her body her eyes her everything

Tell Me You Love Me|T.Holland Imagine

Series:Tell Me You Love Me
Song(s): Tell Me You Love by Demi Lovato
Warning(s):None
Summary: Where Y/N finally realizes just how much Tom means to her and how she doesn’t now how she’ll deal if he ever were to leave her.

Last Part:Sorry Not Sorry

‘Oh no, here we go again, fighting over what I said.’

His jaw was locked as he looked back at her not believing the words that had escaped her lips. He was growing tired of the consent back and forth between them, he often wondered if this was the end of them. It was a never ending cycle it always happened when things were smooth and steady, when he was getting ready to just confess his feelings about how much she meant to him and asking her to officially be his. Instead of having her wrapped in his arms like he wanted he found her standing about ten feet away and yelling about things he couldn’t understand.

“I can’t keep doing this!” He finally shouted as she turned to look at his with wide and glassy eyes breaking him inside. His heart was beating at an unhealthy rate, as his breathing was heavy. The line of sweat that was forming on his forehead told her, she needed to hear him out if she wanted him to stay in her life.

“I’m sorry..” She breathed as he shook his hands and head.

“No No No.” He stated as he walked closer to her. “You have to hear me out here darlin’. This isn’t fair, why is it every time things are going in the right direction you pull yourself away. It’s almost like you don’t want a proper relationship with me..” He spoke as she heard the sadness drip from each word he spoke breaking her heart even more if possible.

“That’s not it Tommy..” She breathed as she fell into his arms. He held her tight as her tears fell freely from her face knowing she’d have to finally voice the thoughts that had been eaten her alive. The very same thoughts that kept her awake every night as she weighed the pros and cons of this relationship. She was hurting inside, something that she knew she had to tell him. She was hopelessly in love with him and it scared her to know that at any moment he can decided he doesn’t want her anymore.

“Then what is it?” He asked as he pulled away from her slightly to see her tear stained face. Her eyes were red as the stream of tears flowed down her cheeks faster then his heartbeat. At that moment he realized all the unspoken words she had been wanting to say. All the feelings that she had ben struggling with came to surface as he took one like in her eyes he knew what she felt, and he knew what she needed.  

I don’t know who I am without you Tom..” She breathed as his heart swelled at the words flowing out of her pink lips. She was overwhelmed by all the emotions running through her as he rubbed smooth circles onto her back watching her come undone before him. “It scares me how emotionally invested in this I am..” She confessed as he frowned.

“What?” He breathed out as she looked at him with a soft smile as she placed on of her hands on the palm of his cheek.

“It scares me at how fast I’ve fallen for you Thomas, its scary that in a matter of months you’ve managed to storm into my life tilting my world on its axis. It kills me to know that at many moment you can just decide I’m no what you want anymore..”

“Do you know how hard it is for me though?” He asked as she looked up at him shaking her head. “It aches to know that at any day you can come to the conclusion that you don’t want me, and if you ever where to come to that I don’t know what I’ll be living for if I’m living without you..

He watched as her eyes widened at his words, she nibbled on the inside of her cheek as he smiled softly at her pulling her flesh into his body as she looked up at him. Her eyes were tear free, and her face was a little bit red but she looked breathtaking. She was everything to him, and knowing that she had just as bad for him as he did for her was enough to ease her mind.

Everything I need is standing right in front of me.” He breathed as she smiled and pulled his face closer to her knowing in that moment that she had someone who cared about her just enough that maybe in time it’ll turn into love. She knew everything was going to be alright and that this kiss was a promise, that through the ups and downs he would stick around, that Tom would be there for her and that was more than she could every asked for.

“Tell me you love me…”

“I love you more then you can imagine darlin and I don’t ever plan on letting you go.”

somewhere, in a better gotham, the joker was born a woman, with eyes like candy apples, smooth skin. babysoft. 

in the gotham we know, the joker fell into a pit of toxic waste and turned green with envy. in this gotham, the better one, the joker is a tall, thin lady walking down the street. “smile, pretty” follows in her footsteps. when she stands at open mic laughter nights, she’s heckled from the crowd. they won’t smile for her but they resent her frown. 

her mother says that her best feature is her body. the joker spends hours staring in mirrors. picturing a trophy-wife kind of life. smile, pretty. smile pretty. smile. pretty. she’s sixteen the first time she tapes her lips up, just to see if she can teach her skin to learn the shape better. your teeth are your best feature. in the wild, smiling is a sign of fear.

she’s twenty and lives alone with her dog and tries to be okay with that. another night where she’s losing money on transportation, but she goes to the open mic anyway. the guy before her talks about airline food. she gets on the stage and immediately booed. and it’s years like this, in a pattern, in the weave of her passion, so that every night is thrown beer bottles and shouting and comments that make her sick to her stomach and being told she’s nothing special and being told women aren’t funny and being told her voice is shrill and ugly and being told when she’s too animated that she’s crazy and being told when she’s too stiff that she’s boring and being asked out by every single sleeze in the zip code and being shouted at when she says no and the neverending tumble of it because maybe tomorrow will be better, maybe tomorrow will be better, maybe tomorrow

he comes up on stage with her and soaks her shirt in beer. now that’s a show! the man calls. he gets cheers. she doesn’t cry, just walks out the back door before doing something stupid. the manager pats her on the head while she leaves. it’s okay, darling. he looks her over. i don’t get it. a body like yours? you should be an exotic dancer. comedy isn’t for everybody. you’re not funny, sweetie.

she’s not funny. not funny. not funny. the words turn alarm bells. the one thing she’s supposed to be talented at. the one thing she loves is just to make people laugh. and she’s not even funny.

hey you know what’s kind of funny? the way it feels at the bottom. how flat everything turns. how unreal. she skims like a rock. your body is your best feature. she tries again on monday. “you know what’s funny? i thought about murder the other day”. don’t we all, sweetie. on the bus, come home with me. on the street, why aren’t you smiling.

maybe some people are born close to the camel’s back, maybe some people have just always been looking for the straw. it’s too much in either direction. she goes home and smears makeup on her skin. tears her hair off. dyes it green, a shock, to match her eyes and spite and envy at men who can tell the same jokes and get laughter for it where she gets nothing and nothing and nothing, where she is pushed off of stages, where she is mocked.

well, isn’t it her turn to do the mocking.

in this story, in this better gotham where vigilante is sometimes good, sometimes a few letters from villain: who will stop her? in this life, when harley walks in, the two are different, best friends, sugar-on-pie because isn’t it true the world has it out for women. in this life, when harley shows up with hyenas, the joker thinks about the wild and the laws of it and says, “oh, of course, let them in”. in this life the violence has a name. 

and nobody says it without laughing.

Humans are odd

To jump into the whole humans are space oddities, imagine an aliens reaction to contacts.

Human Kayla had recently joined the ships crew, who all felt rather prepared. They got her a hamster and everything. And so, they go on for a good two weeks until Human Kayla says her contacts were irritating her.

So, of course, everyone is super freaked out because, “Human Kayla! What are these contacts you speak of? Are they part of your body?” and etc.

But then they watch her reach to her face and shove her finger onto her eye. And peel a bit of it off.

And now, of course, the aliens are terrified, because humans can casually peel the top part of their eye off if it hurt them, and it was once again time to update the intergalactic human manual.

10

JOURNEY TO FEARLESS.

BORN- November 7th, 2008
DIAGNOSED WITH CANCER- October 15, 2013
FIRST BIG BREAK IN FIGHT- January 2, 2014
TUMOR INACTIVE- May 1, 2014
GOT TO HUG THE HUMAN THAT HELPED HER THROUGH HER FIGHT- May 7, 2014
TUMORS RETURN- November 18, 2014
TUMORS INACTIVE- December 18, 2014
TUMORS RETURN- February 20, 2015
TUMORS GROW NEAR OPTIC NERVE WITH RISK OF SPREADING- August 20, 2015
SURGERY TO REMOVE EYE COMPROMISED FROM CANCER- September 3, 2015
CANCER FREE- SEPTEMBER 23, 2015
1 YEAR CANCER FREE- September 23, 2016
2 YEARS CANCER FREE- September 23, 2017

@taylorswift, I don’t know if you remember my niece, Khloe. You planned a visit to CHLA in 2014 specifically to meet her after seeing her story and hashtag all over Instagram. You spent about 40 minutes with her talking, laughing, and making her feel loved and important. It was one of the best days. I don’t know if you’ll ever fully comprehend the impact of that day on her and our family during that time. You brought such a breath of fresh air to all of us when we felt like we were drowning. And it’s a day we held onto throughout the rest of her fight. In 2015, she was battling cancer again and it was very serious. The tumors started to impact her eyesight and it got to the point where she could only see shadows in her right eye. They were growing near her optic nerve and there was the big risk that it could spread to the rest of her body if she didn’t have surgery to remove her eye. We actually found out the day before your 1st LA show of the 1989 tour. Since finding out the news, it was all a blur but that night at the show, we forgot everything that was happening outside of those walls. Khlo wasn’t a child with cancer, she was just a child having the time of her life watching her favorite perform all the songs that brought her happiness in her hard times. You did that. I actually blew my savings to surprise her with floor seats to the last of the LA shows. At one point in the show I lifted her up above the crowd and she wholeheartedly believes you smiled at her and she kept asking me if I thought you remembered her. I always replied the same, ‘There is no way anyone could ever forget you.’ I post this all because I remember watching an interview years back when you said one of the hardest parts of your job is meeting children battling cancer and then returning to the hospital years later and them not being there. So I just want you to know, Khlo did battle cancer twice more, and it did steal her sight from her right eye, but it didn’t steal her from us. Her FEARLESS heart still beats strong. She still absolutely LOVES you and still has her dance parties to your music. The difference is that now it’s no longer in hospital rooms but in her own. Thank you for being a constant source of happiness for her. I always loved you on my own but the fact that I get to love you through her, is what makes me thankful for you everyday.

7

PART II

PART I. Bechloe AU in which Chloe went undercover to get Beca Mitchell under arrest, and failed miserably after falling for her. But when it was time to fulfill her mission, everything went wrong.

Those six months Chloe was undercover were also spent in Beca Mitchell’s bed. Quite efficiently if you ask her, but Chloe never forgot about her mission, not even for a second. Not when Beca was gentle and sweet, with her soft smile and stormy blue eyes. Not when for the first time their night was full of love and tenderness, instead of animal lust and craving for each other’s body. Not even when Chloe let the damn four-letter word slip into the conversation. Chloe knew from the moment she laid her eyes upon Beca Mitchell, she was doomed to fail.

Barn Mates - One Year On

Barn Mates was first aired exactly a year ago today… and what a monumental episode it was for both Lapis and Peridot!

For those of us who were already shipping Lapidot, it was a dream come true – and for some of those who weren’t, it opened their eyes to a whole new (and now completely canonically viable) ship.

I’ve written about this episode a few times in the past, but it feels fitting to look back on it again today; for day one of Lapidot Anniversary Week!

So, without further ado…

The episode opens with Peridot wistfully speaking into her tape recorder about sharing her new home with Lapis.  Only a couple of episodes prior to this point, Peridot had made the decision to stay at the barn by herself whilst the other Crystal Gems returned to the temple. The fact that she now so enthusiastically wants to share her home with Lapis (as opposed to going back with the other Gems or staying by herself in the barn) just shows that she already has some level of admiration for Lapis.

Peridot says:

“Why don’t we watch the sun come up and figure out what we’re going to do with all this time, eh Lazuli?”

Watching the sun rise with someone is an old romantic tradition/cliché, so the fact that Peridot specifically mentions wanting to do this with Lapis certainly speaks some volumes.   And it also transpires…

…that this line was foreshadowing a scene that came later in the show – in Room For Ruby, not only are they watching the sun rise together (just as Peridot wanted to do), they’ve actually been sat together all night stargazing prior to this point, which is another activity that has obvious romantic connotations.

After Peridot has finished speaking into the tape recorder in Barn Mates, Lapis expresses her desire to live in the barn all on her own. Steven suggests that the barn be split down the middle, with each of the two Gems having their own “side”, which leads to a very interesting shot of the pair of them:

Notice how they’re effectively framing a picture that’s behind them.   This picture is of the barn’s previous owners – Greg’s aunt and uncle, who Greg described back in Space Race as follows:

“My aunt and uncle had a great love for aviation, and each other.  They cherished the years they spent together, and they held on to every belonging they ever owned.”

It’s interesting, then, that a picture of a happy couple has been placed directly in-between Lapis and Peridot in this shot.  This becomes something of a trend as the show progresses, with the picture being placed in-shot with Peridot and Lapis on occasion in a fair few other episodes, such as these:

This could well be foreshadowing a romantic relationship between Lapis and Peridot.  The fact that Greg mentions “aviation” is also something interesting to think about, considering that Lapis can fly and Peridot was the pilot of the Hand Ship back in Jailbreak.

Lapis isn’t keen on the idea of splitting the barn, telling Steven that Peridot is the problem:

“I can’t stand the thought of looking at her everyday!”

This statement is now somewhat ironic because, in the episodes since Barn Mates, Lapis almost always has her eyes on Peridot – and gives her some extremely suggestive looks, too!

Peridot and Steven both try to assure Lapis that Peridot has changed, but she doesn’t want to hear it. Steven thinks it’s “sweet” that Peridot wants Lapis to see how much she’s changed since their last encounter, and he helps her to make an apology card which has a very interesting picture drawn on the front of it:

Steven may well have the intent of getting Peridot and Lapis to be friends, but he’s drawn them looking like an actual couple here; they’re even holding hands.

Eventually, after some persuasion from Steven, Lapis joins them – and a beaming Peridot hands over the card.  This still fails to win-over an unimpressed Lapis, much to Peridot’s disdain.

“It took me over an hour to compose [the message in the card], and I was the most sincere as per Steven’s instructions!”

The fact that Peridot put so much time into her apology message gives us an indication of how highly Peridot thinks of Lapis – and how much she wants to make her feel better. She then spends some time deliberating what she could give to Lapis as a gift (upon Steven’s suggestion), and they come up with an idea…

“H-2-Oh my GOSH!” … “It’s a gift for you!  You know, ‘cause water’s your thing.”

Peridot’s mannerisms and tone of voice here are very flirtatious.  However, given Lapis’ previous traumatic experience of being trapped on the bottom of the ocean, this is another idea that falls completely flat.

And what does Peridot do?

“A pool?!  What a cloddy idea!  Of course she wouldn’t like that!”

She actually blames herself for the mistake.  This is very uncharacteristic of Peridot, who normally has a very lofty opinion of herself and her intellectual capacity – which, again, shows how highly she must think of Lapis.  She even uses the word “cloddy” to describe her own idea; with “clod” being an insult that she usually only ever levels at other people when she’s at her most angry.

She then decides to make a very grand gesture…

…and offers her most prized possession – the tape recorder – to Lapis as a gift.

She’s very flirtatious in doing so here, as well.  With a wink and a smile, she tells Lapis:

“See, the ribbon is even blue.  I got yo’ number!”

Peridot has offended all of the other Gems at some point in the past, but she’s never been seen to perform as grand a gesture as this one in order to win them over. 

Peridot is, in a lot of ways, incredibly materialistic - she has been shown on more than one occasion to hold her very few possessions really closely to her.  By Peridot’s standards, handing the tape recorder over is essentially the biggest thing she could do for someone, which is a very clear indication of her feelings towards Lapis.

This gesture is completely lost on Lapis, however, who proceeds to crush the tape recorder in her hand.

Usually in these situations, Peridot would be distraught that one of her possessions had been destroyed (see, for example, Peridot on her knees begging Amethyst not to throw away her beloved tablet in Too Short To Ride).  However, this time, she actually seems to be upset by the fact that she’s managed to upset Lapis once again, exclaiming:

“What, were you trapped in a tape recorder too?!”

Peridot is exasperated by this point, and gives a very heartfelt speech which, I believe, really gets to the root of one of the key reasons why a relationship between Lapis and Peridot just makes perfect sense:

“Look, I get it, you know?  You’re confused!  You can never go back to Homeworld.  This place doesn’t exactly feel like home yet.  You’re alone, no one could possibly know what that feels like!  Oh wait, I do!  We’re the same, except…  you don’t have to be alone.”

She and Lapis are going through the exact same thing at basically the same time; namely, being stranded on earth with no way of returning to Homeworld.  There’s literally no-one else who they could bond with over this, except for each other – it’s a common ground that they share with each other and only each other.  It’s logical and sensible storytelling, therefore, to have these two characters stick together and share the experience with each other.  It puts them on equal ground, gives them both an acute understanding of each other, and enables them to both support one another as they adjust to life on earth.

At this point in Barn Mates, however, Lapis still isn’t having any of it.  Peridot, clearly at her wits end, asks what Lapis wants from her.  Lapis angrily tells Peridot that she wants her to leave… and that’s exactly what Peridot does.  She wants Lapis to be happy so much that she’s even willing to give up her home so that Lapis can live there instead.

As she walks away, Steven reprimands Lapis for treating Peridot so badly.  As he’s talking, Lapis folds her arms and shifts on the spot, her gaze meeting the crushed tape recorder on the floor.  Everything about her body language in this scene exudes guilt.  

Peridot comes screaming back towards them moments later, however – being pursued by a Roaming Eye that she’s convinced is after her.    

The trio flee from the ship, but eventually come face-to-face with it, which causes Peridot to cower behind Steven in fear.

However…

…Lapis steps forward, and glances back at a wide-eyed Peridot.

This scene is very important because it’s the first time we ever get to see that Lapis does actually care about Peridot, despite the pair of them getting off to a very turbulent start.  She steps up to defend the helpless Peridot from the Roaming Eye, and makes sure to specifically ask Peridot if she’s ok after the threat has been neutralised – proving that she didn’t only have Steven’s interests at heart when she took out the Roaming Eye.

What happens next needs no introduction…

Originally posted by geekylaugifs

Peridot has still, to this day, never looked at anyone else with such love.  The way that her hands are clasped to her chest makes it the typical “cartoon character looking at their love interest” pose.  That smile on her face is literally the biggest one that she’s ever given.  And Lapis’ deep blush, that she actually turns her head away from Peridot in an attempt to hide, is also a reaction from her that’s unique to this scene – and very much implies that the apparent feeling of attraction is mutual.  There appears to be some symbolism behind the sun coming out as Peridot smiles, too.  This could well be an indication that Lapis is warming up to Peridot and seeing her in a new light.  It also has a somewhat poetic quality to it, with the storm clouds (both literal and metaphorical) dissipating at this very moment.  

Originally posted by giffing-amethyst

Steven picks up on what’s going on, giggling to himself as he looks at Lapis.  It’s also very interesting that Peridot’s loving look is still lingering even after the camera angle has changed – this is no fleeting “micro expression”, it’s a very prolonged and deliberate look…

…which was the first of very, very many that the pair of them have since gone on to give each other (the above images being a small handful of examples).

All in all, Barn Mates was the start of a very beautiful relationship between these two Gems, which has well and truly endured throughout the past twelve months – and has gotten ever stronger with each episode that they’ve appeared in together.

$15 COMMISSIONS - my cat needs surgery

So heres the story. My cat, Halloween, ate a 10 inch piece of ribbon Friday night. We took her immediately to the emergency vet and they tried to get her to throw it up, but she wouldnt. The doctor said to bring her home and if she isnt eating, if shes lethargic, or vomiting, then bring her back in immediately because that could mean that her intestines are bunching up because the ribbon got caught in the track. All yesterday, Saturday, she was eating, jumping, playing around. I kept a close eye on her, thinking everything was so far okay and her body will just pass it. Last night, however, she wouldnt eat. She laid between my legs all night, not moving and by morning, normally she would be meowing up a storm and demanding food. This morning she didnt. I know my cat, that isnt normal. So I called the doctor and they said to bring her in for an xray. I just got back from the vet. It turns out, the string got stuck and her intestines are bunching up. Normally they should be all squiggly on the xray, but instead on the left side, they are lined in a perfect row of three. This means that she has to go into surgery. If she doesnt, itll just get worse. I asked if she is in pain and the doctor said yes. The surgery is nearly $4000. $4000 dollars that I dont have. So the doctor has her now, shes going into surgery this afternoon.

I’m not the type of person to ask for money. So I’m not. But I’m opening up $15 commissions that will each take me about 1-2 hours. 

Theyll just be headshots, no elaborate clothing. Must have reference picture thats well lit. Any jewelry or crowns or anything is $5 extra. 

I just really need help, so if anyone would like a commission, message me please. **paypal only

From The Dining Table

13 Hours Later.

When she woke up, she was still alone.

Initially, she’d forgotten all about the night before. The first thing she noticed was the strange buzzing sound of the thermostat in the corner, which was obviously not working at all because the room was freezing. The chilly air nipped at her cheeks, and she snuggled further into the mattress as she tucked her head into the comforter with a soft whimper, trying to ignore the buzzing in her head.

Her eyes were still stinging from her tears the night before mixed with the lack of sleep. She’d managed to finally drift off at around four in the morning, but she couldn’t tell by the window whether it was eight in the morning or two in the afternoon.

Their screams from the night before still echoed in the walls.

She slid the covers off of her head and opened her eyes slowly, staring at the pale yellow motel ceiling. It was the color of Easter yellow, she’d decided, and it reminded her of chocolate and gardens and everything happy. It reminded her of some distant life where she probably would have done something to be proud of.

The ache in her chest resonated throughout her entire body, and her head was pounding to the rhythm of her heart—it was the only way she could be sure it was still beating.

She felt like someone had torn it out of her chest.

She turned onto her side and looked at the space in the bed beside her, clutching onto the soft material of the comforter until her knuckles turned white. Waking up on her own wasn’t new to her—she’d done it time and time again in the past two years, so much that she’d become numb to the loneliness that came with it. But this time was different…

This time, she knew he wasn’t coming back.

She suddenly felt a tear roll down her face, and just like that, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

He was everywhere.

Keep reading

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

anonymous asked:

Maybe Dark!Annabeth fighting a child of the big three and she knows that defeating them with physical, raw power isn't possible, so she attacks mentally. She defeats them with words, something Annabeth constantly does throughout the books to her enemies. Making them so angry, distracted, and/or sad that they lose focus and she easily takes the victory.

Annabeth feels him coming before she sees him.

There’s a charge in the air. A gathering static that threatens to strike with every movement she makes, but never quite gets the guts to do so.

That’s Jason Grace for you. Son of Jupiter, chosen of Juno, and just a touch too soft to do what needs to be done. Oh sure, he’ll kill monsters if he needs to, but when the monsters are gods, his solution is to become a priest.

It’s about finding a compromise, he’d said. And making sure that we’re heard.

Annabeth’s finding there are better ways of making noise.

“You got here faster than I expected,” she remarks as he touches down in front of her. She’s perched on the crumbling remnants of a wall that’s thousands of years old. Some small, distant part of her regrets what is about to happen here, but not enough to change course.

“Your pattern’s getting old,” he says. His gladius is out and he holds it warily between them. Annabeth keeps her drakonbone sword at her side. “The others can hold Percy off long enough for me to stop what you’re doing.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re the only one coming?”

He tries to hide his grimace, but that’s the danger with fighting your friends. They can read you too well, and a smile curls over Annabeth’s mouth at the confirmation. She hops off the wall, landing lightly on the dirt.

“What made you think I’d be at Pompeii?”

Lightning crackles in the sky overhead, raising the small hairs at the back of her neck. He nods at the scaffolding in the distance, empty of workers this early in the morning. It’s a grim dawn, about to get darker.

“No tourists today. You might’ve turned against the gods, Annabeth, but you’re not a murderer.”

Isn’t she? Annabeth has lost count of the number of monsters she’s put in the ground (under the ground). How many demigods died in the war with Kronos? They bleed red the same as mortals, and her hands are as stained as anyone’s.

So are Jason’s, and irritation pricks at her face. She smooths it away with a cool smile, carefully tracking him as he starts to circle her. She has a certain amount of faith in Jason’s willingness to ‘save’ his friends, but she’s not an idiot.

“So I should start picking locations with people if I don’t want you to interfere, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s obviously not what I’m saying.” His gaze flickers over the ruins stretching behind her. “So this is all rigged to blow, huh?”

“Leo does good work.”

He winces. He can play on whatever friendship the two of them might have had all he likes, but that betrayal is the real knife in the guts and they both know it. Annabeth coerces her expression into concern, the cogs of her brain turning the right muscles to give it the realism it needs. She takes a half step forward, and Jason doesn’t step away.

“He misses you, you know.” Her voice is a soft thing. Caring. “Misses both of you.”

“If he misses us so bad, he should come and see us.”

“You really think we’re going to be welcome at Camp after all this?

“You haven’t killed anyone.”

The yet sits between us, and it doesn’t matter anyway. The gods would be more likely to forgive her if she had killed someone. They could have murdered thousands of mortals and not been struck down, if they’d just done it far away from the last vestiges of godly power in this world.

Gaea had plotted to bring down Mt Olympus, and that’s definitely on Annabeth’s list. But she’s always been a methodical sort of girl, and divine power runs deep. Best to stamp out all traces of it, one relic at a time.

She sighs. “We don’t plan to. You know that.”

“You’re trying to kill the gods!” Lightning cracks again, closer now. It takes more strength than Annabeth wants to admit to to avoid reaching for her weapon.

“And how many times have they tried to kill us? At best they don’t give a shit, Jason, you know that.”

But he’s shaking his head. They’ve had this fight before, all of them, enough times that she could probably just record it for him to save energy. He’s long since stopped listening to sense, and she doesn’t bother with more than a cursory attempt to convince him.

“You’re too late for this one,” she says. “I’m proud of you for getting here before it blows, but you were right. It’s ready to go.”

His grip shifts on his sword. And - there’s something in his expression that prompts her to brace for an attack, because it’s not defeat. This time, she thinks. This time might be the one where I push too far.

It’s sad, sort of, but relief swamps that soon enough. It’s not that she wants to fight old friends, but it would make everything a lot simpler. To just be able to fight, without caring what happens to them anymore. To draw battlelines instead of blurring them

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls. “But even if the rest of your team is ready to destroy this place, they’ll stop once you’re a hostage.”

Annabeth laughs. It’s a miscalculation, but she can’t help herself. “The others might. But hell itself couldn’t keep Percy Jackson from me, Jason, and you’re no Tartarus.”

“I can deal with Percy.”

He can’t. She wonders idly if he knows that. Everyone’s aware of Percy’s power these days, but that’s what he’s like with her at his side. Jason, she suspects, still has a little too much optimism left about what Percy’s self control would be like without her. What it would be like if he even thought she was in danger.

“Right, well, that’ll be your mistake to live with.” She squints up at the sky, trying to judge her next play. Being a hostage would accelerate certain things that she’s not ready to set into motion just yet. Most of all, she doesn’t think that Percy is quite as ready to fight the others as she is.

Not yet.

“You made a miscalculation,” she said finally. “You always want to go for the biggest player, Jason. It’s one of your biggest weaknesses.”

“You can’t talk your way out of this, Annabeth.” His body moves, and she can almost trace the lines in the air, the familiar forms he’s about to slide into. “You’re coming back to Camp wth me.”

He lifts his blade, wreathed in lightning. She smells ozone on the air, the threat of violence wafting in behind it. She clasps her hands behind her back, and lays down her hand.

“Where’s Piper, Jason?”

Everything stops. Nature itself holds its breath as those too-blue eyes widen in sheer panic, before narrowing at her.

“Piper’s your friend. You wouldn’t hurt her.”

Annabeth waits. She doesn’t need to say anything. The silence between them does it for her. The even sound of her breathing. The shroud of absolute confidence holding her shoulders straight.

You are not going to take me, her body says, like it’s all a foregone conclusion.

“She can handle herself,” he tries again, and there’s the edge of desperation that she’s been waiting for. Enough to cloud his thinking. He might not think she’s a murderer, but there are other atrocities. Things she hasn’t held back from in the opening numbers of this new war.

“Against Percy?”

That’s a risk. Because they both know that Percy isn’t steady, isn’t stable, that his relationship with Piper had been tenuous at best and that without Annabeth there, his temper might just get away with him. Piper has her Charmspeak, but there are ways around everything if you have enough power.

It’s a risk, because Jason’s anger could always outweigh his fear. He could always take it out on her rather than fly off for Piper. Annabeth is confident in her ability to take him with a sword, but Jason comes with all those bonus add-ons that children of Athena just aren’t privy to.

So she gives him one last push. Just to make sure.

“Tartarus has so many doors,” she says softly. That same quiet concern from before, turned deadly now. “You know we found all of them, right Jason?”

He spits a curse, something in Latin about the gods and what he hopes they’ll do to her. She watches him leap into the sky, shading her eyes against the rising sun until he’s no more than a dot in the distance.

“You say that like they haven’t already done their worst,” she murmurs, before turning back to the ruins.

There’s work to be done.

Stress and A Bath - Harry Styles Imagine

Originally posted by ohstylesno


Words: 1,955

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Warnings: Some smut at the end, but nothing too extreme.

Requested: Yes

Requests are OPEN


She heard it, before she saw it. She was cooking in the kitchen, Harry coming in through the door. Instead of the typical start of of conversation, about something that happened in the studio, or a quick, ‘hello, darling.’, there was nothing. She heard him drop his things, like usual, but it was not just a steady drop, it was a thump, and a kick adding towards it. She heard it, before she saw it.

Several seconds, she saw his image come in, bags under his eyes, he was constantly brushing his hair back with his fingers, and squinting his eyes. She took note right away, her husband was stressed. (Y/N) turned the gas stove off, putting a lid upon the stew she made for that rainy day, wiping her hands on her pants, and instantly moving towards her husband.

She leaned against the counter next to him, while he placed his hands on it, leaning towards the black counter, just taking a breather. His wife thought of something to say, not to cause anger, or the cold-shoulder.

“What happened?” She instantly said, starting to rub his back, gently, he moved his shoulder, lightly, in order to brush her off, she moved her hand away, then.

“Nothing.” He grumbled towards her, starting to walk to the staircase. She rolled her eyes at his behaviour, taking off her apron, and placing it on that counter, following him.

“Harry, talk to me.” She said, sternly, eyeing his back, while he started to climb the birch stairs.

“I told you it’s nothing, (Y/N)” That came out harsh, she took a breather, and kept following him, faster now. She turned to the left, knowing he was heading to the bedroom.

Only inches away from him, he brushed the door close, on her face. That was it, she was now angry as well. Opening it to him, taking his clothes off, slowly.

“Harry, I don’t know what happened, but please talk to me.” She said, walking up to him, his back facing her.

She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, watching his skin twitch, him releasing a breath that he never knew he held. (Y/N) moved her hands down his bare back, gently rubbing, and massaging it. Placing her thumb into the skin, kneading it. Arms slid across his stomach over time, placing her body against his back, breathing him in.

“Just a bit stressed, love.” He simply said, she kissed his back a few times, he loosened his shoulders that he held tense.

“How about a bath, I run one for you, with some of those candles we got from our wedding, a few months back. I can come in, if you want or, just let you be.” She said, turning him, pushing his long hair back. His frown turned into a smile, not a full one, but a one that it takes awhile to find. It was hidden.

He looked down at his feet, her hands were still around his waist, he took his hands and placed them on her cheek, slightly moving one thumb.

“That’ll be nice.” He said, she smiled, walking past her half naked husband.

The missus leant down by the sink, opening the cabinets of their bathroom, and taking the candles out. The lavender ones were her favourite, taking it and placing it on the windowsill, the bath in front of it. She placed them there, opening the blinds to view the London street, the streetlamps were on, the rain coming down the window, and the night sky was a faded, but humble blue, from their townhouse window.

She lit them with the lighter, she had stored, and turned the bath on, keeping it to a warm level. The water began to come out, she tested it with her finger, and nodded, plugging the bath. She walked back to the room seeing Harry sitting on their bed, only in his boxers, and just stared at the window to his right, watching the water hit the window.

“Come on now, darling.” She said, walking up to him, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom.

They stood facing each other, she pulled off her top, leaving her in her bra. The noise of the tap behind them as it poured out the water into the white basin. He looked at her, trying his best to keep eye contact with the eyes that he fell in love with. He watched as she pulled her leggings down, leaving both of them in their undergarments. (Y/N) picked up his hands and placed them behind her, letting him unhook her bra, he did it, watching her breasts come out of the cups. He smiled to himself, the stress slowly, but surely, beginning to go. She knew what she did to him. Her fingertips came in contact with his waistband of his boxers, she placed them down, behind them, her wedding ring grazing his soft skin on his hip. Eventually she pulled them down, and she did the same with hers.

She placed her glasses on the counter, taking her hair up into a bun, and getting into the tub, that was now full. Her back came in contact with the tub, as she put her hand up for her husband to grab on, he sat back to her. She placed her husband’s hair into a bun, loving that he grew it out, and gently massaging his back, kissing his shoulder blades. Harry began leaning back, placing his head on her shoulder, the water coming to his midline. He could feel her breasts against his back, the soft tissue, as she moved her hands to his stomach, gently playing with his tattoos, tracing them with her fingertips, letting him just relax.

“Tell me, tell me what happened.” She simply stated, rubbing his stomach lightly, giving him a small tickle.

“Just the boys, you know them. They love to fool around, talk. It just adds up, and I tell them that I have a wife now, that I can’t stay at the studio till the A.M., I’m expected home by six. But, they just ignore me, and talk about girls and all. I just want to get the work done, we are behind for the next album, because we use the studio time to do this.” He said, releasing his thoughts to her, she simply nodded, kissing his forehead, as he closed his eyes, letting her touch him.

“That’s not fair on you, hun.” She said, taking her arms and placing them, draping them, over his shoulders. He nodded, humming.

“I just want to get the album done, so I can spend more time with you. You’re not just my girlfriend anymore, you’re my wife, you expect more, and I want to give you that.” He said, still laying like that. She just nodded, listening to him speak.

They stayed like that for awhile, her listening to him ramble on about whatever was on his mind, she just listened. The silence arose an hour in, she kissed his temple, him slowly getting up, turning his body to face her.

“Hi.” He said, smiling, she could not help but smile, “Hi.” She said back, looking at his eyes.

He came closer towards her, bringing her in for a kiss, letting him move his mouth around hers, feeling the love coming from her, as he did to her. He pulled away, “I’m going to get out, come with me.” He told her, starting to stand up from the bath, helping her out, drying themselves.

He began doing his nightly routine, as well as her, both naked. She went down to the sink, placing back the candles, and took out the oils she had from their honeymoon, standing up. She walked back into the master seeing Harry standing there, looking at the mirror.

“Babe, come here.” She said, beginning to walk to him. He instantly turned around, seeing she had the oils, a smile came upon his features.

“I love those oils, they bring some memories back.” He said, giving her a smirk, as she pointed to the bed. He sat, naked, while her naked figure sat behind them, her back almost hitting the headboard of the bed. She took the jojoba oil and placed it on his back, gently placing her weight on her knees as she leant into him, placing a kiss behind his ear. He groaned a bit. (Y/N) massaged her strength in his back, taking away some of the knots that lied there. Kissing him every so often, it was when she turned to the bedside table to grab the shea butter, where she was pulled away from it, her back hitting the mattress.

He towered over her, kissing her neck gently, at first, and then began sucking her neck, moving to her jawline. She moaned his name, her hands coming behind him, hitting his lower back, as he placed a hand on her breast, and the other went to her hip, balancing himself out. He eventually placed his lips on hers, making himself the dominate one. She allowed, after all, she caused it, and he had a hard day.

He took over her mouth, fighting for dominance when she opened her mouth, but like always he won, exploring her mouth as his erection grew.

“No teasing, I just want love.” She said to him, as he reached over her to his side of the bed, towards his side table to grab a condom from inside the drawer, ripping it with his mouth as he straddle her, she just watched, trying not to stare at his boner. He slid it on, and went back kissing her.

“Ready, love.” He said, taking his lips off of hers once again, looking in her eyes. She nodded, relaxing her body, allowing him to take over. She felt him slid in, after the six years they have been together, and the few months of marriage, she is still not use to him. Taking a breather from his size, and nodding when to go.

They moved in sync, it was not a fuck, this was pure love making, the pace was slow, but fast, trying to feel everything of the other. She placed her hands on his bare butt, squeezing it once in awhile. He placed his hands above her, their eyes were both close, but sometimes open, kisses were shared, but they just felt it all. But of them groaning and moaning, saying each other’s name, every so often.

He picked up the speed, her noticing the same feeling in her stomach, as she tightened her grip.

“I’m about to come, H.” She said, almost whispering, but it was pure of sweetness, he nodded, her picking up upon the sweat on his forehead.

“Me too.” He grunted, putting his hands on her hips, as she placed one on his hip, and they other on his cheek, gently moaning his name.

Both of them came to their highs, him falling on top of her, placing his head on her breasts, as she rubbed the back of his neck, he was still inside her, but she just loved the feeling of him being so close.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, kissing the side of her breast. She nodded, kissing his head multiple times.

He pulled out taking the condom off of his dick, and throwing it in the trashcan next to the bed, pulling himself into her.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” He told her, bringing himself closer to her.

“I love you too, gorgeous.” She simply said, turning the lamp off next to her, and falling asleep, holding Harry.


Thank you for requesting @anonymous!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Lots of love,

-Ava. Xx

dissonance [3]

summary: And the bough finally breaks. || hades!bucky x persephone!reader || mythology au

warning: assault (?), idk he just kind of snaps, mentions of blood

note: I have a class at nine in the morning and it’s already past midnight but I wanted to grace y’all fuckers with this. So here. Enjoy, I hope. Feedback is always appreciated.

part two

Keep reading

Stargazing II pt. 1

Jimin x reader

genre: angst!, fluff, smut, boyfriend!jimin

word count: 15.5k


He was your first love, your soulmate who shaped your heart, covered it with scars no one was able to erase..except for the one causing the indentations deforming the once beautiful muscle that still longed for the part that was torn out on a day in late autumn.

Keep reading

One Missed Call (Angst)

A/N: Prepare yourself. It’s quite a ride. This is my first time doing angst so feedback is definitely appreciated. Enjoy! 

After what feels like forever, the plane finally touches down in his home city of Toronto. Shawn lets out a deep, strangled sigh, rubbing his eyes. He’s exhausted from the extended time that he’s been away from home, but he honestly wishes he was still on the road for just a little while longer. He knows he should be excited; he should be happy even. Today is the day he will finally see her after months of being apart, but when she comes to mind, his stomach turns and he’s disgusted with himself. All he can think about is what he did. He shakes away the thought in his head and pulls his carry-on over his shoulder as he makes his way to his designated baggage carousel to collect his belongings. It takes him 15 minutes to find all his bags before he continues down the long hall towards the revolving exit doors. Geoff is outside the airport for him. His plane was early, but he didn’t want to bother her to take off work and have to come get him. He isn’t ready to see her just yet anyways. He just needs a little more time to think. He walks out the doors and props up his suitcase. While waiting for his friend to show, his eyes wonder upward, gazing at the black sky, contemplating what the hell he should do when he gets home. He can’t hide it forever; his guilt will eat him alive.

Keep reading

By Heart [ III ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 7.3k

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Summary: Getting over him was the most impossible thing in the world because part of you couldn’t believe it was really over.

By Heart Masterlist

Originally posted by yourbiaslikesitrough

Having your heart broken once was something that could change your whole world. It made everything feel like it had been shifted. Like there were bits of sadness tucked into every corner of things you used to enjoy. Like the sky was never blue, but a dull grey that reflected the way you felt when the demons came out. Like ghosts were suddenly so very real, and haunting you every day in the form of lingering memories that made your chest ache. Like everything was a creation just there to mock you and remind you that somehow, someway, you weren’t worth it. You had messed up. It felt like the world changed, when in reality, it hadn’t.

You had.

Keep reading

Wonder Woman and Sex Appeal

So WW is *supposed* to be inhumanly beautiful.  She’s not human, she’s Amazon. But how do they express this on screen?  In most movies it would be long, panning shots over her body: probably when accidentally being walked in on nude or nearly-nude(note, its always an accident, because then its a man seeing her ‘unaware’ and not her willingly showing off her own sexual prowess).  It would be expressed by the camera lingering on her on her clothes cling to the curves of her body, or licking her lips.


But nope.  In WW, we’re often reminded how stunningly beautiful she is not only by Gal Gadot’s surprising and demanding screen-presence, but by focusing on OTHER people’s reaction.  Its not just about her being SEXY she is RADIANT.  She walks into a room, and people look.  Your eyes are drawn to her - men and women alike.  We see her walk into rooms and people turn their heads.  She looks like a GODDESS - standing there looking stunning because she looks confident and effortless.  Its not just about her striking eyes, high cheekbones, or lithe body.  Its everything.  ITs HER.  And while Gal Gadot is a beautiful woman, that’s some A+ cinematography right here.

I am haunted.
Haunted by the ghost of the woman I was too afraid to become. 
And I’m the one who killed her. 

I smothered her.
Left her gasping and screaming for air underneath the same white sheets that I rest upon every night. 
You’ll see no blood. 
You’ll see no evidence of a struggle. 
Her body rots between the cracks in my ribcage. 
This is where I hold her prisoner. 

There was no funeral. 
No “goodbye”. 
Just my silent mourning. 
I wear black in the bags under my eyes. 
This haunting is exhausting. 
This haunting is unlike any other. 

You see, my hands are her hands 
and maybe this is why everyone I touch 
remains unmoved. 
Maybe this is why everything I write 
becomes an elegy. 

To her: I’m sorry. But you never had a chance. 
To her: I’m sorry for letting you rot before you ever had the chance to bloom. 
Here lies she whose face haunts me everywhere I turn.
—  a personal elegy
Shhhh.. She’s sleeping

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

Series: Tom Holland Dad Imagines

(check my masterlist for more of my stories)

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The reader gives birth, baby is home and Tom does a livestream to show the baby to his fans.

Warnings: Swearing cause Tom swears IRL.

Word Count: 1,200+

A/N: Comment if you want more of these kind of imagines. Also my requests are open :) Tyoed this while on pain medication so,hopefully its not fucked up.


[Tom’s POV]


   Today I just got done filming what I had to do. Now I get to go home, be with my newborn and spend time with my lovely wife. My wife and I got to bring her home after a few days. Ever since we introduced Tessa to her she’s been hooked,Tessa loves laying by the crib now. She absolutely loves being near the baby.


    The doctor warned us about introducing Tessa to our daughter. Me of course I knew Tessa couldn’t do any harm. Even my wife knew Tessa wouldn’t even harm her. The moment Tessa met her was the most purest and sweetest moment anyone could witness.


   Opening the front door I’m greeted by a happy Tessa. Smiling down at her I rub the top of her head. Pulling out my phone I smile by all the sweet comments on my picture. I posted a picture of me holding my daughter when she was born. Clicking on my story I click the ‘Live’ option. It counts down from three to one after checking the connection. Viewers start racking up once the livestream started.


“Ello guys, today’s been a really good.. I finished filming what I needed to for the new sequence, yes I’m not going to spill details” I laugh at how I recklessly spilled stuff in the past.


   Reading the comments I see them mainly asking about the baby. Other’s asking about how my wife was feeling. Setting my phone on a shelf I pull out a mug. Pulling the coffee pot from its warm home I fill the cup up. Smiling at how the coffee was ready for me, she must have started it knowing I’d be home as of now. I’m so blessed.


“My wife is a trooper guys, she was in labor for eighteen hours.. I’ve never heard her swear so much..” the memory causing me to laugh out loud.


“She was like “Fuck you Holland it’s all your fault”  and I being a lil shit was like “well if we didn’t fuck we wouldn’t be here” then I got slapped on the head which wasn’t fun” chuckling as I take a sip of my coffee. Reading more people comment about how beautiful our daughter is. One person saying she looks like a baby rather than an alien like some baby’s look like when they’re born.


“Thank you for all the lovely comments! You guys won’t believe how lovely my daughter is..” holding my phone in front of my face as the live stream continues. Watching as the side gets spammed with hearts. Then I see the same question pop up, yet It was on the post I made a few days ago. Drinking more of my coffee as I see the same question pop up again and again.


@tomhollanlover6991: WHAT IS HER NAME?!


“Her name is Nova Anne Holland, she was born two weeks earlier which surprised everyone because I didn’t think I would be home for her birth” I respond making my way up the stairs. The carpet feeling good against my aching feet from today’s interview and photoshoot.


“We named her Nova because our daughter is beautiful like Supernova’s and no we didn’t name her Nova after the Marvel character” I explain with a small laugh only imagining the memes they would try to make. My fans and their damn memes will be the death of me.


    Making my way up the stairs I hear Tessa’s tags jingling behind me. Checking my bedroom I don’t see my wife. The only other place she could be is in the nursery. Walking down the hall I see Nova’s galaxy plaque with her name on it hanging from the door. Continuing to talk to my fans as I get closer towards the door.


[Reader’s POV]


“Oh my,you’re so beautiful.. so so beautiful” You whisper down at Nova,the rocking chair moving slowly as you cradle her in your arms. Her little finger wraps around yours as she lets out a little yawn. Watching her eyelids droop were falling due to sleep beckoning her.


“Let’s get you off to bed love” her eyes closing slowly as you get up from the rocking chair. Smiling at the sight of her hand still wrapped around your finger.


“Your daddy and I love you so much darling” Pressing a soft kiss to her head before lowering her into her crib. Slowly taking her hand off of your pointer finger,her small hands making your heart melt at the sight. This little human you created was everything to you.


   Taking the small multi-colored purple knit blanket off of the railing. Laying it across her body you tuck the sides so she’s in a semi blanket cocoon. She cried the most when she was cold, which we learned quickly. Tom’s voice could be heard through the door. Freezing I look to see Nova stirring in her sleep.


Thomas I swear to God.


“I’ll show Nova to you, she’s probably sleeping by now” The door opens to reveal Tom. He peeks in the room entering slowly. A smile popping up on his face as he sees you. You were dressed lazily and felt like death, yet he still looked at you like you were a million dollars.


“Shhh… she’s sleeping Tom, I don’t want her to wake” you whisper holding a finger to your lips. He walks over towards you giving your cheek a swift kiss.


   Turning the camera around he shows Nova to his fans. His free hand reaches down towards Nova. Tom strokes her cheek gently with his finger down to her chin. Nova smiles in her sleep at her father’s touch making you almost die from the cuteness. 


    His eyes full of adoration while he looked at her. Tom ends the livestream and puts his phone away in his pocket. Leaning against his chest as he held you next to him. The two of you looking at your beautiful child together. Tom kisses you on top of your head making you sigh out in content,life was perfect.


“C’mon I’ll got put the kettle on, if she cries I’ll head back up” You whisper taking Tom’s hand giving it a small tug. You didn’t know how much time you would have with him before he would have to take off again.


“Can we look at her for five more minutes? I feel like she’ll grow up so fast” Tom begs quietly pulling you towards him. Stifling a laugh you nod up at him as he grins. 


“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger and she’s only been home for three days” Your eyes examine her sleeping face. Tom rests his left elbow on top of the railing of the crib. Resting his chin on his hand as he looks down at her. 


“She’s definitely going to say Daddy first” he sends a cheeky grin your way. She is going to say Mommy first, what is he thinking?


“If she’s smart like her mother she’ll say mommy first” you respond in a challenging tone earning a look from Tom.


“Is this going to be a bet?” Tom asks raising an eyebrow up.


“You’re going to lose” you whisper pushing him slightly. He fakes a painful attack placing his hand on his forehead. Opening the door to the nursery Tom grins pulling you towards his body. He picks you up spinning you in a circle. 


“Let’s make a bet,if I win we have another kid and if you win we have another kid” His offer making you laugh a bit as he carries you out of the room. Setting you down he cups your cheek with his hand. The warmth of his skin makes you smile.


“Well I was wanting another kid anyways so we both will win?” you respond brushing a curl out of his face. He lets out a chuckle nodding his head agreeing with you.


“She’s still going to say Daddy first, I just know it… I mean did you see that smile when I touched her cheek? That was brilliant” the excitement in his voice was absolutely adorable.


“Nooooo” you whine wrapping your arms around his neck. 


“It’s going to happen darling, just you wait till Nova says Daddy”  he whispers as his lips kiss your forehead. 


“You cheeky lil shit” a groan escapes your lips as your head falls against his chest. You give up with a sigh of defeat as he laughs holding you close to him. Moments were wonderful like this with Tom, you couldn’t imagine a life without him and Nova. 

5 Years

- You and Harry are poor and Harry hasn’t seen Anne in years. He misses her so much that you suprise him with plane tickets to visit her.

A/N: This is quite short, but it’s such fluff I am in love.

Masterlist linked in bio.


“This is shit! All of this is shit!”

Harry’s hands violently shoved all his crumbled pieces of paper and music journals off of the kitchen table before pounding the sides of both of his fists against the wood, refusing to contain all the frustration that had only seemed to increase inside of him any longer.

He had been trying to write new music for the past three weeks. After visiting the local record label for what felt like the hundredth time since he’s moved from home, they still refused to sign him until he figured out a way to produce music that “didn’t sound like everything else.” He’s tried everything—from writing about his love life to writing about all the angry shit scrambled inside his head—yet nothing seemed to gain their interest.

At that point, Harry had run out of ideas. There was absolutely nothing else he could think of writing about that he hasn’t already, and it was as if every possibility of making music in his future had suddenly turned into a false hope.

It was all he had, though—writing and producing music was the only thing he had going for him and the only chance he had to make money. But it was so much harder than he ever thought possible, for he had been trying for years to gain recognition for his creations, yet nothing came to his avail.

He was on the brink of giving up on everything at that moment—everything.

“Fucking shit!”

Y/n ran from their shared bedroom into the kitchen after hearing the chaos Harry had riled up. By the time she reached the dining table—which was normally used both as a place for them to eat and Harry’s office—he was an absolute wreck. Between the mess upon the floor and the cries that seemed to obstruct the silence that had once been, she had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Harry, wh—what?”

“I can’t—I can’t live like this anymore!” He sobbed, his head in his hands as his lungs began to fail him through his words.

He couldn’t continue living through their financial crisis; between his dead-end attempts to make a career out of his music and Y/n’s minimum wage salaries, it was nearly impossible for them to live a life they both deserved. Their memories were trapped inside an apartment that could barely fit the two of them, all their passionate nights were shared on a mattress with no bed frame, and their life together remained stagnant for far too long.

Harry loved her more than he’s ever loved anything before, and the thought was enough to terrify him.

She deserved so much better than him—she deserved a man that could provide her with all her needs and wants. She deserved every bit of the earth and Harry could barely offer her a fraction of it. He could only provide her with his love and the scraps he made from his failures.

She deserved so much more than him.

“Oh, baby.” She whispered.

She kneeled down to where he was sitting, pressing her forehead to his as she played with the hairs that raided the nape of his neck. She was well aware of how hard their living situation was—especially for him.

He worked hard enough for the both of them. He worked relentlessly, often times skipping meals or refusing to have a proper night’s sleep until he had something done—whether it was a new song idea or even a newly written verse. Stress took over his every move and Y/n knew he wasn’t living a healthy lifestyle.

He was losing himself slowly, and it pained Y/n beyond words to see him live the way he was. She wished she could offer him more help than she was already giving him, but she was busy, too, and she never felt more upset with herself.

“I need my mum.”

The words he’d spoken an innumerable amount of times fell from his lips without much thought.

He hadn’t seen her since he decided to move away with Y/n, which was four years ago at the time. He had sacrificed his entire life to start a new one with Y/n. He figured that moving away with her to a different city would be his opportunity to start fresh on his music career and start making enough money for him, Y/n, and his family.

He had sketched plans upon backup plans to get his music going. He searched through all the different venues, music companies, music managements—everything he could think of—and spent nearly every hour practicing and writing.

He never expected that what he had to offer wasn’t good enough.

To those he showed his music to, there was a list of improvements they felt he had to make. They claimed that his music was either too mainstream or too different, and there was absolutely no in between. He found himself in a rut with his creations and it was far too late to move back in with his family since he nor Y/n were making enough money to pay their rents, bills, and a plane ticket back home.

Anne wasn’t able to afford visiting him either, though, so there was absolutely nothing the either of them could do besides wait until Harry’s music career started to take off—if it ever did.

He missed Anne more than anything. Although he was in love with spending every day with Y/n and getting to experience all of his miserable life with her, he missed the feeling of his mum being around him all the time. He missed absolutely everything about her, especially when he had his emotional breakdowns.

She was his rock and his provider his entire life, and he relied on her for everything until he decided to move away. She kept him sane through all his hectic times and was there for him when nobody else was.

Anne wasn’t only his mum, but she was his best friend, and continuing to live without knowing when he’d be able to see her again was Harry’s own personal hell.

“I know, darling.” Y/n whispered as she let his tears soak her shirt and his body shake in her arms.

He kissed her where her heart was as he squeezed her more into him. His entire world was in his arms and he’s never needed the weight of it more.

“Don’t ever think I regret my life with you, love, please don’t. But my mum, Y/n, my mum—I miss her so much. Phone calls don’t mean shit to me because I’m not w—with her.”

She only nodded, letting him vent to her without any interruption. It brought her comfort whenever Harry was having a breakdown, as sick as it sounded—it just brought her peace knowing that he was letting out all of the emotions he kept in for her sake. He was human, after all, and he deserved to have his moments.

“I need her, Y/n. I need her to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need her to kiss me and tell me how proud she is of me even though I’ve done nothing but fail those around me—like I fail you—and just hold me like she did when I was a kid.”

She shook her head instantly, slowly pushing his body away from hers in order to her eyes to meet his. They were red and soaked with tears, but they were beautiful and was always what got her weak in the knees.

The pads of her thumbs wiped away the tears that fell onto his cheeks, making sure to kiss him a couple of time while doing so.

“You never fail me, Harry. You give me a new reason to fall in love with you every single day and I thank God for you every time I look at you. Your love never fails me, nothing you do fails me. So never think that again, you hear me?”

And she really meant it more than ever, especially in that moment of Harry’s vulnerability. Her heart always hurt knowing that he wasn’t aware of how much she actually did give her, even if it wasn’t materialistic. Nobody provided her with as much love and safety as he had, and it was something she’d never be able to get enough of.

He got her through all her troubled times and all her insecure moments. She needed him and wanted him more than anything money could buy, and she’d spend the rest of her dying days attempting to make him believe it.

“You’ll see your mum soon, okay? If I can promise you one thing, it’s that you’ll see her soon.“

She kissed his cheeks again before they sat in silence together, all wrapped up in each other’s arms as they waited for Harry to finally calm down. They hadn’t found a lot of time within the past three weeks to spend loads of time together, so even just the half hour of holding one another was enough to mend him quite quickly.

“Can you promise me something else?” He breaks the silence, his voice slightly hoarse from the screaming that took place earlier.

She nodded.

“Can you promise me that whenever I see my mom again, that you’ll be there? I want you to meet her so properly and make her see why I want to marry you someday. I really want her blessing.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grazing her lips softly against his forehead before muttering a small “I promise.”


That was a year ago.  

Ever since that night, Y/n made it her first priority to find a way for Anne and Harry to reunite. She never wanted to see that side of Harry again, and she’s been through the God awful pain that came from missing a parent. Y/n had lost both of her parents in a car accident, and she never wanted Harry to go through what she had to for the following years.

So, she started working double shifts at her job—gathering and saving as much money as she possibly could for a couple of months straight. Airfare was quite expensive, especially since she planned on buying two round-trip tickets and intended on being able to pay the rent and bills for that month and somehow buy food and necessities during the trip.

She intended on leaving it a surprise for Harry, as well, and was able to make up plenty of excuses as to why she wasn’t able to be at home as much. He was quite upset, but she found it was quite easy considering Harry was keeping busy with his music throughout that time as well.

To say she was exhausted was an understatement. She had never worked so hard in her life and never thought she had it in her to make as much money as she did. It made the living situation slightly easier during the time. She knew every lost hour of sleep and every extra second spent working would all be worth it in the end.

And it was all worth it, especially now.

The confirmation for her order is right in front of her; two round trip tickets to Holmes Chapel. It’s a sight she’s been desperate to see for a year now, and she lets out a sob as she reads the words over and over again. It’s real, it’s happening, Harry’s ticket to happiness is right in front of her and she has never felt so accomplished in her life.

As she prints out the tickets from her nearly broken down printer—that took her almost two hours to fix—she contemplates whether to wait a week for their sixth year anniversary or just go to him now and gift it to him.

But as she stares at the plane tickets in her hands, she just can’t keep it a secret any longer.

Y/n’s holding everything Harry’s needed right in between her fingertips. Everything that Harry has worked so hard for is right here, inked on printer paper right in front of her and there’s just absolutely no way in hell she can keep this information from him—he’s waited long enough.

She eagerly makes her way to their bedroom, a slight squeal leaving her lips as she makes her way to the doorway of their room. She sees Harry in the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of black boxers as he shaves the stubble under his chin.

He smiles softly upon her entrance, but quickly goes back to shaving the extra bits of his facial hair. She bites her lip at his nearly fully exposed body, but quickly regains her composure as she remembers exactly what she’s here to do.

“Sweetums?”

Harry pats the excess hair from his razor as he looks up.

“Hm?” He hums, his eyes drifting away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror over to where she stands beside their bed.

She has tears in her eyes, but they’re much different from those Harry has seen before. Normally, along with her tears comes a frown on her face and red-tinted cheeks—only the smallest examples of how much her features drown in sorrow whenever she’s upset. But as he stares at her in the way she looks now, there isn’t a trace of sadness within her. Instead, her lips are up in a slight grin and the eyes that are filled with tears are staring at him in admiration. She’s glowing, too, and he swears he wants to look at her in this way for the rest of his life.

“What’s that, love?”

He nods his head slightly, referring to the two pieces of paper that are clenched between her fingers.

She takes a step closer to him as her eyes gleam at the man she’d do anything for. She wishes nothing to be as close to him as possible in this moment, but also wants to be far enough so that she can fully see the product of a man who’ll finally be reuniting with his mother.

“I got you tickets to see your mum, Harry.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, Harry nearly chokes. He drops everything on the floor—his shaver and his comb hitting against the counter and nearly breaking to pieces around his feet. His hands grip along the edge of the sink, face paling and eyes widening at her through the bathroom mirror.

He almost thinks he misunderstood her somewhere—that maybe what she actually said got scrambled in his head to somehow make him hear what he could only dream of hearing. But her face reassures him that he did, in fact, hear her currently and that he just couldn’t believe it.

Y/n’s tears fall down her cheeks as she giggles, observing how he still hasn’t moved a single muscle and the color in his face still hasn’t returned.

“You’ll be at home for a month and you’ll be leaving in two weeks.”

She takes another step closer to him, her smile never fading as he finally lets out a choked sob. Tears are already forming in his eyes and his hands hold tighter against the sink, but words seemed to be trapped in his throat and all that his brain can process is the pounding of his chest and the air that has yet to be knocked out from his lungs.

“I know that when we talked, you said that if you ever had the chance to see your mum again that you’d want me to come with you. I figured that that would be unfair to you, since you have spent so much time with me and haven’t been able to see her in so long. I decided to compromise and—and I’m only visiting for the first week but I figured it’d be enough time to—Harry?”

Her eyes narrow i concern as she watches him nearly fall backwards from his prior position, nearly tripping over his own feet as he finally turns around to look at her properly. Neither of them say anything as Harry stumbles towards her frame—eyes still bewildered and face still pale. He nearly trips over the sheets on the floor, but he quickly regains his balance before his hands find their way upon her cheeks.

He wants to say everything he’s thinking—he wants to tell her how thankful he is and how much he loves her. He wants to express every ounce of gratitude and give her everything she’s ever deserved in this moment. Hell, he wants to get on his fucking knees and worship all the blessings she’s ever given him and love on her until she can barely speak anymore. But all that falters nearly seconds after he reaches her.

“Harry—“

He sobs—complete soul shaking sobs. Everything he’s feeling completely overwhelms him to the point where he ends up on his knees. His body collapses and his lungs are constricted but he has never felt so good in his life.

Y/n falls with him, cradling him again her chest as she presses chaste kisses along his forehead. Her hands rub up and down his back in an attempt to calm him from his cries, but he doesn’t back down. He’s hasn’t felt this amount of happiness in so long that he feels there’s nothing else his body can do.

He reaches his hands up to her face again, admiring her from what he can see between all the tears in his eyes and the squinting of his lids. He presses his lips to hers, but the kiss doesn’t last long before he’s sobbing again—bringing her face down to the dip of his shoulder while he holds her there.

She giggles, shaking her head softly.

“Didn’t I promise you, love?”