed of sound. The lizard howls in glee. As he comes to the end of the rope, he moves his feet in front and collides with the building. Falling gracefully to the ground, Snakes finally exits the church. He looks astonished. “I thought you woulda picked the lock or something” The leopard-man lets out a laugh. “Well you know what they say…” The lizard proudly shows his scarf “More improvis-“ Snakes runs past him. “Wha-… COME ON, I HAD A WITTY ONE-LINER.” The lizard wails as he follows suit.  

The chase breaks into the morning merchant crowd. People jump in surprise as the two are vaulting over tables. The lizard slides under a desk and already sees snakes at the opposite side of the road, waving smugly.   Godsdamn, the man’s fifty-four and yet it’s like trying to catch an arrow... Aha! An idea springs to mind. Unfortunately for snakes, he doesn’t notice he’s standing directly under a net filled with produce. The lizard pulls out a bow and knocks an arrow. He takes a deep breath while he runs and takes the shot. It strikes perfectly. He never knew why he was naturally gifted with a bow. Snakes is pelted by approximately fifteen watermelons, but he’s already running, covered in watermelon juice. He bursts through an open door, and more screams come from inside. The lizard runs after, shouting “Sorry”, as he disturbs three households. This goes on for almost a block. Finally, they come back to an open street. But… where’s snakes? It’s almost impossible to track a rogue who’s been doing his job straight for twenty years. Hmm, they ran onto a dirt road. Maybe if… Crap, he knows the lizard too well, he ran through a crowd, hiding his boot-prints amongst the others. Well, time to find something.

It takes three minutes. Nothing. Damn, Snakes caught him out this time. A man calls to the lizard. The lizard walks up to him. Guy looks like he’s in his early forties, experienced. Almost… sticks out in this crowd. There’s a subtle scar on his lip. Black haired, starting to grey. “Kid, are you looking for a catguy carrying a package?” He looks at the lizard’s clothing. They’re the same as snakes’ so it’d be easy to assume but… something about this guy makes the lizard feel off, he must obviously be the competition that snakes was talking about. The lizard slowly nods. “Ah, I saw him running through that building.” When he points at the door, suddenly Snakes’ tracks become crystal clear. “Thanks.” The lizard runs, but when he passes the door, he closes it and bolts it shut. That’ll keep that man busy. The package will be home in no time. Whilst the lizard may be back on track, there’s a wide distance between the two. The lizard sighs, he’s lost this one. Might as well just walk back and accept his defeat.

Everything feels quieter on the walk back to the guild. It could be intentional, would make sense not to lose the package in a crowd. The lizard can hear the distant chatter of two guards. Maybe from the run earlier. The rogues’ guild is coming up. Hopefully the stash of teabags haven’t been used up yet.

There’s a… yelp? A yelp is quieter than this. That’s a scream. A blood-curdling one. Wait. What? The lizard runs, what’s happened? What’s happening? This wasn’t intentional. It sounds like, but the, is it from falling? Falls happen all the time, I once cut myself from a gargoyle, I think that the, it’ll be okay, I can’t, what’s, is it bad, Is, what, I cannot

The lizard turns the corner. It’s the street opposite from the guild.

Snakes lies in a crumpled heap, neck thick with crimson. A man calls to the lizard. Guy looks like he’s in his early forties, experienced. Almost… sticks out. He’s holding a blood-soaked knife.

“Looks like you found him, Kid.”

Chapter 4: https://theunnamedlizardrogue.tumblr.com/post/172206117186/chapter-4-volta

#dnd #fantasy #writing #my writing #lizard #rogue #adventure #Chapter

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The New World - Part 4

Here’s part 4, hopefully, you all enjoy xox

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Daryl x Reader, Daryl x Maggie, Maggie X Reader, Daryl x Glenn, Negan x All

Warnings: Implied smut, language, Canon-Violence, Canon-divergence, some fluffy moments with Daddy Daryl, some comic crossover story

Word Count: 3547

Daryl put his cup of coffee on the counter and folded you into him. He gazed down at you with a smile and expression that was full of love and pride.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he kissed you gently and you both laughed when Maggie made a gagging sound.

“I knew that wouldn’t take long…” she rolled her eyes and put down her mug of tea. “But now ain’t the time. Rick’s waitin’ at the church for us.”

“This about what happened yesterday?” you asked, the feeling of anxiety returning to your stomach. “You guys really think that prick had something to do with it?”

“I do,” Maggie answered, pushing her shoulders back, “somehow, he did it. He’s got someone here helpin’ him. We just gotta figure out who?”

“Yesterday, walkers got through the gates,” Rick’s voice boomed through the hollows of the church, “now, we don’t know exactly how that happened but trust me when I tell you, we are going to figure it all out.”

The murmurs grew louder and Rick waited a moment or two before continuing. He turned to give Michonne a tentative look, who was standing behind him up near the pulpit. She gave him a single nod, and barely-there smile, but it was all the Sheriff needed to continue.

“We are working on making sure it never happens again. Luckily, no one was hurt, but we are aware that many of you were unprepared. I want everyone to have a knife on them at all times. However, given the circumstances, until we figure out exactly what happened, only those on guard duty either at the wall or the prison will be armed with guns.”

The murmurs grew again, but Rick didn’t give them a chance to get carried away. “Listen, listen… I know how you feel. I don’t really like it either. But, we do have a prisoner within the walls, and while he’s been quiet for a while now, it doesn’t mean he’s not capable of trouble. So, again, until we can get it sorted out, everyone carries a knife to protect themselves against walkers, but only guards are to be armed.”

When the voices started to swell again, Maggie acted.

“Please, listen to Rick,” Maggie called out while standing up. “Negan is dangerous. We can’t be caught off guard again. Just give Rick a few days and we can fill everyone in on what he finds,” Maggie looked at the Sheriff and he gave her an appreciative nod.

“That’s it for now,” he spoke up again, “head back to whatever you had planned and carry on as usual. Just have a knife at the ready and eyes open at all times.”

Alexandrians slowly streamed from the church, but you Daryl, Maggie and Glenn hung back with Rick and Michonne.

“They don’t seem happy,” you said, looking between your friends trying to read their faces.

“No, they ain’t, but I know that asshole is behind this. Just gotta find out who lured the guards off the wall. I wanna talk to him again,” Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. “Just give me five fucking minutes with the prick.”

You flashed Daryl a warning glance, but if he saw it he didn’t react. “No way you’re going in there by yourself.”

“No, she’s right Daryl, you leave him be. I got a few ideas of how to handle him.” Rick gave the archer a look that warned him to steer clear. But you knew better than anyone that when Daryl got a notion in his head, it was hard for him to let it go and that realization was enough to start the anxiety growing in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m… I’m gonna go grab some supplies from the pantry. If you guys work shit out, let me know.” The sudden need to leave the church hit you like a ton of bricks. The thought of Daryl going face to face with the psychopath in the cell made you cringe. The idea that he was itching to do it simply made you crazy.

Since the war ended with the Saviors, and Negan was locked up, Daryl had been anxious to get time alone with him. He wanted to get even for the hell that Negan put everyone through, but mostly, he wanted justice for Abraham.

“Y/N,” Daryl called after you, “you alright?”

“Yeah, just need to get some lunch for the kids, forgot to stop there yesterday. I’ll catch you back home.” Your need for fresh air was overwhelming, so you turned quickly to leave before anyone else could stop you.

Walking quickly down the street, you came to a stop at the road, where you’d turn for the pantry. Instead, you walked straight towards where the prisoner lived. Rosita stood with her gun propped against her shoulder outside the door.

“Anything from him today?” you asked her.

“Nope,” was all Rosita would say as she gave a cursory glance into the door. “He’s been quiet.”

“Great,” you said and turned to walk away before she could pick up on the sardonic tone of your voice. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Later that afternoon, you walked into the house with an armload of pantry supplies and heard familiar voices drifting in from the dining room. Rounding the corner, you saw Daryl leaning against the wall, while Rick, Glenn, Maggie and Michonne sat around your table with serious faces.

The conversation stopped when you entered the room, and you felt a little taken aback.

“I guess the public portion of the crisis management plan is over, now we’re onto the inner circle briefing I see,” you tried to crack a joke but only Daryl offered you a smile.

“Hey,” he kissed your head and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“So, what’s happening?” you asked, looking back and forth between them waiting for someone to give you a straight answer.

Rick stood up from the table, along with Michonne and started walking towards the door. “We gotta get over to the jail, gonna be puttin’ two guards on him at all times now. Daryl will fill you in on the rest. We’re gonna get it all sorted out Y/N, I promise.”

The sheriff smiled and nodded once in Daryl’s direction. Michonne touched your shoulder and squeezed it as she followed Rick through the front door.

Maggie and Glenn stood up next also headed towards the front door.

“Where’s Hershel?” you asked looking down the hallway, “where are all the kids for that matter?”

“They’re still with Enid,” Maggie said picking up her jacket off the chair. “Gonna head over there to grab ‘em soon. Want me to keep Abe and Shelby for a bit?” Maggie was looking to Daryl now, and that familiar feeling of anxiety that had already taken root was growing by the minute.

Daryl nodded, “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks. I’ll come by and grab ‘em later.”

“Hey,” Maggie turned to you and took her hand. “Just hear him out, okay? Remember what we talked about last night?” You nodded your head at your best friend and she gave your hand one last squeeze.

Daryl followed them to the front door and closed it softly. When he came back into the room, you could see he had a lot on his mind, and no matter what it was, it couldn’t be good.

“Alright, out with it. What’s Rick’s plan and how long will you be gone?”

Daryl laughed, shaking his head enough for his hair to obscure his eyes. He absently brushed it from his face and pulled out a chair for you to sit in.

“Shit, you want me to sit down… this can’t be good,” your voice was shaky and no matter how hard you tried to quell your nerves, you couldn’t.

“Rick thinks we should go talk to Ezekiel and Jesus. See if they’ve been havin’ any trouble like we did the other day. We can’t prove shit with Negan yet… chances are its him. But, what if it’s not? Rick would feel better if we talk to them both.”

“So, a trip to The Kingdom and The Hilltop?” you settled a little at that idea, though you knew it would be a rather long trip. Rick and Daryl had ventured to those communities many times over the years since things had been settled with the Saviors. “Ok, that’s not so bad. When do you and Rick leave?”

“Rick ain’t goin’. He wants to stay here. Him, Michonne, Carl, Rosita… they’re gonna keep a close eye on Negan,” Daryl sighed and leaned forward on the table. Finding your hand and taking it in his, he locked eyes with you, and you knew that there was something more.

“What? What aren’t you telling me?” Daryl covered your hand with both of his and let a soft smile touch his lips.

“I want you and the kids to come. Maggie and Glenn too…” Your whole body tensed and Daryl saw it. “Y/N, this is what we talked about. Getting the kids out beyond the walls...”

“Yes, I know. But, I thought maybe right beyond the walls, in the surrounding woods. Not a two-day trip back and forth to the Kingdom and another to the Hilltop. That’s a lot for them. Hell, it’s a lot for anyone.”

“Think about what they could see and experience. The Kingdom has other kids, and Ezekiel has expanded that place a lot since you were there last. He’s got them learning archery, ’specially the young ones. There’s even a shootin’ range within their walls now.”

Burying your face in your hands, you could feel the constriction starting in your chest. Even though Daryl was right, and you had acknowledged that, the idea of traveling that far with Abe and Shelby was beyond frightening.

“Daryl, you said Rick is staying behind. I think the kids and I should stay, you and Glenn go. If Maggie wants too, fine, Hershel can stay here with me. But, I just don’t think…”

Daryl stood up suddenly, the chair kicking back harder than he intended. The frustration was clearly written across his furrowed brow.

“No.” His hands were on his hips as he started pacing back and forth. “I ain’t going without ya, ‘n I gotta go, so…”

“Daryl, please. You can go and when you get back, we can talk about the best way to start teaching them whatever –”

“No! You ain’t hearin’ me woman, you’re goin’ and so are they,” he exhaled and you could tell he was trying to calm himself down.

“Why? Whys is it so important that this be it… that we all go?!”

“Because you’re my goddamn wife ‘n I fuckin’ want you with me!” he growled, immediately regretting the force with which he said it.

Despite his explosive nature in that moment, you felt a swell of love and pride in the man standing in front of you. Through the long fringes of hair, his eyes found yours and you could see his body noticeably relax once your gazes locked.

“I always just want you with me,” Daryl’s voice cracked.

Standing up from the chair, you wrapped your hands around his biceps and rubbed them lightly.

“That’s the first time you ever called me that,” you smirked and swallowed hard, trying to keep the swirl of emotion to not overtake the moment.

Daryl hung his head, and gently nudged his forehead to yours. Pulling back, he rubbed a thumb over your cheek and drew in a deep breath.

“I know I never really did it proper,” he shrugged one shoulder, his voice softer, “never got ya a ring or had a big party or nothin’. But, your still as much my wife as Maggie is Glenn’s… or Michonne is Rick’s.”

“I don’t need any of that Daryl. I’ve thought of you as my husband the second Shelby was born,” you rested your forehead to his chest and drew in a deep breath of him. Feeling his arms wrap around you made you feel like you could do or be anything. You could be his wife, the mother of his children, and brave enough to take on all that meant.

“Somethin’ like this, somethin’ this big, I don’t think I coulda done it with anyone else. Bein’ someone’s dad… somebody’s husband. It’s a lot. But you make me wanna do it. You make me wanna be somebody y’all can count on. I’d die before I let ya down.”

“You never have Daryl and you never will. I don’t think it’s even possible.” You reached up and left a soft kiss on his lips, and he returned it in kind. When you parted, you caught the gaze in your husband’s azure eyes. You wanted to give him as much as he’s given you, and knew that there was no way you could deny what he wanted so badly. “So, when do we leave?”

“Really?” a slow smile unfolded on his face.

“Yeah, really. Let’s do it. The first annual Dixon and Rhee family vacation is a go!” you laughed as Daryl ran a hand through the top of your hair, down to your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Daryl’s mouth was already open as it crashed onto yours, ready to devour you. His embrace tightened on you, nearly knocking you over and your laughter through his kisses made him press down on you harder.

Pulling away, his gaze narrowed and got serious again. “I love ya, more than just about anything else in this world.”

“Same, Dixon… same,” you kissed him again, and felt as though you really could do just about anything as long as he was standing right next to you.

  As night fell over Alexandria, the usual quiet calm blanketed the community as each one of the residents found their way home. Once the streets were empty, he waited until it was the changing of the guards at the prisoner’s cell to break the cover of darkness and head to the rear entrance to the cell.

Normally locked, he pulled the key from his jeans and carefully let it slide into handle. It made a much bigger noise than he anticipated, making him cringe and fortify himself to be caught. When he was sure no one heard the clank, he slipped into the rear entrance of the house containing the prison cell and waited until he knew the guards were changing shifts before making his presence known.

Removing his hat, he left it near the door and carefully removed the patch that covered his non-existent eye. He did that whenever he had snuck in here to see Negan. At first it had just been to prove that he wasn’t afraid of the man. But after that, Negan made it known that he wanted to always see Carl’s face, sans patch and hat.

Carl had no idea what the big man’s game was. He knew he was somehow responsible for the gate getting open and walkers getting in. He’d been coming to see Negan under the cover of night for years, and while they normally just talked, it was clear that he was up to something much more; and that was something Carl would not stand for.

What started out of mere curiosity, developed into some strange sort of friendship between the prisoner and the sheriff’s son. As the years progressed and Carl got older, walkers or no walkers, Carl and Rick began to butt heads over more than just the usual teenager stuff.

Carl wanted to be his own man, travel between the communities and start a life of his own. One night while staring Negan down, the man simply asked him what it was that he wanted. Since that moment, Carl had found a rather strange acquaintance in Negan.

Negan found something even better in Carl; he found the possibility of another ally.

Carl’s bootsteps fell softly on the concrete floor. There was no guard outside yet, which means the shift change was late, so he only had a few minutes. Rounding the corner, he could see Negan awake, only his white teeth shining in a larger than life smile from the corner shadows of the cell.

“Carl! Boy am I happy to see you. Bring me something good tonight?” Negan pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to the cell door. He rested his arms on the horizontal bar, letting his hands and wrists hanging over casually, while gently pressing his face against the vertical bars. “I am starving! Seems as though dear old dad doesn’t think I deserve a proper dinner. Even though, I’ve proven I am more than willing to feed his own kids.”

Carl reluctantly pulled an apple from his coat pocket and went to hand it to Negan. Before he could take it from the boy’s hands, Carl pulled it away, glaring his one eye at him.

“How did you do it?” Carl asked without relinquishing is gaze or the apple.

“Do what?” Negan feigned confusion.

“You know what.”

“Oh, that?” Negan mocking swung his torso around and pointed out the small window towards the front of the community. When he turned back to Carl, his face was contorted into a mocking frown, but his eyes were alive and playful.

“Carl! Buddy… I am hurt that you think it was me. I get your dad thinking it, but you? Come the fuck on kid, I thought we trusted each other?”

“I don’t trust you at all,” Carl puffed out his chest and stood taller.

“Really?” Negan purred making his way back to the cell door. “The why have you been coming to see me a few times a week for the past couple years? And what would Daddy Rick think if he knew?”

“Tell him, like I give a shit,” Carl could feel his anger growing. He had thought given his rather odd friendship with the prisoner, that maybe he would be able to get an answer, but he could see that Negan wasn’t going to give up anything.

“Well, maybe I will!” Negan licked his teeth and glared at the boy that wasn’t so much a boy anymore. He saw something flash across Carl’s face and for the first time since the cell gate closed behind him years before, he felt a spot of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. “Or,” he continued, eyeing the apple in Carl’s grip, “You can give me the apple, and maybe I’ll tell you a story. Wanna hear a story, kid? Cause I got a doozy.”

Negan flashed his wide, toothy grin to the sheriff’s son. Carl slowly held the apple forward until Negan’s grip was on it, his large hand covering the fruit, along with Carl’s hand. The two held the grip over the apple for more than a second before Carl finally relented, letting the prisoner have it.

“Atta boy…” Negan sunk his teeth into the tough red skin, letting the juice drip into his long beard. He didn’t care or didn’t notice, because he continued to eat the fruit as if it was his last meal on Earth. “Have a seat kid, and I’ll tell ya a tale.”

  The morning dawned over the community, but clouds kept the sun at bay. Daryl had pulled the RV around to the front of your house, while Maggie and Glenn were bringing their packs out to the walkway.

Shelby and Hershel were playing with the chalk again, while Abe was snuggled in your arms. His short, steady breathing told you he was nearly back to sleep again, and you relished in the weight of the boy in your arms.

Daryl came up the walk, pausing at the sight of you and his son snuggled together. He gently rubbed Abe’s head as he left a kiss on your cheek.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“Mmhmm,” you cooed, not wanting to disturb Abe.

Daryl leaned into your ear opposite Abe, so only you could hear him. “You know you look pretty fuckin’ sexy right now. Maybe Maggie could take the boy for a bit and we could…”

“Daryl,” you smacked him playfully in the chest with your free hand, “Really? Now?”

“Any fucking time, any fucking place,” he growled, his hand grabbing your ass heartily before walking back up to the porch to get the rest of the bags.

Once the RV was packed with bags and kids, you, Maggie and Glenn settled in for the trip to The Kingdom. From the passenger seat, you watched Daryl and Rick talking and even sparing a laugh or two. Rick smacked Daryl’s shoulder in a brotherly gesture as Daryl gave him a pronounced nod before getting in the RV. Watching them together left you with a warm feeling growing in your core. The fear you held onto at the thought of the trip was disappearing second by second as you realized that the people around you would go above and beyond to ensure the safety of your family.

There wouldn’t be another Robbie in your life, not ever. Your husband was strong and brave and would go to extreme lengths to keep you all safe. Your best friend and her husband were just as brave and capable, refusing to take shit from anyone. The others, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Carol, Sasha, Rosita… they could all be counted on to be there when things were scary.

Daryl sat down in the driver’s seat with a huff and turned the engine over. Putting the hulking vehicle into gear, it lurched forward causing a squeal of delight from the kids and Glenn to ask Daryl if he should do the driving.

Daryl silently flipped Glenn off in the rearview mirror, making both you and Maggie laugh. You took in a deep breath, exhaled and felt excited for the journey ahead. Once he got her going, the RV rolled on without a hitch as Daryl directed it out beyond the walls of Alexandria and onward towards the Kingdom.

----------

Tags: @kazosa @soythedemonqueen @onlydarylnormanfic @jodiereedus22 @his-paradox @zombeeemomeee @tiquismiquis @sorenmarie87 @redm81 @rhyatt-deauxtreve @kingdixonreedus @reedusteinrambles @aquivercactus @buckyscrystalqueen   

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #fanfic #fan fiction #negan fan fic

[justanoutlawfic]

Christmas Baby: A Lost Get Found Future Shot

For Day 5 of @charmingfamilychristmas. :)  So, one of my favorite Christmas tropes is somehow a baby being born/brought home/adopted around Christmas. I decided to tie in a request I got after I Knew I Loved You from Karen Hardy to show Henry meeting his new baby sister for the first time. This also totally isn’t a way for me to avoid writing the next chapter to this verse because it’s gonna hurt…not at all.

Also on AO3/FF

Mary sat by the tree, placing the last gift underneath. She was quite proud of herself for managing to get them all under there. As always, she and David went all out for their kids and grandson, but this Christmas was working a little different. For the first time since Emma moved out, she’d actually be spending Christmas morning in their house. She had asked her parents to put Henry’s presents under the tree from “Santa” for her and Bae. They hated that they wouldn’t be home for Christmas Eve, but they had a pretty good reason.

 The woman that was having their baby wasn’t originally due until mid-January. However, she had called Emma three days prior to inform her that she was in labor. She and Bae had to pack quickly, promising they’d be home Christmas Day. Henry had been disappointed they’d be missing all the usual pre-Christmas traditions, but was quite excited to meet his baby sister. Neal was able to keep his nephew distracted for the most part.

 Mary looked over at David, who was just finishing up the stockings. She walked over to him, plopping on the empty cushion beside him. “I almost forgot what it was like to play Santa.”

“I know, how long has it been since Neal actually believed?”

“I’m not sure. I think this may be the last year Henry does.”

David frowned. “Well, he grew up too fast.”

“Kids normally do.”

“Still, Christmas is always magical. Remember our first with Emma?”

Mary snuggled into his side. “Yeah, she was so excited. I thought I was going to cry so much during that day.”

“Now she’s married, with a family of her own.”

“We’re all a family.”

 It had taken awhile to get there, but they were. All the heartbreak and pain, both Emma and Bae being stubborn, it had all paid off. They were so incredibly happy. No marriage was perfect, but theirs was pretty damn close. It was all a parent could ask for, especially when it came to Emma. She had changed so much since the day she showed up on their doorstep and was still the same in many ways. That tough, determined girl who had walls up, hadn’t knocked them down. Rather, she had decided to let people inside of them.

 Their thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. David and Mary exchanged a look, very few people had a key to the house.

 “Who could that be?” Mary asked.

“Santa Claus?” David suggested with a shrug.

 Mary rolled her eyes and got up, cautiously heading into the foyer, David close behind. Her worry dropped and a smile fell across her face when she saw Emma standing there, holding a car seat.

 “Emma!” She rushed over to her, giving her a hug, which Emma returned with one arm. “What’s going on? I thought you two weren’t going to get back until tomorrow morning?”

“We decided we couldn’t miss being here when Henry woke up, so we drove back early.”

Baelfire walked through the door, holding their bags. “Hope you don’t mind us crashing here tonight.”

David grinned, helping him with everything. “Of course not.”

 The baby started fussing and Emma leaned down, picking her up and letting the car seat settle on the floor. She started rocking her, shushing her and cooing. David smiled, Emma was a tough sheriff, but if perps could see her with babies, they’d never take her seriously ever again. The baby settled down a bit and Emma stepped closer to her parents. They peered down into the bundle of pink blankets, where there was a tiny baby girl. She was smaller than Henry had been, her nose all scrunched up. She was wearing a white and red striped onesie, along with a Santa themed beanie.

 “Oh, Emma,” Mary breathed. ��She’s adorable.”

“We kinda like her,” Emma teased with a wink.

David kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “Congratulations, guys.”

“Can I hold her?” Mary asked.

“Of course.”

 Emma slowly placed the baby into her mother’s arms. Mary gazed down at the tiny one, smiling as tears gathered in her eyes.

 “Hey there sweet girl, I’m your grandma, you are just so beautiful.” She bounced her a bit. “Yes, you are.”

“Can we finally know her name?” David asked.

Bae looked over at Emma, smiling brightly. “You tell them.”

“Well…you know we were both adopted, it’s such a big part of our lives,” Emma said. “Now our adoption journey continued with her. We wanted to name her after two people that helped us even get to where we are…so…Mom…meet Margaret Belle Gold.”

Mary’s eyes whipped up to her daughter. “Are you serious?”

Emma nodded, grinning. “We’re going to call her Maggie.”

“Oh.” The tears trickled down Mary’s face and she placed Maggie into David’s arms, throwing her arms around Emma, hugging her tightly.

Emma giggled, hugging her tighter. “Merry Christmas, Mama.”

“I don’t…I can’t even…are you sure? I mean…” She pulled back a bit, cupping Emma’s cheek.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even have my family.” Emma shrugged. “I never thought I could be a good mom and I know I’m not perfect…but I know I learned from the best.”

The tears continued to flood down Mary’s face. “Oh, sweets.” She pulled Emma back into a big hug. Emma grinned, hugging her tighter and letting out a content sigh.

Henry woke up Christmas morning, feeling a little different than most years. He knew his parents would be back soon, but it wasn’t the same. Usually, he’d wake up and run into their room, waking them up. He didn’t even want to touch his presents from Santa until they were back, so he decided to try to go back to sleep. That was until there was suddenly someone jumping onto bed.

“Henry,” Neal sang out. “Time to wake up, Santa’s come.”

“Mommy and Daddy aren’t back yet,” Henry said. “I’m not opening presents until they get here.”

“Well, we can at least go look and try to guess, come on.”

Henry let out a dramatic sigh, which make his uncle laugh. “Alright, fine.”

 The two boys headed down the stairs and into the living room. Henry gasped when he saw the basinet he had seen his grandpa setting up the previous night in the middle of the living room. Walking closer, he saw a tiny baby laying inside. She looked up at him, staring with her big brown eyes.

 “Merry Christmas,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. Henry turned around and found his mom leaning lazily into the doorframe.

“Mommy!” Henry ran to her, hugging her tightly. She returned the hug, just as tight.

“Oh kid,” she mumbled into his hair as she brushed a kiss against his head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too!” He looked over and saw his dad, who was grinning down at him. “Daddy!” He practically jumped into his arms.

“Hey big guy,” Bae said, pulling him onto his hip. “You wanna hold your baby sister?”

“Can I, really?”

“Of course, come on, we’ll get you all settled.”

 Bae carried him to the couch and sat him down, while Emma lifted out Maggie and settled her into his arms. Henry stared down at her with big eyes, making sure to support her head like he had been taught.

 “She’s so tiny,” he breathed.

“You were about that tiny once,” Emma said.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“She’s so squirmy.” Henry laughed. “Like a worm.”

“I think she’s just trying to say hello.”

Henry kissed his baby sister, which Bae was managing to get with his camera. “Hey Maggie, I’m your big brother, Henry. I promise I’m gonna be the best big brother ever.”

 Tears prickled Emma’s eyes and she felt an arm wrap around her waist. She gazed up at her baby brother, it was so weird having him taller than her. She leaned into him.

 “I remember the day you came home,” she said.

“Did you try to sell me?” Neal teased.

Emma laughed, rolling her eyes at the same time. “No, I was so excited to meet you. I was the first person you smiled at.”

“I was probably trying to laugh at you.”

“Alright, you’re ruining the sappy moment, Nee.”

“I’m just kidding.” He smiled down at her. “I was really lucky to get you for a big sister.”

“Not as lucky as I was to get you for a baby brother.” She paused. “Do you ever think what life would’ve been like? If Helen had put you with another family? Do you think we would’ve met?”

“Of course, we always find people in this family. I was always meant to be a Nolan, just like you.” Neal kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Em.”

“I love you too, little bro.”

Neal cracked a wider smile. “Little bro, kinda ironic considering I’m taller than you.”

“I told you to stop growing up, it’s not my fault you didn’t listen!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re a shrimp!”

 Mary and David were watching from the doorway. Bae was busy recording Henry being adorable with Maggie, while Emma and Neal traded insults back and forth, all in good nature. Mary laughed, snapping a picture of the scene.

 This was her family. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

#the lost get found verse #snowing #snowing au #charming family #charming family au #mama snow #mama snow au #daddy charming #daddy charming au #swan believer #swan believer au #charming babies #charming babies au #swanfire #swanfire au #charmingfamilychristmas #12daysofcharmingchristmas

[tenshinokorin]

This is sorta from the kink_meme, but as it turns out Coleman makes portable/inflatable hot tubs. What if Noct has one stashed in the arminger that he completely forgot about until after one long and annoying dungeon crawl where they're all left dirty and half frozen.

Congrats, you just kicked off Chapter 30 of RDD. I’ll have it up on Ao3 this afternoon, but until then, here it is:

It was always the last damn fight, Noct thought, as he staggered up the cave incline towards the dull glow of light that promised an escape, at last. Always when they were tired and disheartened and cold, always when the prize had been claimed and the worst seemed to be behind them. He could swear the little daemon bastards waited until the last minute to spring something on them. An ambush. A sudden dead end. A booby-trapped corridor. It had been the last one, this time. A hail of boulders from the ceiling, and Noct had only survived because Gladio had been there, shield raised, to protect him. It hadn’t come without cost.

Noct glanced over his shoulder, and winced with guilt that was entirely his own, and pain that wasn’t. It was his fault. He should have seen this one coming.

“Don’t give me that face,” Gladio said, his own white with pain, his steps uneven as he tried to make it look like he wasn’t leaning on Ignis with his good arm. His other one, the skin blackened and mottled with bruising around the bicep, hung awkwardly at his side in a sling Ignis had rigged up from his suspenders and one of Prompto’s endless collection of bandannas. “This is still better than having a pancake for a Prince.”

“You sure you don’t want a potion, anything?” Prompto asked, not for the first time. Gladio only grunted a negative, but Ignis answered for him.

“No healing magic before I’ve had a chance to set the bone.” Ignis looked around, saw the light of the sky, and nodded. “Just a few more steps now, Gladio.”

“Heh.” Gladio’s face shone with cold sweat. “I’m fine. Still got one whole other arm.”

“Here,” Prompto said, sweeping dead leaves off a low slab of rock right by the cave entrance. They were within the fall of sunlight now, though it was fading fast as the sun slipped towards the horizon. “You can sit here. Ignis, do you need a hand?”

Ignis eased Gladio down with the care of placing a spun-sugar garnish atop a cake, and reached for the collar of his jacket to take it off. Gladio stopped him with a sudden gesture that, even with his sound arm, made him narrow his eyes in pain. He said nothing, only looked into Ignis’ face a long moment. Ignis, understanding, nodded once.

“Actually,” Ignis said, leaving Gladio’s shirt alone for the moment, “I think the best use of our resources will be if you two go on back to the campsite and get it set up for us. We’ll be along shortly.”

“But, whuh–” Prompto began, confused, but Noct plucked at the trailing hem of his plaid and headed for the cave mouth.

“Sounds good. C'mon, Prompto, let’s go.”

Together they crunched off through the previous autumn’s detritus towards the  gleam of haven runes in the distance, glowing brighter with every step as dusk descended.

“I don’t get Ignis sometimes,” Prompto said, walking backwards for a few steps as he looked behind them. “Once he gets that set, just a couple of potions and we’re back to Full Metal Gladio, right? What’s with splitting us up now?”

Noct shoved a branch out of the way, too tired to bother walking around the shrub. “You ever break a bone?”

“Fell down the house steps and broke a toe once,” Prompto said, with a little shrug. “When I was twelve. Still sticks out a little funny. But that’s all.”

“Nothing like an arm or a leg, though? Badly? As an adult?”

“Nope. Why d'you–”

A flock of birds roosting for the night around the cave entrance exploded upwards in a startled cloud, as a sharp cry rang out through the twilight. Gladio’s voice, stripped raw with pain, short and involuntary and awful. Ignis had set the bone.

“That’s why,” Noct said, with a weary sigh.

Prompto slowly lowered his hands from his mouth. His mud-smeared face was pale under the tangled constellation of his freckles. “Oh,” he said. “Gladio. He didn’t want us to see that.”

“Or hear it, either.” Noct pressed on towards the campsite. “C'mon. We’ll act like we didn’t. They should still be a little while. Gonna take more than one potion for that.”

The haven was a tall one, up a steep collection of rocks to the little plateau. Gladio would never have made it with his broken arm, and even Noct and Prompto, drained as they were, found it something of a challenge. They made it to the top and flopped down on the cold, damp rock, breathing hard, as night closed in around the forest.

“So,” Prompto wheezed, picking pine needles off his elbows, “You know how to pitch the tent?”

“I kinda hoped you did.”

Prompto put his face down. “Sure. In my pants. This, not so much.”

“God, we suck,” Noct said.

Prompto couldn’t help but agree. “Woulda been nice to have everything set up when they get here,” he sighed. “Put some water on for cup noodles and coffee? Have the tent ready? We could all just go to fucking bed.”

Noct frowned up at the patchy stars appearing through the tree branches above them. It would have been better if he’d been the one injured. Ignis would have dinner lined up and ready, Gladio would have a fire built and a cozy tent waiting for them. He thought, not for the first time, that his main use on the trip so far had been to get his friends hurt. The noise of agony Gladio had made still echoed in his memory. He wished he could do something to help, to offer some comfort. Instead he just rolled onto his feet. “C'mon. I can at least get everything out of the armiger.”

Prompto dragged chairs and equipment into place as Noct summoned it out of the air, his eyes closed and his face tense with concentration as he sorted through everything he carried for them. A heavy slab of folded material landed on the ground and Prompto reached out to open it up, thinking it was the tent.

“Hey, Noct.”

“Mmm?” Noct had just produced a camp stove and a cooler out of thin air, and was swaying a little with the effort.

“This isn’t the tent.”

Noct steadied himself on one of the chairs, and came to look over Prompto’s shoulder. “Huh. It sure felt like the tent. What the hell is that?”

“Inflatable mattress? A raft?” Prompto kept unfolding it until the object revealed itself. “A… A hot tub.”

“I forgot that was in there,” Noct admitted. “I stuffed it in at the last minute.”

He glared up at Noct, and there was an accusatory note in his voice. “You’ve had a hot tub in there all this time and you haven’t told us?” He began to fold it back up again, shaking his head. “I guess we can’t sleep under it, so put it back and–”

“Wait,” Noct said, and there was a sudden light in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s it, Darling,” Ignis said, still offering Gladio his shoulder, though it was not needed as badly as before. “We’re almost home for tonight.”

“I’m not dying, Iggy.” The color had come back to Gladio’s face, and his mended arm was only streaked with yellow, faded bruising after a liberal application of every potion in Ignis’ pockets. The bone would ache for a few good days, and his knees were still weak from the leftover adrenaline, but it was nothing compared to what it would be like without a king’s magic. “You don’t have to break out the sweet-talk.”

“I was talking to myself,” Ignis retorted, but looped his arm around Gladio’s waist all the same. He was exhausted. While his knowledge of first-aid and basic medicine was more than rudimentary, setting Gladio’s arm had taken all of his mental strength and most of his physical, as well. And that after a long, wet, cold slog through a dungeon. They’d reached the edge of the campsite, and he looked up at the far ledge in grim anticipation. “God. I’d sell myself to a brothel for a hot bath right now.”

“Not much chance of that,” Gladio said, heaving himself over the rocks, still favoring his injury. “I don’t think Noct’s got either a bathtub or a brothel in ‘em.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Prompto said, appearing at the edge to pull Gladio up to the top, although owing to their difference in size, Prompto wasn’t much help. Gladio had one knee on the top of the ledge when he stopped, stunned, by the scene in front of him.

“What the hell–”

“About time you got here,” Noct said, chest-deep in frothing water, his arms stretched out across the side of the fully functioning hot tub, which had been set up a safe distance from the campfire. (The extension cord ran off the edge of the campsite and down to the electricity deposit, and it was probably better Ignis didn’t get a good look at how it was rigged up.) “We’ve been up and running for like, twenty minutes now.”

“Oh, well done,” Ignis said, too surprised and delighted to even pretend at his usual nonchalance. “I’d completely forgotten you even had that thing!”

“Just the trick for a sore wing, right big guy?” Prompto said, pulling the kettle off the coals. “Got some water here for noodle, or tea, or whatever.“ 

Noct toasted them both with his tin camp mug, full of wine from Ignis’ ‘cooking’ stash (which usually meant the bottle he polished off personally while making dinner). “Personally, I recommend the ‘32 burgundy.”

“Noct,” Gladio said, greatly moved, and with an obvious effort to keep his voice even, “I hope you know that right now? I’d walk right back into that cave and break another arm for you.”

“I’d rather you just set up the tent, honestly.” Noct jerked his thumb at a heap of canvas and poles on the other side of the campfire. “Because trust me, it’s uh… not in my skill set.”

“But apparently setting up portable hot-tub parties in the middle of the wilderness is,” Ignis said, though he was already unbuttoning his shirt.

“We did try,” Prompto said, holding out his reddened palms for proof. “But funnily enough, neither one of us could hammer tent pegs into solid rock.”

“It’s a knack,” Gladio said, happily. “Pour me some of that wine, and I’ll show you how it’s done after dinner.”

“Noodles in three minutes, guys,” Prompto announced, balancing spoons on all the lids before peeling out of his mud-caked tank top.

Noct spread his arms out in invitation, for both accolades and for the other three to join him. “…Who’s your king, guys?”

~o~

#final fantasy xv #running down a dream #tnk fic #ask prompt

[floweringthewords]

Untitled Pt. 1 - Cup of Coffee.

#fic #john's p.o.v.