#I need mental help so fucking badly but I live in England where my only fucking option is either better help

[sadfraudfrogs]

I currently need to throw my phone into a river because if my mum looks through my phone I'm fucked

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Pain Part 4 (Finale)

Regulus Black AU 

Summary:   Losing everything that makes life worth living is the worst thing that can possibly happen. Is it possible to gain some of it back or is everything truly lost forever? Regulus’ life falls apart after losing his family. Moving on isn’t possible. Living each day is a curse, not a blessing. Sirius finally steps in to fix the problem but will Regulus and the reader be receptive?  

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Death, angst

Link to Part 3

Song at the beginning: “Sound of your heart” by Shawn Hook

_______

Baby, I'm in love with you, Oh, and I'm missing the sound of your heart beating. Baby, you were mine to lose. Oh, and I'm missing the sound of your heart beating

The whole journey to New York, Regulus didn’t say a word. He sat looking dead ahead with a cold expression on his face. Sirius had tried to say something a few times only for his brother not to respond. Giving up, Sirius leaned back and left Regulus to his thoughts.

Little did he know, Regulus was internal panic. He was furious with himself. You had come to him. Regulus had been pleading with any deity that would listen to bring you back home to him…where you belonged for three years. You came home and he ordered you to get lost.

What kind of husband am I?

Regulus thought in misery.

She came home to me and I told her that I never wanted to see her again. What the fuck was I thinking? She probably won’t want to see me.

“Reg, she will talk to you. She wouldn’t have come back to England if there wasn’t some love left in there for you.”

Sirius finally said. He had nearly had enough of sitting in awkward silence. Regulus took a breath.

“You didn’t scream at her to get the fuck out and that you never wanted to see her again. That was all me. God damn, I am an idiot. I lost my shit when she mentioned Mila. I’ve been selfish, Sirius. I was only thinking about myself. I didn’t think of how Y/n was feeling. She tried to keep us together after Mila died and I just quit. She begged me to open up and I wouldn’t.”

Sirius frowned. He was trying to think of the right things to say but everything seemed wrong.

“Regulus, again, no one blames you for how you have acted. If it were me and Mila was my daughter I would have fallen apart too. I may not understand your loss from a parent’s perspective but I still grieve my niece. You need to be honest with Y/n. Tell her how you feel. If you love her, tell her. If you aren’t honest then you could lose her forever.”

Regulus only nodded. For once, Sirius was right. Regulus did need to tell you. This time, he couldn’t just let his temper take control.

I have to be strong for her…for her, I will.

(later that day)

You sat on your couch with a glass of wine in hand. It had been one long day! After getting back to New York, you once again decided to throw yourself into your work. The more that you worked then the less time you would have to dwell on your failed meeting with Regulus.

“I don’t want your fucking help! You’re nothing to me! The day I signed those goddamn divorce papers that you wanted so much…you stopped being anything to me. Now get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Your heart ached thinking of Regulus’ cold words. While you didn’t expect him to welcome you back with open arms, you had expected him to be more receptive. You had “hoped” that the three years that had passed would open him to more dialogue about life after Mila’s death. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Regulus seemed as unhinged and devastated as he did at the moment Mila died in his arms.

Lying back on the couch, you once again mentally chastised yourself for asking for the divorce.

If I was any kind of a wife, I would never have left him.

You thought before shoving the thought from your mind. As you had told Regulus, there was no right way to grieve. You were grieving as badly as Regulus was. Instead of coming closer together the two of you fell closer apart…

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You stood up and moved to put your wine glass in the sink before going to the door. From the best of your memory, you weren’t expecting anyone. None of your new friends had mentioned dropping by. Most of them were out of town on a skiing trip.

“I’m coming.”

You called, running a hand through your messy hair before reaching for your front door. The moment the door opened, you were extremely shocked to see Regulus on the other side. You felt your mouth fall open for a moment as you locked eyes with your husband… ex-husband…whatever…

“Regulus, what are you doing here?”

I managed to get out. Regulus pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath.

“I had to talk to you. I couldn’t let you go again…can we talk?”

You moved aside to let Regulus inside. Never in a million years, did you expect him to come after you. You actually expected to never see or hear from Regulus again.

And just like that, he’s here.

You thought before leading Regulus into the living room.

“Did you come alone?”

You asked, softly. Regulus shook his head. He had ditched Sirius at a hotel. Regulus didn’t care what plans Sirius had. All of Regulus’ focus was on you and you alone.

“No, Sirius is at a hotel. Y/n, I am so sorry about how I talked to you. You didn’t deserve any of that. You came back with good intentions and I was a dick.”

“Reggie, I…”

Regulus held up a hand. He looked at you with pleading eyes as if begging you to hear him out. You sat down across from Regulus with a gentle expression on your face.

“Let me finish, please. I don’t think I will be able to get this out if I don’t say it all now. Y/n, I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for leaving. You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. After Mila died, I felt like my life was over. I wanted to die right along with her but I couldn’t…I had you. You and I still have a life. I never should have signed those divorce papers. I didn’t want to be without you then and I don’t want to now.”

You felt the tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Can we make it work? We’ve both changed…I can’t go through another divorce again. I’ve lost you once and the thought of losing you a second time…I just can’t…”

Regulus reached out and took your hand in his. You swallowed seeing that he still wore his wedding ring. Regulus stroked his finger over your engagement and wedding ring.

“I will do everything that I can to ever stop that from happening. As you said, Mila wouldn’t want us to be apart.”

Regulus waited a moment before moving to kneel in front of you. His grey eyes were hype focused on your face looking for any sign of displeasure or distrust. Regulus was thankful to see none. He knew that you were trying not to cry. You were trying to be brave but your resolve was fading.

Reaching up he gently brushed a stray tear away from your cheek before taking your hand back in his.

“Y/n, I loved you from the moment that I saw you. I know you always thought that was foolish teenage boy talk but it's true. Please don’t make me be alone again. The last three years without you have been hell.”

You swallowed back a sob before sliding down onto Regulus’ lap.

“I love you too. I’ve never stopped.”

That was all that Regulus needed. He leaned forward to capture your lips in a soft sweet kiss. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you moved to deepen the kiss. Placing a leg on either side of Regulus’ body you gently sucked at his bottom lip.

“I need you, Reggie.”

A small smile played at the corner of his lips.

“I need you more.”

He moved to lift you into his arms as you glanced over his shoulder.

“My bedroom is over there.”

Regulus chuckled, nuzzling his face to yours.

“Oh, I would find it or we would just make love on the floor…it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Once in the bedroom, you stood with your face tucked under Regulus’ chin gently kissing his neck.

“I love you.”

You murmured, enjoying each kiss pressed to his creamy skin. Regulus’ eyes were closed while he breathed slowly.

“Love you more.”

Regulus replied before tilting your face back to his. Grey eyes looked into yours for a brief moment before Regulus thrust his tongue into your mouth. Your heart fluttered as you couldn’t believe the actuality of this moment. Regulus wanted you. He wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

As your hands moved to unbutton his shirt, Regulus hand’s shot up to grab yours.

“Wait, before we go any further, please be my wife again? I know that we aren’t exactly who we were 3 years ago but we can learn. We can make it work.”

You stood on your tiptoes to wrap yourself back around his neck. Regulus was right. Both of you had changed but parts of you were still the same. The night Mila died parts of both of you died right along with her but other parts of both of you lived. The parts that lived needed the other.

“I’ll always be your wife. Our hearts understand each other…We did then and we still will now.”

_______

@amelie-black @georgeweasleydumbhoe @jessyballet @knreidy1 @justfinishthis @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @coffeeaddictednymph @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsval @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @lostarc24 @un-lovesherself @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @yousmellllikecaca @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @tas898 @li0nh34rt @melaninnbarbie @untoldshortsofthefandoms @wontlookaway @fific7 @mycuddlycorner @shitfaceddaniel-blog @emiwrites3reads @deanwherescas 

[geminisholland]

i’m covered in you Tom Holland x actress!reader

a/n: whew i had fun with this!! i loved writing this so much! also, if you like star wars and want to give my other blog some love @makerkenobi i would appreciate that!! references to my fave song, ivy by miss swift

requests are open

warnings: cussing, angst, and a whole lotta fluff

word count: 2174

join my taglist!

bold and italics are text messages

italics are song lyrics

The hours spent on set between you and Tom had inevitably created a close bond for the two of you. There were many sleepless nights together, running scenes for hours on end before the director finally shot one they liked. You were each other’s rock during the whole process, Tom made a point to come over to your trailer before a particularly difficult scene, and provide support. You were newer to acting, and Tom helped guide you and give you advice during filming. It was safe to say that Tom was your best friend, and you were his. However, playing lovers on screen and having that chemistry was difficult for you to ignore. You knew that deep down, you had feelings for Tom, you just decided from the very beginning that you couldn’t pursue him. You wanted to make sure you established yourself as a professional, which you are.

You were professional for the entire filming process, never having a night where you drank too much and kissed him. Never. You were quite proud of that, because there were many opportunities where you could have. Tom was hard to read, anyways. You never knew how he was feeling, one minute he’d talk about some girl he likes, and the next he’s going on about how he just wants to stay single right now.

The press tour for this movie was coming along in just a few days, and you were doing your best to prepare. Mentally, that is. The press tour was going to have a lot of bonding time. Interviewers asking you questions every day, all day. Sitting next to Tom for hours on end just talking about each other and the movie. Being only a hotel room away from him. Celebrating the movie coming out with trips down to the hotel bar at midnight, you knew this was dangerous.

A ding from your phone made you snap out of your daze, as you picked it up to look at it.

Tom: Are you excited for the press tour or whattt

You: haha yesss i’m so excited & also kinda nervous?? idk why

Tom: I have that affect on people

You: shut up

You: it’s effect btw

Tom: No it isn’t

You: uhhh... yes it is dumbass

Tom: Shut up

Tom: I’ll see you in a few days in the best city ever

You: you’re only saying it’s the best city because it’s your city

Tom: Ya that’s why it’s the best

You: you’re so annoying i’ll see you soon

With that, you locked your phone, and resumed packing. You really only needed to pack pajamas and workout clothes, because all your outfits for the press tour were being brought in by your stylist. You really couldn’t complain about any of this, you got to play dress up for a month or so, hang out with Tom, and talk about a movie you’re really proud of. Oh, and also travel across the world. That part was pretty cool.

You flew into London a day early so you would have time to adjust to the time difference. Tom was kind enough to invite you to stay the night at his house before the two of you left for hotel rooms every night.

When you arrived, you were extremely tied, and didn’t have the energy to hang out with Tom’s entire family, and his roommates.

“Hey everyone,” You said as you walked into his house. Tom was behind you, carrying one of your bags.

“It’s so heavy,” He groaned out, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was never very subtle about what was on his mind.

“Hey y/n!” Harry called out. “We missed you!”

You looked around the room to see just about everyone that Tom knows sitting in his living room. You weren’t expecting to be met with at least ten people, right after you got off of a ten hour flight.

“Oh... hey!” You let out, your eyes were wide with shock. You were really tired, but didn’t want to be rude. “How is everyone?”

You made your way around, saying hello to everyone, as Tom put away your luggage in the guest room. He came downstairs, and you turned around to look at him. He had the biggest smile on his face, he loved seeing you with everyone. Of course, you had already met and hung out with his family and friends, but you were special to him; which means you getting along with his family and friends was really important to him.

“Hey, Tom,” You said. “Can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, darling,” He responded. You grabbed his arm, leading him out to the backyard so you could talk in private.

“That was really nice of you to have everyone here,” You acknowledged. You looked up at him as he flashed you a grin. He was overflowing with excitement, it had been a few months since you last saw each other in person.

“Everyone missed you,” He explained. “Myself included.”

“I missed you too, Tom.” You looked up at him, your arms were still interlocked together as you stood on the gravel, overlooking his backyard.

“I don’t want to be rude,” You started. He furrowed his brows as you continued, “But I’m really exhausted, and I think I need to just take a little nap. Can everyone come back for dinner?”

“Oh, of course!” He exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking- I was just so excited you were coming, and everyone else was too I ju-“

“Tom, it’s okay,” You smiled at him. He relaxed as your eyes met. “I’m really appreciative, Thank you for doing this. I just need some sleep right now.”

“Of course,” He nodded. The two of you went back inside, and Tom had asked everyone to come back later to give you some time to unwind. You walked into the guest room he had made for you, and laid down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as you drifted off to sleep.

Having dinner with everyone later was extremely fun, and you were feeling like yourself again. The entire stay at Tom’s house was incredible, the two of you messed around a lot, but at the end of the day he was really a great friend. The morning you two were getting ready to leave for the press tour, he brought up tea to your room. It was the little things, you thought.

That day consisted of driving to the hotel, getting ready for interviews, and talking a lot about the movie. The two of you ended up in the hotel bar later that night, starting off the press tour by getting drunk. There were multiple days of this; you went from England, to France, to Germany, Spain, everywhere. You and Tom were having so much fun, all you did was talk in interviews, eat good food, sightsee, and get drunk. It was magical, actually. But everything changed when you went to Italy.

“We have Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland here, promoting their new movie,” The interviewer spoke into the camera. You and Tom sat beside each other, smiling as they continued to talk and ask questions.

“Was this movie more difficult to film, Tom? Because of how dark it is?” She asked, and Tom nodded his head.

“Oh, definitely,” He began. “I had a hard time with scenes, but luckily I have an amazing costar who helped me out with them.” He placed his hand on your shoulder as he looked over at you.

“And you, y/n?” She started. “It was also difficult?”

You nodded your head, “It’s definitely something I’ve never done before.” All three of you laughed before you continued. “Yeah, it was very difficult, actually. I’m very lucky Tom was there, there were a lot of tears- on and off screen!”

The three of you let out a laugh again, and Tom took his hand off your shoulder, and it fell onto your lower back. You gave him a quick look before the interviewer continued to ask questions.

“Because this movie is so dark, I thought it would be fun to ask some fun, lighthearted questions!”

You and Tom nodded, and she started to begin.

“What are you favorite colors?”

“Blue,” You let out.

“Green,” Tom responded.

The questions kept coming, and you and Tom were having a lot of fun with them. It was something different, and you liked that. Then, she asked the question that changed everything.

“What song reminds you of the other person?” She asked. You and Tom looked at each other, thrown off by what was just asked.

“Uhh,” Tom started. “I think I’d have to say Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra.”

You laughed, knowing why he said this.

“We had a lot of dance parties in the hair and makeup trailer to this song,” Tom answered. You nodded your head.

“And you, y/n, what song reminds you of Tom?”

You hesitated, you knew what song he reminded you of, you just were scared to say it out loud.

“Umm,” You drifted off. Tom stared at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know why, but my brain is saying ‘Ivy’ by Taylor Swift.”

You and Tom looked at each other, he looked confused; raising an eyebrow to indicate his confusion. The interviewer cleared her throat, then changed the subject. You spent the whole interview on edge, Tom kept giving you the side eye, and you knew you were going to have a conversation about it after.

Except after wasn’t until much later, you had at least three more interviews to do that day. When this interview ended, you didn’t have any time to chat with him. Your makeup artists rushed over to do touch-ups before the next interviewer walked in.

You were in agony, you wanted so badly to talk to him about this, but the two of you had no time alone. You were doing your best to not look at him, you couldn’t make eye contact right now.

Finally, you wrapped up the interviews for the day, and you and Tom started heading to your hotel rooms.

“What was that?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence as you walked back to you rooms.

“What was what?” You played dumb, but still looked at the ground.

“Look at me,” He demanded. You looked up at him, he was taller than you, and you were already in a vulnerable position. “You told me that ‘Ivy’ was a song that made you feel like you were in love, do you not remember that? You said that when we were filming.”

“I remember.”

“Then what the fuck was that?”

You breathed in, your heart was racing and you started to sweat. You were growing anxious. You looked behind him to see your hotel room number, you were hoping you could escape this. Maybe this wasn’t healthy, you thought. Running away from your problems. You just couldn’t handle him saying anything other than that he feels the same for you. You tried to move forward, but he blocked you.

“Don’t run away from me,” He growled out.

“Fine,” You said. “What do you want me to say?”

“What you meant,” Tom responded. He started to back up, so he was against the wall right next to your hotel door. You stood across from him, on the other side of the door.

“What I meant,” You were stalling. He stared at you, waiting for you to response.

You couldn’t look away, though.

So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it. You started it.

Your eyes met each other, and you started to moved your way closer to him. He started walking towards you, your bodies inches apart.

So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it. You started it.

You would do anything for him, anything. He breathed out, and you felt his breath on your face.

“I love you,” You whispered. You nodded your head, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t even look him in the face. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He had a smile on his face.

“Oh, y/n, I love you too,” He said. You laughed, but was abruptly cut off by him smashing his lips into yours. You brought one hand to his neck, the other to your back pocket, trying to find the hotel room key. You stumbled, Tom was closing in on you. There was no space left between your bodies, and you were on fire. His hands were in your hair, and he was pushing you up against the wall. You giggled, you were struggling to put the key into the slot of the door, but Tom ripped it out of your hands and shoved it in the slot. He opened the door, then picked you up, taking you into your hotel room.

Now I’m covered in you.

taglist:

@white-wolf1940 @holyfrickfracks @stylessugarhigh @lilhoodhippie @lowkey-holland @lmaotshollandd @thehumanistsdiary @tomshufflepuff @zspideyy @lovely-blackinnon @hollandfanficlove @minejungwoo @th45

[sarah-blue-eyes]

2020 In Review

Hoo boy, here we go.

[Ok just before I begin. I had this queued to post in the first month of January but it doesn’t seem like that ever happened haha. Better late than never I suppose!]

So I am a nostalgic bitch, and since 2011, have loved to make memory boxes for each year, where I put trinkets and memories into a shoebox. This year I have continued that tradition, but I have also kept track of my happy memories throughout 2020 in my planner. This was done with the intention for me to upload a year-in-review sort of thing in hopes that maybe like, 3 people max on this god-forsaken site will read it. This sort of reminiscence was inspired by my friend @a-lbeit​, who has done these for a few years now and me, as a slut for nostalgia, was encouraged to do the same back in January (I think? What even is my memory at this point?)

2020, as it has been for many, was a very shit year, and I am no different. I would safely say that this year has undeniably been the worst I have lived through. But I am here. I am present. And I have made it through some of the darkest times to face 2021 with a new sense of hopefulness. Keeping track of my happier memories has been something that has truly got me through this clusterfuck of a year, so I am glad that I can finally go through them all again and share them with you.

Read it, or don’t, I don’t give a shit what you do with your time, but if you do, I hope that you aren’t bored to tears. And I hope to keep myself accountable to continue to do this for years to come.

Buckle up, grab a hot drink and a snack and get comfy, because this is a JOURNEY.

January:

· Kicked the new year off with hosting a 1920’s themed party with some of my closest friends at my family home at the beach. Had fun with drunk SingStar, playing What Do You Meme, creating a playlist with everyone’s top 3 songs of the decade (it was a bangin’ playlist I must say), and just overall drinking too much and having a riotous time

· I remember going to the beach New Year’s Day (as is tradition in Australia) and playing ultimate frisbee in the shallows and completing a crossword puzzle on the sand (I am a 75-year-old woman, it is just a fact of life)

· I also had my friend Kirsten from South Australia stay with me for the New Year’s period and it was lovely to have a guest over! I haven’t spoken to her much this year, she sort of fell off the face of the planet, but I hope she is doing ok.

· Went town to Torquay (a beach town in Victoria) for the 6th time for Beach Mission, which is essentially a holiday program for kids in preschool-year 9 where we run activities for them. It’s a Christian-based program but the aim isn’t to convert the kids or anything like that, it’s more to show God’s love to them through our actions and how we as Christians live our lives. It’s also a convenient way for parents to dish their kids off for a few hours too haha. This was my final year of being a part of this program, and I am so pleased to have made so many memories and (hopefully) impacted many children’s lives during my time there

· I remember going on a late-night beach walk with my boyfriend Josh, talking about what the year had in store for us. We were just sitting on the beach, as you do, and I saw a shooting star. I can’t remember what I wished for (if anything) but in that moment, life was a dream.

· The week after beach mission I started at my new internship! It was for a place called KidsCo, who run school holiday programs at workplaces, so parents don’t need to take time off work to look after them. I helped with client relations and a lot of behind-the scenes stuff. I really loved it there

· On the very first day of my internship I remember there was torrential rain, and the train home was delayed by like, an hour or so lol

· One of the best parts about interning at KidsCo was that they were the official child-minding service for the Australian Open. I make an effort to go each year, but I was lucky enough to get free ground-entry for me and a guest for the duration of the event. I went quite a few times and got to take my mum and Josh along as well.

· Saw my only concert of the year, The Veronicas, at the Australian Open. When I say the moment the violin riff at the start of Untouched absolutely went the fuck off is an understatement. Grade 5 me would have cried (and 23 year old me did a little bit too tbh.) Yet another of one of my “all-time-favourite-songs” that I’ve had the pleasure of hearing live. (I also went through the year feeling sad that this was the first time in 11 years I hadn’t gone to a concert, but this one certainly fell through the cracks)

· Started planning my trip to the UK to see my twin sister, and best friend, Jess

· Went away to Rye for the Australia Day weekend #changethedate. An excellent time with excellent mates, and went to the beach pretty much every day and got mindlessly sloshed every night

· Listened to the Triple J Hottest 100. I think 4 of my picks made it in, which was pretty good

· Continued my job as the office manager/events coordinator at my church

February:

Basketball started back after the summer break for my two different teams, The Vikings and The Wildcats (honestly such a highlight of this year with how the rest of it ended up going)

As a team-bonding activity at KidsCo we hired a boat for a few hours and I got more drunk that I had been for a while. It was a very fun time jetting down the Yarra, waving drunkedly at the people jogging by

For Valentine’s day Josh and I had an indoor picnic with our favourite food! The weather was shit for Feb, hence the indoor nature of the picnic

Saw Shrek the Musical with two of my closest pals, Bec and Katie (I honestly forgot that this happened in 2020 hahaha) but it was ICONIC

Had a Jackbox night with The Boys

Had my cousin Amy from England over for dinner! I hadn’t seen her in 5 or 6 years, so it was so lovely to connect again like no time had passed at all

Went to Healesville Sanctuary, a lovely conservation park which focuses on preserving and educating its visitors about Australian animals, with Amy

 Went to mini-golf for a friend’s birthday on the leap day. He technically celebrated his 6th birthday which was excellent

Saw Cody Ko and Noel Miller live with Bec and Katie

Finished working at the church office to make room for the potential job opportunity at KidsCo

March:

Ahhh March, you shitstorm of a month. This is where everything started going downhill.

The first thing of note that happened this month was me injuring my ankle at basketball, which had me out of action for a few weeks. It was especially bad because I was nearing the end of my internship and was hoping to do my best work so that I would be chosen to stay on as an employee, but had to take a week or so off to rest my ankle. My ankle would continue to be tender and sore for most of the rest of the year

Went away for the Labour Day long weekend with the family

Finished up my internship at KidsCo. Honestly was lead to believe that I would be staying on as an employee and felt sort of betrayed after all the work I did for them, but whatever

 Had a party at Bec’s house to listen to Triple J’s Hottest 100 of the Decade. One of my favourite songs was number 1 which was a pleasant surprise

Went down to the holiday house for a few days just to have so me time and sort myself out

Animal Crossing New Horizons came out haha. Honestly was one of the highlights of this year though. I stayed up until midnight so I could download it as soon as it was available because that’s the sort of person I am  

Mum’s birthday dinner with Dani, one of my best friends, and her girlfriend Amy

Went for a hike at Sugarloaf Reservoir with Josh and got spooked by a mob of kangaroos

April:

My mental health started really taking a downward spiral this month for multiple reasons which I won’t get into here, but this is more a note to my past self to say that it will all be ok I guess? Idk I just felt like this needed to be here

Did my ankle badly again on Good Friday

Watched the Overwatch League live with my friends and just memed in the livechat lmao

WARNING - this is a bit TMI but I am going to share anyway since it was a big part of this year, and if you are reading this you are either a stranger or a good friend so I really don’t care lmao: This month I also started to get bad pains in my uterus, like, not period pains but deep, stabbing pains. This continued on for the next few weeks without me doing anything about it, except for increasingly getting stressed about it, although I will talk a bit more about this later.

Josh and I celebrated our 6th year together which was ~wholesome~

Called my friend Ashley from the US and just caught up. It was nice to see her face again. She is a good egg. I haven’t talked to her since but I really hope she’s ok.

May:

Watched Star Wars with Josh and his family for “May the 4th”

Started a volunteer job at Kivuli, a non-for-prophet that is based in Kenya, and started helping out with their website and social media stuff

Zoom movie time with my friends, we watched How To Train Your Dragon I think? Athough everyone was talking over the movie so I didn’t really get anything out of it

Played Scattergories (one of my favourite games) with Bec and Jess on zoom and just wrote really stupid and funny answers and I remember this being just what I needed

Went for a long walk with mum and one of her friends and her daughter on a track we don’t usually go on, which was a nice change of scenery

Went down to the holiday house for the first time in forever since restrictions were eased, at least for a little while lol, with the fam

Went to Portsea for a walk along the beach with Bec and her husband Trevor

Did an online trivia night that night with a big bunch of friends

Had a doctor’s appointment to see what was goin’ on down there. Honestly freaked that it could be something REALLY bad. Got booked in to have an ultrasound the next week, so at least I’d be finding out what was wrong soon.

The day after I got my results was the 21st of May, the day my mum and I were meant to be flying out to the UK to see my sister and her boyfriend. It was already hard enough a month or so before when I had to cancel my flight, but this day was so SO difficult. I can’t remember the last time I cried so hard. I am so blessed to have a boyfriend like Josh though. He was by my side the whole day, and held me as I cried. Oh man I am crying as I write this now, it was such a hard time but I know I will see my sister again.

And then the day after THAT whole ordeal was my birthday, which was meant to be spent in London with Jess but it turned out to be the first birthday we’ve had apart. This day was also hard, but made better by being with loved ones and having dinner at my grandma and grandpa’s house. Grandma’s roast potatoes make everything better.

Went to Geelong to see the other side of my family, it was so good to see my nan again. I love her very much.

Went to the Briars with Bec and went on a lovely nature walk and saw a lot of little wallabies and even an emu

Had an ultrasound and my pain turned out to be a 10cm wide cyst!!! So fun!!!!! Thank the heavens it wasn’t a child. I was so relieved. It is still in my body so that’s cute tho.

June:

Applied for a bunch of jobs, and even got a few interviews! Still no job.

The absolute highlight of this month, and maybe even the whole year, was going away to Lake’s Entrance and Yarram with mum, dad and Josh. It was so good to go to the country, I love country towns so much and the wildlife and nature is so beautiful in the eastern part of Victoria. If you ever get the opportunity I recommend going there!

We ate so much nice food and just relaxed. It wasn’t a perfect replacement for not going to Europe, but it was something at least.

Did more work for Kivuli which kept me busy

Went to Bec’s house to bake a cake. She came out to me as bi this day too, and the cake was coloured like the bisexual flag!

Started a short course through the university I went to in Facebook for Business. It was a great way to build up my skills.

Played Animal Crossing with Dani’s little sister, Tami, a very wholesome time

Looked after Josh’s dog Jed while his family went away for the weekend (also went into the start of July) and was honestly the greatest time

July:

Halfway through the year. Thank fuck.

Had another job interview

Went on lots of walks

Was just generally cold

Did a lot of cleaning

Painted the downstairs rooms at church, which took a few days and a lot of back pain, but it’s cool to think that I was able to contribute my energy and time to something while I was not feeling good at all

The restrictions were tightened again, meaning that I couldn’t go further than 5kms away from my house, except to see Josh, so this was a really lonely time for me.

Really got into Masterchef with mum this season. They had all returning contestants from other seasons so that was really fun to watch.

Got and assembled a new couch upstairs that I can say I actually own myself. I absolutely love it.

More walks, despite the cold

This was a very uneventful month, but that’s ok!

August:

Had a call with the hospital I’ll be having my cyst surgery with. It was good to know that things would be started. I had to have a blood test and a second ultrasound then put on the waiting list for surgery. Still no sign on when that will be happening though 6 months later. Just so lucky to live in Australia where all of these appointments are free.

Went for a really nice long walk with Josh. Got shat on by a bird.

Did lots of stuff around the house, just tidying and watering the plants and sorting through my wardrobe to purge all the clothes I grew out of

Had an online Switch games night with some friends which was fun. We played Smash Bros. and Mario Kart and just had a great time!

Ok this sounds super lame but my favourite podcast, The Jenna & Julien Podcast, finished forever which came as a surprise and was just really sad. I really hope it comes back one day.

Did my tax return lmao

Baked rice puff/marshmallow bar things

Made an ASOS order to fill my happiness with material things. Did get some cute clothes and lingerie tho 😉

More games with Bec and Jess, we played Golf With Your Friends this time

Had a cocktail night with Josh, where we just made a bunch of fun cocktails and got drunk. I can’t wait to live with him so we can do this all the time.

Lots of Kivuli work, as we are planning for our 10th anniversary fundraising event

September:

Baked cookies, which was something I did a lot at the start of lockdown but sort of drifted away from. I absolutely love to bake.

Started working for Media-Wize, a small PR company that was started by someone I know at church.

Started playing Among Us at the start of the month

So many Among Us nights omg, just call me queen impostor please

Did my induction for Media-Wize

Got  n e r v o u s  because I kept getting things wrong in my new job. I always seem to fuck up the good things and opportunities that I get

Did a livestream reading of The Great Gatsby on my friend’s Twitch stream. It was really fun and something I had never done before. I voiced Tom Buchannan, which was interesting but cool to sort of get into the character. I hope to do something like this soon.

I burnt my hair while cooking dinner and had to give myself a haircut lmao. It was the first time since 2018 that I had cut it so it was a long time coming anyway.

So much Media-Wize work. It felt good to finally be getting paid to do a job

Got locked out of my bathroom so I had to climb up the laundry chute to unlock it from the inside, all because a fly outsmarted me (it’s a long story… and honestly best told by speaking it)

October:

Had the Kivuli 10th anniversary livestream. Lots of work went into it and it was so much fun! It’s incredible that a non-for-profit that has benefitted so many children and families is still going strong. Such a blessing to see.

Dad’s birthday, and we had a picnic with grandma and grandpa and saw them for the first time since lockdown was somewhat lifted

Walked to Beasley’s nursery with Josh and got a coffee. This was the first proper, not McCafe coffee I had had in months and it was SO good

Played Animal Crossing with Dani

More Among Us, a theme for the last few months of 2020

Watched the AFL Grand Final. Wasn’t super exciting this year tbh, especially since we couldn’t have a BBQ or party or anything, but hopefully next year will be different

Nearly moved out of home with a friend of a friend, but since I didn’t have a job, didn’t think it would be a wise decision. Would’ve been nice though

Did some more Media-Wize work. I haven’t been given anything to do since this time though, so I don’t know what’s going on with that? They really be ghosting me tho.

Applied for JobSeeker so I would at least be getting a little income

New Jackbox came out, and had a games night with The Boys playing all the new games

Voted in the local election

Went to Westerfold’s Park with Josh for a lovely long walk

Played lots of The Sims 4 (but tbh I have been doing this all year)

November:

This month things sort of started to turn around, as Covid wasn’t hitting my state hardly at all, so I was actually able to see family and friends again!

Went to my old primary school with Dani and played basketball and just shot around and talked. She also came over for dinner. It was so nice, and she is a true friend.

Had a picnic at the park at the top of the street with my dad’s side of the family, all together at last

Melbourne Cup Day, not that I really care but it’s nice to get a day off. Went on a day trip to the Dandenong mountain range. It was so, so nice and bought some lovely little things from local shops, went for a bushwalk and had a bakery lunch

Went to the park to throw the frisbee and kick the footy around with Josh and his friends, although they are my friends too tbh

Had a picnic with a group of friends that I hadn’t seen since January, so it was so, so good to catch up with them and have a delicious BBQ dinner

My favourite online comedy group, Aunty Donna’s Netflix series came out! Had a virtual watch party with a few friends and binge watched it all in one go

Had lunch with grandma. This used to be a weekly occurrence but for obvious reasons was put off for this year. I absolutely adore her and every lunch we spend together is so precious to me

Went to Kyneton with some of the family as another day trip

Christmas shopping time again. So weird to be at the shops and feel sort of normal? I went 4 different times in the span of a week and a half haha

Josh’s birthday! We went to this maze place with has a bunch of big mazes and other fun activities. It was such a perfect day. Then we had dinner with his family.

Got a letter from the IRS saying that I needed to provide them with proof of identity, so that was fun trying to sort that out. We love the outdated US tax system <3

Went to a bridal shower for my friend Katie

Went for another hike with Josh to the mountains

Drove down to Geelong for a friend’s wedding and stayed at my nan’s house

Had a pub dinner and Jackbox night while down in Geelong with The Boys

A good friend of mine was leaving to live in Japan for two years, so I went to her house one last time to say goodbye and chill in her pool and just hang out

God why is it so hard to get a job?

December:

Omg we have made it to December. It truly is a miracle with how this year went tbh. And if you have read this far, thank you but also, how little of a life do you have?

Went to my friend Katie’s wedding. Sort of surreal to go to a wedding during a pandemic but it was fun and I got to see a lot of friends I hadn’t seen in a while

Enjoyed the hot weather and went to the beach a number of times with a variety of friends

Went Christmas shopping, and just shopping in general since it was safe to and shops had finally opened again

Got a job at a talent agency where you get gigs as a paid extra in TV shows and movies, which was pretty cool! I even had a professional photoshoot to get headshots done, something that I had never done before. Glad that I could get some pictures to use on LinkedIn though haha. Still haven’t been cast in anything but here’s hoping.

Had dinner and drinks with Josh, Bec and Trev in the city for the first time since it reopened. God I love Melbourne so much. It is just so magical on balmy summer nights. This was such a special evening, and was so good just to be in the city again

Had a lovely day with Dani, starting with breakfast and then going on a hike before the weather got too hot. We went to Sherbrooke Forest, a place I hadn’t been before, and it was incredibly beautiful

Had a number of job interviews this month too, none of which got back to me which was annoying :/

Now it was heading into the time where every weekend is packed with Christmas do’s so I’ll just collate them in this point. Lots of drinks were consumed and many delicious roast dinners

Had our annual Christmas Carol’s service at church. It was a blessing to be back in the building for the first time since March, and to be able to do something I love (singing) with some of my best friends was the best

Christmas eve I went to my grandma and grandpa’s house (on dad’s side) to help them set up for Christmas lunch. Spending time together just the three of us is so special, and I am so glad I was able to come over and just chat and be in their loving presence. Then that night I went to our 11pm church service to bring in Christmas day. It was a great service and was great to see our kick-ass minister give a sermon face-to-face.

Ok here we go, Christmas was a doozy, let’s go. So Christmas lunch was, as I said, with my dad’s side of the family, which is always a great time. Cracking open crackers and fighting over who’ll get the bottle opener or nail clippers is always a highlight haha. But we had the fucking best roast potatoes I swear. I need to know what my grandma puts into them because I could genuinely eat 20 of them and still have space. Then the rest of the afternoon was spent in a food coma until I went to Josh’s house to spend dinner with his family. Another delicious meal and great banter was what I needed, although I can safely say that I put on at least 5 additional kilos after that day.

The next day the fam and I headed to Geelong to see my mum’s side of the family. Was a great drive down and I listened to all of The Avalanches new album which had just released. Easily the greatest album of the yeah hands-down. So we spent lunch there and absolutely stuffed ourselves with more food. Three Christmas meals really took a toll on me, but I am just blessed as it is to have a loving family and food on the table.

The next day dad, Josh and I headed to the beach to spend that weird time between Christmas and New Year’s. To get there we took the ferry that goes from Queenscliff to Portsea, which is always a fun time, since we don’t often go from one side of the bay to the other (if you don’t know the geography of Victoria I apologise lmao). Mum didn’t come with us as she had some symptoms of Covid, so went home to isolate and get tested. Thankfully she tested negative and she joined us the next day.

Once I got back home I had to prepare the house for my friend Jono who was visiting for new years from SA. Many last-minute chores and cleaning was done haha.

New Years Eve! Went to pick up Jono and my other friend Sarah from the airport and dropped Sarah off at her accommodation and ended up staying there with Jono for a while as this was where the New Year’s party was going to be. Although, in true Victorian fashion, our premier announced that there was going to be a limit of 15 visitors at any house from 5pm that night. Excellent. We love a last-minute change of plans. So we had lunch and spent the afternoon at my friend’s house before heading to a local park to chuck the frisbee and kick the footy around. We also had our second annual NYE trivia competition, which my team lost by 1 point!! Dang I get so competitive, but we will win next year, I can feel it. The new year came through uneventfully, we were in the middle of a game of Scattergories or something like that when someone changed the channel on the TV to see the Sydney fireworks across the screen and like, 4 second left of the countdown. I gave Josh a bog ol’ smooch and gave my friends a big hug. We had done it. 2020 was defeated.

Conclusion (damn this really be an essay tho)

This year was undeniably the hardest year I had ever been through. Going through unemployment for the majority of the year and having no sense of purpose hit me hard but I am entering 2021 with the hope and willingness to get on track with my career. And I think I will be successful. A lot of truly awful things happened around the world this year as well, with the devastating bushfires at the start of the year, the powerful BLM protests, Coronavirus absolutely destroying lives and many, many other global events but through it all, here we are. I hope you all keep well this year and that your 2021 is infinitely better than your 2020.

Song of the Year: Tangerine – Glass Animals

Album of the Year: We Will Always Love You – The Avalanches (I CANNOT stress this enough, but you absolutely must listen to this album!)

TV Show of the Year: The Mandalorian - Season 2

Movie of the Year: Bombshell (the only movie I saw at the cinemas so didn’t have much to go with)

Memory of the Year: Going away with my family and just enjoying time away with each other

Thank you for reading this, if you’ve made it this far, you’re a real one <3

[geeky-introvert]

Abyss II . Hvitserk X OC

Summary: Even though it was one night Hvitserk cannot seem to forget about   Gytha so he returns to her homestead…..Second and final part.

Word count: 2379

Warning: Violence and mentions of rape.

Tag list: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics @aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali​ @naaladareia @inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish​ @igetcarriedawaywithyou​ @laketaj24​ @darlingp​ @tephi101​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @lordsexmachine​ @wonderlandofsu​ @sparklemichele​ @hecohansen31​ @quiche-pocket​

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Over the coming weeks Hvitserk, his brothers and the rest of the raiding party moved further up the english lands, plundering villages. Gathering treasure and taking in new slaves. It was all successful and many of them were proud of this summer's raid.

Hvitserk though couldn’t stop thinking about Gytha, the daughter of the blacksmith. She was everything he could ask for and yet it was almost like forbidden fruit he couldn’t stop wanting more from. His brothers knew this as well, and even though they thought he’ll get over it he never did. So, on their way back, he planned on seeing her once more as they passed by, perhaps even then she might’ve changed her mind and sought adventure in their lands.

His imagination went wild with the different possibilities.

All this changed though when they were making their way back and Hvitserk noticed smoke coming from the same location where Gytha was off in the distance. Before his brothers could say anything he kicked his horse and rode full speed ahead. Eventually his brothers and the raiding party follow him to investigate.

When he arrived it was what he feared. The cabins had been burned down, livestock killed, but that wasn’t even the worst. There on a spike was the head of the blacksmith, Gytha’s father.

“Gytha!” He called out, hurrying around the settlement seeking for her, or any forms of life.

As he investigated there was a sound coming from one of the smaller cabins still standing. Looking over he saw three small heads poking out, looking directly at him. They were just children, one being older as he shielded his little sisters from the stranger.

His brothers joined him and they slowly approached, hoping to get some answers.

“What happened here?” Ubbe asked in their language.

“The soldiers came.” The boy answers. “They killed everyone, our parents, took our supplies, we have nothing.” He was angry and he had every right to be.

“Did they take anyone?” Ubbe then asked, trying to help Hvitserk get some answers.

“Yeah, Gytha. She fought them but there were too many of them. They took her prisoner.”

She was alive, at least this is what Hvitserk hoped.

The children were helpful and gave them any information they could, even the directions where the soldiers took Gytha. They were still young and Ubbe didn’t feel right leaving them to defend for themselves.

Helga was there and Floki knew what she wanted. The two had been trying for children since losing their first but the gods didn’t bless them. Perhaps this was a chance to help raise these three. The children hesitated but the boy was smart, he knew they wouldn’t survive on their own and so agreed to go with them, since this was the only help they got since the massacre.

Everyone knew Hvitserk was going after Gytha, there was no stopping him. It was just another settlement and so Ubbe convinced them that one more raid would add to their treasure more before heading home.

Hvitserk was pissed, hungry to kill anyone who dared to bring harm to Gytha. He was ready and he was grateful to have the help from everyone else. Even if he didn’t he was going to fight his way through until he got to her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The village was even worse than Hvitserk imagined it to be, but it was a better advantage for them. The place stank, streets filled with wet mud and shit and a lot of the people were already too drunk to even fight them. This wasn’t a village, he didn’t even know what to call it but it was a place that not even his people would live in.

They fought their way through without effort and kicked down each door until Gytha was found. He didn’t even know if she was even alive or still here, but he had to try.

He got to a cabin that was filled with different women, screaming  and trying to escape wearing half their clothes. He ignored them but they weren’t ignored by the others and were taken right away. As Hvitserk made his way further in he came across a room and that’s where he found her, but in a horrible way.

She was chained to the bed, face down, hair mattered, naked and bruises all over her body. His emotions were filled with both sadness and anger before he hurried forward to her. She wasn’t awake, and still wouldn’t wake up as he shook her.

With his axe he cut the chains and wrapped his fur around her battered body before picking her up and carrying her out of that horrible place.

“I’ve got you, Gytha. I’ve got you.” He whispered while glancing at her. She was beaten, badly.

There was nothing left in that horendess place so the order was given to burn everything down while taking the women as slaves for themselves. He had his Gytha back, but the damage was done. She’ll need time and he’ll help her.

Back at their camp Hvitserk right away made sure Gytha had the best healers tending to her while he spoke to his brothers about everything. The children from the burned down village were already under the care of Helga and Floki and he knew they’ll be looked after by them.

He hated that he couldn’t help Gytha sooner, that he wasn’t there for her but Ubbe assured him he had no control over what happened and that she was safe now.

For a while he let the healers take care of Gytha but he couldn’t stop worrying. Suddenly there was a scream and one of the healers hurried out with a cut on her face done by a blade. The others hurried out wanting to get away before he came in to see Gytha awake and holding a blade in hand, but her eyes were both angry and terrified.

“Gytha, it’s me.” He calmly says, trying to get her attention. “You’re safe now, no one is going to hurt you here, I promise.”

She stared at him confused but didn’t let her guard down as she pointed the dagger at him.

His hands raised up showing he had nothing and wasn’t going to hurt her. She had been through shit, he didn’t blame her for acting like this, even towards him.

“It’s alright.” He continued to say softly and slowly approached as if he were getting closer to a crazed horse about ready to bite him. She was still so beautiful, the Gytha he remembered, but hurt.

As he got closer he saw her emotions were cracking, any second she was about to burst into tears. His hand touched her own where he took the dagger away and moved her closer, and that was the moment she fell apart.

Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he shushed her softly, holding and caressing the back of her head letting her pour out her misery.

“You’ve safe, Gytha. You’re safe….” ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

There was nothing left for her in England and that was why she came with us. The journey back was pretty quiet with her, as she wouldn’t talk or look at anyone. Hvitserk continued to give her something to drink and eat, making her as comfortable as he could.

She was going through a lot, meaning she was hurt both mentally and physically, and it was going to take a lot of time until she felt herself again, if she ever did that was.

Back home they were welcomed and there was even a feast but he didn’t go to it, instead he took Gytha to the hunting cabin outside of Kattegat to give her some peace and quiet for as long as she needed.

The days turned into weeks. Gytha still didn’t talk much and spent a lot of time sitting outside, staring over the view at the ocean and the village. He left her be until she was ready.

It was about midday and Hvitserk came outside to bring her some bread and dried meat. Setting it beside her he could only give a tender smile before turning to leave, but then she spoke.

“Why did you come back for me?”

It was the first time she’s really ever said something to Hvitserk. Coming back over he sat down near her, thinking she was finally going to talk to him.

“After our raids I wanted to see you again before we left England and that’s when I found out what happened. The children were the only survivors and helped locate you. I wanted to save you, from that shitty place. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“It’s not your fuck up.” Gytha shrugged. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He admitted while licking his lips a little. “Say what you want I don’t care, but I couldn’t  get you out of my head.”

“Well, you’re probably regretting it now.” She was so blunt, but he knew this already.

“Why would I regret coming for you?”

“You saw it.” She turned her face to look at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “They beat, raped, laughed and mocked me for weeks! They broke me! I’m not the strong willed lady you couldn’t stop thinking about anymore!”

He outburst was expected, he thought to himself, let her let out all her anger.

“What they did to you can’t be forgotten, I get it, but you can be who you once were again if you allow it. I know you, Gytha.”

“No, you don’t know me! We had a one night fucking stand, how could you possibly know me when you barely know anything about me?!”

Hvitserk sighed softly. “I know your name is Gytha, your father was a skilled blacksmith and he taught you well. You’re also a skilled fighter and you take shit from no one. That’s all you would tell or show me. I would like to get to know you more, but it’s all up to you what you decide to do with your life now, no one else has control over it, only you.”

He saw her lips quiver a little before pulling her gaze away from him, biting her lips softly back to try and control her emotions as he patiently waited.

“So, if I decide to leave, you would let me?”

Hvitserk wanted to answer honestly and tell her to stay. The thought of her leaving did bother him however this was her choice along and he’ll accept whatever she does.

“That’s up to you. Whatever you do I’ll accept, no one has control over your choices.”

“It’s not what you want though.” Gytha looked back at him. “What do you want?”

There was so much he wanted. He may as well tell her everything. “I want you to stay with me, become my wife, have my children, fight at my side in battles, to love you forever.”

She might think him insane but she asked and he told her the truth from the heart. For a long moment she stared at him with furrowed brows, trying to understand what he was saying before dragging her eyes off him to look back over the view.

The silence lingered for a long while between them and he gave her the time she needed.

“You really have it all planned out.” She shook her head a little. “You’re fucked up in the head to think I’m the perfect woman for you.”

“So what if I am? I like you, why should anything else matter?”

Gytha looked back at him again, this time with a softer expression. No words needed to be said between them as she gave a soft smile at him, making him smile in return.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Hvitserk was able to bring Gytha into Kattegat after being away for a little over a month. His mother had a feast going on already, but it would be good for Gytha to know his family and the people. He’s been teaching her about their gods and their ways, about his home and telling her more about his family. Slowly he noticed the change in her, her recovery was getting better. Now they were in the hall together.

Gytha looked at her surroundings, curious about the feast and seeing the people not behaving like savages as all Christians believed them to be.

Looking for Ubbe Hvitserk nodded at him to get what he had been keeping safe before they sat at the table together. Ubbe returned with the blade he had given Gytha before he left.

“I still got yours. I found this and thought you’d want to keep it.”

“This piece of shit?” Gytha smirked softly which made Hvitserk giggle softly. “Well, if it means so much to you than fine.” That was the Gytha he remembered.

The children adopted by Helga and Floki then came over to see Gytha. She was close to them and was grateful they were alright, even more that they were here being looked after.

“Are they good people?” She asked him while looking over to see the children with Helga and Floki.

“They’re the best. Good people who love children. They lost their own a while ago, the children will be raised well under their care as their own, I promise.”

“Good.” She answered simply before looking back at the blade in his hands. “Thank you, Hvitserk.” Leaning forward towards him she gave him a gentle peck on the lips.

He wasn’t expecting it but it made him smile softly as she moved away.

“Now, are you going to leave a woman thirsty? How about some drinks?”

“I apologize for my manners, my lady.” Hvitserk says before getting up to get some of them.

Gytha watched him, feeling a soft smile against her lips, feeling like this was a good chance for her to be reborn again, to become what she once was, with his help of course.

She felt like she could be happy here, happy with him.

[supernaturalee]

Then & Now: Part 3 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Past!Gwilym Lee x Reader, Platonic!Joe Mazzello x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Sexual Themes, Character Death, Overall Angst and Sadness 

Word count: 5k 

Summary: It has been nearly ten years since Y/N had last stepped foot in London and made a promise to herself to never return. Yet, here she is back again for two weeks with her best friend in tow. After being left the apartment of her late mother. The same one where she had her heart taken and broken into two by the blue-eyed boy across the hall. When a mistaken knock is answered, blue eyes come flooding back into her life and suddenly two weeks seems like a lifetime.

Previous Parts: One Two

Author’s Note: This is it. The story behind them. I will keep this short but the part is not. Thank you for the love on the last part. Let me know if you want to be tagged in part 4. 

Tagged List: @ixchel-9275​​ @slutforbritdick​​ @reavenedges-lies​​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​​ @what-wicked-delights​ @itsametaphorgwil​ @imgonnabeyourslave​ @beepbeephardy​ @findingillyria​ @theatrefreakgirl​ @ramimalekpan​ @drivenbybri​ 

“Okay. It started when we were five…” Gwilym let out a breath and began the story of he and Y/N. His eyes on his friend as he took another sip of scotch. “This flat belonged to my grandparents before they left it to my mum who in turn gave it to me. Her great aunt lived across the hall. Y/N and her family used to visit every summer holiday and that's how it all began. The story of us.”

Age 5:

Gwilym stood behind his grandfather’s legs at the top of the stairs. Trying to catch a peek of the strangers at the bottom of the stoop. His grandfather’s hand resting on the boy’s head messing with his hair.  Before moving beside him and getting a better look at his grandparents’ neighbor’s visitors. A small family of three consisting of a taller burlier man with a large mustache, a short blonde woman, and a tiny girl. The man hugged Mrs. Amelia before carrying two large suitcases up the stairs. Amelia leaned down kissing someone’s cheek before moving to hug the adult woman. He then watched the small Y/H/C girl struggle to pull her small suitcase up the stairs. Turning down the help from both adults with her, a man with the same hair color and a woman with a kind smile. How could someone so small, seem so stubborn. The little girl grunted softly as she pulled the suitcase up a single step at a time. Gwil laughed as he watched her. 

“Gwilym, why don’t you go help the little one?” His grandfather said to him looking down at his grandson that he shared the same intense blue eyes with. “Be a gentleman.” He smiled at the young boy before watching him make his way down to the little girl. 

“Hi. Could I help you? I can do it.” Gwilym smiled at her. She huffed looking up at him from behind her bangs and pigtails. 

“No.” She said, shaking her head. 

“What? You can’t say no.” He said. 

“Yes I can. I can do this better than any boy!” She stated before starting up the stairs again.

“Well my grandfather said I had to help you. Makes me a proper gentleman!” He said. All the eyes of the adults were now on the slightly quarrelling children.

“Don’t want your help.” She said ignoring him again as she made it slowly closer to the summit of the stairs. To her this stoop was her Everest climb, she was a mountaineer close to her final peak. To him, it was a chance to be the fastest and the strongest. 

“You are crazy.” He said racing up the stairs to beat her. As soon as he reached the top he looked down at her on the steps and struck his tongue out at her. The adults had since moved on from the children below them. 

“I am not crazy!” She yelled before narrowing her eyes and lugging the suitcase up the last step and onto the landing. She turned back to him and stuck her tongue out. Gwilym couldn’t help but laugh. She may have been stubborn, short, and spoke funny but to the five year old that was everything that he thought was cool. His laugh was infectious to the small New Yorker and she couldn't’ help but start laughing herself. He may have been kind of mean, too tall, and spoke funny but she liked him. 

“Be my friend?” He asked. His blue eyes wide with what adults would call desperation. Yet to him, he just wanted another kid to play with. Everyone else in the building was much older than him, so he needed a friend. Y/N on the other hand, thought she had plenty of friends, they were just of the stuffed variety. So the chance to make one that could talk back to her without her making a funny voice for it was huge for her. 

“Okay!” She smiled sticking out her hand to him like she had seen her dad do so many times to his friends. “I’m Y/N!” Gwilym took it and shook it, smiling back. His eyes now filled with happiness.  

“I’m Gwilym but my mum calls me Gwil.” 

“You have a funny name!” She said as his smile turned to frown. 

“Well you talk funny!” He said. 

“My daddy said we have an accident. Cause we are from New York City! You know the bestest place in the whole wide world!” She threw her arms up and opened dramatically. 

“I have never been to America.” Gwil stated looking at her, “My name is Welsh cause my family is from Wales which is the real bestest place in whole wide galaxy! That is like a hundred zillion times bigger than the world.” He said. 

“What makes it cooler than New York?” She asked as the two followed the adults inside. Y/N’s mom taking the little girl’s suitcase happy to see her daughter making a friend already.

Gwil began to explain how cool his house was and all the stuff it had inside of it. Y/N would counter with something cool from her own home. They spent the rest of the day on Amelia’s floor talking and playing. On track to become fast friends.

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“She wouldn’t let anyone carry her suitcase?” Ben laughed pouring himself his second glass of scotch. 

“Nope. Stubborn as a mule that one is but she was the cutest little girl. I mean, those eyes of hers were always wide with curiosity unless they were narrowed at you in anger.” Gwil chuckled a bit. He was telling the stories of a part of his past he hadn’t thought of in a long time. God, how they returned in an instant, vivid and colorful in his mind. 

“Well keep going. Now you have peaked my interest.” Ben said. He now had an eager need to know what caused such anger and disdain from both parties. He mostly just thought that Y/N and Gwil needed to fuck and get it over with. Cut that angry sexual tension with a very sexy knife, like a katana or a dagger. He pushed the thoughts of what was the sexy type of knife out his head, for now. 

“Alright.” Gwil tipped back another sip. “We are going to skip about ten years ahead in the story. I don’t have the time or the mental capacity or the scotch to do a year by year background.” He said letting out a soft breath. “She and her family started to visit every summer and I made sure to spend at least a month and a half with my grandparents to see her. You see, Y/N’s mom was Amelia’s only family left other than Y/N and Y/N’s father would make his financial trip to the American military base here to do his admin work for the Air Force. We became best friends. We were pen pals and secret keepers. She would write these long letters that had all these pictures attached from her father’s old polaroid. I would write back on postcards from all over England and then Europe, stapling on ripped pages from old books I found that made me laugh or think of her. It’s terribly romantic and cheesy now that I think of it, but we were kids.” He let out a longer breath this time. “She was the most interesting girl in the world to me and I was basically in love with her.” 

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Age 15:

Y/N ran up the stairs quickly, taking her suitcase with her as she made it to the waiting teenaged Gwil. She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was pushed up on her toes, he had grown like a weed over the year since they had last seen each other.  

“I missed you, Gwilym Shakespeare.” She said burying her face in his chest as he hugged her back. His arms around her back, she had grown up as well. A bit more developed than the girl he saw last summer. 

“I missed you too Princess Leia.” He teased her with the name of her favorite fiction character. She always filled her letters with doodles and often it was the rebel insignia. He had even agreed to being Han and Leia for Halloween once they were together at University. In every letter and call, they told each other everything. Secrets, hopes, fears, dislikes, likes, everything and anything. They could keep talking for hours or not talk at all and just hear one read to another. He kissed the top of her head before noticing her father staring at her. He pulled away clearing his throat. “How was your flight, Y/N?” He asked her, pulling away from the hug. 

“Long and Dad complained the whole time that the pilot was incompatent.” She said before laughing. Gwil couldn’t look away as the laughter filled her beautiful eyes with light. 

“I could have gotten us there an hour earlier, I am just saying.” Her father said moving to the teen boy. “Hello Gwilym. You have gotten taller and better looking, young man. Still not as good looking as me but who could be that lucky.” He shook Gwil’s hand before laughing.

“Thank you sir.” Gwilym said smiling lightly, his hands at his side through he longed to hold Y/N close and kiss her. God, how badly he wanted to kiss her. 

“He’s joking. Hello dear. How are your grandparents?” Her mother asked him, hugging the teen. 

“Hello Mrs. Y/L/N. They are quite well, just moving a bit slower. You could never tell with my grandfather though. He still thinks he is as nimble as ever.” Gwil hugged her back. Both adults laughed, as Y/N watched Gwil. He was cuter than any boy she had ever seen, cuter than any pop star or boy band member. She was harboring quite a large crush on the teen aged boy and she needed to tell him. 

“Can Gwil and I go on a walk?” She asked. Her eyelashes battered at her parents. Her father’s smile dropped, sure he trusted young Gwilym but he was still a teenaged boy. Her mother laughed, taking her husband’s hand and nodded. 

“Of course but after you say hello to your aunt first. She misses you.” She smiles. 

“Got it. Gwil, wait here.” Y/N ran inside, her suitcase in tow as she disappeared into the building. Her mother laughed before following her in. Leaving Gwil with the older man. He took a step closer to the boy. Remaining silent for a few moments, the tension between the father and the young man was palpable. Gwil watched him with caution, scared to move and scared to show fear. Thinking the military man could smell it on him. His eyes narrowed at him, he was still taller than teen for now. His Y/H/C cut into the typical military style, his mustache now had gray peppered throughout it.

“You promise to keep her safe?”

“Yes sir.”

“You promise to have her back here in one hours time?” 

“Yes sir.”

“You promise to treat her with the respect and dignity every woman deserves?” 

“Of course sir.”

“Good and know that I have the full force of the United States Air Force behind me. I can find you even if you hide.” He said seriously before smiling. Gwilym gulped nodding. 

“Understood sir.”

“Good. Have fun.” He said before her father moved inside the building, meeting his daughter as she made it to the door. He kissed her cheek, placing a bill in her hand. Y/N smiled moving outside with Gwil.

“Ready?” She asked. He nodded smiling at her. Both teens walked next to each other down the street. Their hands were not touching but close enough for the back of their knuckles to graze each other. They didn’t say anything at first, both teens awkward still. 

“How was the rest of your school year Y/N?” He asked looking down at her as they moved into a nearby park. 

“It was good. I finished with good marks but I was so ready to come here.” Y/N smiled. 

“How was your school play? Did you rock the stage?” Gwil laughed before nodding. 

“Yes, Twelfth Night went off without a hitch.” He said smiling. The two continued filling each other in, just enjoying being with each other again. They walked the length of the park before stopping near a small pond. Watching a small group of ducks swim across the surface of the water. 

Gwil turned his head, watching the teen girl. “Um, Y/N. Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” She gave him an honest smile. 

“I was just wondering...um well...um…” He stammered nervously. 

“Yes?” Her smile grew, her hands waiting on her sides. 

“I was...we have been....I have been thinking.” He still stammered. A blush on his cheeks as he got a bit embarrassed. Scared she would say no.  

“Would you want to be my boyfriend?” She asked him, her hand gently taking his. Her fingers interlaced with his. His palms were a bit sweaty. 

“Really? Because I was just trying to ask you to be my girlfriend but I am nervous because you are the most beautiful girl, Y/N. I have always been thinking about you every day since I last saw you.” He said as she blushed. She giggled softly before nodding. 

“Yes. I wanted to write you in a letter but I thought it would be better to wait until I saw you. And about long distance, I think we can do it because you are the only boy I ever think about, Gwil. We can call and write. Then once I graduate, I can come to university over here and we can be together forever.” She said. 

“That sounds wonderful.” He smiles, a blush on his face, as he turned to face her. His free hand went up cupping her cheek as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her. She didn’t move for a moment before kissing him back. This was everything both had thought about for the past few weeks. It was their first kiss and both hoped it would be the first of many. Her hands laid on his chest as he kissed her still. The two broke apart and world began to spin again for them.

Gwil blushed as he pulled away, Y/N was smiling wide. Her eyes filled with so much joy and happiness. He spoke first, letting out a soft breath.  

“Wow. I have wanted to kiss you for so long, princess.” He shortened her nickname as she blushed in return.  

“Me too, well except with you, I mean. Like not saying I would kiss myself, I mean I do find myself pretty but not in a conceited way I guess. I’m just going to kiss you again.” She rambled for a moment before kissing him again. This kiss was quicker but the same amount of young love and emotion was behind it. She pulled away, grinning, her hands playing with the collar of his shirt.  

Gwil ran his hands up and down her back trying to remember everything about the outfit she was wearing. From her purple t-shirt to her beat up old checkerboard Vans to the color of her jeans. Everything was important to him in this moment because he was with her. He needed to know what to their future children what their mother was wearing the moment they first kissed. He had already remembered every little detail about the park around them.    

“Who knew Gwilym Shakespeare would be such a fantastic kisser and an even better boyfriend.” She said giggling now as his cheeks returned to a light tint of pink. He smiled back at her. Both teenagers were just happy that they had finally moved from best friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. Thinking nothing could stop them from being together forever.  

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“She had on this purple t-shirt with the New York Yankees logo on it. They’re her favorite baseball team. I kept thinking to myself how did I get this beautiful American girl to kiss me. None of my mates were going to believe when school started back up. That whole holiday we were together, we went everywhere. I mean she even met my parents and of course they loved her. I mean who wouldn’t she is strong, smart, funny,  and beautiful.” Gwil took a long sip of his scotch looking at Ben. 

“Don’t you mean was?” Ben smirked not hearing his friend deny these things.

“No, she still is but now she hates me. It doesn’t detract from the fact that I royally goofed.” He says. “I may have cheated on her at uni. And I don't mean may, I did, I did cheat on her at uni.” Gwil hung his head down in shame. 

“Everyone makes mistakes Gwil.” Ben says. “Is this the reason she has continually slammed the door when seeing you?” Gwil nodded. 

“We were eighteen and I was an idiot.” He began again.

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Age 18:

Gwilym stumbled into the first years’ dormitory drunkenly. The redheaded girl giggled who followed closely behind him. He shushed her as he spotted his roommate asleep in his bed.  Gwil’s hand in the girl’s as he pulled her into his small single room, closing the door behind him. Forgetting to lock it as she kissed him again. The kisses were sloppy and tasted of cheap scotch and beer. He pushed her back against the door as he trailed  his wet lips down her exposed neck, his fingers pushing up the camisole she wore. Her skin was hot and her cheeks were flushed as she pulled it off over her head.

Gwil, having pulled away, pulled his polo shirt over his head. Leaving the two eighteen year olds’ shirtless. He moved back cupping her cheeks, kissing her with a hast. His lips were swollen and bruised from the many kisses they shared. The alcohol had blurred his mind of his very real girlfriend of three years back in New York. Plus their fight earlier in the week about her not getting into his university had her far from his mind. He had just wanted to drink Y/N’s anger away, not completely break her trust and cheat on her. Yet here he was semi naked in his dorm room.

A few more important articles of clothing were gone and the two were in the bed. Grunts and moans filled the small dormitory room and then into the living room area. Gwil’s roommate woke up, his fist banging on the wall. 

“Fucking wanker!” Gwil yelled back, before returning to the attention of the redhead. 

His roommate huffed as he heard a knock at the main door to their quarters. He got out of his bed thinking their resident advisor was coming to tell them to quiet down. The young man moved to open the door, expecting the senior who was in charge of them. Instead a young woman stood there, barely eighteen with bags under her eyes and an old suitcase in her hands. She gave him a smile before speaking. 

“Um, hi.” She had an American accent and a voice heavy with sleep deprivation. “I am looking for Gwilym Lee. This is his dorm right?”  

“Yes this is his dorm.” He confirmed. “And you are?” 

“Oh I’m Y/N, I’m his girlfriend.”  She gave the other man a polite smile. His eyes widen in fear and regret for a moment. Before trying to mask it. 

“Oh yeah, he talks about you all the time. He’s um, in his room, that door.” He points to

the closed door knowing behind it, Gwilym was in the throws of drunken passion with a girl who was not his girlfriend. 

“Thank you. Sorry for bothering you so late but my flight just landed and I came right here from Heathrow.” She said, her tiredness fading away as she moved to the door, knocking gently before walking in. There in his bed was Gwilym with a redhead on top of him. Both in a position that Y/N knew well enough for they had done the same one the last time she had seen him. “Oh my god.” Was the only thing that left her mouth before Gwil heard her voice. His eyes moving past the girl on top of him to the girl he loved standing in the open doorway. Her Y/E/C were filled with shock. He felt himself sober up in an instance. 

“Y/N?” was all he said before she turned around and moved out of his room. Her body was clearly shaking with rage. She slammed the door behind her shaking the whole wall. A picture frame falling from it, shattering on the ground. “Y/N! Wait!” He gently pushed the red head off him and pulled on discarded sweatpants. 

His head now throbbed as the shock of seeing her. What the hell did he think he was doing? Why the hell did he do that? Jesus, he was such a fucking idiot. He chased her down the stairwell, as she struggled to pull her suitcase behind her. 

“Do not talk to me!” She shouted, her eyes drilled forward. 

“Y/N Please stop!” He called out after her. She ignored him continuing down the stairs. “Y/N, I love you!” He continued. He could see how angry she was, her whole body looked like a dangerous ticking time bomb. 

“Princess please!” This caught her attention as she reached the bottom of the stair whipping her head around. Large, hot tears ran down her face, god how he wanted to reach out and hold her. Hold her in his arms and tell her how he made a mistake. How he missed her and how he wanted her in every way. But none of that came out, all that came out was. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and slightly slurred. 

“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry! I just flew over three thousand miles to see you! To surprise you and show you that I was sorry that we fought the other day. Yet how do I find you, your dick in some other fucking girl! How long have you been cheating on me?” She snapped, her accent thick with the words that cut him like a knife. She dropped the suitcase, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. 

“I...I haven’t been...just tonight.” He said just watching her. Her chest heaved shakily, her hands curling up into fists. He could see the white of her knuckles as she squeezed her fists close to her body. 

“Oh fucking perfect timing!” She throws her hands up, letting out a single laugh with no humor behind it. Her eyes were drowning in sadness and rage as she picked up her suitcase. “I am going home. I do not want to see you again. And to think I left my sick dad to be with you cause I love you. Cause I couldn’t sleep since our fight the other day. I just wanted to show you how much you matter to me.” She said her voice no longer raised but just full of Gwil’s worst fear disappointment. He loved Y/N so much that even the thought of her this upset broke his heart, yet here she was and he had caused it.  

“Please stay. We can talk about this.” He pleaded softly but he knew her. He knew that he had lost her.

“I never want to talk to you again. We are over. We are done. Never call me, never see me, and if you think about me, don’t.” She said, her voice dripping with venom. “I hate you.” She said before moving out of the building. Gwil stood there for a moment just watching the first girl he loved and his best friend storm out of his life.

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“Mate, that was rough.” Ben said softly, patting Gwil’s shoulder. 

Gwil’s head hung looking into the dark amber liquid. It had been so long since he had thought about that night. 

“I fucked up big time. Since then I haven’t had a relationship last longer than six months, when things get too serious, I just freeze up and break it off. No one has ever made me feel the same way I felt then.” He admits. “Maybe it is because she was my first love or maybe because part of me never stopped loving her. I don’t know.” He said standing up, putting the glass down on the table. 

“Well I think you should go talk to her.” Ben said. Gwil looked at him before chuckling. 

“That’s not the end of the story, but this next part she doesn’t even know about.” He said moving to his office and getting something out of a drawer of his desk. 

“Wait, what?” Ben said. “How does she not even know about it?”

“I never told her but it was something I did for her after her dad died.” He said, moving back into the room. He held this item close to his chest as he sat back down next to Ben. “She was still 19, and I had just turned 20.”

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Age 19 and 20:

Gwil arrived in New York on a cold, deary rain soaked day. The rain that fell was cold and cut through your skin straight to the bone. It almost seemed as New York too was grieving the loss of Y/N’s father. A man Gwilym had come to respect and trust. It was his words and funds that brought Gwilym here. A few weeks earlier, a letter had arrived with a check and a few short words of wisdom. 

                 She will need you even if she says she doesn’t.

  Gwilym had gotten a plane ticket after a call from his mother confirmed his fear. Y/N’s father had passed away. He got to New York and even attended the crowded funeral, never taking his blue eyes off her. Her head down with her hair hiding her face. He knew she was crying but he also knew she was trying to be strong for her mother. He wanted so badly to go to her, to help her grieve, to tell her how he still loved her but his cowardice was too strong. He never forgave himself for cheating. 

He stayed in New York for a week, staying in a nearby hotel close to Y/N’s apartment that she now shared with her mother. It rained every day. Even if he didn’t have the courage to see her, he would let her know the sun would once again return to her life. Everyday for that full week he would leave a bouquet of sunflowers on the front step with a simple note. ‘To make you smile Y/N.’ He didn’t sign it but he hoped she would know they were from him. Sunflowers were her favorite and the yellow in the petals complimented her eyes. 

As he went on the seventh and his last day there, her mother caught him. 

“Gwilym, honey, you’ve been the one leaving Y/N the sunflowers.” She gave him a small smile. Gwil could see the sadness on her features. “They are making her smile, bringing some light back into her eyes. She thinks they are from her father but I know he wrote to you. He could never get anything past me.”

“Yes ma’am.” He said nodding, smiling back. “I didn’t want her to see me because she doesn’t need the trouble I bring her.” She shook her head.

“You are a good man Gwilym Lee. I’ll tell her.” She said hugging the young man close. He hugged her back before pulling away. Right then and there he made a choice, a difficult one. 

“No, please don’t Mrs. Y/L/N, let her think they are a gift from her father. I want her smile to be caused by him rather than by me.” He said. Mrs. Y/L/N just nodded and kissed his cheek. 

“You two will find each other again, true love always does.” She said before moving inside. “Be safe honey, tell your family I said hello and thank you for the condolences.” She left the bouquet on the ground, where they both knew Y/N would find them. 

Gwil left New York later that day and returned to London. Hoping Y/N would find him sooner rather than later.

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“That’s it, Ben. That’s our story.” Gwil downed the rest of his glass of scotch. He felt a familiar buzz of warmth in his stomach. The item from the drawer laid on his lap, a broken picture frame with a picture of a young Y/N and Gwil in it. Their cheeks touched as they tried to fit in the lens of the disposable camera. It was yellowed and aged with some water damage. “I haven’t looked at this photo in nearly ten years.” He admitted. “Not since the day it fell from my wall.” 

“It ended on such a beautiful note. You don’t even seem angry with her anymore.” Ben said. 

“I’m not angry with her. Sure she shut me out and never let me explain myself but would I do the same to her?” He said rubbing the back of his neck.

“I think you should still talk to her because her mom was right, True love always finds each other.” Ben smiled. 

Gwilym smiled for the first time in a long time at the thought of Y/N being with him again. How could he make her see all their mistakes were in the past? How could he make her see past her anger with him? He placed the picture frame on his coffee table. Getting up and before he knew it he was standing in front of her door. Knocking and hoping she answered. It was time to move past their mistakes, because that was then and this is now.

[hlupdate]

Here he comes, one of the planet’s most conspicuous young men, stepping out of the London drizzle and into a dusty suburban pub. If there was an old vinyl record player in the place it would scratch quiet. Instead, the two-dozen punters turn hushed and intent, as if a unicorn has just trotted in off the street, and nobody wants to scare it off. “That’s frickin’ Harry frickin’ Styles,” whispers a young man at the bar, “in this pub.” The pop star is asked what he wants to drink and in a voice already inclined to undertones, quietly orders a cup of tea.

A former teen star who is now 25, a happier and rockier solo artist since his boyband One Direction split a few years ago, Styles has hidden himself inside a large, swamp-green parka. He’s tall, around the 6ft mark, and carries himself with a slight stoop. If Styles could only do something about his appearance from the neck up (elfin brow, wide Joker smile, a face that’s recognisable across multiple continents) you sense he could drink in pubs like this anonymously enough. As it is, cover blown, he removes the parka. A woolly jumper beneath has a picture of the planet Saturn on it. Maybe they’ve heard of Styles there, too.

We take a seat in the corner. On nearby tables, conversations start to sputter as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot while straining to hear what Styles says. I ask him about the sheer strangeness of this and other aspects of fame. Full stadiums, swooning admirers, an excess of opportunity and cash. Why isn’t Styles an absolute ordeal of a human being by now? Keith Richards, at a comparable stage, imagined himself the pirate leader of a travelling nation-state, unbound by international law. Elton John was on vast amounts of cocaine. Meanwhile, here’s Harry, known in the music industry as a bit of a freak, medically, having maintained abnormally high levels of civility in his system. 

Styles tilts his head, flattered. There are others, he promises. “People who are successful, and still nice. It’s when you meet the people who are successful and aren’t nice, you think: What’s yer excuse? Cos I’ve met the other sort.”

Styles read Keith Richards’ autobiography a while back, and he recently finished Elton’s, too. (“Soooo much cocaine,” he marvels.) We talk for a bit about whether extreme dissolute behaviour and artistic greatness go hand in hand. Styles, who has just released his second solo album, Fine Line, the penultimate track of which is called Treat People With Kindness, has to hope not. “I just don’t think you need to be a dick to be a good artist. But, then, there are also a lot of good artists who are dicks. So. Hmm. Maybe I need to start scaring babies in supermarkets?” 

A couple of lads hustle over to offer drinks. A photo is requested; they say they’ll wait. I’m weirdly anxious about Styles’s phone, which is slung on the table in front of him. What must be the black-market value of that thing? If fans were to get hold of it, would they want to open Styles’s music app first, to listen to tracks from the new album, or rush to see his messages and calls, to find out who Styles has been flirting with late at night? The interest in his music has always run at a ratio of about 50/50 with the interest in who he is dating.

It’s a ratio Styles tries to adjust in favour of the music by being vague about his ex-partners, real and rumoured (Taylor Swift, Kendall Jenner, Parisian model Camille Rowe), diverting to discuss his songs about failed relationships. A year ago, when Styles was floating around near this pub in north London, where he lives, and California, where he tends to record, looking for inspiration for the new album, his close friend Tom Hull told him: “Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up… Let it affect you and write songs about it.” 

Styles, who writes in collaboration with Hull and producer Tyler Johnson, sounds as if he took the advice. The new album, Fine Line, is at its best when capturing late-hours moments, drunk calls, “wandering hands”, kitchen snogs. A golden-haired lover recurs. There are up tracks, down tracks, some with the trippy delirium of harpsichord-era Stones, others with the angsty Britpop swell of strings. While I listened, I couldn’t help scribbling down names, possible subjects. On the lyric “There’s a piece of you in how I dress” I wrote: maybe Kendall? In a song about a lover “way too bright for me”: surely Taylor.

Styles says he keeps to a general rule: write what comes and don’t think about it too much afterwards. The only time he worries about an individual lyric is if it risks putting an ex in a difficult position. “If a song’s about someone, is that fine? Or is that gonna get annoying for them, if people try to decipher it?” Has he ever got that judgment call wrong and taken a bollocking from an angry ex? Styles raises an eyebrow. “Maybe ask me in a month.” 

I quiz him on something I’ve often wondered about. Why are the very famous so inclined to hook up with the very famous? From the outside it looks twice the hassle, with twice the odds of ending badly. “Don’t we all do that, though?” Styles asks. “Go into things that feel relatively doomed from the start?” I ask him why he doesn’t date normals. He seems tickled: “Um. I mean, I do. I have a private life. You just don’t know about it.” 

Styles doesn’t particularly like being asked about his love life, but is amused all the same, as he is about most things. When I ask about the logistics of someone as well known as him dating someone anonymous (“Do you need to give them, like, some sort of primer?”), Styles snorts with laughter. 

“Uh-h-h. Like any conversation, I guess, it’s easier if you’re honest. But I try to let it come up when it comes up. Cos that’s a weird thing to talk about, y’know? If you’ve just started seeing someone, and you’re, like: [he adopts a throaty, mission-briefing voice] So! This is what’s gonna happen!” Styles holds out his hands: no, ta. “I don’t wanna have that conversation, man. It would be fucking weird.” 

And not very sexy, I say.

“Not sexy,” Styles says, “no.”

A quick aside about his accent, which is hard to capture in print. (“Nat sexy, no.”) After a workout in a hotel gym recently, Styles says he was taken aback (“taken abeck”) to be asked by a stranger whether he was speaking in a fake voice. He was appalled. But after so long crossing borders and time zones, living and working between England and the US, the accent has undergone a jazzy remix, and tends to get farthest from its Cheshire roots when he’s around strangers. Once Styles begins to get comfortable in the pub, the flatter, no-nonsense sounds of his youth return. Nowpe he says, for nope. Fook, for fuck.

“What the fook are they?” This was the response of his childhood pals, he remembers, back in the village of Holmes Chapel, when little Harry had the gumption to show up in the playground wearing Chelsea boots instead of the approved chunky trainers. Styles’s parents had separated when he was very young, but there is no origin-story trauma: he has always stayed close to both. His mother, Anne, would praise his singing voice in the car, and when Styles was 16 it was agreed he could audition for a singing contest on TV.

“The craziest part about the whole X Factor thing,” says Styles, who auditioned for the ITV reality show in 2010, “is that it’s so instant. The day before, you’ve never been on telly. Then suddenly…” Suddenly you’re a piece of national property. “You don’t think at the time, ‘Oh, maybe I should keep some of my personal stuff back for myself.’ Partly because, if you’re a 16-year-old who does that, you look like a jumped-up little shit. Can you imagine? ‘Sorry, actually, I’d rather not comment…’ You don’t know what to be protective of.”

By the winter of 2010, Styles was a fan favourite, a key member of One Direction, a five-piece that enjoyed enormous national exposure and gathered millions of fans before any music had been released. Cameras filmed every part of their rise. There wasn’t any time in the dark to practise, test things out, mentally brace. “We didn’t get to dip in a toe,” Styles says. “But, listen, I was a kid, all I knew was: I didn’t have to go to school any more. I thought it was fucking great.” He remembers having a lot of fun, and being well taken care of. He jokes: “Maybe it’s something I’ll have to deal with a bit later. When I wake up in my 40s and think: Arrrggh.”

In February 2012, One Direction were feted at the Brit Awards, hours before they were due to fly to the US for the first time. On TV that night they looked young, silly, chuffed – on the precipice of something huge, and with no clue at all. Their subsequent wonder-run (five platinum albums, four world tours) had its foundations in their ridiculous popularity in the States. Right away, Styles remembers, “We were fuelling a machine. Keeping the fire going.” He remembers it as a stimulating time; maybe overstimulating. “Coming out of it, when the band stopped, I realised that the thing I’d been missing, because it was all so fast paced, was human connection.”

I first met Styles in 2014, around the time the lack of human connection was starting to bite. One Direction were promoting their penultimate album and I’d been commissioned to write about themthe Guardian. Management felt the boys were so exhausted that my minutes in their presence had to be strictly counted. Inside a circle of cripplingly hot lights, while someone ran the stopwatch, we interacted as humanly as we could.

I remember how jaded the best singer in the group, Zayn Malik, seemed. (Malik was weeks away from quitting.) I also remember how flattered and bewildered the others were to be asked a few grownup questions – and not what Louis Tomlinson would later describe to me as “who’s-your-favourite-superhero… all that shit”. Styles was watchful and quiet that day. By total chance, a week later, we were in the same London cafe and he tapped my shoulder. He was having lunch with friends. “Will ya join us?” 

t struck me as a quietly classy move. I was fascinated to see him interact with mates he’d chosen for himself. Styles was dry and funny, older than his years. After lunch we said the usual things about keeping in touch, and followed each other on Twitter. I kept an eye on his updates, about leaving One Direction, releasing an impressive, self-titled debut album in 2017, playing for 36,000 people in Madison Square Garden in New York, acting in Christopher Nolan’s Oscar-nominated war movie Dunkirk. Meanwhile, I did my best to manage the mess that had been made of my own account after Styles’s Twitter follow ignited a small explosion of teenage longing in my mentions. For at least a year I received weekly, sometimes daily, pleas from people who wanted messages conveyed to “H”. Still now, every few days, fans in America, Asia and Europe follow me to “see what H sees” in their timeline. 

He has around 50 million social media followers, and with that comes the ability to ripple the internet like somebody airing a bedsheet. I’ve noticed, though, how rarely Styles directs people to support specific causes, last doing so in 2018, when he encouraged people to join a march against gun violence. Why don’t you use your influence more, I ask? “Because of dilution. Because I’d prefer, when I say something, for people to think I mean it.” He runs his fingertips across the table. “To be honest, I’m still searching for that one thing, y’know. Something I can really stand up for, and get behind, and be like: This Is My Life Fight. There’s a power to doing the one thing. You want your whole weight behind it.”

It’s one of the things that sets Styles apart, the way he puts his whole weight behind the different aspects of this strange job. If you watch footage of him as a guest host on Saturday Night Live last month, Styles plunges in, fully inhabiting the silliness of every sketch. He has good songs in his repertoire (2017’s ballad Sign Of The Times stands out), and would probably admit to some middling songs that attest to his relative inexperience as a writer. But whichever of his songs Styles performs, he goes all-in, trusting that his zest and energy will hold an audience’s attention. He approaches this interview in roughly the same spirit, not enjoying every question, fidgeting, pleading for clemency once or twice, but giving everything due consideration.

I bring up something Styles joked about earlier: the possibility of waking up in his 40s with deferred mental health problems.

“Mm,” he says

Have you thought about therapy, I ask, to get ahead of that?

“I go,” he says. “Not every week. But whenever I feel I need it. For a really long time I didn’t try therapy, because I wanted to be the guy who could say: ‘I don’t need it.’ Now I realise I was only getting in my own way.” He shrugs. “It helps.”

Lately he’s been reading a lot (Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women stood out). He’s watched a lot of Netflix (crime thrillers and music docs). He recently cried through Slave Play on Broadway. I sense in Styles, at 25, a pent-up undergraduate hunger, maybe a desire to make up for lost time. “I’ve definitely been wanting to learn stuff, try stuff,” he says. “Things I didn’t grow up around. Things I’d always been a little bit sceptical about. Like therapy, like meditation. All I need to hear is someone saying, ‘Apparently, it’s amazing’, and I’ll try it. When I was in Los Angeles once, I heard about juice cleanses. I thought, yeah, I’ll do a juice cleanse.”

How messy were the results?

“You mean…?” Styles raises an eyebrow, recalling the poos. “They were all right. I was just hungry. And bored.”

One notable feature of Styles’s solo career has been his headlong embrace of unconventional clothing. A 2017-18 tour could have been sponsored by the Dulux colour wheel: mustard tones in Sydney, shocking pink in Dallas. In a more serious sense, some of Styles’s choices have fed into an important political discussion about gendered fashion. In May, as a co-host at the Met Gala in New York, he stepped out in a sheer blouse and a pearl earring. One evening’s work challenged a lot of stubborn preconceptions about who gets to wear what.

He says: “What women wear. What men wear. For me it’s not a question of that. If I see a nice shirt and get told, ‘But it’s for ladies.’ I think: ‘Okaaaay? Doesn’t make me want to wear it less though.’ I think the moment you feel more comfortable with yourself, it all becomes a lot easier.”

What do you mean, I ask?

Styles is leaning forward, hands folded around his cup of tea. “A part of it was having, like, a big moment of self-reflection. And self-acceptance.” He has a habit, when he’s made a definitive statement, of raising his chin and nodding a little, as if to decide whether he still agrees with himself. “I think it’s a very free, and freeing, time. I think people are asking, ‘Why not?’ a lot more. Which excites me. It’s not just clothes where lines have been blurred, it’s going across so many things. I think you can relate it to music, and how genres are blurring…”

Sexuality, too, I say.

“Yep,” says Styles. “Yep.”

There’s a popular perception, I say, that you don’t define as straight. The lyrics to your songs, the clothes you choose to wear, even the sleeve of your new record – all of these things get picked apart for clues that you’re bisexual. Has anyone ever asked you though?

“Um. I guess I haaaaave been asked? But, I dunno. Why?”

You mean, why ask the question?

“Yeah, I think I do mean that. It’s not like I’m sitting on an answer, and protecting it, and holding it back. It’s not a case of: I’m not telling you cos I don’t want to tell you. It’s not: ooh this is mine and it’s not yours.”

What is it then?

“It’s: who cares? Does that make sense? It’s just: who cares?”

I suppose my only question, then, is about the stuff that looks like clue dropping. Because if you don’t want people to care, why hint? Take the album sleeve for Fine Line. With its horizontal pink and blue stripes, a splash of magenta, the design seems to gesture at the trans and bisexual pride flags. Which is great – unless the person behind it happens to be a straight dude, sprinkling LGBTQ crumbs that lead nowhere. Does that make sense?

Styles nods. “Am I sprinkling in nuggets of sexual ambiguity to try and be more interesting? No.” As for the rest, he says, “in terms of how I wanna dress, and what the album sleeve’s gonna be, I tend to make decisions in terms of collaborators I want to work with. I want things to look a certain way. Not because it makes me look gay, or it makes me look straight, or it makes me look bisexual, but because I think it looks cool. And more than that, I dunno, I just think sexuality’s something that’s fun. Honestly? I can’t say I’ve given it any more thought than that.”

In our musty corner of the pub we’ve somehow passed a couple of hours in intense discussion. We’ll lighten up, before Styles heads home, with some chat about clever films (Marriage Story), stupider viral videos (the little boy who’s just learned the word “apparently”), that favourite-superhero stuff that, after all, has its place. He talks about the curious double time scheme of a pop star’s life – those crammed 18-hour days and then the sudden empty off-time when Styles might find himself walking miles across London to buy a book, afterwards congratulating himself: “Well, that’s an hour filled.”

Before we stand up I ask if he’s minded any of my questions.

He pushes out his lips, possibly recalling them one by one, then shakes his head. “What I would say, about the whole being-asked-about-my-sexuality thing – this is a job where you might get asked. And to complain about it, to say you hate it, and still do the job, that’s just silly. You respect that someone’s gonna ask. And you hope that they respect they might not get an answer.”

I tell him I do.

���Cool.”

Styles has to find those lads who wanted a photo. He scoops his phone off the table and flicks his thumb around the screen. Lately, he says, when he messes around on his phone in an idle moment, it’s mostly to look at videos – clips that his friends have sent him, in which their kids sing along to music he’s made. “Never gets old,” Styles says, beaming.

A few years ago, when he emerged from the boyband, blinking, shattered, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Full stadiums, provocative outfits – Styles genuinely loves these things. “But I guess I’ve realised, as well,” he says, “that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Do you know what I mean?” He grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for home.

[harryandmolly]

like the back of my hand - October-December 2019 (part five)

Summary: a relationship within a collection of moments

Warnings: NSFW, language

Word count: a modest 3.8k (next one is the final, guys)

November 12th, 2019

“You’re not… I mean, it’s not that you’re scared I could hurt you, is it?”

She can’t look up at his face. Her chest hurts at just the sound of his voice so she buries her face deeper into his shoulder, clenching her jaw.

“No. The best way I can describe it is… is that it’s not that I’m afraid of you touching me, it’s that I can’t understand why you want to.”

If she were looking, she’d see he looks stricken. He just tightens his arms around her waist and blinks sleepily.

“And, I just want to clarify, it’s not like I jump out of my skin every time you touch me. It’s not like that at all. I fucking love it when you touch me. If I had it my way, you’d never stop touching me. You have no idea how badly I crave your touch.”

His smile is melancholy when she does crank her head out of the crook of his neck to face him.

“The trouble I have stems from not knowing where the touching is going and not feeling secure enough to stop you when I get nervous.”

He nods. It makes sense.

“So… how can I help you?”

“I think I just need time. Time and itty bitty baby steps.”

He hears the humor in her voice and is relieved. “Itty bitty baby steps?” he snickers.

“Yep. Like—” she interrupts herself by grabbing his hand and planting it on her left breast. His eyes fly open.

“That. That’s a baby step.”

She eyes him mischievously and grabs his other hand and does the same with her right breast so both his giant hands are resting on her chest and she’s giggling maniacally.

“There. Look at that, that’s another one. Look at the progress!”

He laughs hard and realizes his body needs it. They’ve been bogged down with their emotions, holed up in his house for days without much respite from them. He drags her on top of him, simultaneously feeling a weight lift from his body as hers replaces it. She looks happy and relaxed and he wants so much more of that, so he nods.

“I can do baby steps.”

+++++++++

December 17th, 2019

Lilly’s been spending most nights at his place and leaving for work before he gets up. He ambles around and writes while she’s away and either cooks or orders something to have ready when she gets home.

Each night, she takes him a little further along with her. He is not an inexperienced man by any means but loving her like this has brought out the enthusiastic kid in him again. He can’t remember the last time he felt his knees quake when a woman took her shirt off in his presence. He’s sure the last time his mouth went dry when his hand was guided down between the legs of his partner was the first time it ever happened. It gives him a new appreciation for all of it – for the intimacy, for the arousal, for her.

She’s being careful with herself. She doesn’t want to spook the anxious beast in her gut again, so each night they’re together, she guides him a little closer, assessing carefully as she pulls him in and they explore together.

It’s seemingly unromantic this way, she figures, from the outside. She explains it to Lauren one night when Shawn is out with friends. Though fully supportive, she just doesn’t really get it.

“It sounds like it takes a lot of planning,” Lauren notes, hesitation in her voice.

“It’s really not as carefully calculated as it sounds. It’s more like… practice. Really, really fun practice. The problem with Patrick was we were going so fast I didn’t take time to realize how I was feeling. Now, Shawn puts me in control and everything just… feels good,” Lilly explains.

It’s good enough for Lauren.

That night, Lilly and Shawn take a healthy lead off second base and when she leaves him in the morning pink-cheeked and mostly naked in his bed, she can’t fucking wait to get home and reach third.

+++++++++

December 28th, 2019

“I don’t know that I have any specific sex fantasies.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, really, the only thing I want is to make passionate love in the Cinderella Suite in the castle in Disney World,” she answers earnestly, propping her chin up on his chest to watch his reaction.

Predictably, he’s delighted by her admission, sweeping her hair back so it tickles his stomach. “I definitely should’ve guessed that.”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you tease.

“So, what, you’d be in a ball gown and I’d be calling you ‘your highness’ or…?” he prompts.

“No,” she laughs, “I mean, I hadn’t really thought about that.” A flush blooms under those freckles he loves and he knows she’s thinking about it now. He makes a mental note.

“What about your pirate thing?” he reminds her, wanting to get some specific details from her. He realizes he sounds a little desperate, but getting her off is his new favorite thing and is becoming his mission in life. If he can do it in style for extra brownie points, he wants to know how.

They’ve been fooling around comfortably for a few weeks, enjoying their baby steps system more than Shawn imagined. Now that they were trading orgasms like candy, they were both more at ease talking about it.

She buries her face in his chest unexpectedly. He giggles and starts playing with her hair again encouragingly. “What is it?” he hisses.

“I should tell you something,” she begins to confess, fluttering her eyes at him and sighing in resignation.

“Ok,” he chuckles anxiously.

“I… have read a lot of romance novels.” She says it matter-of-factly, tilting her chin up and nodding a little as if daring him to mock her.

“Like… Fifty Shades of Grey? Or the old ones with Fabio on the covers?”

“I didn’t finish Fifty Shades of Grey and neither did any other serious romance enthusiast. But yes, I happen to like some of the older classic novels. I’m not entirely proud of this, you see, because they’re kind of trashy and not good quality, but worse than that, they are not representative of how women should be treated, or beacons of healthy relationships, for that matter.”

It was like she had been planning the speech to spill out at him at the right time. He shrugs.

“I’m not judging you, babe,” he reminds her.

“No, I know, and I felt like I was keeping this weird secret from you. It feels sort of shameful because you know how I am about feminism and this feels like a crack in my armor, sort of.” She sounds a little upset and he sees the crease form between her eyebrows.

“What is it you like about them?” he asks.

After a brief pause, she gestures wistfully. “They’re just so… sweepingly romantic. Like, I’m not necessarily envious of these women or their situations because usually they’re trapped without options in one way or another, but it’s this crazy passion that seems so… inviting. There’s this one book I’ve read, god, fuck, maybe over a dozen times. It was written by a married couple in the 90s. It was this cult classic that went out of print for the longest time and only a few years ago it got republished and has this whole new life now.”

“I want to read it,” he says confidently, nodding at her. Her eyes bug out.

“No! No, you can’t read it.”

“Why not?”

“Because then you’ll see what a phony I really am with my principles and my intersectionalism and my sex positiveness.”

He laughs. “I won’t read it to judge you, I just want to know you better. C’mon, you love this book, how bad can it be?”

She winces, looking at him hesitantly, he takes one of her hands and rolls her fingers between his, insistent.

“What’s it about?” he murmurs, nodding at her.

“A young American girl during the Revolutionary War named Merry lives with her British aunt as social outcasts. Anyway, the aunt takes Merry on a trip to… New York, I think and then tricks her and says they’re moving back to England where Merry can live in a real community and get married and be a proper lady. Then the night before the boat leaves, she gets kidnapped by these pirates and winds up on their ship as a hostage and things get… complicated.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, that sounds good.”

“It’s… very dreamy. I mean, you know about my pirate thing. But Merry is held against her will and is all soft and virginal on this pirate ship and, y’know, the whole consent thing wasn’t as big a deal in the 1700s—”

“I’m not grilling you, Lil, I just want to read the book.”

“Shawn, you don’t even like to read,” she reminds him. He shrugs.

“I know, but I’m gonna try. What’s it called?” He reaches for his phone and pulls up his notes app.

She stares at him, trying to decide if there’s anything she can say to get out of this. She knows, of course, if she really felt that uncomfortable with him reading the book, she could tell him and he’d back off. But something curious stirs up in her gut at the idea of sharing this part of her with him.

“The Windflower by Laura London.”

He types it in and saves it, gratified. “Got it.” He plants a grateful and comforting kiss on her head, hauling her up his body to have her feel a little closer. She snuggles into his neck and closes her eyes. As she begins to drift off, a thought occurs to her.

“Have you ever read erotic fiction?”

“Uh… I’ve read fanfiction?”

“Smut?”

He snorts indelicately. “Yeah.”

“Ok. Don’t read it anywhere in public. Just… trust me on that.”

He smiles against her forehead, curious about this novel’s power over his level-headed, feminist-minded, incredibly sweet girlfriend.

++++++++

December 31st, 2019

“God, I’m such a miserable west coast bitch now,” Lilly sighs, stepping out of the car and folding her arms childishly. Shawn follows her with a shaky smile, nodding at the driver before he leaves them on the side of the road. Shawn tunes out the rest of Lilly’s gobsmacked reaction of her own inability to deal with the familiar New England cold as he looks up the long driveway to a slightly dilapidated Victorian home glowing with light and throbbing with sound.

She suddenly realizes he stopped listening to her some time ago. She frowns at the house. “Shawn?”

“Sorry. Nervous.”

She looks up at him and sees, yes, he really is.

They’ve flown to Boston for a hybrid occasion: New Years, Anna and Chris’s engagement and Nate’s insistence on a “family” reunion. She wasn’t originally planning on bringing Shawn until he asked to come. She assumed he’d want to do something a little more glamorous for New Years, or at least spend some time with his family. Plus, it was a little intense, this en masse meeting of her friends from college, all of whom had not been gathered like this since… 2015?

He got dressed up for the occasion, too. He’s wearing a fucking pea coat for crying out loud, how could he possibly be nervous about this?

She takes his hand and squeezes it. “You weren’t like this when you met my parents,” she reminds him.

He nods. “Because parents like me. Always have. I’m great with parents. But your friends are… I mean, there’s no guarantee.”

She’s enchanted by how worked up he is about this. Her heart’s exploding under her violet sweater as she pulls him forward, crunching their boots on the melting ice crystals wedged in the gravel driveway.

“You already know Lauren. She’s the biggest one you had to win over, anyway. Nate will try to give you a dad-style talk about your intentions. Naomi is so chill, you won’t have a problem at all. Serena’s going to talk your ear off about music. Andy… just don’t start talking politics with Andy and you’ll be fine.”

They climb the salted steps and she walks in like she belongs there and she does, so it’s up to her to help make him feel welcome as much as it is up to her friends.

The house is banging with people and music. It’s cast in a dull yellow light from old fixtures that gives it an ‘80s teen movie feel. They ditch their coats and Lilly nods at a group playing beer pong, none of whom she knows or is close to.

“Were all your college parties like this?” he yells in her ear, placing a hand on her lower back as they climb the stairs to the second floor from where the music emanates.

She shakes her head. “No, they were hotter! We crammed this many people into an apartment instead of a whole house. I saw a girl get fingered against a fridge once sophomore year. It was nuts!”

He laughs at the manic delight in her eyes. Her best friends are close and she’s feeding off their energy, she’s in her environment. He wonders if this is how she felt watching him on stage that first time in Barcelona.

They step into a big kitchen diner filled with people that Shawn mostly towers over. They both hear it before they see it. A blur of dark hair and perfect eyebrows comes shrieking into view, launching into Lilly and knocking them both against a garbage can. Shawn steadies them, feeling a little unsteady himself as Lilly’s attention is taken away.

They scream at each other unintelligibly for a few seconds before the woman composes herself and sticks a confident hand out to Shawn.

“Hi! I’m Serena. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Shawn’s memory clicks. He turns on his easy charm. “Oh hi! You’re Serena from New York, right? You work at Lincoln Center?”

She looks surprised and flattered. “Yes! Wow, Lil, did you give him flashcards?” She throws an elbow into Lilly’s side as she’s being greeted by other casual acquaintances.

“Don’t need to, he’s just a good listener,” Lilly teases, pressing a finger into Shawn’s chin dimple as he grins. He ducks his head bashfully.

“C’mon, let’s go find the boys. Nate’s going to cry, you know that right?” Serena starts, leading them through the throngs of sweaty twenty-somethings.

“I can’t believe he got everyone here. It’s a miracle. Even Mackenzie’s coming by for a few minutes.”

“Well, you can’t blame her for wanting to get the fuck out of Manhattan on New Years.”

“True. Is Hallie here?” Lilly asks.

“Hallie’s here somewhere. I don’t know what’s going on with her and Nate; he said he’d fill me in later. Also… Patrick’s here.”

Lilly doesn’t react, though Shawn watches her carefully. She nods. “I figured he would be.”

Serena throws an arm around her shoulder. “Alright, Hollywood, let’s go see your friends!”

He loves watching this. She’s totally overwhelmed with excitement at seeing these people, people who knew her and loved her during some of the most formative years of her life. He’s on the periphery for a little while as she catches up and trying to remember names as Lilly lobs them at him.

“You need any name drops, I got you,” says a voice next to him. He looks down, all the way down, at diminutive Lauren as she sidles up next to him with something pink in a Solo cup, her cheeks flushed and eyes dancing.

“Thanks, Lo,” he chuckles, nodding at her beverage, “Whatcha got there?”

“Vodka, lemonade, cranberry juice, sprite, I have no idea what else.” She stares at it suspiciously before handing it to him for a sip.

He looks around the room, locking eyes briefly with the second tallest person here, who he figures is Patrick by the way Lilly described him. He nods and smiles, looking back down again when Lilly tugs on his sleeve to introduce him to another round of grinning strangers.

A few minutes later, Naomi’s mixing drinks and they’re at the bar watching her do it with pizzazz.

“How you doin’, sport?” Lilly whisper-yells over the music, shrugging an arm around his waist possessively. He smiles at the gesture and swings his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in to kiss her head.

“I’m doing great. Your friends are funny.” He gestures with his chin toward Anna and Lauren grinding to Ignition Remix.

“And you haven’t even met her favorite yet!” says a voice behind them.

She whirls and throws herself into a portly guy of medium height with dark hair and a thick beard. He squeezes her hard, smiling warmly at Shawn over her shoulder.

“Shawn, so nice to finally meet you. I’m Nate.”

Lilly looks prouder than she has all night when they shake hands and Nate slaps him on the back welcomingly.

“I’ve heard so much about you and your rescue missions and your epic Valentine’s Days,” Shawn jokes, hoping he doesn’t sound weird or jealous. Nate beams, going crinkly around the eyes.

“We do have some good fuckin’ stories,” he says, looking at Lilly fondly. It’s Shawn’s turn to smile at that.

“Shawn, can I grab you another drink?” Nate says, turning on a dime. Shawn nods, startled. Nate hurries away.

“He’s such a southern gentleman sometimes,” Lilly chuckles, backing into Shawn’s chest as someone squeezes past them, “Born to be the perfect host.”

Shawn holds onto her hip to keep her there. She bites down a smile, her mind flashing back to a couple weeks before. They had been in bed watching Arthur Christmas and he was playing with her hair and rambling about his plans to fly to Toronto for Christmas, talking over the movie like he didn’t care that it drove her crazy. She rolled on top of him to shut him up and they made love for the first time with British elves shrieking about saving Christmas in the background.

It was perfect because it wasn’t. He wasn’t sure exactly where she was going until she reached for the condoms in his bedside table. He didn’t ask her verbally if she was sure – they just stared at each other panting for about a minute until she got impatient. It was the first time, so it wasn’t magic, it wasn’t sparkles and angels singing, it was giggling and grunting and awkward but he made her come twice with his fingers and tongue before they did it in earnest. Their baby steps completed, she felt like she had slain a dragon. They had sex every day that week to celebrate until they parted for the holiday. Tonight she fully planned to celebrate with him again since they were getting so goddamn good at it.

The night wears on in what Lilly says is a typical fashion. Several peripheral players begin to bail after the midnight countdown, during which everyone made out recklessly for a little longer than appropriate, even on New Years. Shawn’s ears were pink for an hour after. It was down to those members of the college pep band and friends that Nate specially invited, complaining they had been astray too long. They sat in a bulbous circle and played kings and then never have I ever, during which time Serena had the fabulous idea to declare that never had she ever written a song about Lilly. The group hooted and hollered as Shawn and Patrick shared an awkward glance over their sips of booze. Lilly went beet red and tossed her head back in response.

“Never have I ever had sex with a celebrity!” Anna shrieks, pointing at Lilly and Shawn across the circle. They both drink and roll their eyes in sync. Shawn picks a Cheez-it out of the box next to his feet and chucks it at Anna. She catches it in her mouth and winks at him.

“We said no targeting, Anna!” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

“But you’re such an easy target, Shawn,” Serena sighs.

“It’s true,” Lilly coughs into her drink. He looks down at her, feigning betrayal.

“You too?!”

“Never have I ever had sex with a celebrity at an awards show,” she shoots back, raising her eyebrows as the group reacts with rousing laughter and pleas of “oh god, who?!” “where?!”

Shawn wrinkles his nose and gulps down the last of his drink. “I’m so wasted,” he admits over the din. She strokes a hand up his thigh and flutters her eyelashes at him.

“Good. Want to go fuck in Nate’s bathroom?”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

+

They do fuck in Nate’s bathroom, so vigorously in fact that she rips the breast pocket of his button-up shirt and it’s hanging off him as they saunter back downstairs together, smirking in unison at the cheers of approval from her friends.

At some point around 2:45am, Patrick slides into a conversation Shawn is having with Naomi about the lyrical content on SM3. He stays long enough to offer a backhanded compliment to Shawn about the production strategy and tell him he thinks his boots are cool. Shawn’s glad he’s drunk enough not to feel the need to corner him and bark in his face about how he treated Lilly once upon a time.

Then around 4:15am, he finds himself outside with Nate embracing the cold air as a break from the heady, boozy steam of the overheated party house.

“You have the best girl in the whole world, you know,” Nate mumbles, shaking his head out toward the Boston skyline. Shawn smiles to himself.

“I know. I got really fucking lucky.”

“Lilly is the best friend in the world. She’d kill for anyone in that room and they’d do the same for her. She wasn’t… she was so good at friendship but the whole ‘love’ thing didn’t come as easily for her. I don’t know why, she’s amazing. I know you know that. I had a feeling life was saving up something special for her. I think that’s you, man.”

Shawn blames the moisture in his eyes on the gallon and a half of gin he’s sure he’s consumed by this point. He returns Nate’s firm handshake and clears his throat as they walk inside. On their way in, he bumps straight into Lilly who has his jacket in hand.

“Oh, I was just coming to bring this to you,” she says, wrinkling her brow at the look on his face. He takes the jacket from her hands and puts it down on the table, taking her face between his palms instead and planting the kiss to end all kisses on her as the room cheers again.

“I love you, Lil,” he promises. Taken aback and certainly off-kilter from the killer kiss, she nods in a daze.

“Same.”

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @crapri @smallerinfinities @blush-and-books @abigfatmess @charliesclout @ashotofblues @kitykatnumber @herecomethefeels @stillinskislydia

[punkgemjasper]

This is not a fun post...

Seriously. I need to vent some stuff out and it’s going to get pretty heavy. Like, this is purely ramblings from my brain and from someone who is sick of everything in her life, barring say...a few exceptions (my girlfriend, online friends, like 2 friends who don’t do any of the things I’m about to say) I don’t expect anyone to read this, and that isn’t the point. I just want to scream at something that my  ‘friends’ and my ‘family’ won’t see because a lot of what I have to say is about them.  You’ve been warned if you read what I have to say... 

First things first, a little bit about myself. I’m 25, a pansexual lesbian, and I’m butch. I’m a big girl, who’s been struggling with her weight since she was diagnosed with PCOS at the age of 16. I look intimidating, I look strong.  I’m pretty much the very stereotypical looking ‘Butch Lesbian’ ...I get confused with a man a LOT. I am also someone who suffers from chronic pain. I have fibromyalgia, an ongoing stomach problem that means I can’t eat properly if at all some days, depression, but the kind of depression that I’ll have for the rest of my life, on top of an anxiety disorder, and anger management problems. It makes me feel like I’m some kind of roadmap of problems.  Now, you see, there is an issue with being a butch girl. Can you figure that out? It ties in with a lot of the above problems, I have to appear strong. I have this unwritten obligation to the world that I’m not allowed to show emotions or cry because that would mean I appear weak in the eyes of everyone. It’s a problem that I’m probably not alone on honestly. So can you imagine my struggle when I need some help, a shoulder to cry on that isn’t my girlfriend, because I don’t want to put her through any more of my crying, just a friend who’s there for me.  A lot of my friends, they all advocate against suicide, they all preach about going to get help, but when someone they know is actually suffering, they don’t give a shit. The last time I spoke up about my depression, and how badly I was treated by the mental health care team at the hospital you know what I got?  My head bitten off for being appalled by the way I was being treated, like the fact I was complaining about the NHS and a supposed ‘mental health worker,’ who only wanted to berate my family, who at the time could not help me, my dad was dying from stage 4 lung and brain cancer, my mum is legally blind, neither of them can drive and I was in no state to be anywhere near trains, let alone travel the 2 hours it takes for me to get back to my parents. Hell, the reason I was at the hospital in the first place was that I was going to find a way to do some serious harm to myself. You know who calmed me down in the end and stopped me? My girlfriend. My mum. An A&E nurse had more empathy and understanding than the actual psychologist they threw at me.  Or whenever I speak up, I get ignored, or slapped down and told ‘you’re feelings are not as bad as my feelings,’ constantly, by a lot of people in my life. Like I’m not allowed to feel pain, or depressed or anything.  It was meant to be my dad’s birthday yesterday, it was hard, I didn’t bother saying anything about it, not properly, because no one would care. When I did say something, only ONE person actually made sure I was okay, a friend in America who never even knew my dad, do you know how badly I wanted to be with them? Just so I could have that needed support, a drink and a hug? Not a single one of my friends in England gave a fuck. No one thought to just ask if I was doing okay.  That’s a running theme and it’s a cycle I have to keep explaining to any professional I end up talking to...I speak up, I get slapped down, so then I don’t speak up so I don’t get slapped down...see how that can damage someone? No one knows just how bad I am because I can’t tell them just how bad I am.  Mum knows, she knows just how bad I can become but recently, she just...doesn't care as much as she used to. These days, our conversations just seem to be about her new ‘boyfriend,’ or borrowing money from me. Most of the time it is to help feed the dogs, granted, I love my dogs, even Ludo who isn’t 100% there with trusting me yet, I’d give everything I had for them, but it’s getting to the point of where I want to sit my own mother down and go through her payments like she did with me years ago, it becomes a problem you get jaded to.  So I don’t bother to say how bad my depression is because, like the above with my friends, I tend to get ignored, slapped down with the ‘me too’, or worse...told to grow up and stop being dramatic. Something I’ve been told since I was a child and this is what it has done to me.  Created an irrational fear of opening up to anyone, so when I do get bad, I explode. I explode in such a way that I hurt myself, end up having to need help from either my GP or the hospital, and then someone finally fucking realises...but even then I get no help. Or at least no the right kind of help, that I keep having to tell them.  Being talked to like I’m an idiot when I’m debating if I should throw myself in front of a bus, isn’t fun. The line, ‘Oh you’ll be fine soon, it says in your notes you do this kind of thing a lot,’ will ALWAYS haunt me. That was what someone who was a MENTAL HEALTH CARE NURSE said to me. While I was shouting at him that I didn’t need an ‘autism specialist,’ that my autism isn’t the cause of my suicidal depression, that my years of being bullied, abused and ignored was the cause, but he didn’t give a shit. Kept speaking down to me...yet again. The one who stopped me was my girlfriend.  But you see, I don’t cut myself, I don’t overdose, I don’t do any of that...I punch things, I break my knuckles, over and over again. But the frustration builds up and I lash out. It’s scary, I understand that it is, anyone who’s seen my rare selfies, can see why it’s so scary...but they can’t see past that to stop me, from doing it in the first place. ...Except for my girlfriend.  (It all keeps coming back round to her, she’s currently the only one I can confidently say, is keeping me from doing something fucking stupid. And I know for a fact she’ll read this, please don’t worry. I know you will. But I’m not going to do anything stupid, I’m not going to hurt myself. I just need to vent and I don’t want to burden you with anything more than I already have...it’s not fair. You’re also suffering from your own problems, and the last thing I was to do is make them worse, or invalidate them with any of this, like the way everyone does to me.) Now, back onto the whole...lack of support. I’m surrounded by people who have the same problems as I do, but whenever they speak up, they get bombarded with help, love and support, but when I do the same...nothing. Not even a message or a ‘here is this nice picture, hope it helps,’ nothing. Hell...I’m even being fucking isolated and almost ostracized from things I used to love doing. I KNOW this for a fact. I’ve been told about RPGs that I have expressed HUGE interest in joining, running without me, and I’m supposed to smile and go ‘haha yeah. Awesome...’ a hobby that once saved my life I’m now starting to hate because of my so-called ‘friends’.  I don’t understand why. I have a theory. But I don’t even want to go down that route, because if I do, I’m just going to lose all hope in my friends and just stop giving a fuck. Which is something I don’t want to do. 

A big part of my personality is the fact that I enjoy helping people, the look on someone face when I help them, it’s not been uncommon of me to stay up till the light of morning with someone from another country, to make sure they had someone there for them so they didn’t hurt themselves. I wanted to go into counselling to help people like myself. One day, I might still do. I want to. If I stopped giving a shit, that’s when I know something is seriously wrong with me and it’s getting to that point. The point of where I just don’t care anymore. The thought of ‘if you’re not going to help or listen to me, why the fuck should I help and listen to you?’  I feel so done with everyone, however, I’m reaching my limit with just how much I can take and it truly does feel like I’m teetering on a knife-edge. One more thing could tip me off that point and I tumble off. But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck to do about any of it. Like I said...I’m not allowed to say anything, because it’s either  My problems aren’t as bad as their problems I’m just being over dramatic  Or How dare I say such things  So I’m probably going to slip back into wearing a mask again. A false smile to hide the pain I’m going through each and every fucking day.  I could take pills, anti-depressants and the like but the side effects. Oh boy, do I get those. From the feeling even worse to being sexually fucking numb, I get them and I get them BAD and with my current health issues, being my stomach, I don’t really want to risk anything that could make that worse. I’m stuck in a bind.  See, there’s another thing that bothers me...I get more support from strangers online, as in people I chat to when I’m not a total mess, on discord, or on here, than I do with people I know outside of the internet. People who only know me as either Zorin or Punk Gem or whatever handle I use, treat me better and actually care more about me than the friends who know me as Lauren.  That speaks fucking volumes because I’m no different in my real life than I portray online you know? If anything I’m even shyer! But what the hell is going wrong in my life that people online, in other countries, apparently value me more as a person than those who live 10 minutes away.  It wouldn’t have been my dad’s birthday yesterday. He passed away on boxing day, something I’m not over, last year. I said something about it, and you want to know the ONLY person to comment on that? To make sure I was okay, so say ‘I’m here if you need me,’ an American friend. Someone who I’ve only met once, and he never even knew my dad but had a drink to his memory anyway.  It was both heartwarming and soul destroying because it’s an eye-opening experience for me. If someone that far away, who has a job, his own life, has the time to just check in on me, then what the fuck is wrong with everyone else?  If I say anything about that by the way, it’ll be ‘OH I’m sorry, I didn’t see it!’. Bullshit. I wasn’t quiet about it. It was a huge fucking post pinned to my facebook wall yesterday. Fuck you.  You also want to know what I don’t want? Being dragged into family drama that I want no fucking part of. My dad’s side of the family vs my mum. That’s all I’ll hear when I go back home for a weekend, is bitching and moaning about my dad’s family and I just have to smile, nod and agree. I don’t want any part of it, not when my head is already a mess from everything that has happened to me over two fucking years. And once again...can’t talk about that to anyone. So you see, I’m stuck in this cycle. Doomed if I speak up, doomed if I don’t.  Thank you, if you bothered to read any of this. I don’t expect anything from this, I just needed to get a lot off of my chest, and this isn’t the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot. A lot of heavier stuff that I’m keeping quiet, because what I have to say, should only be heard by a professional. 

[rather-annoying-blog]

Men and women: The stripper discrepancy.

Let’s address a fundamental question here:

Why is it okay for the media to show a male model stripping to cheering women when it’s morally unacceptable to show a women stripping to cheering men?

Why is it okay for women to objectify men but not okay for men to objectify women?

In a nutshell, that’s because very few women actually objectify men whereas very few men manage to see beyond what sexually arouses them.

As a gay man in my 30s, I got to experience both sides when living in England and I have to say there is a massive difference in how the model/stripper is treated. Maybe I have been living in Care Bears world but unlike men, I have never witnessed women calling the stripping man names such as “fucker”, “cunt”, “slag”, “whore”, “piggy”, “bastard”, “dirty little slut” et al, rather “honey”, “sweety”, “sexy daddy”.

I have never heard women say to the stripping man: “You want it, don’t you? I know you do, you dirty pig! To suck my pussy! Yeah, that’s right! All you really want is for me to sit on your face so you can shove your nose in it. Come on, baby, open your mouth and taste my juice. We both know that’s why you’re here!”

I have never seen a women crossing the lines that were clearly marked. Never have we had to even restrain a female friend because she simply decided it was better to disregard what we talked about, what the agency told us beforehand and just shoved her hand in there to grab the guy’s penis or force him to perform a sexual act right here, right now just because she pays the price. That’s rape, by the way.

With women, the ambiance is of fun. Genuine fun. Little alcohol and a lot of laughter in a mostly bright environment. Once, the room was dark but all the other couple of times, it was fully lit and we could all see each other very clearly. I never felt disgusted or disgusting - I did come over queasy. (He did not mind, though). 

The point was to, indeed, enjoy the amazing body of a man who worked hard to get it, but mostly to have a fun and to make fun of the most prudish girls by making the guy dance on them as they were cringing whilst also laughing.

My female friends would talk with the guy afterwards like a normal person after he had put his clothes back on. We would share drinks and would talk to him, he would become part of the guests until he had to go to his next job.

We would pay him for his stripping as a entertainer and we would always acknowledge his humanity. Some have thought otherwise, I am sure, but we never acted like we owned him for the time he worked for us. Of course we had his body in our head and we talked about it with him too, trying to hide the fact that we did crave for him to pound each of us until we turned blue. Nevertheless, he was never meant to feel like just a piece of worthless meat designed solely for our most unbalanced sexual fantasies, or as an morally reprehensible accessory we would share in secret as mean to bound us further.

Whereas all the abhorrent talk and insults I mentioned before is what I have always witnessed with men. With men, it’s squalid, insulting, disgusting. You always find yourself in some weird places in the badly-lit backstreets of towns, in a room where you cannot see anyone else but the girl doing what is essentially a job to pay the rent, the food for her kids or her studies. 

Do any of the men present even think about that as they shout insults? Does it even cross their mind that the moving body in front of them is living beyond these walls, has a life and has a story to tell? No. And not because they are inherent low-lives but because they drink to behave as such.

Indeed, unlike with women, there is this constant need for alcohol with men because of course behaving like beasts doesn’t come naturally to humans anymore. Education means inhibitions that will only go away with drugs.

With men, I witnessed what we have normalised as “locker room talk”: this competition in being the one who will degrade the stripping woman the most, this bounding in the secrecy of doing together something they know to be wrong or reprehensible. This “Bros before hoes” mentality where the “hoe” will pay the price of the men becoming “bros” – sports being the cesspit of this type of masculinity.

Personally, I have seen married men having to be pushed back by bouncers because they always want to put their hands where they know they mustn’t. I have seen friends of mine in long-term relationships becoming nothing but sex on legs, rubbing their crouch, if not just plainly masturbating within less than a minute after the girl started.

There are many reasons to explain the difference in behaviours and why women very rarely objectify men like that men objectify women. One of them is how men and women behave towards finding a mate to begin with, as women are told very early that finding the “right one” is an essential goal in their life. Therefore every “alpha male” is not just yet another fuck on the way to menopause but a potential father. It is still deeply carved in the psyche of society and women so competition between women will be to be the most attractive to that man, the most wife-material and that’s not by drinking, swearing and assaulting them that it will occur. Men don’t have this kind of expectations regarding women and themselves.

Actually, speaking of gender education, what I am saying is not entirely true for men are changing. In November, the Guardian published an article showing that men do not enjoy the debauchery of stag-dos anymore, a study that comes after travel agencies have noticed a change in stag-dos pattern and what men do before they get married: no stripper, it’s all about arts and wine.

What these studies show is a trend towards the end of objectification altogether as brotherhood is being redefined. We thought men enjoyed objectifying and found it acceptable, we thought and still think it is the norm within between men, as shows the question I am addressing. In fact, no matter what Mr Trump and over-60s ilks might think, do, say and pretend, it turns out, overall men actually don’t enjoy it. As men are ever more educated towards gender equality and being in touch with their feelings and the ones of others, they find objectification more and more degrading for the woman and also for themselves. They don’t enjoy being reduced to senseless beasts anymore.

Now, we are a long way from a group of men platonically inviting the female stripper to join them as a guest to their party without any ulterior motives but we are getting there in terms of mutual respect. And aside the sexual roasting of footballers and other sportsmen, I can’t help but also seeing American series like Friends which, more than a decade ago, were already showing the decline of a brotherhood and male friendship built solely around the sexual objectification of women. And as far as sisterhood is concerned, it is defined within the realm of femininity, not towards or at the direct expense of men.

In the meantime, this difference between men and women,  the difference in how they see and treat the other gender stripping, how much of their humanity they actually acknowledge, the difference is what part the other gender plays in the definition of brotherhood and sisterhood is what makes women enjoying a man stripping morally more acceptable.

[philsdrill]

Chapter 29: Passion

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 8.1k

[Uploads will be hopefully every couple of weeks! (follow @philsdrill-updates to hear when I post)]

A/N: I’ve been struggling a bit with finding the time to write with uni work lately, and I may have proofread this chapter after midnight, so feel free to tell me if I’ve missed any typos. Just a sidenote, I understand that Adam and Ethan aren’t quite the right ages for their school years, and they should probably both be a year behind. I don’t quite understand the English school system so just worked off how I was 16/17 for my last year at school. I think in England my birthday would’ve put me down a year - it’s quite confusing. Anyway, it doesn't matter much for the story, just sorry for the inaccuracy and don't take anything I’m saying about the school system as accurate, as I don’t really know it. I left school with 8 AS Level equivalents I think?

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

Ethan had been back on his medication for around ten days now and he was doing pretty good. After the first couple of days when he’d been plagued by the negative side effects, things had been steadily going uphill. He was starting to smile more, and although it would be a long time before the depression left him completely, I think we could all see a lot of improvement.

We were now working on getting him to be able to go home with Adam, back to my parents house. There were things to be done, people to tell. My mum had been up a couple of times to help sort things out, as she knew how to talk to schools and banks better than Phil and I did. There was the odd issue as she wasn’t related to Ethan, but with him being seventeen, he was old enough to be allowed to make these changes himself.

Today, all of us were heading into Ethan’s school to talk to his guidance teacher about what had happened, collect any of his work he might need and have him officially leave the school. Ethan had texted his mum beforehand to get some kind of idea of what they knew already:

Just to let you know to let you know that I’ll be moving down south to live with my soulmate and his family. I’m not going to sit my exams and I’ll take this year again next year. What have you told the school?

His mum’s reply confirmed what we all expected… that his school knew hardly anything.

You’re off ill for mental health reasons until further notice. That’s what we said at the start of the year and we haven’t said anything since then.

Having spoken with Ethan and Adam, I knew that my Mum, Phil and I would be doing the talking. We would probably go into a lot of detail to make sure everything was cleared up, and we didn’t want Ethan getting triggered by the memories.

My mum had phoned up in advance to let them know that we were coming. It probably took a bit of explaining, but they knew that a group of us would be along with Ethan to talk about the situation. My mum and Ethan did the talking at reception and soon enough we were being guided along the corridor to where we were having a meeting with Mrs Andrews, the teacher who was in charge of dealing with Ethan’s subject choices, discipline and any problems he might have with bullying, classmates, course content or mental health. She was the one who Ethan could’ve gone to about how he was feeling, if only he’d been able to put trust in her at the time.

We all joined her a small meeting room initially, until Mrs Andrews asked about what had been happening. My mum was beginning to explain, when I stopped her, not wanting Ethan to have to hear all of this.

“Mum, hold on,” I said, cutting her off, “I think Ethan should go outside while we do this. Adam, maybe go with him.”

Ethan looked over at me thankfully and the two of them got up, linked hands effortlessly and left the room.

“So, Dan, why is it better for Ethan not to be here?” Mrs Andrews asked, sounding a bit puzzled.

“Okay, you were told in January that he was off for mental health reasons, right?” I asked, wanting to confirm this before we started off.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Okay,” I said, deciding that I should just get straight to what had happened and then backtrack to why, “He attempted suicide a few hours into the new year. He was and still is suffering from severe depression. I feel like having him hear this could trigger dark thoughts and make him want to harm himself.”

“Right,” the teacher nodded, suddenly looking a lot more serious, grabbing her notepad and scribbling something down.

“Shall we go from the beginning?” I asked rhetorically, knowing she should hear the entire story.

Between, Phil, my Mum and I, we explained things from the beginning, how Ethan knew even before he met his soulmate that his parents would disown him, for his soulmate was male too. Quite how long he’d been suffering from symptoms of depression, we didn’t know, but it was steadily getting worse towards the end of the year. My mum and I explained how we had heard about all of this through Adam and seen his reaction to Ethan trying to take his life.

It was another month before they met, in which Ethan had spent some time in hospital, then returned home where he ended up partaking in a lot of self harm. They got to spend a few days together which was good for them, but Ethan had to go home and keep it all a secret, which was hard for him. Two weeks later he accidentally let it slip to his dad; he got badly beaten up and kicked out and has been staying with me and Phil for two weeks now. He’s now taking antidepressants which I think are helping, but he’s still not stable.

“What’s your plan with him?” Mrs Andrews asked, after making some more notes, “He’s too old to go into a children’s home but it sounds like he needs looking after… a mental ward?”

“No, no, he’s spent his time there,” I said, “He’s going to move down south to live with Adam and our parents. He’s not being away from Adam now. We think that’s what’s best for him. It gives him a fairly stable family environment and his soulmate, which is two things he’s been lacking recently.”

“Yes, I can see that being good for him, but it could also have been good for him to continue living in an area he knows well,” she commented.

“We’ve thought about this. Phil and I are the only people he knows around here and we can’t support him permanently. Also Adam will be sitting his AS Level exams in June and he can’t be changing schools at this stage in the year,” I explained.

“And Ethan can?” she asked, sounding mildly horrified, “He’s had enough disruption as it is.”

“He’ll be going back to school in September and doing his A-Levels next year instead,” I explained, “He’s missed too much this year, would you not agree?”

“He’s always been a clever boy, I think he could catch up and still do well,” she said, “But if you think that’s what’s best for him, then that’s fine.”

“If he was suddenly cured of his depression right now then maybe he could, but it doesn’t work like that. I have no doubt he’s still going to be struggling with his mental health for a while,” I explained, “I think a few months with no stress and just getting used to his new surroundings will be good for him.”

“Okay,” Mrs Andrews said almost cheerily, that tone of voice teachers use to change the subject, “Are we taking him off the system today then, have him officially leave?”

“Yes, that’s the plan,” I nodded, “Is that possible?”

“It should be. I’ll need to go and talk with his year head, but she’s free this afternoon so that should be possible,” she nodded, “Would you like some tea or coffee while I go and see if she’s available?”

“Can Ethan go around his teachers and collect his work, as it might be useful for him next year?” I asked, knowing that was something he wanted to do.

“Yes, that’ll be fine. Will one of you go with him, just so he’s not alone?” she asked.

“Adam probably will,” Phil said, “Or do you want one of us to go too?”

“Could you? I’m just concerned in case he bumps into anyone in his year who might ask too many questions,” she explained, “You know what teenagers can be like.”

“I’ll go?” Phil volunteered, “This used to be my school, so I’m interested to see if it's changed much in six or seven years.”

Phil left the room at the same time as Mrs Andrews, off to join Adam and Ethan and head around the school to collect Ethan’s work. Mrs Andrews returned with the stuff to make coffee for both me and my mum, apologising that she couldn’t find any teabags.

My mum took her up on the offer, but I politely declined, “Sorry, but I can’t drink coffee.”

Mrs Andrews made the coffee for my mum, gave me a cup of water, then left to go and find Ethan’s year head.

“Why is it you don’t take coffee again? It makes you shaky or something?” My mum asked, clearly trying to recall whatever excuse I’d given when I was down to see her at new year.

“Umm kind of,” I said, now willing to tell her a bit more about my anxiety, “You know I’m taking medication for anxiety… it’s connected to that. Like the caffeine can raise my anxiety levels, which sometimes I can deal with, but I’ve had panic attacks because of it before.”

“Ahh,” my mum mumbled, nodding as she tried to understand, “How much does this affect you? You didn’t seem very willing to talk about it at new year.”

“I’ve had my medication dose upped since then, so I’m doing better. I was having like one or two panic attacks a week before that, which wasn’t great, but I haven’t had many in the last couple of weeks,” I explained.

“You said you do breathing exercises to help an attack, right?” she asked, again wanting to confirm what I’d previously told her.

“Yup,” I nodded, “But I have a second medication that I take that helps me calm down a lot quicker. As well as the breathing, I shake and sometimes sweat and my heart beats really fast. Beta-blockers, they’re technically a heart medicine but the doctor prescribed me them for my anxiety attacks and they help so much.”

At this, I brought the tub out of my coat pocket to show her, “I carry them everywhere with me. I’ve had anxiety attacks twice where I’ve left them at home, and neither of those were pretty.”

“I’m so proud of you,” my mum said suddenly, nodding, “This can’t be easy, but you’ve done the right thing going to the doctor and getting the help you can.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not quite sure how to react to that, “I see a therapist too, just so you know. That helps, because although I can talk to Phil about things, he’s not a professional. I usually go alone, although Phil does always offer to come with me if I need the support. I’ve only taken him up on that once, but that was two days after an appointment where I had a really big panic attack in her office and Phil had to bring my medication and take me home.”

“How does Ethan’s medication work then? Is that something he always needs to carry with him?” my mum asked.

“No, he just needs to take it every morning and that’s him for the day. If he was going away for the night, then yes, he’d need to take it with him, but not other than that,” I explained, “It’s the same medication that I take every day for my anxiety; there’s connections between anxiety and depression so antidepressants can treat both.”

“Ethan doesn’t have the beta blockers too, then?” she asked, wanting to confirm.

“No, he doesn’t have panic attacks, well not generally,” I confirmed, “He may have had one or two things that could probably be classified as one, so I would keep an eye on him and talk to me if you’re worried about anything.”

Mrs Andrews eventually returned and put an abrupt end to our conversation. She had been to speak to Ethan’s year head and returned with a few bits of paperwork.

“We’ll just this form filled out for the admin, but that’s all that really needs to be done,” she explained, handing over the form to me and my mum, “You can maybe make a start on it, fill in the details of the school he’s transferring to.”

My mum took the form and pulled a pen out of her handbag to start filling it in. She knew the school’s details off the top of her head, with both me and Adam having gone there. I took out my phone and texted Phil to see how the work collecting was going.

--

Phil’s POV:

I knew my way around the school reasonably well, as this had been my school as a teenager. It had changed a little in the six or seven years since I left, but I’m sure some of the work pinned to the walls had been there when I left.

Ethan was going to see his English, Maths, Psychology and Art teachers. The first three of these, he just popped into a classroom and was back out in under two minutes, getting the job done quickly and efficiently. He just explained to them that he was moving and would like his work as he would be sitting his A-Levels next year instead.

His art teacher was a bit of a different story. He’d made the comment as we approached the classroom that this might be a bit of a longer discussion as he was on quite good terms with him. Adam and I waited outside again, but this time we could hear all of what he said as the door was wedged open.

“Ethan! I haven’t seen you in a while,” the teacher explained, his voice full of excitement, “Are you coming back?”

“No, I’m moving. I’m just here to sort things out with the school and get my work,” Ethan explained.

“Where are you moving to?” he asked.

“Near Reading, to be with my soulmate,” Ethan explained, “I met him about a month ago.”

“Your soulmate! Nice; I don’t think there’s many people in your year who have met theirs yet,” the teacher commented.

“Yeah, I’m a telepathic bond type, which generally means meeting younger,” Ethan explained, probably unsure if this was common knowledge.

“Nice, I have a skin connection with mine; we’re both artists and draw on ourselves a lot so that gave it away eventually,” Ethan’s teacher told him, “I’ve always wondered what having a telepathic bond would be like?”

“It can be challenging, Adam would say that anyway,” Ethan commented, then realised he hadn’t introduced Adam, “Adam’s my soulmate.”

“What’s he like? Is he what you were expecting or did you just kind of know what he was like already?” the teacher asked.

“Kind of, I knew he was a boy, and I had a strong sense of brown hair and eyes,” Ethan explained, “He’s just outside actually. Want to meet him?”

A couple of moments later, Ethan appeared at the door, “Want to meet Mr Davidson?”

He initially pointed this question at Adam, but then nodded at me, “You too, Phil.”

“Mr Davidson,” I mumbled, now realising why his voice had sounded strangely familiar; he was same teacher I’d had for my A-Level art.

“Phil?” Ethan said, Adam having followed him in the door, but me still hanging around in the hallway.

“He’s my old teacher,” I said, hoping that my realisation explained my delay.

“Nice,” Ethan said, the three of us now heading properly into the room.

“This is Adam,” Ethan said, putting his arm around Adam’s waist for a moment.

“And this is Phil, Adam’s brother’s soulmate,” he explained, “I’ve been living with him for the last two weeks.”

“Phil…” My Davidson mused, “...Lester. I remember you.”

I nodded, smiling, but not saying much as this was really about Ethan. He exchanged a few words with both me and Adam, before getting back to Ethan.

“So Ethan, any idea what you’re doing next year yet? What you want to do with your life? Have you applied for uni?” Mr Davidson asked.

“No, I’m going to redo this school year next year,” Ethan explained, “As for my life, I’m not really sure. I wasn’t planning to be around…”

Ethan trailed off, thinking for a moment, “I’ll be honest with you about where I’ve been for the last two months… I attempted suicide at the start of the year.”

Mr Davidson’s expression slowly changed to one of shock and Adam looked rather surprised that he was actually talking about this. I could see that Adam was now on red alert for Ethan breaking down, because it didn’t usually end too well when he chose to bring this up. He reached out for Ethan’s hands, which were anxiously balled together in front of him, encouraged them apart, then held one of them in his own.

“I still don’t really have my life planned out other than being with Adam,” Ethan explained, a little shakily, “I like art; I think out of all my subjects it was what I was most passionate about, but I’ve pretty much lost interest in everything.”

I watched Adam squeeze Ethan’s hand and shuffle a little closer to him. He was handling this well, but it still wasn’t easy for him to talk about it

“Awwhh Ethan, were you feeling like this long?” Mr Davidson asked, “You should’ve spoken to someone.”

“I know, but it wasn’t that easy. My dad’s really homophobic and I knew I’d be out on the streets the moment he found out my soulmate was a guy,” Ethan explained, “He knows now… which is why I’m moving to live with Adam. I’ve been staying with Adam’s brother and Phil for two weeks as they live nearby.”

“Are things a bit better now then?” Mr Davidson, asked, his voice still full of concern.

“I guess so,” Ethan said, sounding unsure, “Like I’ve gained Adam, but I’ve lost my family and although they maybe weren’t the best with all of their views, they were all I’ve known.”

Ethan was sounding rather choked up as he said this. Adam seemed to know exactly when he was about to start crying and pulled Ethan into a hug the moment he finished the sentence.

Mr Davidson and I looked at each other, both knowing we should give them a moment of peace. I moved around them to speak to him; I could get Ethan’s work from him and that would let us leave sooner.

I asked Mr Davidson for Ethan’s work. He got up, walked across the classroom to some large drawers and pulled two folders out of one.

“Here you go,” he said passing them to me, “He’s very talented; I have no doubt he’ll do well in art. Hopefully these’ll give him a head start and he’ll just be able to pick up where he left off, next year.”

“Yes,” I nodded, studying the artwork in the top of the folder. I couldn’t see much of the work, but there were a couple of very striking portraits on top, in a dark color scheme.

I carefully held onto the two folders of work, making sure that they were up the right way so that the contents didn’t spill out onto the floor. Once Ethan had collected himself a little bit, we got going, him saying a slightly tearful goodbye to his art teacher as we headed out the door. Adam held his hand as we walked through the corridors and headed back downstairs; it had only been a little breakdown, but Ethan was clearly shaken up by what he had told his art teacher and there could potentially be more tears to come.

Adam looked deep in thought and I was going to bet he was half in Ethan’s head, trying to calm his mind a little bit. We arrived back at the room where Dan and his mum were talking to Ethan’s guidance teacher. I knocked and the three of us walked in, each taking a seat.

“Ethan, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Mrs Andrews asked, not really giving him long enough to get settled.

Ethan didn’t react immediately, then after a couple of seconds looked up, looking rather dazed, then panickedly at Adam.

“Maybe not right now,” Adam said putting an arm around Ethan and mumbling something into his ear, “We’re going back out into the corridor for two minutes, but we’ll be back.”

With there being a slot window in the door, I was able to see what was going on. Adam guided Ethan across the corridor and they sat down on the blue comfy seats that were right opposite the door. Adam wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist and lightly rested his head on his shoulder, mumbling things to him. I didn’t know what Adam was saying, but I hoped it was helping.

I learnt that Dan and his mum had been busy filling in some forms for Ethan while we’d been gone. It turned out that all Mrs Andrews really needed from him was to know if there was anything in his locker, and have him sign the forms.

I looked through the door again and saw Ethan turning into Adam for a hug, visibly inhaling deeply and relaxing a bit.

“Dan, I think if one of us goes out there and lets him know that’s all, he’ll probably be okay with it,” I said, realising that Ethan probably assumed the worst when she said she had a couple of questions.

“I’ll do it,” Dan volunteered, getting up and opening the door.

“You guys doing okay?” Dan asked softly, “All she wants to ask is if you have anything in your locker and if you can sign a couple of forms?”

“Okay,” Ethan nodded a little timidly, “I can do that.”

The pair of them got up, Adam instinctively resting his hand on the small of Ethan’s back as they walked the few steps into the room. They joined us at the table and Dan slid the forms towards Ethan, Mrs Andrews pointing out where he needed to sign.

Ethan pushed up his sleeve, picked up the pen and signed his name. His emotional state had made it a little shaky, but I’m sure it would suffice. He plopped the pen back down on the table and relaxed his arm in front of him. They didn’t really catch my eye anymore, but I noticed Mrs Andrews staring at his scars. Ethan must’ve noticed this too, as a few seconds later, he tugged his sleeve back down and put both of his arms under the table.

There was a moment or two of silence as Mrs Andrews realised she’d maybe crossed a line, then she changed the subject and acted as if nothing had happened, “So, do you have anything in your locker? We can give you the spare key to empty it, but don’t worry about returning your copy of the key; we’ll get a new one made.”

Ethan let her know that he probably did have things in his locker, so Mrs Andrews went to get the spare key. We all accompanied him to empty it, as we would be passing on the way out anyway. The contents of his locker were a smelly PE kit, a maths textbook and a notebook which he told us was a journal type thing he kept for a while.

The locker now empty, he handed the key and the maths textbook over to Mrs Andrews, who assured him she would return it to his maths teacher. We exchanged a few goodbyes and Mrs Andrews wished Ethan good luck with his future, and with that, we left. Ethan had a note of her email address in case his new school needed any more information and he had said he would try and email her next year with his results.

We headed to the cars, Dan’s mum to her own and the rest of us to mine. We loaded Ethan’s work into the boot, then got into the car ourselves. Ethan kept ahold of the journal from his locker, and it was as he drove back that he explained what it was about.

“This journal was one of the last things I gave up on. Writing my thoughts down actually kept me sane for a while. I can’t really remember why it was in my locker, but I think I forgot to take it home when I left for the Christmas holidays,” Ethan explained, “There’s a lot in here and I don’t really want to reread it myself yet, but Adam, it might join up some of the dots for you.”

Adam took the book from Ethan and held onto it, quietly thinking, “I think we should go through this together when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” Ethan nodded, “It might be a while before I’m ready, but if that’s what you want to do.”

Halfway home, Adam asked if it would be okay for him to move into the middle seat. I pulled over and stopped the car to let him move safely and without the seatbelt sounder going off. Nothing was really wrong, just Ethan was feeling a little emotional about putting his old school behind him, and wanted a hug.

The rest of the journey home, they were cuddled up together and Ethan looked a lot more comfortable. Adam had put his old journal out of the way on the far seat. It was there, it’s presence was felt, but they didn’t need to do anything about it just yet.

--

That afternoon, Dan’s mum headed home. As far as we knew, everything was sorted for Ethan to move, which would be happening in just over a week. Ethan had been in contact with his mum a little, and would maybe be able to get into his house to get some of his stuff. It wasn’t organised yet, as his Dad not wanting to see him complicated matters, but his mum wanted him to have his things and get the chance to say goodbye properly.

Dan and Adam went down to the car park to see their mum off; meanwhile Ethan and I stayed in the warmth of the flat and watched from the living room window. Adam and Dan both hugged her goodbye. It would be just over a week before they saw her again, which for Dan would be no problem, but Adam wasn’t really used to being away from her for long.

“I kinda miss my mum,” Ethan admitted, bringing my attention back to him and the few tears that were starting to spill.

“Let’s go sit down,” I said softly, putting a hand on his back and guiding him over to the sofas.

I passed him a few tissues and sat next to him, facing into him a little as he wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

“Are you okay? D’you want to talk about her at all?” I asked, wondering if it would help for him to talk or if he really just needed some alone time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “It’s just been getting to me a bit with their mum here, that I don’t have that in my life anymore… and there’s little things, like she baked bread a lot and I’m so used to the smell of bread everywhere and the little homemade rolls and things…”

Ethan trailed off, rubbing his hands over his eyes to push a few more tears away.

“I don’t know if it would help, but I could make bread if you want,” I offered, not knowing whether that would make him happy or just make him miss his mum more.

“I’m sure you make great bread and all, but it probably won’t be be same,” Ethan said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It might make me more sad than happy.”

“I get that,” I said, passing him a couple more tissues.

I got up to look out the window and see whether Dan’s mum had left yet. It turned out she was just leaving, her pulling out of the car park and Dan and Adam waving from the side.

“That’s her driving away now,” I told Ethan, “Adam’ll be back up soon.”

“I don’t really want him to see this,” Ethan said, blowing his nose determinedly and dabbing a bit at his eyes, “I’ve cried in front of him enough today.”

“Ethan, you should be able to cry in front of him as much as you need,” I said, realising he was trying to bottle it up, “He’s your soulmate, he’s always gonna be here for you.”

“Mmm,” Ethan mumbled, glancing at a mirror he could probably just catch his reflection in.

“And he’ll have felt it anyway,” I reminded him, “I think you should at least acknowledge how you’re feeling in front of him.”

“I guess. I just don’t want him to make a fuss,” Ethan explained, ”It’s nothing; I just maybe need a hug, that’s all.”

“Just let him know why you were sad but all you want is a hug and no fuss,” I suggested, “He’ll respect that.”

When Adam came in, he immediately gravitated towards Ethan because he knew something was up.

“Ethan,” he said, speaking really softly, “What’s up?”

“Please don't make a fuss, but I just miss my mum a bit,” Ethan admitted, turning a little bit pink.

“That’s okay…” Ada, nodded, “D’you want to talk about it?”

“I already did to Phil but there’s not much to say,” Ethan explained, “Can I just get a hug?”

“Of course,” Adam said, settling onto the sofa next to Ethan and putting his arms around him, pulling him into his lap to hold him close.

I moved to the kitchen to start getting some things out for dinner, but half listened in, hearing as Adam gradually picked up a conversation, then slowly made it funny to make Ethan feel better. They were doing well, getting to know each other really well now and starting to grow together too.

--

Dan’s POV:

Dinner had been eaten, it was now getting towards nine o’clock and the four of us were watching a film in the living room. Phil and I were quite content, cuddled up together on one sofa. Ethan and Adam had been doing similar on the other one, with Ethan pretty much sat in Adam’s lap, but I was starting to sense that there was something more going on.

They were whispering things to each other, so quiet that neither Phil nor I would be able to hear what they were saying, and Adam seemed to be moving his hands around under the blanket that was spread across Ethan’s lap. Ethan was reacting to some of these movements, in a way which told me that Adam’s hands were somewhere very private. They were trying to be subtle about what they were doing, but they were both a little red in the face and I could tell.

“Guys,” I spoke up, moving from a sidelong glance to looking at them properly, “D’you maybe want to go to your room for a bit of privacy?”

Adam immediately turned bright red, “Yeah, was just thinking about doing that.”

The pair of them got up to go, Ethan taking the blanket with him, trying to retain some of his modesty by shielding his crotch from view. Adam, however, was visibly hard, the tent in his jeans very obvious now that he no longer had Ethan sitting in front of him.

Once they were in their room with the door shut behind them, Phil turned to me, “D’you think they’re going to…”

“...do something?” I finished the question Phil had left hanging, “Probably. Can’t say what as I don’t know how comfortable they are with each other yet, but we’ll just leave them be until the morning to give them the privacy they need.”

Phil and I continued to watch the TV for a bit, which just about drowned out any noises they were making. There might have been the odd sound, but they were keeping quiet enough that it equally could’ve been the neighbours.

“You wanting to do anything particularly later?” Phil asked, nuzzling his face into my neck and leaving a couple of kisses there.

“I don’t mind,” I said, warmly, “I’m quite happy just cuddling and stuff; this is nice and cosy, but equally I’m down for doing something in the bedroom if you want.”

“Hmm, I could go some nice relaxed love making,” Phil mused, “But let’s see how we feel later.”

“Yeah, good plan,” I agreed, leaning in to kiss Phil.

--

Our cosy cuddling session came to an abrupt end just after ten o’clock. It took a few seconds for us to register the wailing noise that ripped through the otherwise fairly quiet flat. It was the fire alarm. Phil seemed reasonably calm and collected, getting up and telling me to go and put my shoes on, grab a coat and start heading down the stairs when I was ready.

Phil knocked on Adam and Ethan’s door, “Guys, that’s the fire alarm, I hope you’re not in the middle anything, but you need to make sure you’ve got some clothes on and get out here asap.”

“Yeah, we’re on it,” Adam replied, “We’ll be out in like thirty seconds.”

I put my shoes on, grabbed a coat and as a last minute thought, grabbed my anxiety medicine. The alarm had sparked panic in me, but I was just doing my best to focus on getting myself outside… well and make sure Phil was coming too.

“You take this,” Phil said, handing me the blanket we had been cuddling with on the sofa, “Get yourself outside and I’ll be right down, okay.”

“Okay,” I said, taking the blanket from Phil and making my way to our front door.

As I opened the door to leave the flat, Adam and Ethan burst out of their room in an assortment of mismatched clothes. Adam had on the t-shirt Ethan was wearing earlier, but backwards and Ethan was wearing his pyjama top.

“Right, c’mon everyone,” I said, deciding they were close enough behind me to warrant me waiting and holding the door open.

I knew it could be nothing, like someone had burnt some toast or there was a fault in one of the detectors, but I couldn’t get past the idea that it could be a big building fire, that we could die if we didn’t get out of the place quickly. With that in mind, I didn’t want to leave Phil, even if he was just right behind me.

With everyone together, we let the door swing shut behind us and hurried down the stairs, seeing a few other people from our building further down the stair ahead of us. We all grouped together in the car park, where everyone was trying to figure out what was going on. No one seemed to have any idea what was happening, but a number of the longer standing residents assured us that the fire brigade would be on their way.

Phil and I stood together with our blanket around us and fairly quickly Ethan and Adam started hugging to preserve body heat. I was still feeling a little panicky, but so far I was managing to keep the feeling at bay and not let if affect me.

When the fire brigade arrived, my panic dissipated a little, knowing the situation was now in safe hands. Everyone I loved was safe and the fire brigade were going to stop my home burning down. I felt safe with Phil’s arm around me and the knowledge that everything would be okay.

With things starting to calm down inside my head, I was able to take in more of what was going on around me. Some people were outside in their pyjamas, in their slippers and flip-flops and other clothing you might not normally wear outside. Some people looked like they’d just been woken up by the alarm, but everyone looked tired of being out here in the cold.

My gaze returned to Adam, Ethan and Phil, in particular Ethan. He looked wrecked and his legs were shaking slightly, even though he was tightly latched onto Adam. It seemed that Adam was pretty much holding him up, despite looking tired himself.

A few moments later, Ethan admitted that there was something wrong, “Adam, I feel a bit faint.”

At this, Adam adjusted his grip on Ethan so both of his arms were around his torso, probably so he could catch him if he passed out.

“Right, let’s sit down,” Adam said, giving Ethan the encouragement he needed to sit down on the ground.

Adam sat down with Ethan, letting himself be used as a headrest whilst he enveloped Ethan in a hug, “Sit still and maybe bring your head down onto your lap if everything is spinning?”

Ethan remained still, but didn’t move his head, “I’m just gonna stay here for a bit - don’t want to move yet.”

“Okay,” Adam nodded, “I’ll give you some peace, but speak up if you feel any worse.”

“Ethan are you cold?” I said, crouching down a little to get more on his level.

“A bit, yeah,” he nodded into Adam’s shoulder.

“Okay,” I said, glancing at Phil for approval, then taking the blanket off our shoulders and draping it around Ethan’s, “I think you need this the most at the moment. You’re only gonna get colder now you’re sat on the ground.”

I stood up straight again and leaned into Phil to keep warm. I hoped that Ethan would be okay now; he still looked pale and shaky, but Adam was certainly doing his best to keep him cosy, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back. Phil and I weren’t really hugging, but we had made the mutual decision to press up together to preserve body heat. It was amazing, as Phil probably wasn’t much warmer than me, but he just felt so warm and cosy that I didn’t feel like I would ever want to split apart from him.

One fireman came out of the building to let us know what had happened. It turned out there had been a fire in a kitchen on the fourth floor due to an electrical fault in a kitchen appliance, but it had been caught quickly enough that they were able to to put it out and there was nothing to worry about. It would still be a bit longer before we were allowed back inside, however, as they needed to remove the faulty electrical appliance that caused the fire, some damaged appliances from that kitchen and check the smoke levels in other parts of the building. An emergency electrician was on his way to check that the wiring hadn’t been damaged and was still safe to use throughout the building.

The next half hour consisted of the firemen bringing some rather burnt things out of the building, the emergency electrician arriving and heading inside to do his tests and everyone getting even colder than they already were. Ethan had started to shiver quite violently, so Adam had pulled him into his lap, unzipped his own jacket so he could pull the sides of it around Ethan, bringing him closer into his chest.

Once all the burnt appliances were removed and the safety tests carried out, we were called up by flat and allowed back into the building. Ethan and Adam got to their feet as the second flat was called, knowing that we would be soon.

Ethan got up slightly ahead of Adam and as soon as he was on his feet, he looked like he was having a dizzy spell. I knew all about getting up too fast, so I held onto him while he got his bearings and while Adam finished standing up. After a brief few words with one of the firemen, we all made our way inside and up the stairs, everyone looking out for Ethan and making sure he got back to the flat safely.

The stairwell had smelt a bit smoky, but thankfully the smell didn’t reach inside our flat. Once inside, I headed with Ethan and Adam along to their room and I sent Phil to get an extra blanket or two. Ethan removed the pair of jeans he had rather hastily thrown on, with no reservations about me being there, despite the fact he was butt-naked underneath them. Adam laughed and pulled the blanket down a bit to save the rest of his dignity, before encouraging him into bed.

Phil arrived with a couple of extra blankets, then suggested that Ethan might like a hot drink. Ethan rejected the offer, yawning sleepily and saying that he was alright, he’d just like to sleep. He was still shivering a bit, but the warmth of being inside, along with the duvet and three blankets, was gradually warming him up.

Adam left the room with me and Phil, as we headed to the living room, probably to talk about what had happened. The air in the living room was a lot clearer; Adam and Ethan’s room was a bit muggy and smelt like sex, but I wasn’t going to bring that up.

“I think I tired him out a bit and he just needed to sleep,” Adam said, referring to how Ethan had been feeling a bit faint.

“I get that,” I nodded, thinking about how I would’ve felt if it had happened just after I’d been doing something with Phil.

“We… uhh… we tried out fingering and I think it was a lot for him,” Adam explained, turning a bit red, “He hadn’t really had time to recover.”

“Yeah, it can be really intense, and especially being his first time too,” I nodded, fully understanding why Ethan was tired.

“You should get to bed early too,” Phil said to Adam, “I don’t need to know what all you did, but you’re probably more tired than you think… and you want to be there for him in the morning.”

“Mmm, I guess,” Adam nodded, “Well there’s not much else for me to do, so I might as well. That’ll let you guys have some time to yourselves too.”

While it could’ve been taken in the wrong way, I sensed there was nothing behind Adam’s last statement other than some underlying feeling that he was third-wheeling. He didn’t need to know that we might actually get up to something later; I didn’t feel comfortable about him knowing that, at least before it happened. Phil and I wished Adam a goodnight, then he disappeared off along the corridor to get himself ready for bed.

--

Phil and I got ready for bed, and we were both cuddled up under the duvet before we even discussed doing anything more intimate. I think it was still on both of our minds, we were just making sure everything else was dealt with first.

It was Phil who brought it up eventually, “How're you feeling about doing something?”

“Yeah, I get what you meant earlier. I'm up for it,” I told him, “But like slow and kinda relaxed, yeah?”

“Yup, sounds perfect,” Phil nodded, snuggling a bit closer and slipping his fingers under my pyjama top, “Let's get the these off.”

I let Phil undress me, making sure that his clothing came off at a similar place. Soon enough, we were both naked together, and I could feel every inch of Phil pressed up against me.

Phil took the lead, as usual, getting things as heated as he could, while still keeping it relaxed. It was less making out and hard fast movements, and more slow passionate kisses with gentle grinding.

I didn't notice Phil getting the lube until I heard the sound of the bottle opening. It was very dark in our room as we didn't even have the lamps on, but we knew each other well enough now that doing it in the dark was just a nice sensory experience rather than a challenge.

“You ready?” Phil asked, nudging my legs apart and bringing a lube-coated finger up to my hole.

“Yup,” I nodded, preparing myself for Phil’s finger; we hadn’t exactly done this much recently so I was quite tight.

Phil stretched me slowly and carefully, but still made it feel good by brushing against my prostate every so often. He was careful not to get me too far gone though, we both wanted to save ourselves for when Phil was inside me.

When I was ready, and boy was I ready, Phil squeezed some more lube onto his hand, used it to coat his dick and lined himself up, using his hand to guide his penis through the darkness to my entrance.

As Phil pushed himself in, the sensations were so intense, it was like our first time all over again. As we couldn’t see from the darkness, it seemed all of our other senses were amplified. It took me a little time to get used to the stretch of Phil filling me up, but I let him know when I was ready for him to move. As we’d agreed, Phil moved slowly, but it wasn’t long before we found a good rhythm and the extra time we had allowed us to things to make it that little bit better. Phil’s mouth found mine and we kissed as he slid in and out of me, the passion making it more about love than lust. Okay, it was nice to have a quick fuck with him now and then, but slow loving sex with my soulmate meant so much more.

When I came, with Phil meeting his own release inside of me, it was good, so good. I unleashed a moan without a care in the world and let it tear through me, my body trembling as my dick spilt its load into Phil’s hand and across my stomach. My orgasm lasted longer than Phil’s, the prostate stimulation always making it more intense. He helped me through it though, giving me the friction I needed and continuing to move against my prostate whilst I needed it.

Phil pulled out and I sank back into the bed, exhausted, physically spent. Phil cuddled with me for a couple of minutes while we both caught our breath, then he excused himself to go and get something to clean up. He returned with some wipes, using them to collect up the white stickiness from my stomach.

“There,” Phil said, gently wiping the last few drops that had slittered down my dick, “You’re less sticky now.”

Phil binned the wipes and climbed back into bed, cuddling up next to me and filling me with warmth. Despite Phil’s cleaning efforts, we might still need to wash the sheets in the morning, but we’d assess that situation in daylight. It was worth it anyway. I felt amazing and I knew Phil did too; I could almost feel the smile radiating off of him.

--

In the morning, we caught Adam and Ethan stuffing their sheets into the washing machine, so Phil and I thought we’d contribute ours to the load. With the washing machine whirring away in the background, all four of us sat down for a good breakfast. I was hungry after the events of last night and knew I needed to eat well to give myself energy for the day ahead.

Ethan seemed to be feeling fine this morning, but I kept an eye on what he was eating, knowing that he too could be at risk at not ingesting enough energy to get him through the morning. Although we suffered from different mental health problems, we both had issues with eating sometimes and on a morning such as this, we all had more energy to replace than usual.

With our new found energy, we were ready to tackle the day ahead. There were things to do, preparations for the two of them heading home in just over a week and preparations for Adam’s birthday in a few days time. Everyone was feeling good today, so that made things easier. Last night’s passionate activities had led to everyone being productive and things were starting to look brighter for the weeks ahead.

Next Chapter =>

[kingofthewilderwest]

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. I was tagged by @dyannehs​

LAST:

1. Drink: Water 2. Phone call: Myself. Because I lost my cell phone. Outside of that, my mom! 3. Text message: One of my awesomeful friends of awesomeness who I’ve nicknamed Hux (she’s the Hux to my Kylo!) 4. Song you listen to: A nerdy composition project I’m working on. *grins* It’s a secret ’cause I’m gonna share online when I’m done! 5. Time you cried: Actual-actual cry? Don’t remember. Tears in the eyes? Maybe like two days ago? Yay for being broke.

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: Yes, I have dated the same person twice, and both experiences were quite wonderful indeed! And I’d probably date her a third time if life came around to it - both times we broke up came from us being too timid to do basic communication about relationship goals. We’re still really good friends rn - honestly either as friends or as dates, I’m happy either way! 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes 8. Been cheated on: Not in the sex way, but my first relationship ended because my current gf was hitting blatantly on someone in front of my face, and while we were talking about maybe doing a poly thing, this hitting-on-someone-else was in the venue of putting aside and ignoring me, and that wasn’t okay.  9. Lost someone special: Yes. 10. Been depressed: Oh shit I forgot my depression meds again... *runs to take them* Umm. Yes. The answer’s yes. High-functioning depression, here I am, prime example. Yayyyy [sarcasm] 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: I don’t drink alcohol so nope.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 

12. Silver 13. Chocolate brown 14. Black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Aye! 16. Fallen out of love: Not really? I mean I don’t know how to explain it. 17. Laughed until you cried: Thanks to Lance and Kaltenecker, yes. 18. Found out someone was talking about you: I guess my coworkers thought I was quitting instead of just reducing my hours, so I had to fix that rumor chain straight. 20. Found out who your friends are: I think that’s always an ongoing thing in life. This year, I’d say that I’ve had reaffirmations that the people I care about care about me, so that’s really awesome. It’s wonderful to know that people are thinking of me. And I’m thinking of you, friends! 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Yep!

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: About 99% of them. It’s very rare for me to add an internet friend to my FB contacts. 23. Do you have any pets: No. My apartment only allows cats and dogs, and I want guinea pigs again. ;_; 24. Do you want to change your name: I’m proud of my name and have used it as a source of inspiration (it means “pure”). That said, in the last few years, I feel increasingly distanced from my name and honestly think of myself far more as being named “Haddock.” Haddock is my name, my birth name is second. Still a good name, but I’m a Haddock. 25. What did you do for your last birthday: On the day itself: relaxed, bought myself froyo, Skyped family, chilled, was awesome. The general-ish week of my birthday: had a dinner with family, stayed up and binged all of VLD S4 the night it came out, hung out with a friend and also binged VLD. Basically, a lot of VLD. 26. What time do you wake up: The number fluctuates quite wildly day-per-day because “sleep schedule” is a myth. Today, I got up at 11 AM. 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Answering asks on tumblr and PMing/texting a few good friends. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Having enough money to live comfortably and not stress every time rent week comes around. 29. When was the last time you saw your mom?: A few days ago, Friday. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Oh where do I fucking start... Well. The biggest thing is I’d do is go back in time and prevent a terrifyingly bad argument/falling out with my ex/ex best friend that happened in 2011-2012, not because I want to still be friends with this person (I don’t anymore), but because the experience was very... traumatic... to both of us and I’d love us not to live with those mental scars. I’m still getting over those scars and it sucks. 31. What are you listening to right now: The composition I’m working on. 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yeah. Don’t know anyone well named Tom, though. One of my coworkers is a Tommy if that counts? 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: There’s one wonderful friend of mine who’s going through a really challenging time. I want to help them so badly, but they’ve been closed off and hermitting themselves to the point I think it’s harmful for them, it’s hard to contact them to help them, and they live too far away for me to check on them in person easily. I want to do anything to see them in person to help, or to talk to them, or anything... sitting in silence makes me very worried because this wonderful human soul deserves all the love and support they can get for what they’re going through. 34. Most visited website: Tumblr, Facebook, Netflix, Google. 35. Mole/s: I have two bumps on my forehead, one to either side. I jokingly call them horns, but they’re not evenly lined up, and the one on my left is much larger than the one on my right. 36. Mark/s: Bellybutton scar from a second degree burning incident, lots of scars on my hands right now from falling on concrete two months back, lots of scars on my wrists from a whole bunch of whatnot (I even have one from my sophomore year of high school when a school binder scraped me?), oh. And I have basically leopard-speckled shoulders from countless acne/pimple scars. For unnatural marks... three tats! Plans to get at least two more. 37. Childhood dream: To be a published, bestselling author or a college prof. 38. Hair color: Currently dark brown with bleached bangs and a strip on the right side. Natural hair color is what I call “dusty brown” and some people would call dirty blonde; it’s in that random in-between blonde and brown where the top is blonde-ish and the bottom is rather brown. 39. Long or short hair: I have the conundrum of enjoying my hair either really long or really short. I’m in the process of regrowing it to the long stage. It’s sort of at the bottom-of-the-shoulder-blades/boob length now. Goal is to go back to waist length. 40. Do you have a crush on someone: Does Takashi Shirogane count? 41. What do you like about yourself: Honestly, quite a lot? XD I’m very thankful to be a nerd who is apt to learn anything from sciences to arts and music and sports. I’m thankful to be a musician, a composer, a creative writer, an animation junkie, an analytical and logical mind, a complete and utter NERD beyond belief who lives in nerd culture. I love my appearance, I love my facial hair, I love my eyebrows and face shape, I love my body shape, I love that I’m left-handed, I love that I’m not conventionally pretty. I love being a Christian. I love being aroace. I mean when I’m not in a depressive, self-deprecating mode, I really am proud and thankful to be who I am all across the board; there’s very little that I dislike about myself. Mostly what I dislike is my current life situation of not being anywhere career-wise. Everything else, pretty happy. :) 42. Piercings: Two on each earlobe and one halfway up the cartilage. Dammit and I wanted like a dozen piercings by this type in my life. Get me a more stable paycheck and we’re fixing this! 43. Blood type: O+. Most common blood type, woot? 44. Nicknames?: I’ve had a terrifying slew of nicknames over the years. Currently, the most common ones are Haddock, King, (Kylo) Ren, Spock, and Toast. 45. Relationship status: Single in my chill natural habitat. 46. Zodiac: I am so bitter about my Zodiac sign I refuse to say it even though it’s not too hard to figure out what it is given other answers to this meme. 47. Pronouns: He/his/him, though honestly I really don’t care too much what people toss at me. 48. Favorite TV Show: Voltron: Legendary Defender. 50. Right or left hand: LEFT-HANDED WOOOOOOOO LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFT LEFTY PRIDE YOOOO! 51. Surgery: When I was nine I had four baby teeth and then the four adult teeth under them removed. Basically, a wisdom tooth like surgery but younger and with different teeth. 52. Hair dyed in different color: FUCK YEAH! I was getting really bored of my natural hair color but was keeping it natural for the purpose of looking professional (job searches). I’d been wanting to reinstate some purple and black again, but with my current job only allowing “natural” hair colors, I decided I couldn’t go that route. Instead I bleached the front and dyed the rest dark brown in a sort of inspiration from Takashi Shirogane. 53. Sport: I played soccer all growing up, so much fun. Love jogging. Sports are great, miss having the opportunity to do team stuff. Also really enjoy watching professional gymnastics, soccer, American football, and especially tennis. 55. Vacation: I want to see so many locations oh my fuck. My “to go to” list includes Bhutan, Nepal, China/Tibet, Mongolia, Cambodia (again... come on I miss it!), Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Japan, United Arab Emirates, United Kingdom (England & Scotland), Norway, Canada, Peru, Mexico, South Korea, India, Myanmar, Austria, Germany, Iceland... um. Yeah. You. Get the picture. I NEED TO TRAVEL, YO! 56. Pair of trainers: Uh they’re like really raggedy and old and stuff

MORE GENERAL: 

57. Eating: I’m snacking on M&Ms again, like always. 58. Drinking: Water, though methinks I shall make some homemade ginger tea. 59. I’m about to: Probably go shower. It’s 3 PM and I still am in my pajamas. 62. Want: To fucking write and do NaNo and yet life’s been busy and I haven’t had the time for a word but I HAVE SO MANY VLD FANFICS I WANT TO DO AND AURGHGHGHGHGHGH the goal is to somehow write and finish my universal translator mix-up one this month???? We’ll see! Translators, stay tuned, and thanks again for offering to help! 63. Get married: 97% of me doesn’t want to get married I think? 64. Career: Linguistics consultant of doom. Not sure if this can be a career but if I could, I would enjoy continuing the remote work. To explain: I currently work contract positions with various companies who hire me for short-term projects, in which I use my linguistics expertise to analyze and annotate large sums of data according to certain guidelines. 65. Hugs or kisses: Hugs. I. LOVE. HUGS. SO. MUCH. HUGGGGGMEEEEE! I always look closed off in my body language but I swear the inside of me is always going “Giff me the cuddles and don’t let go.” 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes. Eyes are the most gorgeous thing about humans seriously. 67. Shorter or taller: I prefer to be the short one in all social situations. 68. Older or younger: For friends, I’m chill with whatever age you are. Dating, also chill, though I think I tend to prefer being slightly older just ’cause that’s how most of my relationships have been? But really doesn’t matter. 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms. Nice arms are unique for me. I’m pretty happy with lots of different stomach types I see - tummies just are cute! :) 71. Sensitive or loud: A combo is fun but what I look for most in any platonic or anything relationship is someone with a deep heart. I want friends with whom I can confide in anything... so has to be that sensitive side (sensitive-logical if that makes sense is what I like best). 72. Hook up or relationship: I’ve done random PG hookups? But my answer for this is relationship; hookups are only fun for short-term boosts of self-confidence and not being 100% genuine and just being like carefree “whatever” for a night (make sure you both know you’re just doing the hookup night though, please guys, no deception!). Long-term relationships though are glorious like none other for their emotional power. <3 That is pure beauty, caring for someone deeply with lasting loyalty. But of course ya’ll know me... I find nothing more beautiful to cherish than deep platonic care! 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Combo of both!

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a Stranger: Yeppers 75. Drank hard liquor: Nope 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: Yes ugh I have no clue where one of my pairs of glasses are again 77. Turned someone down: Yes 78. Sex on the first date: I’ve had sex never so this is an easy answer 79. Broken someone’s heart: Yes 80. Had your heart broken: Yes 81. Been arrested: No 82. Cried when someone died: Yes 83. Fallen for a friend: Yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84: Yourself: Yes, typically 85. Miracles: Absolutely 86. Love at first sight: I mean I don’t deny it happens. It happens. But I don’t think it’s pragmatic to think that’s what’ll happen to you. 87. Santa Claus: Come on, of course North and the Guardians are kicking Pitch’s butt! 88. Kiss on the first date: Sure, why not

OTHER: 

90. Current best friend name: I don’t have one best friend right now. A few of my current closest friends are named Josh, “Hux”, Keith, JuLee, Rachel, Peter, and Meredith. 91. Eye color: Brown 92. Favorite movie: HOW DO I PICK ONE FAVORITE MOVIE FUCK YOU?? The Prince of Egypt, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the How to Train Your Dragon movies, Pacific Rim, there, I made a list.

Uhhhhh let’s so who should I tag... if you want to do it... @akkeyroomi @the-mr-eggplant @chiefrosepetal @thefuriousnightfury @insaneskye @fanwriter02 @dragonpride99 @jettara @margarethelstone @shailyesshadow @hubwalker1 @godguy0001 @theravenfliesagain @frosty-viking @jackthevulture @hiccup-is-left-handed @dragonnan @spacekeet @nightfury326 yaknowwhat I am not going to count but we’ll say that’s about 20 XD

[recoverydiariesposts]

So his doctor said that basically if he pulled his back after the second day of work, then it is a too fast paced job for him and he really shouldn't be lifting a ton of heavy stuff at work, cause he could make his slipped discs much worse. So the doctor wrote a note for my husband's work explaining the situation, and made a copy for the welfare office, and a prescription for more of the mess he's currently on cause they help. We came back home, husband wanted to buy lunch and pick up his prescription, but when we checked the mailbox there was a letter from welfare saying that he needs to sign off since he's now been at work for two weeks. So we decide to go do everything today, we picked up his prescription, then went to the welfare office to explain everything. Basically the lady didn't listen very well, cause husband kept saying "my doctor has written a note saying I'm unable to work in a fast paced job that requires heavy lifting like McDonald's" and she kept saying "so you're ineligible to work" completely ignoring that that's not what we were saying at all. But she said that we have to get his work to fill out the days he's worked and how much he's been paid, which btw the first week he earned 120 euro for the two days plus sick leave and then 90 euro for an entire week of sick leave, he made well below what welfare pays a 18 year old's jobseeker allowance. But basically she said that we need to get that form filled out and signed by the head manager, then we need to submit it along with the doctor's note for evaluation, to determine whether or not we qualify for jobseeker's allowance. I'm pissed, she kept saying "you're most likely gonna have to apply for disability" when his doctor said he doesn't have the qualifications to apply for disability. He needs a certain amount of stamps to qualify, his doctor and my MIL have said they don't think he has enough. So if we don't qualify for jobseeker's allowance and he doesn't qualify for disability then we're gonna be fucked if I can't find a job immediately. Even then i don't think I'll make enough to fully take over bills and food money.

Though we dunno, we went into McDonalds and since his manager wasn't there so we left it with the supervisor and they'll call us once the manager comes in and signs it. So until then we're just in a state of anxiety, our livelihood is in the hands of the government and I'm terrified, I know I need to get a job and I will, but this whole time we've talked about both of us working to jointly get money. Together we would've been making over 20k a year which isn't a lot but we could definitely make do. But just by myself we'd maybe make 17k a year, could get better probably won't tho. With just me able to work, I can't do the work I want to because it's a shit pay, and definitely isn't a livable wage for even just one person, let alone two people and possibly two kids. I'm gonna have to look into jobs that pay higher and work my way up trying my damnest to give us a comfortable life, even if it ends up being a soul sucking job that makes me never home to see my kids or husband. Irish times recently put out that a family of four needs at the very least 30k to make bare minimum, and 50k to live comfortably in 2019, and that'll only get higher and higher as time goes on. I feel so unbelievably stressed right now, I'm a woman and foreign, that already puts me at a great disadvantage, why would they hire a foreigner from the US when they could hire an EU resident to do the same job, sure I might work harder, but the Americans are painted as lazy racist people who get fat and sue everyone for stupid reasons, that's not really a great stereotype for me to get a job. I would work the skin off my bones to get a good job, but the cards are heavily stacked against me. I'm gonna be stressed, depressed, and probably won't be able to afford mental health care for myself while I'm solely paying for me my husband and two kids. Even if he can get a job, it's gonna be hard and I dunno if he'll try, he's already proven himself to be unmotivated, he doesn't even want a job he just wants money to fall in his lap for nothing. He said he'd love to be a stay at home dad too, but I seriously doubt he could do it, he can't stomach changing diapers, I dunno how he'll deal with it, especially when he wants two in such a small time frame. If his back can't handle being on his feet a lot and lifting stuff, I dunno how hell take care of toddlers that will definitely want to be held a ton, and won't understand what a back injury is, not to mention they love love love to run away from you. I don't think we'll be able to do this, I even told him before, if I'm the only one working, I don't think I'll be able to make enough for us to have any kids. He started tearing up and said "I know", like it's killing me, I want children so badly, and if I can't have any because we can't afford them, I dunno what I'll do. I don't want to divorce him, I want to be with him, I just wish life didn't deal us both the worst cards it could.

All while my fucking cousins get a fucking 100k allowance and live on a farm where they get to be hippies cause my great uncle pays their bills. They get lavish vacations and horses, all while some of my other cousins live in trailers with three kids they can barely afford, and my husband and I are struggling to even get started in life, we would appreciate a fucking paid for house with an allowance. The most my great uncle and aunt gave me was 1000 bucks, which I thought was a very generous thing, only to watch as after my aunt handed me the check they gave the same amount to every other family there, even the wealthy fuckers. For my wedding I got fucking 150 British pound and they couldn't even come, they were sick and that completely understandable but you'd think if you couldn't come to someone's wedding you'd try to give a REALLY nice gift to say sorry or maybe even have the cash present be in the currency of the country I live in? They gave less than my grandma (who's a fucking boss), she gave us 500 euros to help us go on a honeymoon. Especially when they helped pay for my cousins college and high school educations, and one of my cousin's wedding last year. They had a lavish wedding, a really nice one, so expensive that my cousin couldn't come to my wedding, which btw even though he knew about my wedding for over a year, he just decided to propose to his gf and get married a month after me which all happened in about 8 months. Why do they get handouts that they don't need, while the family members that are struggling and barely making it are left in the dust. I recently even saw my dad's cousin go to fucking Paris that she no doubt paid for with her allowance, her kids also all but one dropped out of college after a year or so (it was a cycle of them quiting and coming back multiple times, right now the three of them all live at home in mommy's garage and basement) that was paid for by great uncle and aunt. I'm. Tired of this favoritism bullshit, my brother and I have been nothing but overly kind and gracious to them about the shitty thoughtless gifts they gave (they have me perfume for Christmas one year that still had the price tag on it, it was cheap and I'm also unable to use it because I'm highly sensitive to lavender perfume as it always gives me massive headaches), I thought that the last Christmas we were there I finally was being treated like my cousins, but only to realise they gave each and every family member 1000-3000 dollars, you can probably guess which family members got the higher amounts. Hell, the spoiled cousins that were 18+ each got 1000 to themselves. My great aunt and uncle are fucking millionaires. Honestly I just can't wait for them to die, ok I don't want them to because I do love the old farts but I just want to see my shitty spoiled cousins blow through their inheritances like nothing only to be left with no job, no income, and no grandpa to bail them out. I wish I could get that sweet delicious revenge without losing my aunt and uncle but I doubt they'd cut any of them off.

I'm sorry, I seem spoiled, it just for literally two years my mom and my grandmother told me that since I'm the first to have an actual wedding that wasn't shot gun like my cousins, that I might get a nice present or maybe even a hefty chunk of our honeymoon paid for, which would've been nice. Only for when the time came, my grandma handed me 150 pound of crumpled cash from my great aunt, even she was upset her sister cheaped out on me. I could tell that the bills were left over from their trips, cause my grandmother told me that she took out fresh new notes for me, they didn't have a single fold. That's usually custom right? Even if it isn't, my grandma cared enough to do something nice like that. We can't even get it exchanged for our currency because most of the notes are ripped or written on. I don't understand, like I know we said we might go to England for our honeymoon, but we also said in the same sentence that we might go to Spain instead. I dunno, I just feel forgotten and not cared about by them when I've done nothing but be polite and respectful to them