#assholes ruining peoples day is nothing new in this fandom

[terriblegam2r]

If you use Twitter and DO NOT want to be spoiled for ‘The Ones Who Live’, immediately block these users.

They are currently going out of their way to spoil everyone by posting spoilers in all TOWL/Walking Dead related tags (do not scroll down their page, just instantly block them).

[shellbells-things]

What. A. DAY. (Or couple of days…) First, everyone was in an uproar about Jungkook’s song. I won’t lie, my eyebrows went up to my hairline when I heard the rap lyrics. They just seemed so…aggressive. And very un-Jungkook like. Fortunately, there is a version without those lyrics! The song is catchy and will most certainly go viral.

But just when we were catching our breath from the song drama, we were suddenly bombarded with videos that supposedly showed Jungkook in his apartment, aggressively back hugging and chasing a pregnant woman. Also, we got a bunch of accusations about him supposedly harassing woman at work, acting inappropriately at a Karaoke bar, and sexually harassing waitresses. I mean talk about piling on!!! Someone is working EXTRA hard to try and basically ruin Jungkook, and oh-so conveniently on the day of his new song release. Hmmmm….does this remind you of anything? Didn’t some assholes break into Jimin’s apartment, steal his mail and hide it so that he got behind on his insurance payments and then waited until his new OST was released to post a story in the press? All designed to distract from his new song and bring the fandom down on his head. Sounds like the same playbook to me.

Regarding the alleged Jungkook video. I see a lot of people saying the video could be Jungkook, and that they will accept it if it is. I see people blindly accepting this crap. And I’m just…floored by that. Everyone is so afraid of looking like the cult that they refuse to question and investigate? That they immediately forget 10 years of Jikook behavior that makes it clear that they are something special to each other? Excuse me?

People. There is NOTHING wrong with scoffing at this. The blurriness of the video is purposeful. Designed to give the impression of Jungkook without actually showing details that could prove it’s him (unlike the Taennie videos from Paris, which were crystal clear). I mean, we’ve got satellites in space that can zoom in on a pimple on your nose and clearly show it. You’re telling me an iPhone camera or a telephoto lense couldn’t do a better job than this mess? There are a lot of inconsistencies in these videos that I won’t get into, but you get my point.

Please don’t be afraid to question. Truth seeking is a good thing!! Go ahead and draw pictures to help you better understand the apartment layout. Take screen grabs and circle things that don’t match. Talk it out with your friends! And no. This doesn’t make you like the cult, it just makes you someone who supports Jungkook and wants to make sure that you are giving him every benefit of the doubt. Once you’ve done your due diligence, then you can make your mind up based on 1) what you already know about Jungkook and 2) what the facts and circumstances you’ve reviewed show. And let’s be real about this. The person who took the video didn’t just luck into being there at the exact right moment. Either they were straight up stalking the people they were filming or more likely, the scene was set for the purpose of filming this “gotcha”moment.

The bottom line is this. Regardless of whether you believe the video is legit or a lie, someone is trying really hard to hurt Jungkook. And none of us should be ok with that.

I know what I DO believe in, and it’s this:

[davekat-sucks]

If there's one thing i don't like about this fandom it's how much they make the kids more meaner? Villainizing? Than they actually are. Don't get me wrong, they have done a lot of bad but like these characters are FRIENDS. They do genuinely care about eachother in the end they aren't cold hearted and revel in other's suffering, they aren't Caliborn or Vriska afterall. I think they read the comic wrong, the kids were willing to sacrifice their own lives for eachother, a prime example of this was Daves conversation with doomed Rose. I blame the spaceship meteor part of the story for ruining the characters. Like everyone acted so ooc? Why were Jade and Davesprite giving John such a hard time about his dad die dying? Both of them literally had to watch their guardians die in front of them, you'd think they'd be the most sympathetic here? Or how Dave and Karkat, characters who will go through lengths to protect their friends just fucking stand there as everyone else tears themselves or eachother apart? Karkat is an ass yes but this was the same guy who was crying his heart out when he saw Solluxs dead body when in game or how he told Aradia bot that he would've tried to get her back to life if it weren't for other circumstances. Why was everyone being so uncaring at this part? It didn't feel right. The alpha kids got it the WORST, from bad writing to fandom treatment. I remember back in the day seeing stuff where Dirk was just down right mean to Jane "hahaha sucks to be you Jake is mine fat bitch". There was even a little bit of this aggressiveness in House of Dirk, now i do find that story fun but the small part where he calls Jane "xenophobic", bothered me. Like he would NOT say that to her. Have you seen how he speaks to her? "If you ever need help, Jane. If you're ever in any trouble at all. Let me know. Just say the word." Same guy who built a robot to protect her life and pretty much wrote an entire book for her, i think Dirk cares about Jane guys. This fandom and comic is so mean to Jane, as funny as i thought it was that Caliborn called her a fat fucking pig and cow, she really just became a punching box at that point. They'll shit on her because she's a woman getting in the way of the gay men. The ONLY thing people get from her as a character is that she's fat, because Caliborn said so along with a bunch of other things. Jake, poor Jake, gets sexualized by everyone he knows and had to burn his Grandmothers body right in front of him. But according to fans HE'S the asshole here because he cant communicate properly. Gee i wonder why. Roxy gets put on a fucking pedestal by the comic and fans, super extra special treatment. Ignore how she sexually harasses Dirk or almost killed Jane, no she's incapable of doing wrong, isn't that right Calliope? Yes, Roxy should be the new leader AND kill the Condescension yes. Now i never finished reading the epilogues because why would i? I'm probably missing a lot if we're taking them into consideration but not taking it into consideration because my point still stands because thats how the fandom treated them even before those came out. And even when talking about the base comic i still see those attitudes.

These characters DO have their personal problems but when people talk about they insert angst where it doesn't exist for favor of projection and i hate how common its become.

If people claim it is just cynicism that comes with growing up, there's clearly a difference between being cynicism, nihilism, and being a straight up asshole. If people say it is Dave and Karkat's depression is the reason why they stand around doing nothing as Rose becomes alcoholic and Terezi gets abused by Gamzee, it's sure strange they got over their depression right as VRISKA comes in to solve everything and those two bastards act like nothing had happened. Everything by Act 6 and Post Retcon just made all the characters worse. They have become an empty shell of who they used to be. The bleak outlook has become a theme for current Homestuck. It's been like this for Epilogues and Homestuck^2 too. I don't know if James Roach and HICU can really save the franchise and get out of all the characters having this negative light. Andrew Hussie and WhatPumpkin has shoved this jaded feeling right in the audience's faces that it's become the norm to expect the worse. Readers expect characters being assholes and more depression, they will receive it because Hussie and WhatPumpkin made it so.

[hoardingpuffin]

Okay, so lemme preface this by saying I haven't watched the PJO show yet because I am boycotting the Mouse Company, however this post is likely going to at reference spoilers from later books [just fyi if you are not familiar with the books and want to avoid spoilers]

In the past few days I have seen so many readers be absolute SHITS toward people who are completely new to the fandom, who are show-watchers only, and it's making me so fjucking mad.

Like yeah, I get it, we are all super hyped to finally get a good adaption of these books, but there is no reason - absolutely no reason - to treat non-readers the way I've seen some people treat them, especially when all they do is ask for a spoiler warning.

I've legit seen people say things like, I quote: "The books were out for years, learn to read, you imbecile" (I wish I was kidding) and more in that general tone, and guys, that's shitty ass behaviour. Stop.

People are going to be newcomers to a fandom. People who maybe were too young for the books then are old enough for the show now, or people might not have been aware of the books at all and then saw the ads for the show and went "well that seems fun I'll give it a watch" - and this elitism of some of the readers is going to ruin the experience of these newcomers and possibly even turn them away from the PJO fandom before they could even properly get invested.

Yes, the books have been out for years. Yes, there was plenty of chance to read them. Yes, people are going to likely get spoiled when exploring the online part of the fandom. That doesn't give you an excuse to be shitty to these newcomers, to insult them, call them illiterate or cuss them out. Just put a fucking spoiler warning on your Luke Castellan Tiktok edit if it's gonna reference what happens to him with Kronos. Put a fucking spoiler warning on your Clarisse LaRue edit that references Silena's death in Last Olympian. It's not that hard, it is one little word. Plus, novel thought [/s], not all book readers get to watch the show immediatly and might likewise appreciate a spoiler warning!

I seriously don't get why I have seen nothing but hostility toward newcomers since the show has been out. I thought we'd be excited that a whole new wave of people gets to experience this series that we all love for the first time! For me, there is nothing quite so exciting as getting my friends into a fandom I've been in that they haven't - we should let newcomers give that chance with PJO.

Tag spoilers. It is one word, it's not that hard, and it makes the fandom space more welcoming.

Also don't cuss out people who are new. Don't go all high and mighty "It's not my fault you can't read" at them - it's shitty. It is asshole behaviour and you are gonna give the fandom a bad name.

Basically, don't be a dick and let newcomers enjoy the show.

[light-lanterne]

I've been extremely conflicted lately. Been looking for new fandoms, but I just don't feel like catching up on anything right now, and nothing's grabbing my interest like byler. I'm not really feeling anything about ST rn though :( it just makes me nauseous. The only thing I can tolerate is reading fics. I'm struggling to even write. I had started a byler fic this month that was planned to be long and the wind in my sails is completely gone now because of this. I just don't know what to do tbh

hello ! that's all totally understandable ! it's hard to enjoy the show when so many aspects of it are now associated with horrible people with terrible a perspective on things (to say the least) :\ that said, and as hard as it is, please try not to let such things ruin or tarnish all the good memories you've acquired from engaging with the material in the past. like the stories you've read and written, the art you've witnessed, the fun events and moments you've partaken in and the friends and connections you've made,,,

while stranger things might've been the catalyst for all those things, it is you and other members of the fandom who gave importance to this all, and just because the showrunners and certain actors are assholes i don't think you should let that ruin all the joy you've gotten from their story and the many creations that have derived from it.

so, with this in mind, you can keep engaging with the fandom and fanworks !! or don't !! you can always take a break and come back with renewed interest, or you can try to get into something else if that's what you desire (but again, you don't have to move onto something new if you don't feel like it). this is all meant to make you happy so please do what makes you feel better at the moment.

there are lots of options so please, remember that writing is supposed to be a hobby that brings you joy, as opposed to something to stress over or something that you owe to people. wait until the wind finds its way back to your sails so that, when it happens, you can make something you feel proud of and which you can enjoy rereading in the future ^-^

(same goes for all the other types of fanworks one can create)

please take care, and remember that your happiness is what matters the most, okei ? have a great day / night !!!

[byers7wheeler]

Firstly I really, truly need you to understand you’re not a bad person for still enjoying the show and I am so sorry you’ve been made to feel that way.

I’m going to try and lay things out in a way that’s easy to understand:

Boycott - It can’t be boycott. ST is already getting made. Everyone is already getting paid. Nothing is stopping season 5’s release. People are being dramatic as hell and all you really can do to assist is cancel your Netflix subscription and not interact with posts on official pages (but absolutely post clips or screenshots etc same as usual for your own pages and enjoy them that way! For official accs it’s interaction levels people want to target)

You can also not buy merch, however if you receive merch as gifts from those who know that you like ST you are not a bad person for loving and keeping them!!! It’s not your money! I have to say that because I have seen others believe that, which is ridiculous. No logic to that.

“But then again there’s a literal genocide going on.” - Darling, it’s okay! It’s great that you show so much empathy, but there’s really only so much you can do. This specific situation is so dire, even things like donations as one normally would do to help have been discouraged because it’s not making it to the actual people! There’s a reason we sometimes feel helpless about it okay? You spread awareness when you feel you can, you go to protests if safe in your city, you write to any officials in your govt if safe to, you avoid giving to any brands you’re financially able to not support, and that’s kind of all right now. Recognizing your privilege in being able to step away when it feels mentally heavy is good too, but you’re still allowed to take a breather for a few days if needed. Nothing, absolutely nothing to do with your favorite show and your enjoyment of it.

The main thing:

A fandom is merely an extension of its source material, that is all fic writers, fan artists, video editors etc are doing. It is all fictional and removed from the streaming service. Nobody here is a marketing team - we all have SO much smaller influence than people think; we are not influencers, we are not promoters or journalists or review critics. Posting to your fandom feed does nothing. Posting to your personal Insta story about a new trailer? yeah that’s more promoting than sharing hype in a fandom space is.

If others can’t separate characters from actors, or are still at an immature stage where seeing someone’s face is enough to ruin their whole day and feel the need to change a character’s appearance because of it, or are unable to regulate themselves and step away and come back after cooling down instead of saying a million unnecessary things in the heat of the moment - that’s not my problem. It’s not your problem. They will try and make you think it’s your problem, what they’re saying and doing is truly morally correct (can’t be, they lack nuance in everything), that because they’re right you have to do exactly what they do - but you don’t. You can’t shut down a fandom and you shouldn’t. They can go away if they can’t separate things (and thankfully most are going away 🙏).

Nobody is pathetic or an asshole for still enjoying the show and everyone should keep an eye on the types of people who say things like that to guilt you (usually a fellow minor, mean spirited and often gets in random fights anyway, stans celebrities and isn’t used to a fandom where it’s understood fictional characters are not real people.).

Another big thing - it’s understandable to want opinions or talk things out with others, but I so discourage listening to anyone who tries to help but does so in a mean way (your gut will tell you). I say this because I saw you say the pressure of others is getting to you. Again I’m sorry, because that pressure is affecting so many people and it’s so good you broke free from that and asked instead of following blindly. So many of those people especially on tiktok will be minors and while they may know information, they don’t have a lot of experience and context to put it into and it’s all very surface level and performative. Not all of them, but definitely the one’s going for people’s throats. You’re 21 - find better sources and don’t listen to them. Step away from tiktok for a bit if you have to.

You’re not a shitty person. You’re not a shitty person. I hope you keep enjoying the show and when a wave of hate comes once filming starts or trailers drop I hope you stay strong! Try and find some people (preferably other mature adults) on tumblr or something to lean on! All love to you.

Omg anon you’re actually so fucking nice and sweet, I won’t even respond to all this I’ll respond more to your second one

[cantstoptheimagines]

Flying Colors (Eddie Munson | Stranger Things)

Part Two | Part Three Coming Soon!

Summary — The Hellfire Club is screwed if their fearless leader, Eddie Munson, can’t make the grade.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Cursing; the Upside Down doesn’t exist here; Eddie is kind of a jerk.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,698. ➳ This does not have a ‘Reader’ within the story. Instead, there is an OC named Jenny Campbell (she/her, 18). ➳ Eddie x Valedictorian!OC, a fluffy trope that I really need in my life, so I decided to write it on my own.

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

Ms. O’Donnell was someone who Eddie Munson could only describe as, well, a total hag. He was so close to finally passing her class, but of course, there was always something in the way. And now this!

“You’re not serious?”

He glared at Ms. O’Donnell and Principal Higgins. There was no way this wasn’t some sort of sick joke! And to bring the Hellfire Club into it?! God, he hated them!

Principal Higgins sighed, “Completely, Mr. Munson. Your grades haven’t improved, so we’ve all come to the conclusion that this would be a good way to motivate you.”

“We all really want you to graduate,” said Ms. O’Donnell, but Eddie couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when she quietly muttered to herself, “believe me.”

“If you don’t get your grade to at least a D by the end of this quarter,” said Principal Higgins, “then your... club... won’t be allowed to hold meetings here any longer.”

Eddie scoffed, “I can’t believe this! What d’you expect me to do?”

He watched as Ms. O’Donnell and Principal Higgins shared a glance with one another. This is just getting better and better, he thought, crossing his arms.

“I mean, can you guys believe this?!” exclaimed Eddie, laughing incredulously. “I swear those assholes wanna ruin my life so bad!”

As he shoved another handful of tater tots into his mouth, his friends from the Hellfire Club gazed at him with worry. They could tell Eddie was trying to play everything off as nothing to be concerned about, but... they were. 

If he didn’t get his grades up for Ms. O’Donnell’s class, they didn’t know what they would do.

Dustin Henderson spoke up, “Maybe getting a tutor won’t be so bad.”

Eddie scoffed. Of all things, a tutor was the suggestion that Ms. O’Donnell and Principal Higgins had given him. No way.

“Yeah, right, who’d wanna tutor me anyway, Henderson?”

“It can’t be that hard to find someone.”

Dustin froze as the rest of the Hellfire Club looked at him. Suddenly, somehow, he had put himself up as the one with all the answers for Eddie’s situation. Mike avoided eye contact with him, trying not to get roped into his friend’s new problem.

Dustin was so gonna get him back for that.

“You’ll get me a tutor?” asked Eddie.

As Eddie leaned back in his chair with raised eyebrows, Dustin felt the sudden need to prove himself. Eddie Munson was one of the coolest people he knew. And if Dustin could do him a solid, he’d probably be hailed as a king by the rest of the Hellfire Club. 

Dustin looked at Mike again. His dark-haired friend slowly shook his head at him. Don’t do it, Henderson. Don’t.

Dustin finally returned his attention to Eddie, who stared at him expectantly, and then he smiled nervously, “Sure.”

Jenny Campbell.

Dustin stared across the library at who was simultaneously his best and worst option for being Eddie’s tutor.

Why was she the best?

It wasn’t even the end of the spring quarter, and Jenny had already been chosen to be the valedictorian for that year’s senior class. And she was the only one that was offering tutoring sessions at the moment, at least according to the guidance counselor he had spoken to earlier that day.

Why was she the worst?

As a freshman, Dustin knew that talking to a senior like her was off limits. That, and Eddie would probably hate her guts since she was known as one of the most popular girls in the whole school.

He whipped around to look at his friends from the Hellfire Club. Each of them stared back with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

“I can not talk to her,” said Dustin. 

“You dug this grave on your own, dude,” shrugged Mike. 

“Lie in it,” said Jeff. 

Dustin then turned to Gareth, hoping he would have some sympathy, unlike the others. Alas, his dreams were crushed when Gareth scoffed and shook his head.

“Seriously?!” exclaimed Dustin, throwing his hands in the air with an exasperated expression.

The boys nearly leapt out of their skins when the librarian harshly shushed them. She glared at them over the rim of her glasses before continuing to scan some books on her desk.

“Just do it before the old lady kicks our asses,” demanded Gareth. 

Dustin sighed. They were right. He promised Eddie a tutor, so he was going to get him a tutor, damn it! The Hellfire Club was not going down without a fight!

Jenny Campbell blinked in surprise when the chair across from her suddenly screeched! against the floor of the library. She looked at the boy in front of her, raising her eyebrows when he smiled nervously.

“Hi,” he said.

Jenny waited for him to say more, but no more words came from him. A confused smile spread across her face as she closed the book in her hands, and replied, “Hey.”

“I’m Dustin,” he said.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, everything coming together within her head. “Are you the one who asked for tutoring—?”

“No!” he interrupted, leading her to pause with a puzzled expression on her face. “I mean, yes—! Well, sort of—!”

Jenny didn’t have to respond before she heard a quiet voice mutter something along the lines of “Dude!” and when she glanced over her shoulder, she immediately noticed a group of boys by the library doors. Each of them wore the same shirt with the words ‘Hellfire Club’ written in large letters. She recognized two of them, Gareth and Jeff, from some of her classes. The other boy seemed closer to Dustin’s age, leading her to assume that he was a freshman.

When she returned her attention to Dustin, she quickly realized that he was wearing the same shirt as the other boys, “If you’re asking to join your game, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to play.”

“It’s not that,” said Dustin. “Look, I need a tutor, but... not for me.”

Jenny’s eyebrows furrowed, “Okay?”

“If one of my friends doesn’t get his grades up by the end of this quarter,” explained Dustin, “Principal Higgins won’t let us have our meetings here anymore.”

Suddenly, everything made sense, leading Jenny to ask, “And you want me to help him?” 

Dustin’s expression shifted into one of pleading as he clasped his hands together, and begged, “Please!”

After taking his request into consideration for a moment, Jenny gave him a smile, “Okay.”

Dustin looked up at her, and asked, “Seriously? You’ll do it?”

Jenny nodded, “I haven’t had anyone else sign up for spring tutoring, so... why not?”

With that, Dustin leapt up from his seat, knocking the chair to the ground as he cheered, “Hell yeah!”

“Mr. Henderson!”

Jenny looked over her shoulder at the librarian, who was giving Dustin a rather nasty glare. Jenny then quickly whipped around and covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. Meanwhile, Dustin was frozen with a fearful expression.

“Sorry, Mrs. Brown,” he muttered, slowly easing his arms back to his side. Before he left, he whispered, “Meet me by the cafeteria tomorrow?”

Jenny uncovered her mouth, still smiling, and answered, “Sure.”

Dustin grinned back at her, “Jenny Campbell, you’re, like, the best person ever!”

“Dude, Jenny Campbell is, like, the worst person ever!”

Gareth, Jeff, and Mike all shared exasperated looks with one another. It was the next day, and Gareth had accidentally let the name of Eddie’s new tutor slip. And Eddie was none too pleased by the revelation.

Dustin was nowhere to be seen even though lunch was nearly over. The three boys, without Eddie’s knowledge, hoped that Jenny hadn’t backed out of Dustin’s deal. But why would she? As far as they knew, she wasn’t even aware that Eddie was the one she’d be helping.

That, and Dustin had told them that she seemed rather nice for a ‘popular’ girl. In his experience with ‘popular’ girls, at least. After all, she didn’t insult them for wanting the Hellfire Club to continue like most of their classmates would have.

And she even thought Dustin was going to ask her to join them. 

“Why?” asked Mike.

He really wanted Eddie to explain why he disliked Jenny so much before she and Dustin made an appearance. Correction, if they made an appearance.

“Oh, c’mon, Wheeler!” exclaimed Eddie. “That girl is the definition of forced conforming. With her perfect hair, her perfect house, her perfect car, and her perfect grades—!”

“Man, you really don’t like me.”

Jenny raised her eyebrows, watching Eddie’s reaction to her sudden appearance with amusement. Apparently, she had startled him pretty badly, because he immediately started coughing loudly, trying to fully swallow the tater tots he’d been eating.

Once he had regained himself, Eddie whipped around, his long hair nearly hitting him in the face. Dustin cleared his throat awkwardly when Eddie glared at him. There was no way he was going through with this.

“Guys, this is Jenny,” said Dustin. “Jenny, this is everybody.”

Each of the boys, aside from Eddie, greeted her quietly. Mike even decided to give her a small wave, and then asked, “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh!” grinned Dustin, gesturing to the girl next to him. “Jenny has a lunch pass, so she took me to this really cool burger place—!”

He was interrupted by a loud scoff. Eddie then stood up from his seat, straightening to his full height. He moved so he was standing toe-to-toe with Jenny. He gave her a once-over, and then asked, “How do I know you can even get me a D in this class, Campbell?”

Jenny tilted her head at him, and asked, “Do you wanna keep your ‘hobbit party’ open or not?”

Eddie scoffed again. He bit his lip in frustration when his friends glared at him. He could practically hear their thoughts shouting at him, Suck it up, Munson!

“Yes,” he muttered, returning his attention to Jenny, finally caving.

“Then you’ll just have to trust me, I guess,” she replied, allowing a smirk to slip onto her lips. “Don’t worry, Munson. I’ll make sure you pass O’Donnell’s spring exam with flying colors.”

And with that, their deal had been made.

[diaphragmjellyfish]

What Did I Miss?

So this blog has grown a ton in the last couple of months. Going into this year, I had maybe 15 followers. Now, I’m at 100. That might not seem like a lot to some of you, but to me, that’s 100 people who love my writing. 100 people who find comfort and joy in the things I put out there. And it means so much to me <3 I always wanted to be a writer, but always felt like I got lost in the sea of content. I couldn’t come up with anything original or anything that would get noticed. And then I started writing for Cobra Kai. It’s a pretty small fandom so anything put out there gets seen. Then, I started writing what I wanted to read. Vaginismus smut/ general feminist fics are a niche that has almost no writers, but so many of you have sent me private messages saying how much those fics mean to you. So, to honor all 100 of my new followers, I have combined my two genres. I now present to you… Eli Moskowitz x vaginismus!reader. I hope you love it! 

You have been doing your physical therapy for about a year now. It was a long process, full of ups and downs, good days and bad days, but you were proud to say you were done! The biggest dilator could be easily inserted with the right amount of lube. It made you feel more...normal. Let’s just say, you weren’t exactly the most popular girl in school. People didn’t notice you. And when they did, it was “who’s that shy girl that hangs out with those losers?” Yup. Your best friends, Demitri and Eli, were the only people you really felt comfortable around at school. You found each other back in elementary school, because everyone else was making friends and running around on the playground, while you three just wanted to stay inside and play board games. So you weren’t cool, which you were okay with. But being diagnosed with vaginismus a year ago after almost passing out trying to put in a tampon had made you feel like even more of a freak. You couldn’t do the one thing girls were wanted for. You’d be alone forever. 

But it was over. You could have sex. At least, you thought you’d be able to. You never actually tried before. What if it put you right back to square one? What if you totally embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked? These thoughts zipped through your mind at the speed of light, faster than you could keep up with, when something snapped you back into reality. 

“Y/N?” Eli asked timidly. You guys were hanging out in his basement waiting for Demitri to show up so you could start your Lord Of The Rings marathon. Your head snapped up, eyes locking with his. 

“Yeah? Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly. You had been thinking about sex while hanging out with Eli. That wasn’t cool. 

He studied your face for a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine. Is everything okay… with you?” You questioned back, trying to play it cool. 

“Umm, yeah. You’ve just been spacing out a lot today.” You were about to make up a reply when his phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you guys. He reached over to pick it up, scanning the screen before letting out a soft sigh. “Demitri’s mom is making him repaint their kitchen. He’s not gonna be here until 9.” He looked at your face at this for a reaction. 9 o’clock.  It was 7 right now. That left you with 2 hours to be alone, here, with Eli. There weren’t many times where it had been just the two of you. Demitri was always there as a talkative icebreaker, and you hadn’t truly appreciated it until now. It was getting awkward. 

You both sat there quietly, staring at the black TV. Neither of you were very talkative people. This was probably what it was going to be like the first time you tried to have sex with someone. Awkward, quiet, and the guy would probably leave when he realized he had to be beyond gentle because of your vaginismus. Yeah, you were thinking about sex a lot lately. But you’d just finished your therapy, so of course you were wondering about all the possibilities now. 

“Y/N,” Eli spoke, this time making you jump a little. You had been spacing out again. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to drive you home?” 

“No! I mean, thanks, but I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind today,” you laughed shyly. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked hesitantly. 

A pause. You definitely were not about to tell Eli about all your vagina problems, but you were itching to vent your concerns. Maybe you could just phrase it in a way so that he wouldn’t know what you were talking about. 

“I- I kind of have this thing.” You looked up at him, gaging his reaction. He was listening intently, no sign that he was about to say anything, so you kept going. “Basically, I’ve been doing physical therapy to fix it for the last year, and I’m finally done. So I’ve just been thinking about… all the things I can do now. I mean now that I’m… healed.”  

Sensing that you were done, he asked, “You seem nervous about it.” 

“I mean yeah. It kind of opens me up to a whole new world of experiences. But I still need to, I guess be careful? Take it slow. And I’m worried people might not want to… be a part of it.” 

He nodded, thinking about what you had just said. He was wildly confused, you had never seemed injured before, but he didn’t want to push you to talk.

So instead, he just said “Well I’ll always be here for you. Anything you want me to be a part of, I’m down.”

You thought about this. Eli was so understanding and supportive. He always had been. If you couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t tell any guy. Maybe this would be good practice for the conversation you’d inevitably have to have with someone. 

“Thanks. You kind of can’t be a part of it, though. I mean, it’s just really… personal.” He didn’t seem hurt by this, so you decided to let him in. “It’s kind of hard to talk about. Basically, it just causes me a lot of pain whenever I try to... “ you made some unintelligible hand gestures, hoping he would get what you meant without you having to say the word. He just shook his head no, showing that he didn’t understand. “Like, whenever I put something… inside.” You blushed deeply at this, giving Eli another hint about what you might mean. You were staring at the floor. He said nothing, and when you looked back up at him, he too was bright red. “Sorry. I’m probably making you really uncomfortable. I can just go and come back later when Demi-” 

“Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to go.” 

A pause. “Okay,” you replied. 

“You said that you were.... Healed. So does that mean you can, like, do stuff now?” he was still staring at the floor, fiddling with his hands as he said this. 

“Technically, yeah. I just still need to like… take it slow. And I guess I’m just nervous that no guy is gonna want to have to deal with that.”

“Well then they’re stupid,” he scoffed. You looked up at him, shocked at his little show of emotion. “Sorry. I just mean that, I know what it’s like to feel like no one will ever want you like that. And it’s dumb. You’re really cool. And smart, and funny… and pretty. And if there’s a guy that doesn’t want you just because he’s gonna have to be gentle, well he’s a grade-A asshole.” 

You laughed loudly at this, which made Eli smile at you. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you to say,” you smiled. “And if you’re talking about your scar when you say you know what it feels like, don’t worry about that. You’re totally cute and any girl would be lucky to kiss you.” His earlier words had you feeling bold, so you figured you would compliment him back. Guys almost never got compliments, especially quiet guys like Eli, so you felt like it was important to give him the same kindness he had given you. He turned so red, he looked like he wasn’t breathing. 

“That’s not true. I mean, thanks for being nice, but no girl at school has ever wanted to kiss me.” 

Well, here’s your chance. You guys were in his basement alone, the lights were turned down, and you guys just had a super personal conversation. So you went for it. “I can think of one girl who would be honored,” you whispered into the dimly-lit room. 

You could feel his head snap up at this. You were staring at the TV again, but his gaze was piercing. The air was thick, so you turned your head to look at him. He was in awe, looking at you like you were the warm sun on the first day of spring. You guys had been sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but you scooted close to the middle. Eli looked panicked, but pushed it away, swallowing hard before scooting to meet you. He was practically shaking with nerves. Were you really about to kiss him? In answer, you looked down at his lips, then back up at his eyes. You slowly leaned in, Eli frozen in place, scared to ruin the moment. Your lips barely touched his, being sure to ghost over his scar, before you pulled away a few inches and opened your eyes. You smiled at him, and once he realized that you had just kissed him on purpose and liked it… 

You gasped as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, leaning back in to kiss you again, slightly deeper this time. His lips were soft, but firm. He tasted like cherry chapstick and the coca cola he’d been drinking. This wasn’t your first kiss, but you knew it was his. You knew you would have to lead. So, you brought your hands up around his neck and swiped your tongue lightly over his bottom lip. You heard him sigh, and then felt him open his mouth as his tongue met yours. Sure, it was his first kiss, but damn he was a natural. Shortly after this, you pulled away again. 

“Woah,” he said, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Woah,” you parroted with a giggle. 

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. You laughed at this, throwing your head back. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Eli. I wanted to.” There was a beat of silence as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek. 

He said honestly, “Well I kind of feel bad now. You helped me with my problem but I didn’t help you with yours.” Your smile dropped, thinking about what he was implying. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I swear I’m not trying to like take advantage of you or something. I just meant that-” 

“I know what you meant. It’s fine.”  You smiled again. You knew Eli would never try to convince you to have sex with him like that. Seeing him flounder reminded you of how sweet he really was. The kind of guy you hoped you would be able to have sex with one day. “Honestly, I’ll probably just do it to get it over with. And if it hurts, I’ll just go back to therapy, and if not, great. But the anticipation is kind of killing me.” 

“Oh… well you should still do it with someone who cares about you. I mean, it’s your choice, but don’t just pick some random guy who’s not gonna care if he hurts you.” Eli was so heartfelt when he said this, you could have cried. He actually understood. And cared. And the moment was pretty intimate. 

“So you’re saying I should do it with a nice guy.”

“Well, yeah,” he responded as if it was obvious. 

“Are you a nice guy, Eli?”

He was quiet, thinking about all the meaning behind that simple sentence. After a few seconds, he nodded. You leaned back in to kiss him again, this time with much more passion. He took initiative this time, being the first to swipe his tongue over your lip and into your mouth. His hands moved from your face to your waist, supporting you when you moved to straddle his lap. You guys made out like this for a while, lost in the feeling of each other’s lips. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard. 

“Wait, wait,” he stopped you from moving back in. “Are we doing this right now?” 

“Do you not want to?” you felt a pang of rejection at this. Making to move off his lap. He grabbed you firmly by the hips. 

“Are you seriously asking me that question? The girl I’ve had a crush on since 3rd grade is sitting in my lap making out with me right now. Of course I’m into it.” You smiled at this. “I guess I just feel like I want to know more about your… thing first. I don’t want to hurt you.” You were definitely making the right choice here. Eli was so genuinely kind, you knew for sure in that moment you wanted to do this with him. 

“Okay. It’s a condition called vaginismus. Basically, my pelvic muscles get super tight as like a reflex whenever I try to… do anything. And that makes it super painful,” you explained. 

He nodded in understanding before asking, “And the physical therapy? How does that work?”

“Well, there are these things called dilators,” you blushed at this. “They come in a bunch of different sizes. You start with the smallest one, and just condition your body to relax while you put it in. And when you can do it with no pain, you move up to the next size. The smallest one is like the size of my pinky, and the biggest one is like… you know.” 

“A dick?” He asked as you both laughed. 

“Yeah.” 

There was a beat of silence before he looked at you in a way that said he was completely committed. “What do you need me to do?” he asked. You felt yourself tear up a little at this. Ever since you got diagnosed, you always imagined perfect scenarios in your head in which the guy you were with asked you that question. Of course, you always believed it would stay a fantasy. No guy would realistically care this much. But it turns out there was a guy, and he was right in front of you your entire life. You leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss, which caught him a little off-guard. 

You then leaned back and began to explain. “Usually when I do my therapy, I’ll start with some breathing exercises. And then get my dilator and some lube and just kind of, sink down on it? And then I just stay there for as long as I can. Obviously sex involves a lot more movement, which is kind of the part I’m nervous about.” 

“We can go super slow. And if it ever hurts, even a little bit, I want you to tell me, okay?”

You nodded. “Are you sure you want to? I know you just had your first kiss and I want to make sure you’re ready, too.” 

“I’m ready. I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but I’ve actually imagined this situation before… a lot,” he murmured the last part. 

You laughed, and awe’d at his cuteness. “As long as you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” 

He leaned in to kiss you again, starting slow and building in intensity. Once the kiss got heated, you grabbed his hands that were still lightly gripping your hips, and moved them down to cup your ass. He inhaled sharply and squeezed. You moved your hands from his neck down to his chest, sliding lower and lower until they were at the hem of his shirt, and then under to his bare stomach. He shivered, and then kneaded your ass harder. 

“Can I take this off?” you asked, tugging at his shirt. He nodded and leaned forward so you could pull the hem up and over his head, his hands only leaving you for a second before they resumed their previous position. 

Your own hands roamed his chest, before he slid his hands under your shirt, silently asking for you to take it off as well. Wordlessly, you reached down, gripped the bottom and pulled it off, Eli’s eyes going straight to your bra. 

“I would have worn something a little cuter if I thought we’d-”

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he cut you off. Your face turned bright red as you smiled down at your lap. “Hey,” he said as his thumb came to your chin to lift your face back up. And then he kissed you again, sucking lightly at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You started to lightly grind your hips into his, and you could immediately feel that he was already hard. His hands gripped your ass firmly, helping to guide your movements. You felt a slight pleasure between your legs, so began to grind down harder, Eli moving his own hips back up into yours. His length brushed a certain spot that made you let out a small, involuntary moan. You slapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide. He smiled, bringing his hand up to move yours off your mouth, and grinding into you even harder, with a new sense of excitement. He moved back in, but instead of bringing his lips to yours, he brought them to your neck, licking and sucking softly. You felt a rush of heat flow through you at this, never imagining that neck kisses would feel so good. 

“Oh, wow,” you whispered. You felt him smile- no, smirk, against your neck. Then, he moved one of his hands to your stomach, lightly brushing his knuckles across the skin, before untying your sweatpants. This excited you. He slowly brought his hand under the waistband, giving you plenty of time to tell him to stop. You didn’t, and he eventually felt the fabric of your underwear, opting to stay on top of them. He rubbed your center with one of his fingers clumsily. Eli obviously had never done this before, so you did your best to move your hips on his hand to try and give him the idea of what you wanted. He seemed nervous though, and didn’t really get the hint. 

“Small circles,” you instructed breathlessly. He brought his face out of your neck, furrowing his brows in concentration. He moved his fingers like you said in small circles on your left lip. You wanted to giggle, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings, opting for bringing your hand into your pants on top of his and guiding it to the right spot, moving his fingers in tight circles with slightly more pressure than he had been using right over your clit. You moaned softly at this, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows. Eli looked at you with an adorable excitement, proud that he was able to get you to make that sound, and knew that he wanted to hear it again. He got the hang of it pretty fast, and didn’t need your hand for guidance anymore, keeping the same pace and rhythm that you had shown him. 

“Oh my god, Eli,” you whispered softly in his ear, hips grinding against his hand once again. 

“Fuck,” he whispered back, more turned on than he had ever been just from watching you. At this, you brought one of your hands down to cup him through his pants. He hissed, sitting up straighter. His jeans made it hard for you to do much, though, so you said huskily, “Do you want to take them off?” He nodded, and you stood up and took your sweatpants off as he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off his legs. When he looked back at you, he saw that you were taking off your underwear too, so he did as well. 

Once he was naked and you were left in just a bra, he tentatively asked you, “Should I… get a condom?” 

You had completely forgotten about protection! That was pretty important, so you responded, “Yeah, do you have one?” 

“They handed them out in health class last month,” he said nervously, answering your implied question which was Why do you have one? He stood up, walking into his room through the doorway in the basement, returning shyly with a small silver packet. You were kneeling on the couch awkwardly, not really sure what to do, when he raked his eyes over your body. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes, one that you had never seen before in Eli. A sign of confidence hidden deep down. He suddenly stopped, as if realizing something, and said “I’ll be right back,” before running upstairs butt-naked. Thank God no one else was home! He returned with a jar of coconut oil in his hand. “I know you said you normally use lube, and I don’t really have any of that, so I thought we could use this? Or I can run to CVS and get some if you want, it’s up to you!” He added that last part hurriedly. 

You took the jar from him, opening it and gathering a small amount on your fingers before rubbing them together, testing the substance. “This should work just fine, thank you.” 

(Guys please don’t use oil as lube, it can break down the condom! Sorry for the 4th wall break!)

He looked at you for guidance, questioning, “So, how do you want to do this?” 

You looked around for a second, before deciding “You can sit down again. I think I want to be on top. Just so I have more control and stuff.” He nodded understandingly and went to sit back down on the couch, holding his hands out to you as you straddled his hips once more. 

“This?” he asked as he brought his hand up to your bra strap, slipping it down your shoulder in a wordless plea to take it off, which is exactly what you did. When your breasts were exposed, you thought Eli’s eyes were going to pop out of his head. He never thought he’d see actual boobs one day, and here they were, right in his face, attached to his naked crush who was sitting on his lap. What a day. He brought his hands up to gently cup them, making you smile at his softness.

“Having fun?” you joked. He just looked at you and giggled, nodding his head. You took the condom packet and opened it, sliding the slippery rubber out. “Do you have any idea how to use this?” You questioned with a laugh. 

“Yeah, here,” he took it from you, placing it on the tip of his dick and rolling it down the length, inhaling sharply at the feeling. He reached for the coconut oil once more and took a finger-full, melting it between his hands and spreading it all over the condom, before taking the remainder on his fingers and rubbing softly at your center. He watched your face intently for any signs of discomfort as he did so. When he found none, he brought his pointer and middle finger back to your clit, rubbing circles once again, making you let out a sigh and tip your head back. He did this for several more moments, until your hips began to writhe. 

“Okay,” you said to tell him you were ready to try. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say… please don’t be insecure about anything. Take all the time you need, and if it hurts, we can stop and I won’t be disappointed or anything. I promise. I want you to be comfortable.” 

You kissed him in response, smiling as you pulled away. “Thank you.”

You sat up on your knees, taking his dick in your hand and lining it up with your entrance, rubbing it back and forth to distribute the lubricant. You closed your eyes, taking some deep breaths to relax your muscles, and lightly sank down in his tip. You stopped about an inch in to adjust, before lifting off and sinking back down again, 2 inches this time, before stopping to adjust once more. You kept this up until you could take about half of him comfortably, realizing it was taking a long time. You opened your eyes to look at Eli, and noticed that he had his eyes closed, brows furrowed, jaw clenched, breathing labored. Jesus, he was probably dying right now. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, full of embarrassment. His eyes snapped open at this. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, embracing you. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

“It’s taking a long time and I can tell you’re not having fun,” you worried. 

“I’m having the time of my life right now, Y/N. Seriously. This is the most amazing feeling I’ve ever felt. Please don’t worry about me. This is about you.”

This was everything you really ever wanted. A guy who was giving you the time you needed to adjust and be comfortable. Why the heck were you questioning it??

You smiled lightly at his kind words, nodding your head in agreement, and then started your routine of up, down, pause, again. Several minutes later, you were fully seated on Eli’s cock. You didn’t move, instead saying “This is normally where I stop. I’m not really sure what to do now.” He brought his hands up to cup your face, kissing you softly. 

“I guess, you can stay like this for as long as you need? And then maybe we can try moving a little bit?” he answered. You nodded in response, and after a few moments, you lifted your hips and sank back down. The friction felt slightly uncomfortable, but you tried again nonetheless in an effort to power through it. This time, you felt a stinging sensation, wincing lightly but hoping Eli wouldn’t notice. He did. 

“Stop,” he muttered. 

“I can keep going,” you pleaded. 

“Y/N, I said stop.” You did. “You’re in pain,” he pointed out. 

“I’m fine,” you said, but avoided his gaze. 

“Why are you lying?” he questioned, sounding hurt, which made you finally look at him. 

“I- I… I don’t know. I want to be able to do this, but it stings,” you said sadly. 

“Well then we’ll stay just like this,” he said sweetly as he brought a hand up to pet your hair. You once again nodded, too mad at yourself to say anything. “You’re doing so good,” he added. 

Instead of answering, you leaned in to kiss him. Making out had been fun, but making out while Eli was inside you was a whole new level of intimacy. His hands wandered everywhere. First to cup your face, then down to squeeze your breasts, then to the small of your back and around to your ass. After a few minutes of this, he brought one of his hands back around and down to your center. And this boy was a fast learner. He had the exact right spot, rhythm, and pressure on the first try this time, making you moan softly into his mouth. He smiled into the kiss, proud that he got you feeling good again. He kept this up, careful not to change a thing. You felt a heat pool in your stomach, your center craving more, so you began to involuntarily grind your hips into his hand. 

You gasped as the tip of his dick put pressure on a certain spot inside you. He noticed your gasp, letting the hand that wasn’t on your clit go to your hip in an effort to guide you to grind against him some more. Once you realized this movement didn’t hurt, you rolled your hips over his. Not the up and down that you had tried before, but side to side, back and forth, and in circles. And it felt good. You began to let out small moans at the combination of the pressure inside you and the feeling of Eli’s fingers massaging you. His eyebrows began to furrow and his breathing labored. This was his first time, so the small movements you were making were enough to bring him to the edge. 

“Shit, Y/N,” he murmured. You moaned loudly in response, and the sound made Eli’s eyes roll back in his head. He had to think of the most un-sexy things just to keep himself from cumming. You guys kept at it for god knows how long, until you felt that heat in your stomach turn into a heavy knot about to unravel. 

“Eli, I think I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, almost surprised. You had not been expecting an orgasm during your first time. You kept grinding your hips at the same pace, hoping that he would keep doing exactly what he was doing with his fingers. And he did. Your moans got higher and higher in pitch as you got closer to the edge, your legs beginning to shake from the effort. Your stomach dropped, and you came hard, mouth open in a silent scream. 30 seconds later, you came down, finally opening your eyes to see Eli looking at you like you were an absolute goddess. You reached down to peel his fingers off you, the sensations becoming too much to handle. However, you kept grinding in an effort to get Eli to cum too. About a minute later, his eyes squeezed shut as his hips stuttered under you and he spilled into the condom.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the first thing he said was, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You huffed a laugh, “I’m more than okay. That was awesome.”

He looked relieved that you had had a good time, and nodded, “Yeah, totally awesome.” 

You gave him one last kiss before sitting up and pulling off of him. As you stood, your legs shook, knees threatening to give out. “Woah,” you murmured under your breath. 

“Here,” Eli said as he guided you by the waist to lay on the couch. He went into the bathroom and came out with a clean, damp towel and wiped you off as best he could before handing it to you to finish up. He gathered both of your clothes, handing yours back to you, when his phone once again buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up when his face suddenly dropped. 

“Shit. Demitri’s here.” 

You both shared a shocked look before scrambling to get dressed. Eli threw the coconut oil and condom wrapper into the bathroom, and turned to notice your neck covered in hickeys. He ran into his room, grabbing a hoodie and walking over to you, motioning for you to put your arms up. He put the hoodie on you, and pulled your hair up through the hood to cover the sides of your neck. Just then, you heard the front door open and Demitri yell “Hey guys! You better not have started without me!” He rounded the corner and came down the stairs, looking at both of you sitting on opposite sides of the couch, staring at the black TV screen just as you had been exactly 2 hours ago. He plopped down on the couch in between you guys and grabbed the remote, switching it on. When he went to put it back on the coffee table, he noticed a small scrap of fabric on the floor. He bent down, grabbed, and held up your underwear. 

“Ok, what the fuck did I miss?”

[cigarettesandslushies]

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms 

word count: 1,700 

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

[balillee]

my unpopular dsmp opinions, some of which genuinely should be popular

c!dream has crossed the moral event horizon and is irredeemable. once you cross that threshold, you're no longer a 'morally grey' character.

pre-recorded, heavily produced lore killed the lore. it was cool, sure, but you completely misunderstand the magic that the smp had when people watched it initially. the story is improv and that's how we like it. we can tell the cc's have lost interest in it, you can admit that to us, we'll understand, just stop lying to me.

c!dream's pov isn't necessary to understand his character or his motivations. if you've watched literally any c!primeboys stream he's basically spelled it out for you.

i don't understand how fans can dislike l'manberg or have claimed to be against it since the beginning. i honestly don't get it. what's so bad about wanting your own spot where you make your own rules and skirt accountability that has been used to technically oppress you before - and, before someone who never saw the earlier streams tries to disagree with this, the og l'manberg crew were imprisoned for shit that everyone else on the server was practically encouraged to do. also, what do you have against fun and happiness?

i think some of you forget that 'hybrids' aren't a thing, discounting c!ranboo. there's no piglin hybrids, c!techno is just a pig. there's no avian hybrids, c!phil is just a man with wings. there's no creeper hybrids, c!sam is just a creeper who's indecently exposed from the hips down. canonically there's no hybrids, and therefore no hybrid discrimination. people ran with that concept too much.

the loss and the fanon rewriting of the early lore up until pogtopia has ruined fandom perception of c!dream and the og l'manberg boys. c!tommy is more morally white than you think he is, and c!dream has always been a villain - he massacres and he kills and he destroys and he schemes and he always has broken his own rules. no wonder the boys wanted their own space after how they were treated.

i think ranboo oftentimes forgets his own lore. he brings stuff up that c!ranboo may have done, such as exploding the community house to frame c!tommy, holding onto Cat, and it goes absolutely nowhere. we've gotten all of these developments in his story but they have never been expanded on, and we're nowhere closer to figuring out his relationship to c!dream and what his other side is and honestly i see no hope that we'll be any closer to knowing even by the end of the year.

your characters don't all have to be morally grey for the story itself to be morally grey. this is fiction - some people can be nothing but evil and others can be nothing but good. being purely good or evil doesn't mean that you're one dimensional, either.

c!dream apologists have ruined c!dream for me. he's not a good person. how about you let me enjoy a villain for who he actually is, rather for than your percieved woobified ragdoll you pass off as c!dream.

the story was better when there was a central writer. it was brilliant back when wilbur wrote it to be that the environment drives the characters and the story, and it was really good in early s2 up until techno's execution day when it was more character driven. since then, the amount of autonomy people have over their characters without any central 'director', as it were, has been a detriment to the story overall. there needs to still be one overarching figure or director or writer.

not everyone is a main character. just because they have a pov, doesn't mean they're a main character. some characters have such little impact on the overall plot and describing everyone as a main character oversaturates the story and makes some characters seem more important than they are.

the egg lore had so much potential up until it didn't. all that built up threat that we were expecting and we still don't even know what the egg wants really other than just controlling people. does it hatch?

genuinely, if there's no major plot developments by the end of the year (and let's be honest, it's a very big possibility at this point), a few of the more prominent members of the server should do a podcast style stream talking about where the story would have gone, because at least then we would have gotten somewhat closer to a conclusion.

c!techno is a villain and an asshole and a bad person. he stops caring for people once their interests don't align with his or if they look at him funny. he makes meta-jokes about his own tyrannical and oppressive nature. stop taking that away from him. he's a bad person. cc!techno does a fabulous job portraying that in a comedic manner and the balancing of him being a deeply flawed person with deeply flawed morals and ideas with his comedically-portrayed stubbornness and lack of willingness to hear out opposing viewpoints is incredible. i want to like characters who are arseholes for the sake of being arseholes, and who refuse to take into account the hurt they've caused either out of self-righteousness or because they don't care, so let me. he's the anti-peacemaker, LET ME HIM ENJOY HIM FOR THAT!!!!

i think tommy and wilbur's way of doing lore is my favourite. relies heavily on improv, voice acting, sprite acting and facial expressions. really shows off the acting props and they pull off the emotional moments well for the insanity of the creative medium.

i'm not a fan of fan-music. i find songs about media i'm into difficult to listen to. coincidentally i'm also not a fan of shit like slam poetry or live music/musicals/pantomimes.

the death of l'manberg killed people's motivation to go on the server casually. i've talked about it more in depth before, but destroying what was a central, driving environment for the story killed momentum and motivation. imagine in an episode of she-ra, the princess alliance just nuke the freight zone and all of the members of the horde just have to deal with it. that would be shit.

until season 3 has some momentum, i'm counting the end of the smp as january 20th. that had a conclusion. season 3 has... whores, technoblade and tommyinnit. that's about it.

i wasn't a fan of the development of c!tubbo joining las nevadas. i preferred snowchester and the walled city conflict. give c!tubbo some backbone and some badassery. also tubbo where's the fucking nuke bro if you're shelving that plotline just tell us on like an alt stream what the plan was i beg

add like 2 or 3 new people to the server so that michael mcchill has someone to talk to and so that there's something always happening on the server. it gives the og's more motivation to return if things are happening in and out of canon and it'll help with momentum, and who knows? maybe they can write their own story/stories.

i really think that c!sam is an underrated character. he's multilayered, extremely interesting, and the dichotomy of his loyalty to his job and how far down the rabbithole that's taken him versus the genuine love he has for his friends that drives him to do what he does out of wanting to do right by them is brilliant. i don't talk about c!sam enough.

STOP HAVING FUCKING VILLAIN ARCS!!! I'M FUCKIN SICK OF IT!!!! i want to see more characters who see everyone else being absolute selfish, abhorrent cunts and go 'if nobody else is going to be a good person, i fucking will'. GIVE ME SOME MORAL WHITENESS!!! IT'S INTERESTING AND MORALLY GOOD CHARACTERS ARE FUN!!!

let tommyinnit build cobblestone towers. everyone bullied him too much for how ugly they were and the one he built outside of the prison looked genuinely really nice. it gives the boy something to do.

i'm a fan of the revive book and the canon lives system. don't ask me why, but i think it might just be the morbidity of it. it adds to c!dream's god complex persona, and i think the fragility of death itself is a really fun concept. not enough fan cc's have made connections with that and c!mumza, and it could make for cool fanfic.

ranboo your house is fucking ugly. it's an eyesore

c!niki, and to some extent now c!jack and c!fundy, are boring me and ruining my mood. i think c!jack is the closest to being an actually interesting sympathetic villain, mainly because nobody else seems to realise that c!niki is a villain. not a good one imo, but she's a villain. c!jack just has the problem of starting a new project over and over and over and over again and because of the slow in momentum for the primary cast, there hasn't been a lot of recent development for him.

not really a dream smp opinion, but if philza went full geordie accent, i would love it. i want him to, in canon, say shit like 'me n ye' instead of 'me and you' and use geordie dialect. i want him to be physically unintelligible because it's funny.

i don't really know what's up with c!foolish but i think he's a dumbass. he had a while to think about c!q's proposal and then changed his mind about joining the guy to admitted to letting him die just because. moron

i wish there was more c!eret lore. i wish he was an actual king with an actual kingdom and actual subjects and royal advisors. c!eret is far too fucking cool to be the king of nothing and nobody. fatten up the kingdom and the castle with people who work with c!eret, and don't just make it tyrannical and dictator-y to prove the point of the server's 'anarchists'. make it a healthy working environment, please - if you want moral greyness, have 'anarchists' who claim to care about the welfare of the server oppose a kingdom of happy people under a fair and just ruler because their ideologies clash.

the server needs more characters who oppose anarchy in more peaceful ways, or passively wish for systems to be a part of. i think a chaos vs order conflict ending only in mutual understanding where everyone understands that they should just leave each other alone would slot nicely into the story that's been created so far.

you need to have watched all of the previous arcs to understand the story. i've seen people argue that they don't need to know about earlier lore to understand the prison, but that's the equivalent of only watching the final season of pretty little liars and expecting to understand the context of what's going on.

some characters aren't that morally grey. some characters, take c!tommy for example, are definitely on the whiter side for the morality scale, he's just an asshole. he's abrasive and rude and a dickhead but he also doesn't agree with terrorism, he's patriotic, he strives for a better world, he's apologetic, but he's also a fucking BITCH.

you can add onto this if you want, but not if you're a c!dream apologist. nobody likes your opinions

[qjhughes]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.�� You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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(If you’re crossed out it’s because it wouldn’t let me tag you)

[kulemii]

any advice for this dumbass hoe?

so, a mutual reblogged someones fanart for a fandom that i don't recognize. the art was gorgeous and the subject was out of this world. i liked it but didn't reblog it because it just wouldn't fit here. anyway, my initial instinct was to leave a reply that was basically:

"WHO IS SHE AND WHY IS SHE HOT?! OMG GREAT ART OP!"

i deleted it before even posting the reply because i remembered seeing a post that said if you leave a sorta aggressive joking reply on a user's post that you've never interacted with, it comes off as rude and to just not do it. so, i left my like and went on my merry way.

but i haven't stopped thinking about it. i feel like i made the right call by avoiding leaving that reply but i know how i feel when i get stuff like that on my writing and it makes me so happy! but i know everyone doesn't think or process things like me.

when i'm feeling manic i have a habit of just 'inserting myself' in conversations online that have nothing to do with me just to joke around and hopefully gain a new friend out of it. i've recently opened myself up to interacting more with others in the fandom and it's been such a thrilling experience! i finally remember what it's like to really be apart of an online community.

and alot of these new friendships came from just interacting with people's posts at random and then if they are receptive, i try chatting with them more in private. again, it's been amazing and a great deal of fun!

but sometimes i remember the post i read and i suddenly feel like an asshole and go a mass deleting spree. removing replies. deleting certain reblogs and it's just an all around mental nightmare.

i have awful social anxiety and paired with bipolar ii disorder, i'm in a constant loop of ACT-REGRET-ACT-REGRET and i can't tell if it's warranted or if it's my head messing with me.

can someone tell me if i'm overthinking this? or if i'm right and i should be more careful? or whatever it is that you think! i am open to criticism. i just don't want to unintentionally ruin anyone's day, ya know?

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐕 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐕 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐕𝐈

now, this is tooru’s business.

word count : 1.3k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀the last people tooru expected to ever hear from again, besides you, were any of his third year teammates. maybe his underclassmen had it in them to forgive him eventually, but not issei and takahiro. they had all the right reason to not forgive him for his actions. they, just like hajime, had doted on you quite often during the season. while they weren't obsessive over it, they both visibly appreciated your presence.

⠀way more than he did at the time, anyway.

⠀he was almost scared as the two of them approached him during lunch. oikawa stopped showing up to the cafeteria and began enjoying his lunches in silence at the library, as many social outcasts choose to do. he didn't think that their motive for going to the library was to see him of all people, but his mind began to race as they began walking towards him at a surprisingly quick pace - their faces were anything but pleasant.

⠀"makki? mattsun?" tooru's body initiated his fight or flight instincts as both of them stood at his sides, making it impossible for him to just stand up and leave. "what are you doing here? i didn't do anything, did i?" he really hoped he didn't make another mistake. the last thing he wanted was to be remembered for nothing more than his shortcomings as a boyfriend.

⠀"no, not this time." mattsun replied in a hushed whisper, shaking his head. "but there's something going on that no one on the team likes. we don't know if you already know or not, but given your past with y/n, we figured you'd be interested."

⠀he hesitated at the mention of your name. of course he was interested in anything that had to do with you. what could possibly be going on with you that would be so important for him of all people to know about? the other two third years were uncharacteristically serious for their usual joking demeanors, but he was too nervous to say anything more.

⠀oikawa was additionally surprised to watch both them take a seat on both sides of him, leaning in closer to ensure only he was able to hear what they were saying. tooru leaned back slightly, his stomach running in circles with the suspicious activity going on. were they going to prank him? go through all this just to call him a loser? if so, he didn't want to be part of it. he had already messed up with you again, that was all the confirmation he needed that he was just a downright idiot. damn him and his stupid bad habits. if only he knew how to control his temper, this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

⠀"do you want the news just thrown in your face, or do you want us to discreetly tell you?" makki crossed his arms and leaned over the table, throwing the seijoh captain out of his deep thought. "doesn't really matter, bad news is bad news. we're probably going to ruin your day with this."

⠀really, what could be worse than this? "just tell me," was all he could muster.

⠀"iwaizumi and y/n are dating."

⠀what?

⠀tooru almost fell out of his seat as the blood rushed throughout his body like a tidal wave, both anger and astonishment crashing together furiously. he almost screamed but bit down on his tongue due to their current location. both makki and mattsun noticed the sudden shift in oikawa's behavior, and nodded their heads as if to agree with his reaction.

⠀"yahaba told me today. kindaichi apparently made small talk with iwaizumi, where the big news was revealed." mattsun continued without letting either brunet peer reply, "and frankly, it's very strange. all of it. but i'm pretty sure the only ones who have been suspicious of the relationship are us."

⠀oikawa was livid. whatever control he had over his temper, had been thrown long gone by now. his face glowed with an underlying red hue, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as he rest them on the table. he wasn't mad at you - he was mad at iwaizumi. hajime. he did something to manipulate you into a relationship. he did something to you to result in this outcome.

⠀and this was all oikawa’s fault.

⠀"this is bullshit," he seethed, shaking his head in an incredulous matter. "there's no way this was mutual. it can't be." curiously, he turned to the other two with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes narrowed in their direction. "why aren't you happy about their relationship? isn't this what all of you wanted ever since i..." hurt her? his voice got caught in his throat before he could finish.

⠀"don't get us wrong. you're still a complete asshole for how you treated y/n in the past. nothing will change that." it was like a hammer hit straight into oikawa's chest. "however... it's more complicated with iwaizumi. more complicated than what we would like it to be."

⠀realistically, it shouldn't be complicated at all. oikawa knew that. he was never the nicest to you, but he truly had no ill intentions when it came to your well being. now that he was stripped of whatever pride and dignity he had during the volleyball season, he realized that even though he had no ill intention, it still hurt you. that's what hurt tooru the most.

⠀"...complicated?"

⠀"i'm sure you've heard that iwaizumi has refused to tell y/n of her... past. and she doesn't remember anything either, which works to his advantage." makki began listing down points with his finger. "she asked us, she asked the team, she's asked iwaizumi way more times that i can count with both hands and toes. hell, i'm pretty sure she's asked you, too."

⠀you have, but tooru had his own reasons for hesitating.

⠀"she's been pretty stubborn about what she wants, and actually pretty pissed that no one refuses to tell her anything. then all of a sudden she comes back to seijoh with iwaizumi after a normal weekend, hand-in-hand and happy as can be." makki shook his head at the thought of it. "something doesn't add up. maybe it's not our business to butt in, but that's what's been going on."

⠀"what do you want me to do about it?" the lonely third year leaned back against his seat once more, more frustrated than anything. "i thought all of you didn't want me near y/n anymore. now you're telling me this, and for what?"

⠀"truth be told oikawa, this was just an impulse decision on both our parts." mattsun sighed and stood up, stretching his legs a bit. makki followed suit. "even though it's suspicious, it's really not our business. everyone else seems to be content with it, especially with what y/n's been going through. it's almost meant to be at this point."

⠀ouch, another strike to the heart. "but," the rose-haired peer interjected, "even though it's not our business, it most certainly is yours, isn't it? after all, you still haven't been able to officially break up with her yet, huh? and don't you have bad blood with iwaizumi now?" he shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side.

⠀just how much did these two know? "no," oikawa mumbled quietly, "i haven't been able to."

⠀"anyways, the bell's gonna ring soon. you're in the loophole now, so you decide what to do with the information." mattsun walked up to tooru and grabbed him by the blazer, pulling the captain up to his feet before whispering quietly, "and if you have any sense of redemption left in you, it would probably be in your best interest to see what the hell is going on with hajime iwaizumi. maybe you'll get a sense of closure in the process."

⠀tooru could only nod in retaliation to this sudden confrontation, and mattsun gently let go of his blazer before giving him a quick nod. as quickly as the two of them arrived, they had already disappeared into the hallways by the time the bell rang.

⠀the frustration followed him like a raincloud for the rest of the day.

⠀y/n, what has hajime iwaizumi done to you?

a/n : i got nothin’ to say for ya today, so enjoy!

taglist ( closed ) — @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @karaseijoh @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch @readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan @catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammers @todohawki

+ continued in the comments!

[madamtrashbat]

A couple of thoughts

We doin' okay, Cats family? We're good? Good. I have one last thing to add.

This is kinda about pro- and anti-shippers, but it's really more about fandom culture in general and just my experiences. You can read it, if you want, or not.

Up to you.

I've been doin' this for a while. A good fifteen years at least, closer probably to sixteen. I've been doing things in fandom for longer than some of my mutuals have been alive.

(Oh Jesus)

And there's something I gotta tell you guys, both as a person who has been doing fandom-y stuff for years and for someone who literally has college degrees in English Literature and Creative Writing.

Being an anti is not normal.

And I know that comes across as harsh and mean and it sounds unreasonable but I'd like to explain what I mean by that.

I can trace back being an anti to two main sources: Voltron and Star Wars. I was never into Voltron or really even around anyone who was but I remember the screaming and fighting over the ships, and I remember the hellish crusade that began when people dared to ship Rey and Kylo Ren together. It was nasty, guys. It was absolutely insane that suddenly people were doing this over fictional ships, that people were being sent actual abuse and hatred because someone wanted the broody shitlord man and the unwashed desert scrounger to smooch. Like... imagine that in real time.

I was not, nor have I ever been, a Reylo shipper, but you know what I did, when that ship began, and I didn't like it? I ignored it and went about my day. Because that's how I was taught. Nothing in the fiction world was worth fighting over. It was not worth getting into arguments over. What was the point?

Then the antis got bolder, started branching out, and when people like me started standing up and saying, "Hey, stop being a dick to people!" someone hired the world's best PR machine and suddenly people who were not antis were pedophiles and abusive and incestuous.

How's that for some whiplash.

This anti movement of berating, bullying, harming, and threatening has been their MO, and it's dangerous. And now, they all buy their own bullshit. They actually think people like me are all out here twisting our mustaches like Snidely Whiplash and diddling kids. Without a shred of irony, they believe this.

Proship only labeled itself that as a response to the antiship, and antiship, make no mistake, named itself first. It was not anti-pedophile. It was not anti-incest. It was not anti-abuse.

It was all about disliking fictional ships that other people enjoyed, and thus attacking people over it.

And it's pointless. It's driven a child to suicide. It has gotten people fired. It has ruined careers, livelihoods, friendships. For nothing. For a boogeyman that doesn't exist.

Sex experts across the board all agree that what gives us our jollies is not at all what we want in real life. There's some wild statistic like 70% of women have had a sexual fantasy about rape at least once in their lives. About rape! That act that most AFAB people have a deep ingrained fear of! And we've used it to get off! Because sexual fantasy isn't that deep. Our brains are idiots. And since time immemorial, we as humans have written just the most fucked up shit.

It's even in the Bible. Humans have been nasty forever. And it doesn't mean shit.

It's in the TV shows. It's in our movies. It's in our books. It's in our music, our podcasts, everything. Being an anti is not the way of humanity at all. Ever. Except for like... maybe the puritans but they sucked so who cares about them.

Antis believe a lie. They believe a lie and they hurt people for it. I am not in any way, shape, or form exaggerating when I say I am fearful for those who regularly interact with me, because I am worried that one day the art they make or the "clout" they carry isn't going to be enough to save them from their friendship with me and antis will tear them to shreds. Because that is how they behave. They may not think they're bullies, and they may think they're in the right, but I want you to look up the Youtube RPF kid who killed themselves over anti harassment. Look at that horrible ask I just got. This is how they behave.

And that is what proshippers stand against. It's a stance against bullying, harassment, threats. That is it. There are plenty of proshippers out in the world that would never, ever think of writing anything involving someone underage, or between relatives, or involving anything gruesome. Because that's not what it's about.

Antis are new in the world of fandom, and they are the absolute root of toxicity. I do not exaggerate. They waste the time of agencies actually trying to eradicate CSAM by sending them art someone drew of a teenage character that isn't real. They've driven people to suicide. They've outright admitted to not caring about actual humans as much as they care about fictional ships. They have shown time and time again that they are not above abuse, vitriol, and bullying. There are blogs that post stories from ex-antis who say they were afraid to say anything different than their anti friends for fear of righteous backlash.

I repeat: I am legitimately afraid that my friends are going to get dogpiled and harassed because they dare to be my friend. That fear is not baseless. And it's all because of the way antis act.

I am liberal with the block button. I try to maintain boundaries because I don't want to see any of that shit as much as they don't want to see any of mine (though only a very scant few actually block me back, which is a joke in and of itself). But it still slips through. And I hate it, every time I see it.

Because this is not the way we're supposed to be. We are not supposed to be at odds with each other. We are supposed to share and have fun and be joyful about some people in lycra.

But because some people wanted to put on the pilgrim hat and play Morality Council to someone who's been doing this for years, I gotta tiptoe around people that think I'm actually out in the world diddling children. Do you know how fucked up that is. Do you know how that feels? To not only have someone make that judgment without any evidence, but to tell it to other people who don't know me either?

When someone finally snaps and starts biting back, it's not out of nowhere. And antis never, ever see themselves as doing something wrong. But they are. They are wrong.

Can I let you in on a little secret?

Seriously, just between you and me, come here.

If you think it's wrong to bully someone because of fiction, then you're proship. That is the long and short of it. No more or less. I hate to break it to you, but that is the only definition, and anyone who says it's something else is lying to you for their own gain.

And sure, there are lots of people who try to hide behind the proship label as they do shitty things. But antis do the same. Humans being assholes and trying to blame it on something else is not new.

The fact that people have come to me and told me that the antis have made them feel uncomfortable, that they're afraid if they do something they might view as negative they might receive hate, that people are actually AFRAID of people in this fandom, is not okay.

There was a fandom I was involved in where one of the prominent people actively hated me and I was never afraid of what she would do. I am afraid of the antis in this fandom, though. Because they have teeth and they like to use them.

Fandom isn't supposed to be like this. Nobody should be screaming at teenagers for talking to adults in fandom, infantilizing them like they're not a whole autonomous human. Nobody should be telling someone to kill themselves because they ship Tuggerstrap. Nobody should be afraid of the other people in their fandom.

Antis, if any of them even read this (I doubt it, but just in case), I want you to look around. The people who are neutral are not afraid of what the proshippers will say to them. They are afraid of you. You and your ilk are the ones causing the damage, and you are the outliers in the entire world of fiction. You're a loud minority that thinks it knows better when it knows absolutely nothing.

Ruminate on that.

My blog is still a safe space from bullying, abuse, and nastiness. If someone is being mean to you, you will always find a friend here. And if you can't say the same, then what's wrong with you?

Be excellent to each other. Stop making people afraid.

And sit down and ask yourself what it is you really want when you make vague posts about people and tell people vicious, awful things. What are you hoping to gain.

[jojosbizarrefanfics]

I like how you are writing Dabi in your fic! Do you do the NSFW alphabet? Maybe your take on that with him?

Thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying Eyes Blue!

I’ll write the NSFW alphabet, sure - here’s Dabi coming right up!

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Not as much of an aloof jerk as you’d think. He’s actually fairly attentive, massaging your hips and thighs while he tells you how good you were for him after a particularly rough fucking.

He needs quite a bit of aftercare, too, and once he trusts you enough, he’ll even ask you to help him make sure he didn’t fuck up any of his staples. If he’s getting an infection, it’ll be from a fight, not sex.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Caress his biceps with tender loving care (especially while he’s fucking you missionary style) and he is putty in your hands.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He gets a thrill in watching you either swallow his cum or watching you lay beneath him as he covers you with his cum. It’s a bit of a possessive thing, but not to an unhealthy degree.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He acts the role of commandeering dom very convincingly, but deep down, he really just wants to be a sweet sub for you and have you take care of him. Won’t admit to this until there’s full trust and he’s had a very shitty day.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

I know a lot of the fandom thinks Dabi is the king of one night stands, but I disagree. Dabi knows what he’s doing and is fantastic in bed because he can pick up on your cues and is great at reading you, but his body count is fairly low.

F= Favorite position

Anything that allows him to see your face; he likes to watch your expressions as you cum. He’s otherwise not picky.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

I wouldn’t say he’s goofy in bed, but will wisecrack and not take himself entirely too seriously from time to time.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Given his burned skin situation, there’s not a ton of body hair for him to have to maintain.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Dabi is fairly rough, but not extremely so — he has his moments where sometimes he just enjoys to feel a connection with someone. He’s been deprived of it for so long that it hits him like a dump truck sometimes as you make love and he just can’t help it.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Jerks off before bed if you’re not available as a form of stress relief. Cheaper than therapy, right?

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Orgasm control, bondage, dom/sub relationship (he’s a secret switch that plays dom very well), and he’s a bit of an exhibitionist in the sense that while he doesn’t necessarily need others to see him fucking you, he definitely gets a thrill in knowing Shigaraki won’t sleep that night.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Anywhere and everywhere. Especially if there’s a slight risk of getting caught.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Act innocent and only a little submissive. It’ll turn him on to no end at the idea of completely ruining you.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

This is probably another hot take, but he won’t do anything that would cause physical pain to his partner or himself. He’s got a lot of trauma to unpack and the last thing he wants is to unpack it by accidentally triggering himself while he’s trying to have sex, thank you very much.

Also, nothing regarding bodily functions. He’s got sensitive skin what with those burns, and a golden shower is the last thing he needs.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Receiving: has been known to face fuck you from time to time. He gets really into it and can’t help himself, but will be respectful if you gag and slow it down.

Giving: extremely skilled with his mouth. Loves to eat you out only to bring you to the brink of an orgasm and then deny you of it. Loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair while he’s between your legs.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He lasts a while, especially considering how much build up there is, but once he’s inside you he doesn’t last terribly long. His pace varies with his mood and what types of kinks you’re experimenting with.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He doesn’t prefer quickies, but given his lifestyle, they’re semi-frequent. He’s learned to make the most of them with some rougher fun.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Dabi will try anything at least once (within reason) if he trusts you enough.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

He could go three times in a day if you have a quickie, but since he likes to draw things out with some orgasm denial, typically just once or twice a day.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

If he trusts you (as aforementioned), he’d be willing to let you try some toys on him. He especially enjoys tying you up, blindfolding you, and edging you with a vibrator and then leaving you to wonder when he’ll finally finish the job if he’s got League business to attend to. Don’t worry - he eventually gets around to it and doesn’t leave you hanging there too long. He’s not that much of an asshole.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Dabi will deny you an orgasm for the sport of it. He loves to make you beg and say his name. He won’t admit it, but he loves when you exhibit the confidence to return the favor from time to time - even if he has to punish you for that later to maintain his reputation.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He lays the dirty talk on pretty thick. More of a groaner in bed than anothing else when he’s feeling pleasure, though

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

The fastest way to gain Dabi’s full trust in the bedroom are little thoughtful things: be mindful of his skin as to not accidentally hurt him, praise him after a long day, wear lingerie you think he may like, etc.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Slightly above average length with an average girth. It’s definitely impressive, but no so big of a cock that it hurts. Just right!

I know a lot of people headcanon him with dick piercings, but given how sensitive all of his skin must be (not just the burned parts), I actually don’t think he does. If it’s not burned and he doesn’t need a staple, I imagine he’d like to keep his dick perfectly in tact.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Very high sex drive if the right person is in his life. But it’s not so high that it interferes with his overall goals

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He will never admit it, but is prone to passing out not long after sex. He gets a bit more cuddly in his post-sex sleepy state than he’d care to admit

[honesthammie]

Thought I'd start doing some prompts, im gonna do them all eventually but I'd thought I'd share some I've seen or thought of on my own with other writers that may need inspiration.

Look in the tabs for fandoms and characters i will do, hopefully.

1)"Look, I'm glad you've saved everyone and all that, but it's time someone told you to take care of you."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, and furthermore, if you don't take care of you, think of all the people who need you in the future who won't have you!"

2) Reader accidently get sent to Hell instead of Heaven. The King of Hell tells you to make yourself at home while he sorts it out with God. Little did you realise how much you liked it there

3)"On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

"At least a twenty."

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

5) "What do you see when you look at me?"

6) Everyone is born with 2 tattoos that has a symbol on each wrist. One for their soulmate and another for their biggest enemy. The reader only has 1.

7)"Why are you still here?"

"Because I care about you, you asshole."

8)"Your hair is so soft.."

9) "It's too cold! Come back!"

10) "No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

11) "C'mere, you can sit in my lap until i'm done working."

12)"I'm not going to stop poking you until you

give me some attention."

13) "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

14) "What? does that feel good?"

15)"Just pretend to be my date."

16)"He/She did it." "No he/she did."

17) "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

18)“No no-it's alright, come here."

19)"I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise."

20) Everyone has a guardian angel. Except the reader. Something went wrong in system and now you're stuck with a guardian Demon. Fortunately, they seem more effective at helping you succeed.

21)"I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

22)"I am way too sober for this."

23)"If I go through with this, I die. If I don't go through with this, we all die."

24)"Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Treating me like a person."

25)"What the heck is that?!"

"My cat."

"Cats don't have eight legs!"

26)"Hey, I didn't kill anyone today!"

"What do you want? A gold star?"

27)His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones.

28)"Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me?"

"Because you're in shock."

"That doesn't mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze."

29)"I can't believe you haven't killed each other yet."

"We shared a room together in (enter what type of school here). If we could survive that, we could survive anything."

30)"Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture"

31)"How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?"

32)"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Seriously? I have worse nightmares about failing my exams"

33)"What is that THING in your backpack?"

"It's my new pet dragon."

"Dragons aren't real!"

"Then why is there one in my backpack?"

34)"I had a thought."

"Oh no."

"I swear it's a good one this time!"

35)"Are you there?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally is debatable."

36)"Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?"

"I don't know, I probably both."

37)“Are you SURE I can't punch him in the face?"

"Yes."

"What if I just break his nose a little?"

38)"It's a long story."

"You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time."

39)"Death wants you to be terrified, but the scariest thing is wanting death."

40)"What's our exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Oh my god, we're all I going to die."

41)"How's the meeting?"

"I want to stab everyone."

"Don't get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven."

"Love you for enabling me."

"Love you too."

42)"What can I do to make you feel beautiful as as you look to me?"

43)"Once hope becomes a symbol, you cannot kill it. Give it a name, and it will never truly die. You have to dismantle it and let the world watch on as it crumbles in on itself."

44)"Don't you have a country to run?"

"My favorite person is in the hospital, the people can wait."

"I don't think it works like that."

"I rule over them, so it does."

45)"Are you really still a princess if your kingdom is in ruins? If there is no one left to rule over but corpses?"

46) Reader stealing lovers clothes

47)"How did you do that?"

"Maybe if you spent less time rambling you'd have figured it out"

48)"You-you are-"

"Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented"

"Dangerous."

49)"And if the world thinks it can keep us apart, then it hasn't been paying attention because there is nothing, nothing! wouldn't do just to I stay by your side."

50)Take apart every word I've ever said, strip me of every action I've ever taken. Then know, for certain, that mean it when I tell you I love you."

51)"Do you trust her?"

"No. but I ... trust her anger."

52)"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

53)"Where's your shoe?"

"The giant mud puddle demanded a sacrifice"

54)"People can do can worse things than kill you."

55)"Give my regards to the Devil."

"I will."

"And remind him that he still owes me fifty bucks for helping him out that one time."

56)"Hate to break it to you, but we're both someone else's science experiment."

57)"Timing is key"

"Says the one thats always late"

58)"Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge."

"Can I pick?"

59)"This? These tears? They are not a weakness. They show how strong you are and how strong you've been. And when you're done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible."

60)"Act natural."

"For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic."

"NO, that's not what I meant! Act like it's a normal day!"

"My 'normal' days of late, consist of a lot of panic."

"Will you just cooperate?"

"When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!"