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inktheblot · 2 years

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Something I thought might be interesting was if Optimus and June had an opportunity for a "we have unresolved feelings, that we don't feel like we can talk about For Reasons, regarding our shitty exes who walked out on us" bonding moment. @guesso13 and I discussed it for a while and ended up using another "give OP a day off for the love of god" type idea we had to set the scene to spur on such a conversation.

So to start off, there's a couple things going on at base. In one corner we have Ratchet and Wheeljack (I for one don't believe that Engineer Wheeljack and Wrecker Wheeljack are at all irreconcilable, and think that actively being part of a team again, and specifically this team, would come with opportunities to bring that side of him out again, but I digress) begrudgingly working together to try to improve their (currently pretty minimal) holomatter technology to outfit all the Autobots with, for better disguise from humans and Decepticons alike: better texturing, further operating radius, more options, the whole shebang. In another, Optimus has been listening in on/assisting with Jack, Miko, and Raf as they work on some reading for school. In the midst of all the chaos that's wracked their lives recently, the team collectively wants to encourage some semblance of normal routine/priorities for the young humans, and with most of the others' areas of expertise actively required elsewhere, OP ends up being the one this falls to more often than not. Which, honestly, he finds himself more than fine with. Beyond simply caring for these individuals, the insight into human history, culture, literature, etc., has been fascinating and exciting for him. When was the last time he simply got to take joy in being invested in a novel? Sure, he has to use the fact that It's For The Wellbeing Of The Team™️ to even begin to allow himself to "indulge" in such an interest, but like, it's a step.

June witnesses one of these little study sessions once, and she's endeared by how much the big guy is visibly enjoying himself (and also his genuinely really good discussion/questions/analysis). She laughs and comments that she wishes she could bring him to a book club sometime, a statement meant and taken as an affectionate joke. Or would have been, but enter Wheeljack with a good ol' "Maybe you CAN!" The holomatter program is complete, and though it's proven to be safe and effective in-house and on standard, uneventful patrols, still could use some further testing out in the field. It would be fantastic if they could prove that the avatar could pass as a human among other humans, not just for a brief glance going down the freeway but in actual social situations, as well as fully separate from the vehicle body. And nobody's going to word it like this, it's going to continue to be covered in very Duty-First Language™️, but Prime deserves a day off and the simple act of talking about books has made him seem happier, more relaxed, more like himself and not just what thousands of years of traditional and religious and military expectations want him to be, in anyone's recent -- or not-so recent -- memory. So what if he does go along with June, in his brand-new human disguise? Seems like a win-win for all parties involved. If something does go wrong he can bail, with several Actual Humans™️ on call to cover for him.

The new algorithm, in attempt to be more convincing and less AI Uncanny Valley, works similarly to Brainstorm's from MTMTE: pulling from the 'Bot in question's individual personality to create their avatar. One detail that Optimus notices as he inspects "himself" takes him aback: a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. He knows by now what the significance of this is for humans... and it's something he Definitely Does Not Want To Draw Attention To. Why did the program decide this was so important, of all things?? He tries to remove it, but the generation does not work the same way as removable human apparel, and won't budge. So he simply hopes that he'll find himself among a "Too Polite To Ask" sort of crowd, and returns himself to "The Mission".

June does notice, whether while they're still at base or after the drive to her friend's house, and she does wonder about it (A randomly generated detail, or is it symbolic? Does he have a spouse out there somewhere? Did he lose them in the war? Do giant robot aliens even get married?) but knowing how much it took to get Optimus even to this point of emotional openness, she decides firmly not to press it.

The tension looses up as the evening goes on. Maybe he's just really getting into character, maybe it's the company, maybe the topic of conversation, maybe the physical separation from the Matrix, but Optimus is having fun despite himself. Everything is going swimmingly and nobody suspects a thing. Companions! Humor! Literature! Is this what being alive used to feel like, before the war? Wild. The book club members are all enamored with June's "new friend, Orion" -- so polite, so smart, so handsome! Maybe someone even gets a little flirty, until it's pointed out: oh, stop that, look, he's married!

June's blood freezes a little as the questions completely veer away from the novel and onto the "Mystery Wife". She grits her teeth. This could turn bad fast. She just wanted Optimus to enjoy himself! He's never going to speak to any of them again after this! Quick, hurry, come up with a convenient excuse so they can both GTFO of there...

But Optimus, to her surprise, doesn't refuse the flurry of questions. He leans back and leaps into a heartfelt and tragic tale of foreign brothers who became something more, nothing contradicting with his human-military-flavored fabricated backstory. How this person inspired him. How his favorite color was purple. How he, too, would have loved the story they're discussing this evening. It seems to June that her earlier suspicions had been right; he had lost someone in the war, someone who... if not his partner by quite the same human institution of marriage, meant about the same in terms of depth of love and commitment. Maybe it's not a bad thing they asked. Maybe this disguise, this degree of separation, was finally allowing him to talk about and process this loss. It must be so hard for him -- it's been hard for all the Autobots, she knows, but Prime in particular really has to be strong for everyone, to put on the brave face, to lead everyone else despite everything that he's going through. Maybe he really needed this, more than they both knew.

When they finally leave the house, Optimus doesn't immediately return to his truck -- his body -- to drive home as June expected. Rather, he sits down with her in her car, an altogether human expression of emotional exhaustion on his face. She decides not to start the engine just yet; not only does she not know how far the avatar can "survive" away from the body, she also gets the sense that he Needs A Minute. Gently she offers the traditional Earthling phrase of sympathy: "I'm so sorry for your loss."

The immediate reply is a bitter "Hah!" of a laugh, a sound the likes of which she'd never heard from the Prime before, something that she'd think would be far more suited to Ratchet or Arcee. Then quickly, perhaps self-consciously, he recomposes himself, explains that he understands and appreciates the human expression, but the man ('Bot?) he had spoken of isn't dead. Then another strange sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh (unless his form is glitching?) and he amends, "Or, well. Maybe the one I knew is dead."

Ah. Another sort of loss. One June herself knows all too well.

She's not sure where to go from here. Offer further comfort? Advice? Ask for more details so she can better know what to say? Just start driving? No, wait, she can't do that, he's not -- he's not an actual human here with her, he's --

But now that the seal has been loosened, Optimus can't stop himself from continuing. "Everything I said in there was true," he says, facing the window. "I meant it. I still do. And how can I -- how can I still love him, knowing what he's done? What sort of reflection is that on my character? As a soldier? As a leader? As a Prime?"

June's heart aches and stabs and pangs (do the 'Bots ever feel that? In their sparks?). And she attempts to offer solace in another classically human way: "I know how you feel."

Of course it's not on quite the same -- the same scale, but the general feeling, she imagines, must be the same, must be similar, the betrayal and confusion and fear and bargaining and utter self-loathing you go through when someone you love turns out to be not the person you thought they were, when you give someone a second chance (so many second chances) and you someone you trusted with that sacred promise turns around and hurts you (hurts your child) and still, still, some part of you feels as you once did when you were new. Wishes you could run right back to them. Holds on to a sad little hope that someday, they might realize, that they could change back just as suddenly, that you could wake up one morning (one cycle?) and have it all be the way it was. Stupid. Selfish. Pathetic. But so human.

Or. Well. Quite apparently, not exclusively human.

As she tells him that she's been where he is, that emotions aren't always logical and simple and black and white, that that he's not responsible for someone else's actions, that getting over a relationship of that depth is hard, that having your trust shattered doesn't mean it's your foolish fault for offering trust at all, that nobody, no matter how capable, makes the right decision every time, that sometimes a stupid, stupid hope is all you have to cling to and keep going with, she's not condescending to the spiritual leader of an entire wartorn species; she's offering love and comfort to a friend in need. (And maybe to herself, as well.)

He finally turns to her. "Ms. Darby," he says, the stern Prime-ness creeping back into his voice, "Your compassion is much appreciated. Your wisdom is beyond your years."

(It hits her, again, that despite current appearances he's not a human man her age but a being whose lifespan she can't begin to fathom. Still, they've proven, that doesn't mean they're so different.)

"In my spark" (so he does feel it, then?) "I am deeply sorry for the tragedies you and your family have gone through, and in no way do I mean to belittle your experience and your pain. But you must understand... the horror that I speak of, the things that are -- that I have allowed to be put at stake... it's simply not the same. I and I alone have had so many chances to end it all, but I did not -- could not -- and now --"

If he's going to play like that, well, then, June in turn is about to launch into her Mom Voice™️, to go full lecture about how this hypocritical, self-sacrificial old man needs to offer the same understanding to himself as he does to every other member of the team, how this night has proven that he's been too hard on himself for far too long and it's giving them nothing, doing nothing but hurting him inside and if anything, making it harder for him to fulfil his duty. But the next thing Prime says instantly silences her completely.

"It's Megatron. And he's going to destroy us all."

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 1)

for @evnscvll‘s 3k celebration challenge, I immediately broke the rules and took only one prompt: Love, Actually. then I made it into a series. oops. but she made me that lovely moodboard anyways!

summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mention/description of infidelity, awkwardness, me teasing y’all by making this a slow burn

(quick note: I’m not fluent in romanian but I did my best to translate the dialogue as accurately as possible, rather than as literally as possible. if you don’t speak it I would recommend not translating seb’s lines so you get the full experience of having no idea what he’s saying just like the reader in the story but I won’t tell you how to live your life)

You usually trusted your intuition, but up until now you'd convinced yourself that you were being paranoid by worrying about your husband. Trusting him was more important than anything, and definitely more important than a strange feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

The sad thing is, you would've never guessed that he was having an affair with your sister. Not in a million years. All the sneaking around, the strange stories that didn't add up… you would've put your money on a secret gambling addiction (pun unintended but welcome), or maybe that he'd secretly lost his job.

But even with all your suspicion, all your low self-esteem, all your fear that he was too good for you… nothing could've prepared you to walk in and see him with his face between your sister's legs.

He didn't even do that to you; he said he didn't like the taste. You realized now, as you stared out the window of the train at the trees flying by, that that should've been a red flag from the start. For a man who had claimed to be a feminist, things were never really equal in your house. You both worked full time but you were saddled with more chores; you made more money than he did, but for some reason, you found yourself asking for his approval on large purchases; and of course, whenever you'd talked about children, he'd always just assumed you would stay at home forever and do most of the child-rearing. He told you that you'd need to handle them when he was too tired from work-- but what about when you were tired from watching them all damn day while he was working?

God, you needed to stop thinking about this. If you cried on this train people would probably look at you funny and you did not need that right now. You couldn’t take any more reasons to believe people dislike you. Even as much as you wanted to say that you didn't want or need your husband’s approval anymore, you still felt so shitty, so fundamentally worthless that he'd chosen your sister over you. He hadn't wanted to touch you in months. You wondered if it had been going on longer than that: when you'd blown him after that company party half a year ago, were you putting your mouth on something that had been in your sister's--?

"Something to drink, madam?" the attendant asked as she rolled by with her cart, pulling you from a very dangerous cycle of thought.

You jumped a little and looked over to her as she smiled at you-- no hint of judgment or confusion as you wiped a tear away. In her shoes, you would be nosy and want to know more about the woman crying on the train. Then again, maybe it was obvious to her: a woman, alone, who bought the last ticket just before the train left, carrying only a small briefcase and a few hastily-packed suitcases… a woman with nothing to lose, going nowhere as fast as possible. Could it be anything but her having been done wrong by a man?

"Tea, please," you nodded with a smile of your own-- weaker than hers, more awkward. You'd make a bad stewardess.

"Black or green?"

You didn't trust them to steep the green tea at the proper temperature, so you asked for black and nodded in thanks when she handed you the warm paper cup and rolled on by to the next passenger.

What really made your head spin, you considered as you sipped at your drink, was not your husband’s actions but your sister’s. You remembered when you were both teenagers and her boyfriend had cheated on her, she’d gotten so upset with the girl he’d done it with rather than him. You had thought that was ridiculous because the girl didn’t owe her anything. You understood better now, and of course, your sister did owe you something. You two had had your rough patches but overall, she’d been your best friend for most of your life. So much so that she was the one you went to when you were worried about your husband. She told you to give him space. You would’ve never imagined that was her way to get you to back off, to cover her own sins and give her more freedom to shag your husband in your goddamn bed.

Yes, that was the real betrayal. Lots of people have ex-husbands, but you couldn’t exactly turn her into an ex-sister. You were stuck with her, but you had no plan as of yet to face her again.

The night in the sleeper car was restless, literally. It was so dark out that you couldn’t see the trees or mountains anymore, but if you focused really hard and made sure to turn off every light in your room, you could just barely see the stars in the sky. You hoped that you would have plenty of time to spend looking at the stars once you reached your destination. As much as you’d loved the city lights of London for the past several years, you really needed to be somewhere that was actually dark at night. And where the air was clean. And, best of all, where nobody knew who the fuck you were.

You stepped out of the train and onto the platform, feeling very much like you were surrounded by people ending their stories-- reuniting with loved ones, finishing vacations-- while yours was just beginning. Well, you supposed it made sense that most of the people travelling from London to Nyíregyháza, Hungary were probably from Nyíregyháza, Hungary. Unlike you, who had only been here once while backpacking through the area in college and fallen in love with it. You were lucky that the owner of the secluded cottage you’d crashed at back then had picked up the phone when you called from the train; you were especially lucky that she was willing to pick you up from the station, you not being quite dressed or prepared for backpacking.

Exiting the station and finding the cobblestone street, you were nearly tackled by a portly old woman as she tried to get your attention.

“Mrs. Alberti?!” you asked with wide eyes.

“You should at least pretend I haven’t aged a day,” she frowned, her words coated with her thick Hungarian accent.

“I was just surprised that you’re still running the cottage! I figured you and Mr. Alberti retired ages ago,” you explained, following her back to her car and putting your luggage in the boot.

She seemed a little crestfallen, wistfully considering your assumption. “Well, it’s not quite what it used to be but yes, I am still the owner. Sadly, Mr. Alberti passed away several years back.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied, hoping to be as comforting as reasonably possible, “he was such a sweet man.”

“Yes, but he had a long illness-- and before that, lived a very full life,” she smiled confidently, walking to the driver’s seat as you followed along the other side and got in the passenger.

“It’s too bad he won’t get to see you again, though,” she continued as she started the vehicle. Considering how old it looked, you were impressed that it worked on the first try. “He would’ve been amazed to have a repeat customer from somewhere so far away. I certainly am!”

“Yes, well, I have great memories from staying in the villa, and decided to go in search of some of the lust for life that I had back then-- chasing after youth never backfires, right?” you joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied with a smirk.

You knew you were getting close to the old house when the roads turned from asphalt, to cobblestone, to gravel, and finally to dirt. As much as you figured trees and grass looked basically the same everywhere, you appreciated that it somehow managed to look totally different than England. Maybe it was the scattering of blue wildflowers, or the way the wilderness was dominating the few signs of human existence rather than the other way around. Driving it was different than hiking it, certainly, and you wondered if you would find the time or energy to climb the foothills on the other side of the lake like you had before. Maybe you didn’t want to find out how much athletic ability you’d lost since college…

“Here we are!” she announced as she made one last turn and yep, there it was: a lonely stone cottage, with flowers all along the walls and pink wooden shutters.

You could tell it had aged since it had looked how you remembered, but if anything it had gained a quaint charm, with its moss and ivy and old trees which sagged under their own weight. Figuring you would have more time to take in the scenery in the indefinite time you planned to spend here, you decided to make good time and gather your things first.

As you opened the boot and reached in to grab your luggage, someone appeared beside you and pushed your hands aside, saying something that you couldn’t parse at all. You stepped aside and realized that it was a young man-- not horrifically young or anything, but certainly… strapping. He shot you a smile, and you couldn’t think of the last time somebody had looked at you with so much joy on their face.

“Oh, thank you,” you nodded, letting him lift your suitcases (which he did with ease, just to make it all extra cruel).

“This is Sebastian-- he lives here and does odd jobs for me,” Mrs. Alberti informed you, "Don't waste your time talking to him; he doesn't speak a word of English."

"Oh, he only speaks Hungarian?" You turned to him again; "Szia, hogy vagy?"

He shook his head and smiled awkwardly.

"No dear, he only speaks Romanian," Mrs. Alberti explained with a laugh. "Can't you tell I can only afford to run this place by using cheap immigrant labour?"

"Salut," he greeted. At least you could figure what that meant. You chuckled uncomfortably and looked to the ground.

You followed Sebastian and Mrs. Alberti into the house, admiring how little the interior decorations had changed-- it was all macrame and flowers in old-fashioned ceramic vases, with lots of oddball Hungarian trinkets to round it all out. Perhaps the only thing you could notice that was different was new floorboards.

“You like the new floor?” Mrs. Alberti asked, as if she were reading your mind. “Sebastian put that in for me.”

Sebastian seemed to perk up as he set your bags down briefly, clearly aware he was being talked about.

“Remember?” Mrs. Alberti addressed him, motioning to the floor. “You put in the new floor, huh? Új emelet?”

You wondered why she’d seemed to laugh at you for trying to speak Hungarian to him, when she was doing the same thing.

“Da,” he smiled, pressing his shoe down onto the floor to apparently demonstrate the lack of creaking. “Ți-am făcut un etaj nou.”

“Alright, go ahead and take her bags upstairs,” Mrs. Alberti instructed him, motioning to the luggage and then to the staircase. He nodded and picked them up again, starting to walk across the room. “He knows where your room is, just follow him,” she told you.

The stairs, unlike the new floor, did creak, and you weren’t sure how far behind you were supposed to be on the staircase to avoid having his ass right at eye level. You didn’t want to stare at it… but either the jeans were doing him a lot of favours, or Mrs. Alberti’s ‘odd jobs’ do a body good. Maybe a little bit of both.

He used his back to push open the door to your room, setting your bags just inside before turning to leave again, like he thought it would be rude to step inside.

“Wait,” you requested, but he kept going-- probably the whole ‘not understanding English’ thing. God, you were going to look so stupid at least a few more times trying to get through to this guy, you could sense it. Forced to get his attention another way, you reached out and grabbed his arm; not hard, but it was definitely a slightly aggressive thing to do anyways. It worked, though, and he turned around with an expectant look. “Could you help me unload?” you asked, gesturing towards the bags.

His brow knitted with confusion as he tilted his head. You sighed, not sure exactly how to pantomime this.

“One of my bags,” you began, pointing to one of them, “is heavy--” a lifting motion-- “could you--” you pointed to him-- “unpack it?”

That seemed to make more sense to him, and he stepped back into the room with you. “Voi încerca,” he said, somewhat to himself, as you opened the suitcase. Inside was your typewriter; he nodded with understanding and scooped it up.

“Unde?” he asked, and regardless of what it meant, you were going to show him where to put the typewriter anyways.

“Just over there, the table by the window,” you pointed to it. He nodded again and walked past you, setting it down, and even adjusting it a little to make sure it was centered.

“Thank you!” you piped up when he turned back to you. And just like that, you were plunged back into awkward silence. You pointed to him, and then the typewriter as you pantomimed typing. “Can you type?” He seemed to understand what you meant.

“Nu,” he shook his head, “când eram mic, trebuiau înregistrați anual.”

“...huh,” you mumbled, not sure what to do with that.

“Plec acum,” he announced as he started to step past you again.

You cleared your throat and let him walk out the doorway. “Right, um, have a good afternoon…”

He gave a little wave as he walked down the hall, and you sighed once he was out of sight and making his way down the creaking stairs. You impressed yourself with your ability to embarrass yourself constantly, even with total strangers. But, all that aside, you were finally ready to settle in and properly enjoy your change of scenery.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastan stan x you

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lovelucybradford · 3 years

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I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time). One

Tumblr’s hottest new Derek HalexOC fic is “I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time)”. Fueled by one too many rom-coms and the author’s thirst for Tyler Hoechlin, this fic has EVERYTHING: childhood friends to lovers, fake engagement, mutual pining, Derek Hale’s family alive and well, and SLOW BURN (oh so slow).

One: get me with those green eyes, baby.

“Yo Rosie, you better go over there. Cinderella’s about to steal your man,” Stiles commented nonchalantly, sipping on a Coke from a paper cup. He was trying to hide his smile, but Rosalie could see right through him.

“Shut up, Stiles. He’s not my man.” Rosalie rolled her eyes, but didn’t stray her focus from Derek, Cinderella, and her niece, Charlotte. The young girl who was playing Cinderella couldn’t be older than twenty-one. (Way too young for the man.) Sure enough, she had her dainty hand on Derek’s bicep, likely commenting on his muscles. (That had happened with Ariel, an hour before. To which Rosalie thought that she’d be able to fill out those seashells much better.)

Derek laughed, scratching the back of his neck—a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with all of the attention. It had been his tell for as long as Rosalie had known him—verging on twenty-five years, give or take the time that they’d spent apart in college and Rosalie’s four-year stint living with her father’s family in New York City (a mistake, big mistake).

That had been a change; Derek used to eat up all of the attention from women when they were younger. A lot had changed with the two friends through the years; lovers had come and go, lessons learnt the hard way—but the one thing that hadn’t changed was their connection to each other. No one quite understood Rose the way that Derek did, and she’d like to think that nobody understood Derek like she did.

Charlotte pointed one blue-painted nail towards her aunt, and suddenly all eyes were on her. “Auntie Rosie! Come here!” she called loudly.

Rosalie obliged, excusing herself from Lydia and Stiles to join Charlotte, Derek, and the princess. Cinderella smiled kindly at Rosalie, eyes briefly flicking up to her hair. She turned to Derek and asked, “Is this your princess?”

To which Rosalie flushed a bright shade of red. Cinderella was likely referring to Rosalie’s elaborate updo. Her red hair was covered in green glitter, complete with a sparkling, emerald-encrusted tiara. Charlotte, ever the shy child, had been nervous to go to the Bippity Boppity Boutique by herself, and convinced her aunt to play along. So, Rosalie had gotten the works, and Derek and Stiles teased her incessantly all day. She didn’t mind, really. She’d do anything for the kid, whether that be to sell her soul or literally become her childhood moniker.

Derek chuckled apprehensively and ducked his head. Charlotte answered for them both, giving Stiles Stilinski more fodder for his jokes.

“Yeah! This is my Auntie Rose. Uncle Derek calls her princess,” Charlotte smiled proudly. In the distance, Stiles guffawed, and Lydia leaned her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Likely hiding her own laugh, for Rosalie’s benefit.

Rosalie stumbled over her own words. “I…um…childhood nickname. Anyways, Char, do you want a photo so the nice people behind us get a chance to meet Cinderella, too?”

The four posed for the photo, Derek and Rosalie on either side of the princess and Charlotte, curtseying, in front. Lydia snapped a quick photo on her own phone and on Rosalie’s. Then, Rosalie graciously thanked Cinderella and the photographer, eager to get the hell out of the awkward situation.

Derek swept Charlotte up on to his shoulders, giving a polite nod before he turned to leave as well. Cinderella tapped him on the arm, and added, “Have a magical day! Your girlfriend is beautiful.”

Rosalie lost her footing at Cinderella’s words, almost crashing embarrassingly to the floor if it weren’t for Lydia’s supportive hand on her wrist. She let Lydia lead her out of the building, feeling quite lightheaded all of a sudden.

The sun had set in the near hour that they had waited to meet the princesses. The stars in the sky sparkled above, bringing a whole new sense of magic to ‘The Most Magical Place on Earth’.

“Oh my God, this picture is so cute. I’m def posting it on Instagram,” Lydia said, smiling down at her phone. She moved closer to her cousin so Rosalie could see the photo as well.

Rosalie cringed. “Um, no you’re not.” Charlotte looked adorable, as she always did. Rosalie, well—Rosalie looked exactly as she felt in that very moment. The pink in her cheeks perfectly matched the tapestry behind them, and she couldn’t blame that shade of red on a blossoming sunburn. And Derek—he looked like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed with a tight-lipped smile. Even when mortified he still managed to look gorgeous.

It hurt Rosalie’s heart just a little bit to think that Derek was mortified because someone thought they were together. But she buried that feeling once she saw Stiles saunter towards them, Derek and a chattering Charlotte in tow.

“Too late. I already did,” Lydia announced, lips tilting into a playful smile.

“Already did what?” Derek peeked over the women’s heads.

He groaned loudly, making Charlotte laugh. “Please tell me you didn’t just post that on Instagram. God, Laura’s never going to let me live this down.”

Rosalie tilted her head upward and smirked at her best friend. “Just wait until I tell her that you got hit on by Cinderella.” She laughed at Derek’s flared nostrils and pursed lips. He smacked her on the shoulder blade with the hand that wasn’t supporting Charlotte, who was clutching Derek’s black baseball-cap covered head with both little hands.

Charlotte tilted her head, befuddled. “What does ‘hit on’ mean?”

Rosalie and Derek stayed silent, neither one wanting to answer. Stiles replied for them, winking up at the little girl. “It means that Cinderella liked your Uncle Derek. Anywho, I’m thinking that we hit that Millennium Falcon ride.”

Rosalie checked her phone. “Can’t, Stiles. We have to head to dinner.”

Stiles sighed. “Please God, tell me your father won’t be joining us, Rosalie. I already have to deal with him for a whole week. If I have to spend more time with him than that, I might chop off my arm with a lightsaber.”

Lydia checked the map, and the group began their trek towards the restaurant.

“What’s Stiles talking about?” Derek asked as he hiked Charlotte further up his shoulders.

“The Martin Family Reunion,” Lydia commented, looking pointedly at Rosalie. Rosalie, who had forgotten all about it. And furthermore, forgotten about the little white lie she’d made when she RSVP’d. “A weeklong cruise hosted by Rosalie’s father.”

Lydia pursed her lips, green eyes flitting back and forth between her cousin and the path in front of her. “The one that Drew will be at… with his new fiancée, Ashleigh.”

The mention of the two made Rosalie sick. It had been a blow to Rosalie, when she’d seen that Instagram post on her sister’s profile. She was stupid to think that it couldn’t get worse than her ex and her sister sleeping together behind her back. Then they had to go and get engaged, a sure reminder to Rosalie that Drew, the one love of her life, would never really be gone from it.

“Gross,” Charlotte said. “Drew the Douchebag.”

Rosalie’s mouth gaped in repulsion. She glared scoldingly up at her niece. “Charlotte Marie Martin, who told you that?”

Charlotte had the nerve to not look guilty at all. She innocently smiled back at her aunt. “Daddy… and Uncle Derek.”

Rosalie turned her glare to Derek, whose shoulders were shaking, and not because of the weight of the five-year-old perched on them. “You’ve never even met Drew,” she hissed.

Derek kept his gaze straight forward. “I didn’t have to, not with what he did.”

“Can’t argue there,” Stiles chimed in, and Rosalie smacked him on the back of the head.

Derek stopped, and Rosalie thought he was going to apologize. Instead, he crouched down. “Ok, Charlie. Why don’t you walk with Auntie Rose for a while? Uncle Derek’s shoulders hurt.”

Charlotte clambered off of Derek and into the welcoming hand of her aunt. Rosalie couldn’t stay mad at Charlotte. It wasn’t her fault that Rosalie’s brother let things slip. Charlie just mimicked what her father said.

Rosalie didn’t speak the rest of the way. She was too angry with what Derek and her brother had been saying behind her back. (Even though she knew they spoke the truth.)

“Rosalie? Lydia?” came a call from behind the group. Rosalie didn’t have to turn around in her beach chair to know who it was. She shifted the sleeping little girl in her lap slightly so she could sink down in it, ducking her head.

Derek snorted a laugh. “What are you doing?” His stare flickered between Rosalie and Lydia (who was in a similar position in her own chair), green eyes full of amusement.

“I’m invisible. I’m not here. I don’t exist,” Rosalie whispered, eyes scrunched shut and wishing it into reality.

Derek crouched, meeting Rosalie’s line of sight. “Why are we hiding?”

“Shh!” she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “You remember my crazy Aunt Susie?”

“Your dad’s sister? The one who looks like the female version of Donald Trump?”

“Yes. Also known as the family gossip. She will undoubtedly say something shitty about Drew and Ashleigh’s engagement.”

Derek scoffed. “Fuck them.” As an afterthought, he added, “You know what, fuck her too.”

Rosalie swatted him on the forearm. “Children, Derek. There are children present.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it that loud… and the kid is asleep.”

“Yo Lydia, Rosalie, Derek. I’m back with the contraband.” Stiles weaved between chairs and the standing crowd, arms full of paper drink cups and soft pretzels.

Lydia kicked him in the shin. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles looked amused. “Why are you whispering?”

“Yoo Hoo! Rosalie Anne! Lydia Isabella! You can’t hide from your Aunt Susie!” Rosalie’s aunt yelled, words slurred with her southern drawl, and likely a bit of alcohol.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and he too ducked down. “Forget I asked.”

A slim, bony finger poked Rosalie on her bun-topped head. Aunt Susie shuffled around the chairs to stand in front of the group. With no escape in sight, Rosalie and her friends sighed and straightened themselves up.

“Oh, my,” Aunt Susie chirped, grabbing hold of both Rosalie’s and Lydia’s cheeks. “Look at how much you two have grown!”

Rosalie smiled kindly, as she was taught to do from a young age. She hoped if she obliged in conversation, then Aunt Susie would leave quicker and they could enjoy their night in peace.

Aunt Susie’s smile fell when her eyes swept over Lydia’s boyfriend. “And Steve…nice to see you again.”

Stiles scratched his chin, mumbling, “It’s um…Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

But Aunt Susie paid no mind. Her attention was completely on the man that sat to Rosalie’s left. Her eyes scanned him, seemingly sizing him up. Or checking him out. Likely the latter, Rosalie thought, knowing her aunt.

“Well, Rosalie. Who’s this?” she drawled, looking quite like a cat watching its prey.

Derek straightened out and forced a smile. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Derek Hale, ma’am.” Derek’s mother had instilled politeness in her son, even if he didn’t like the person. And Rosalie knew that Derek wasn’t fond of Rosalie’s father’s side of the family.

She took it, shaking too enthusiastically. A sense of recognition washed over her plump face, and her hand stilled. “Derek Hale… little Derek Hale? Why, you’ve grown, too. When was the last time I saw you? Ten years ago?”

Derek smirked, fire in his eyes. Rosalie prepared herself for the inevitable shit talking, already planning damage control. “Actually, it was fourteen years ago. At the second wedding of Jason Martin. When your brother married his mistress and left Rosalie, Levi, and Ms. Hart.”

Stiles snorted noisily, placing a hand over his mouth to cover up his laughter. Lydia cracked a smile, too. Rosalie kicked Derek, hard. Well, as hard as she could with a child still sleeping soundly on her lap.

Aunt Susie’s mouth opened and closed in shock, for once at a loss for words.

Charlotte woke at just the right time, deterring the awkward silence. She stretched and yawned loudly, then sat up in Rosalie’s lap. Her tiara was crooked, and her eye makeup was smudged, but she still looked cute. Rosalie wished she looked that nice after sleeping in her makeup.

“Aunt Susie!” she cried at the sight of her great-aunt, wrapping the woman in a hug. Ah, childhood innocence. Charlie didn’t know what the real world was like, what her extended family was really like, and Rosalie preferred to keep her naivety.

Charlotte easily engaged Aunt Susie in an excitable conversation. Rosalie, eerily conscious of eyes on her, shifted her ring between the fingers of both hands. It was an impulse buy, the vintage sapphire with the white gold band. She’d seen it on display in one of the shop windows and absolutely had to have it, even if it was way more than she’d ever spend on herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you on the cruise in a few weeks.” Aunt Susie turned to leave. Her eyes caught something, and she halted, wide-eyed.

“Oh, my stars,” she commented, hands on her heart. “I… I thought after Drew you were a hopeless case, but…”

Rosalie couldn’t comprehend why her aunt was getting choked up. And the ‘hopeless case’ comment stung more than she would have liked.

Sweet, sweet Charlie reached up to dry her great-aunt’s tears. The damage was already done—white tear tracks contrasted starkly with the tangerine of the older woman’s self-tanner. “What’s wrong, Aunt Susie?”

Aunt Susie, so overwhelmed with emotion, didn’t register the little girl’s words. Instead, she grabbed Derek’s hand. It hung limply in hers. Derek looked alarmed. “Oh, Rosalie’s father will be absolutely thrilled to see you… both of his baby girls… first Drew and Ashleigh…”

Aunt Susie shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the bottom of her red Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

With her resolve back, she straightened. “Well now, please tell me you’re coming on the cruise?”

“I, um…” Derek stuttered, looking to his best friend for help. Rosalie had no idea what was going on either, and just shrugged in response.

“Well, you absolutely must go now! Of course, Lydia and her wild boyfriend are coming--”

Stiles quietly muttered something along the lines of “I may be wild, but at least I’m not one step away from the loony bin, lady.” Rosalie leaned her elbow on the armrest and laughed into her palm.

“--and Rosie, you absolutely have to bring your fiancé,” Aunt Susie pleaded, looking straight at Derek.

Rosalie couldn’t look at him. She froze, stock still, staring in horror at the sapphire ring that had migrated from her right ring finger onto her left. Where an engagement ring would go. And her new piece of jewelry sure as hell looked like an engagement ring.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!” Charlotte squealed loudly, clasping her hands in glee.

Rosalie was about to deny it, let the little girl down easy, when Charlotte began to cry.

“Char, why are you crying?” Rosalie asked, voice shaking. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at her niece, heart beating heavily in her chest.

“I’m just… I’m so, so, happy,” Charlotte sniffled. “I love you so much, Uncle Derek.” The little girl climbed over Rosalie and hopped into Derek’s lap, engulfing him in a huge hug. Derek didn’t hug her back, but only for a miniscule moment. He shook his head, coming to his senses, and then wrapped his arms around the girl, patting her back stiffly.

“You didn’t tell her?” Aunt Susie asked Rosalie, accusingly. Rosalie looked to her right for help. Stiles and Lydia were silently sharing a soft pretzel, looking just as stunned as Rosalie.

“No… um, we were going to tell Charlotte during the fireworks. Right, Rosie?” Derek mumbled, saving face. Rosalie thanked him silently for his quick wit.

Rosalie’s head whipped in the opposite direction. She met Derek’s apprehensive eyes. It was almost as if he was asking permission, like he actually agreed to go along with this whole charade.

It was the perfect ruse if Rosalie could ever think of one. A month ago, she’d drunkenly RSVP’d with a plus one to the family reunion cruise, as a way to save her pride and spite her family, who likely thought that she’d come alone and pine for her ex.

No way in hell, she’d thought. Even though there was no one in her life that she could even remotely think of to bring as a date. Derek was out of the question, before…

But now…

She subtly raised a brow, wordlessly asking, are you sure?

Derek subtly nodded back, lip quirking in a reassuring half smile.

Rosalie cleared her throat and straightened herself to her tallest seated height. She wasn’t confident at all, so she was going to fake it till she made it. “That’s right. We were going to wait until the fireworks, make it more magical for Charlotte.”

The speakers on the green lamppost next to them announced that the show was starting. Aunt Susie left them all with a wave and a ‘see you soon’.

No one spoke during the show, except for Charlotte, who was oblivious to the mess that she’d inadvertently got them into.

“So, I guess you’re my fiancée now,” Derek joked, lightly shoving Rosalie in the side. She smiled shyly up at her best friend. Amusement shined in his eyes. He wasn’t mad or appalled like Rosalie suspected him to be. Thank God.

“I, um, I guess I am,” Rosalie replied, swinging her now free arms beside her. Stiles had taken over the task of carrying a sleepy Charlotte to the car. He and Lydia trailed behind them, whispering. Likely about Derek and Rosalie’s… predicament.

“Dude, you two are fucked,” Stiles said, appearing suddenly on Rosalie’s left.

“So fucked,” Lydia affirmed after checking to see if Charlotte was still sleeping.

Rosalie couldn’t help but agree.

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x oc #teen wolf #tyler hoechlin

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dat-carovieh · 3 years

Text

Got some interpretation on Hank’s character that got prompted by some discussion on Discord about the stickers on Hank’s work desk. They all seem to somehow send a message about some boomer guy who is racist about androids, hates his ex-wife, is in general a grumpy asshole who is a prick to everyone. But is he really and if not, how do you explain the stickers?

So, let’s first have a look at who Hank interacts with throughout the game to see if he really is a grumpy prick like the stickers suggest. We will get to the stickers later. I will not include Connor for now, because I think that has been talked about a lot also this post is already a novel. But let’s talk about side characters.

We have of course his co-workers. Most memorable is probably Gavin. He clearly doesn’t like Gavin and Gavin clearly doesn’t like him. Gavin is pretty shitty to Hank, despite Hank being his superior. So I think Hank calling Gavin an asshole and not being friendly with him makes sense. How about other co-workers, we don’t see a lot. I can only think of Ben and Chris. They seem to be respecting each other. In Partners Hank arrives, gets greeted by Ben, has a polite conversation about what happened, Ben teases him a little, Hank does not get rude about it, maybe a bit grumpy, but well he’s annoyed about his new partner. He than walks around the crime scene and asks questions. When he talks, he is polite to the person he talks to. He talks to Chris in public enemy (Please excuse if I forget instances, I have played the game a couple of times, but my brain isn’t perfect) He enters, he makes a joke, in my opinion it’s funny and in no way rude, he’s annoyed with the FBI, yeah but I think that’s normal. He asks Chris questions, listens to him, polite conversation, they seem to clearly respect each other and have a good and professional relationship. Later Hank is clearly really affected by what happened to Chris, no matter if he got killed or not.

Jeffrey is a little harder. They do yell at each other, it’s not really pretty, there are clearly issues between them. They go way back and I can imagine they butt heads a lot because Jeffrey is disappointed in Hank for letting himself go and giving in to his depression and alcoholism. I can imagine he had tried to help Hank and he resisted a lot, Hank seems like the type. So there is a lot of tension that comes out between them.

I mentioned the FBI earlier, so clearly, we have to talk about Perkins, THAT MOTHER FUCKER. Yeah, I hate him, he’s an asshole, Hank thinks the same. But honestly Perkins was super rude from the beginning. Chris introduced them and instead of a “Hello” or whatever his first words were “What is that” about Connor. Yeah, fuck off Perkins. Hank has actually been really polite with him there, if you take in the circumstances.

Let’s move to the Eden Club. Who does he interact here? Ben, briefly, polite professional, he calls Gavin an asshole, when he’s not there, he doesn’t really say anything to Gavin when they’re in the same room, despite Gavin being a little shit again. Eden Club owner? He’s polite as he questions him, he does mention that he likes his dog more and more the more he learns about humans, which honestly, if you look at why he says that, understandable. Then the Traci, this is easily missed, I only saw it on my fourth playthrough, he is trying to gently let her down and it’s incredibly adorable. The guy who supposedly absolutely hates Androids and thinks they’re just machines tries to not hurt this android sexworker’s feelings even though he believes she doesn’t even have feelings.

We see a little bit of his private life at Chicken Feed where he meets Pedro, a guy who apparently gives him questionable betting advice and last time Hank apparently lost quite a bit of money with Pedro’s advice. But he’s not mad. He mentions it but he is quickly convinced to bet again and he’s in general super friendly to Pedro. Gary, the guy who owns Chicken Feed, him and Hank also seem to have a good relationship. Someone who wouldn’t want to interact with humans and who is annoyed by them (like me sometimes) wouldn’t actually built a connection to the guy you buy your food from. I’m talking from personal experience here. Yes, I’m always friendly to service workers I interact with but I don’t really say more than greeting, thanking, wishing a good day and anything important for whatever I’m buying. Hank clearly knows him better and talks to him. Jimmy is less clear but the way he says to him “Wonders of technology, make it double” it seems like they know each other, they chat on occasion. And I think that extends to other Service workers. He would be friendly at the grocery store when something doesn’t work out r at the restaurant when getting the wrong dish. You know like millennials are, because he is a millennial.

That we go to Kamski. I’m not sure why he seems nervous while talking to Chloe because I’m pretty sure with all his experience he doesn’t get nervous in front of a pretty woman, that seems like it would be really bad for the job. I don’t know what’s with this, maybe cause she’s an android and he’s not sure how to interact with her? But he is very polite to her, greets her and asks for Kamski. Despite her being an android, he supposedly hates. He is less polite to Kamski, but he’s a little shit, who honestly is wilfully withholding information from the police, which is a crime, but he’s rich so I guess he gets away with it.

So, what about the Stickers than? Let’s have a look at the Stickers and see what we have.

I’m just gonna list what we see there, so you don’t have to get through my grainy screenshots and also, it’s accessible for screenreaders.

We have three categories, let’s start with anti Android: -“We don’t bleed the same color” -a blue triangle, crossed out, underneath it says: “No more androids”

That’s it, only two, we know he doesn’t like androids but like mentioned before he is still really polite to them, well his relationship with Connor is starting bumpy and based on player choices might get bumpier. But what is it, he hates? He doesn't like androids in their non-deviated state because of what humans want them to be, he hates that humans basically built human shaped slaves. And honestly, I kinda get it. Connor shoots the Tracis? Hank likes Connor less. Hank shoots Chloe, Hank is mad. Connor spares them? Hank tells him he did the right thing. Connor asked him why he didn’t want him to chase Kara across the highway and the first thing he says is “You could have died” before he remembers he’s supposed to hate androids. Yes, he gives positive feedback when Connor shoots the kitchen android but he was actively threatening all of their lifes.

Next, we have a sticker mentioning an ex-wife, only one. It says: “If I wanted to be ignored I’d talk to my ex-wife” There is something else there but it’s blocked by another sticker.

Seems like classical boomer humour “Haha I hate my ex-wife” or it’s ironic. There is no other instance of an ex-wife being mentioned. For all we know, he might have never been married. Hell he might be gay. Cole might have been adopted. The sticker might be ironic. Or he got it from somewhere and just sticked it on or he did it very shortly after the breakup when he was pretty mad.

Third are the grumpy ones. We have more from them. -“If you’re not a bartender, go away!” twice -“How is my driving? Call: 1-555-IDONTCARE” twice -I’m not grumpy. I just don’t like you.” -“Warning, to avoid injury, don’t tell me how to do my job” -“If you have a complaint, please do to hell.” -“Happy people make me sick”

This screams edgy millennial to me. Also the fact he has stickers twice seems like he just got them somewhere and slapped them on because he found them funny. He didn’t buy them specifically.

The bartender ones? Don’t we all like to make fun of our mental illnesses? He knows he’s an alcoholic, might as well make fun about it. The ones about driving? Wouldn’t you stick them on your car? Why is this in the office? Because they’re stupid but somehow funny, just slap them on there. I’m not grumpy? I would totally say that as well. And I believe people told them he’s grumpy so he probably saw this as fitting. I have to admit I don’t have a specific interpretation to telling him hoe to do his job and the complaint one. The one about happy people? This man is heavily depressed, that’s a coping mechanism, it’s again making fun of your own mental illness. But yes, all in all they boil down to edgy millennial.

I’m well aware that this is probably not what David Cage intended but to be honest I don’t care what David Cage intended. He tried to push boomer Hank on us with these stickers but the Hank we got was different. I don’t know if that’s Clancy’s doing or if this is just another plothole. But that is my interpretation of Hank, nobody asked for.

Anyway, I love Hank and I’m making it everyone’s problem.

#Detroit Become human #Hank Anderson #I love him your honor

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wendystales · 3 years

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Four)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Three ※※※※※ Chapter Five

I absorbed and enjoyed the silence that was hovering around my house. I grabbed a glass of juice and sat down on the couch on the balcony. My mom left early for work, and Leah even tried to take me along for a photo shoot she was going to do in Venice. But, honestly, I'm not in the mood for dragging plaster casts around under the sun.

Not to mention that it is good to have moments alone to get my head straight. I know that in a little while it will be even harder to escape from these outings, I mean, I know I have to get back to my routine, but as long as I can avoid it, I will.

I put the juice on the table and pick up my diary. Unlike yesterday, I open it to the first page, like a book, and start reading. I go through a few pages about my feelings, about what I planned about my future, about my parents' divorce.

"I know it was inevitable. Anyone could tell how distant they were, I just didn't want it to be like that, that she suffered the same way I did. And I didn't want to feel that anger from him. But deep down, I know it's for the best.".

A few more pages telling about the scout who had seen me at the mall, the first photo shoot, the first runway show for a small clothing brand. Then arriving at the day I met Ashton.

"That one nobody expected/imagined/sought for. Ashton Irwin is my yoga partner!!! Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Oh my gosh, I never would have imagined that. I was dying of nervousness about being the new student, then he comes and offers to be my duo and oh gosh, he's amazing. Super fun and nice. AND HE CALLED ME UP FOR COFFEE ON SUNDAY.

" Ashton and I sat at a table on the sidewalk. Under the table, I snapped my fingers in nervousness as I read the menu.

- Do you already know what you are going to order? - he asks. I pout and nod my head in denial.

- All I know is that I don't want espresso. - I comment.

- Can I recommend one? I think you'll like it, it's whipped with cream and chocolate, very sweet. - He points to the menu after I accept his suggestion.

- It amazes me how good you are at coffee. - I joke, making him laugh.

- I like coffee. I once took a tour of a coffee farm in the countryside right here in California.

Coffee becomes our first topic. Because he knows and understands coffee, Ashton convinces me to do a tasting at a promising coffee shop in Brentwood the next morning. It was not the kind of program I am used to doing, but everything is different now, my life has changed and so have my types of programs.

- You are lost being my friend, I will call you all morning for breakfast together. - Ashton comments as we drive along the sidewalks of Los Angeles.

My body shakes when it hears the word "friend". I still wasn't sure if I could consider Ash a friend, but now, I'm happy to know that I can and that he considers me too. "

The memory warms and cheers me up, giving me more desire to read and remember.

I don't realize how much I was smiling until my cheeks start to hurt. After that day, his name becomes very frequent, until it joins Leah's.

"I don't know how to explain this girl. She came in so confident and nose to nose, I was sure she would be insufferable, then she opened her mouth and all I could think was 'where has she been all my life? ' And I don't want to get my hopes up or be a pain in the ass, but she's also a model and she talked about me going to her father's agency and if that works out? it's one of the biggest agencies in the world, I'm going to take off. God, if this is your will...".

I laugh at the following narrations that already involve Ashton, Noah and Leah. I can't remember what is written, but my imagination gives me a warm, happy feeling in my body. And if the reality has been as fun and nice as what I imagined, then it was very good.

I feel my body shiver and a chill take over my stomach when I see Luke's name for the first time. I cut the pace of my reading, preparing myself for what was to come. I reach for another glass of juice, buying time and even courage to read the rest.

"I had already noticed him looking at me, I just didn't want to believe he was looking at me, and it was perfect like that, until Ashton brought him in. It's one thing to know who Luke is, it's another to talk to him. In the end it wasn't so bad. I guess. I just stared for the first hour at anything but him, but I guess he must have missed it. Now I'm in the dilemma of if he liked me, I mean, we spent four hours talking and nothing, no kiss, no phone exchange. NOTHING."

I laugh at myself. I can perfectly see myself being embarrassed by him and not being able to look him in the eye.. If I could go back in time, I would tell this Marnie that Luke really liked her, even though I only had a basis in videos and pictures.

I pick up my cell phone and open insta, going to the date that marked my diary. 07/06/18. It was Ashton's birthday party. I flip to the side and see a picture taken in Hawaii, with the caption "The one where we got lost". I turn the page and find that trip.

"I know I am committing one of the biggest follies of my life and deep down, I don't even know why. That's a lie, I do, but that's not the point. In fact, it is, but that's not what I'm going to talk about. Again, it is. The point is: I can't believe that at the last minute I agreed to go on a trip to Hawaii with a bunch of people I barely know. Except Ash, Noah and Leah. And P.S. Monday is his birthday. It only gets better.”

Apparently things between Luke and me went pretty quickly. I read a few more pages seeing that on his birthday, we had our first kiss and from then on everything happened too fast and messy.

I write about many fights and reconciliations. Both he and I, didn't want anything serious, but both he and I, couldn't stay away from each other and there was my reason.

"There is a good big part of all this blocking that I believe is because of what happened and because of me trying to pretend it didn't happen. Dr. Prescott says that if I don't put it out there and don't talk about it, it will consume me. 'Talking about our fears, worries and problems makes them smaller and easier to defeat.'

Besides my parents, no one else knows about that day."

I run my eyes quickly down the page, seeing that that one was about Stephen's cheating.

I close the journal in fear. I don't know what is coming, and I don't know if I have the courage to read it. It is one thing to hear about it from others, from their view and opinion, even if it is not on purpose. It's another to hear about it from my view, from what I've been through.

I have no doubt that there are things in these next pages that maybe even my parents don't know. Things and feelings that I have kept solely and exclusively to myself and I don't know if I am ready to face this, again.

I put down the diary and go in search of something else. Luckily for me, my guardian angel, aka Leah, calls me.

“Are you busy? I thought we could have lunch together. What do you think?” she bombards me, not letting me say hello.

“Hi to you too. No, I'm not busy, just reading my diary.” I run my hand over the cover, keeping in the back of my mind what awaits me. “ I'll take lunch.”

Before Leah can answer, I hear a muffled argument on the phone and wait for the fight to end.

“Sorry, but Noah is asking if he can come along.” she asks, without patience.

“Of course he can.” I hold my laughter, imagining the two of them fighting on the other end of the line.

“Okay, in a few minutes we'll be there. Kisses.”

I say goodbye to her and decide not to read the diary again. The doctor himself told me not to force myself into anything. I set the table and wait for the two of them to arrive.

After forty minutes, the doorbell rings. I make way for my friend and analyze the tall, muscular man behind her. Unlike my memory, the Noah of today has his hair well shaved and brunette, like his sister's. His green eyes fill with tears when he sees me crack a smile, and like his twin, he doesn't wait for permission and hugs me.

“Don't ever do that again, young lady. What a shitty world this would be without you!” he squeezes me before showering me with kisses, all over my face.

Leah turns and pulls him away from me, making me laugh. I follow them both into the kitchen and look at the bags they brought, excited.

“We made sure to stop by The Palm and pick up your favorite dish.” I didn't even know that I had a favorite dish at The Palm. But when Leah opens a box and I feel my mouth water when I see that noodle with shrimp, I realize how little I know myself.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” I ask softly, with a smile.

We start lunch and today my attention was on Noah, after all he was the new thing. I listen to him tell about the day we met, when he began to advise my career with his sister, and how things have been going since the accident.

“You don't have to give any interviews if you don't want to.” he assures me once again.

I still don't know how to deal with this "public figure" business, but deep down I feel a need to give a "satisfaction" to everyone who knows me. Noah has already sent some notes about my condition, but I know that I will have to appear on some channel in the future.

We changed the subject and started talking about my amnesia. Noah was not very happy that my first memory was his hair fiasco. I commented that I was reading my diary and asked about some events.

“Are we really lost in Hawaii?” they both started to laugh and agree.

“That day I wanted to hit Mark. I was getting very angry that he could not accept that he was reading the wrong map. Not to mention the car dying and us pushing," Noah comments.

“Mark was never good with maps. He says himself that he was a lousy Boy Scout.” Leah says before drying her third glass of water.

“Who is Mark?” I question.

“Mark is an ex-lover of mine. At the time we were chatting and he had the house in Hawaii. One thing led to another and in the end he went along.” Leah ends with a frown.

“And why did we let him drive then?” I ask, full of curiosity. They look at me as if I know the answer. Or, as if I should, but I just raise my eyebrows, saying nothing.

“Because it's Mark.” Noah shrugs. “He likes to be in control of everything.”

“The one who was definitely happy with us there was that guy who owns the coconut stand.” Leah says.

So there it is, the little wooden stand, with a pile of coconuts in front of it. A short man, probably about 50 years old, laughing at our misfortune while selling the fruit to us. Images begin to form in my mind.

" “- Look there.” Kyleen and I focus on the little man laughing as he takes the money from Michael's hand. “He sure is very happy with us standing here.” Leah says.

“Of course he is. We already bought twelve coconuts from him. Bad little man.” I make a face.

“We're not lost. It's just a shortcut.” we cut off eye contact with the stand and focus on Mark arguing with Noah and Ashton.

Leah looked at her lover in total disbelief at what she had gotten herself into. If regret could kill. The next moment Mark stomps his foot on the floor, like a child with a temper tantrum. At that moment, Calum looks at me with wide eyes.

I look away so that he doesn't see me laughing. Kiki, who was behind me, slaps me to stop, but this only makes me want to laugh more. I hide my face in her arm and in the end, my laughter gets out of hand. Both she and Calum start laughing with me, causing the boys to look at us curiously.

It takes no more than five minutes for Mike to join in the laughter with us and soon everyone else was laughing except Mark. Even the little bad man was laughing. It was the worst thing about us being lost, but that's what was happening and it couldn't be anything but comical, even though it was sad too. ”

“Of course he was happy. He sold about fifteen coconuts for us.” I don't even try to control my smile. Once again I remembered, and this is more than great.

The twin couple in front of me crack a big smile too, and soon they are clapping their hands and stamping their feet on the floor, making noise. I clap my hands with them in celebration.

“She is coming back.” Noah comes around the table, hugging me from behind and again showering me with kisses.

I was never one to have many friends. Usually it was just Bethany and Stephen, and a girl in my music class, but I don't know if I can consider her that, after all, we only talked during class and it was all very unrelated.

The point is that I have always envied those people who managed to have a large number of friends, and friends really, not just colleagues. Friends who call you for everything, who are always by your side, who enjoy your company, and who consider you family.

In this moment, with just Noah and Leah, I can see that I finally have these friends that I have wanted so much and without having to pretend to be something that I am not, without having to buy their attention, as I felt I needed it with Bethany. And if I'm happy like this with just the two of them, I can't wait to see the others.

“So, you said you were reading your diary, did you remember anything else?” Leah asks excitedly.

All the happiness and euphoria that had surrounded my body disappears. The bloody page with the bloody day comes back into my mind. They both notice my mood drop.

“I remembered a day when I went to have coffee with Ash, but…” I play with the edge of my cup, trying not to get too much into that energy. “I found a day where I tell about what happened.” I look at them, who are serious and attentive.

“Do you want us to read it with you?” Leah holds my hand across the table, gently patting it.

I shake my head positively and point to the notebook on the coffee table in the living room. I watch her return with the notebook and hand it to me. I open it to the marked page and stare at my handwriting again.

"I haven't had the courage to tell either Ashton, Leah, or much less Luke. I can't tell if I'm ashamed of it or just afraid of it happening again. The problem is that it's really starting to get to me, to the point where I get irritated when I see Luke and Leah talking and it shouldn't be like that. So I need to get it all out so that I can start over.

It was our anniversary. I snuck out of my work to see Stephen at his house. I wanted to deliver his gift soon. Two streets before his house I ran into Noelle, his mother, and told her I wanted to surprise him, so she told me to get the key under the third vase and go in.

Maybe it would have been better just to ring the doorbell and not have to see it. I was very quiet so as not to be discovered, and in the end, I was the one who discovered something."

My racing heart hurts from beating so hard. I can't keep my breathing normal, holding it at various times. I feel like it's a suspense book where no one wants to find out what's behind the door of the abandoned house, but needs to, in order to continue the story.

I notice in some letters and words the ink smudged and I know it was from my tears and it only hurts me more.

"There is no word to describe the disgust, pain, and anger of seeing him and her in bed naked. My until then boyfriend, and my until then best friend.

And what only made it worse was that she didn't even try to explain herself, didn't show an ounce of regret, even if it was a pretense. Nothing. While he tried to say it was nothing like that, Bethany still says it had been going on for a long time."

I close the journal angrily and throw it away, stopping on the other side of the long table. The lump in my throat gets bigger, but I don't want to cry, not for this and not again.

Deep down, I have always had a flea behind my ear with the two of them. The countless rides Stephen insisted on giving her. The way she always motivated me to fight with him, for reasons I thought were small and insignificant. But it was my first serious relationship, what did I know about dating, right? Bethany, on the other hand, had dated seriously twice.

It had always been there, I just didn't want to see it.

“I always suspected it and never, never wanted to believe it. After all, he was my boyfriend and she was my best friend. They wouldn't be able to.” I let out a humorless laugh.

The twins look at me fearfully, as if I were a mother scolding them.

“But you know what the worst part is? I believed him. He looked me in the face and said that nothing happened. That Luke was to blame for our breakup! How stupid of me!” I shout, picking up the diary and throwing it further away, as if it would hurt Stephen.

“Wait, what?” Leah speaks loudly.

I look at her startled and realize what I said. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I didn't want anyone to know about the meeting.

“You met with Stephen? When?” she turns the table around, coming closer. I swallow dryly.

“Yesterday morning," I begin softly, but it was enough for Leah to cover her eyes with her hands and snort. Noah laid his head on his arms, sighing as well. “I was confused and needed to hear and see him.” I start to defend myself.

“After everything your mother told you about him?” Leah asks.

“And you think I would believe her? Would you? With amnesia on account?” I retort. Leah takes a deep breath and denies it with her head, giving me reason.

“But you could have told, or asked, I don't know.” Noah ponders.

“Nobody would have let me, I know nobody likes him and rightly so.” I give in.

“That explains a lot.” Leah comments softly, but loud enough for me to hear.

“Explains what?” I ask confused.

She looks at Noah, who nods, giving her the green light. Like me, she swallows dryly before she begins.

“Explain why Luke is so grouchy and weird. Not wanting to come see you.” he answers, poking at the seam of the chair.

NO! No! No! No! No! Please, no. He can't have seen.

“You have to take me to his house.” I ask, heading for the hall.

“What?” the two shout following me.

“I need to talk to him. Now!” I shout the last part, putting on a jacket with some difficulty.

“But why?” Noah helps me.

“Because I think he saw something that wasn't supposed to happen and got it wrong.” I open the door, going to call the elevator.

“Oh, no!” they understand and soon follow me.

Things between Luke and me may be messed up, but the last thing I want him to think is that I cheated on him.

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

Different (part five)

A/N: Here we are! The last part! Ahhh!! Can’t believe we made it this far!! Thank you to everyone who has read! All together, Different is 64 pages long which is just insane 🤯 Thanks a MILLION to everyone for EVERYTHING!! I couldn’t do this without you all 🤧 What a wild ride this has been🤧🤧

So……Happy reading 🤩🥳 And let me know your thoughts 😉

REQUEST/PROMPT: Unrequited Love

Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words

WC: 7.3K // fluff & slightly angst

*Flashback to 2017*

Shawn still had the studio headphones on, and his eyes were still closed as if he was still trying to get in the right mindset to record this song, but he knew everyone was silent. After what they all just heard, he knew no one would speak a word until he said something.

But after that song…What could he say?

He squinted one eye open, bracing for the worst, but he saw that everyone looked quite satisfied with themselves, “Uh,” Shawn coughed as he spoke into the microphone, “Do I need to cut it again? Re-record the bridge? Do another set of–––”

“It’s perfect, Shawn,” Andrew smiled at him as he clicked his phone off and slid it in his back pocket, “I’m going on a coffee run, anyone want anything?”

And just like that, four out of the five people in the room jumped up, offering to help with the order. Not even three seconds later, Andrew wrangled everyone out the door, and Shawn was left in the studio with Brian.

With a heavy sigh, he took off his headphones and hung them on the microphone stand. Whatever conversation he was about to have with Brian, he knew there was no way he could avoid it. Begrudgingly, he walked out from the sound booth and plopped down next to him. He rested his elbows on his knees where he buried his face into the palm of his hands.

“So…” Brian drummed his fingers on his lap, “Are we gonna talk about that song?”

“Talk about what?” Shawn grumbled into his hands even though he knew exactly what Brian was referring to.

Brian let out a short laugh, “Seriously? We’re not going to talk about how that song just screams Y/n?”

Shawn snapped his head up and looked at Biran, “It’s not––”

Brian cut him off with a glare, “Don’t play that game,” he then softened his eyes and spoke in a less accusatory tone, “Staring across the room and laughing? Saying how there’s nobody like her? Waiting for when she’s ready?” Brian gave his friend a pointed look, “This is a song about a best friend. This is a song about––”

“So what if it’s about her?” Shawn dramatically threw his arms up in the air and leaned his head back against the couch, not wanting to look his best friend in the eye, “It doesn’t matter because she doesn’t see me like that.”

“She literally looks at you like you personally hang the stars in the sky,” Brian said with a matter-of-fact tone, “How do you not see it?”

Shawn scoffed, “She has eyes for that guy in her quantitative whatever math class.”

“She’s literally only talked about him once,” Brian scoffed back at his friend, “But she’s always talking about you, always looking at you, always wanting to be around you.”

Lifting his head up from the back of the couch, Shawn looked at his friend with tired eyes, “I just needed to write the song to get it out of my system.”

“You don’t mean that,” Brain let out a sigh, because while neither you nor Shawn had confided your mutual feelings for one another with him, he knew the two of you had feelings for one another, “Trust me when I say that she likes you.”

“I more than like her,” Shawn blurted out before his mind could comprehend what he was actually saying. His eyes grew wide, but Brian’s eyes sparkled with hope, “No––I didn’t mean it like that––I don’t know if I like her like that anymore––She’s just––”

Brian shook his head, finishing off Shawn’s sentence for him, “Different?”

Shawn slowly nodded his head, resting his chin on his hands. You weren’t different in a bad way, his mind spoke to himself, but different in a way that he had trouble wrapping his head around what he wanted. He cherished your friendship like no one else, you were closer to him than any other friend he had, and he loved you so much.

You were different in that sense––That he loved you more than any of his other friends…And the love he had for you was different than a friendship.

“Yeah,” Shawn said with a distant voice, “Different.”

///

Present Day

It had been one month since you last saw Shawn weaving through the crowd of Brian’s party to leave. One month. But in that one month, you realized just how much you missed him. You thought day and night about what it would be like to be friends with him again––if it would be worth it. And it was when you stumbled across a photo booth strip of the two of you at his New Year’s Eve party when the ache in your heart grew to be too much.

So in that one month…You gained the courage to send him a text.

Right after you had your falling out nearly a year ago, you deleted all of your messages with Shawn, not wanting to be tempted to go back and read anything from him. You didn’t want to be reminded of how nice he was and crawl right back to him––You wanted to forget that he ever existed.

So it was a bit weird when you pulled up a new message, typed in his contact name, and no previous messages showed up.

With anxiety bubbling up in the depths of your stomach, you held your breath as you typed out your message.

Hey, Shawn, I think this is still your number––

Backspace.

Hi, Shawn, it’s me…Y/n––

Backspace.

Shawn! Hi! It’s Y/n, I hope you’re doing well––

Backspace.

Why was composing a text to your ex-best friend harder than anything else you’ve ever done? It was just a text message. A text message to a person who you once saw you sneeze chocolate milk out of your nose because he did something so outrageous it made you laugh.

But it felt different.

It’s not different, the rational part of your mind spoke up, he’s still your best friend even though the two of you haven’t talked in nearly a year––you know he misses you, he made that clear at Brian’s party.

Oh, but it is different––the irrational portion of your mind shouted over your other thoughts––you confessed to loving him, he said he didn’t feel anything for you, you haven’t talked in nearly a year, and he ran out after he saw you kiss that boy.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding in, and decided to just bite the bullet and send out the first message you typed.

Hey, Shawn. It’s Y/n! I was wondering if you were free on Saturday to go on a walk?

You hit send before any part of your brain could convince you otherwise. And right when the blue text bubble popped up on your screen, you felt your heart plummet into the anxiety that was at the bottom of your stomach.

What if he changed his number?

But it was a thought you didn’t have to dwell over for long because your phone chimed with a text message from the person on the other end.

Y/n! Hi…I’m glad to hear from you! I’m free all day Saturday so I can do whatever works for you x

A smile instantly spread across your face as you rapidly texted back a time and the location of the park you now walked at. And just as instantly as you texted him, he texted you right back that the time and place worked perfectly for him.

Little did you know that Shawn canceled all of his previous plans for Saturday just for your walk.

///

“I could’ve bought my own coffee,” You took a sip of the drink that your hand was wrapped around for warmth, “Thank you, but I could’ve done it.”

Shawn tipped his head back slightly in laughter, “Next time don’t go to the bathroom when I’m ordering,” He turned his head to look at you with a smile, “And it also helped that you haven’t changed your order.”

You looked down at your coffee cup, feeling all tingly on the inside just like you felt around him before everything blew up in your face. But you tried your hardest to push those feelings aside. You were planning on being friends with him; on a walk to rekindle your friendship.

“I’m buying next time,” you lifted your head up and smiled at him.

His eyes twinkled bright, “I’ll hold you to it––And then I’ll buy the time after that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your growing smile, as Shawn just confirmed he wanted to continue on going on walks, “And I’ll buy after that.”

Shawn faced his head forward, and from the corner of your eye, you saw that he was also trying to conceal his growing smile, “I think we have a good thing going.”

You nodded your head as the wind picked up a little, causing you to scrunch up your nose, “Seems like it.”

For the next nine minutes, the two of you walked in silence. In the beginning, it was a little uncomfortable, but the more you continued down the winding path, the silence wasn’t too bad. It almost felt like the old times where you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence––you were fine appreciating his presence more than any conversation.

It was a deep sigh from Shawn that broke the silence, “I…” He took a deep breath in through his nose, and then released it out through his mouth, “I owe you a real apology.”

You weakly smiled down at your sneakers, “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to talk about that day––”

“Y/n,” Shawn stopped in the middle of the pathway. Reluctantly, you stopped with him and looked into his remorseful eyes, “I was a dick––Like an absolute asshole to you––I have no reasoning for it other than I didn’t know how to respond to you and even that,” He kept his eyes trained on you, “Is a shitty excuse.”

A sharp pain in your chest was weighing down the happiness you first felt when you saw Shawn waiting for you at the entrance to the park. Because while you did think you deserved an apology, you didn’t want to be taken back to that day ever again.

“Thanks,” You nodded, “Can we get back to our walk?”

He held your gaze for a moment, waiting for you to say something else, but you kept your ground. With a soft sigh, he nodded his head and the two of you continued to walk in silence.

Five minutes passed before Shawn let out another sigh.

“You’re really not going to say anything?” His tone was full of defeat, he was expecting some sort of reaction from you, but you kept silent as he fell slightly behind. He jogged up back to his place next to you, “I literally said that you ruined our friendship. Said that you ruined tour––when you weren’t even there! And I got mad when you brought your boyfriend around––”

“So you were jealous?”

“That’s beside the point,” Shawn rolled his eyes, “The point is that you should be yelling at me, calling me every swear word in the dictionary, and maybe not even want to be this walk with me––”

“I was the one who texted you,” you stopped walking and Shawn instantly stopped his movements, “Why would I ask to hang out if all I was going to do was yell at you?”

Shawn let out a single breathy laugh, “Because I was a dick?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine,” you let out an aggravated breath, “I considered you the shittiest person ever, I cried for months, I thought I did ruin our friendship, I never expected to talk to you ever again” you looked up at him with sad eyes to see that his eyes mirrored yours, “And it hurt like hell. But we’re passed that––I’m passed that––and I want to try to be friends again.”

Shawn nodded his head solemnly, “I’m sorry,” you glared at him, “I know you said you didn’t want to hear it, but Y/n, I feel so terrible and I should probably be apologizing for the rest of my life because I actually felt––” It seemed as though his mind caught up to what he was saying and he cut himself off, “I’m sorry. I just want you back in my life.”

You let him fidget with his fingers in silence for a few seconds, “Again, thank you for the apology, I appreciate it, but please,” your voice cracked, “I really don’t want to talk about it any longer.”

Shawn nodded his head firmly, “I––Yes––Okay.”

“Okay,” you took a sip of your coffee, “Can we get back to our walk?”

Shawn tried his best to cover up his guilt with a smile as he checked his hip against yours, “Let’s get walking.”

///

“This is the third time in a row you’ve bought the coffee,” you glared at Shawn, who had a proud smile on his face, as you took a sip of your coffee, “I’ve only bought coffee for us once.”

Shawn tsked, “Should get here before me then.”

“I don’t know what time you show up!”

“Exactly,” he winked, “Which is the fun of it.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Come on, what time do you get here then?” He shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee, “Please tell me? Why won’t you tell me? Can we just agree on a time so then I could stand a chance to beat you at the coffee shop?”

Shawn took another sip of his coffee, this time with a smile on his face, but he still left your questions unanswered.

“Fine,” you said with a huff, “I’ll just get here two hours early.”

“You’d have to get here earlier than that.”

You choked on your coffee, covering your mouth with your hand so you wouldn’t spit it out, “Excuse me?”

“Kidding,” Shawn unconvincingly said with a weak laugh, “Kidding.”

Skeptically, you nodded your head, “So, what’s going on in the life of Shawn Mendes?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing much…Recording new music, responding to Andrew’s texts telling me to check my email, sleeping…” He sneaked a glance at you as he sipped his coffee, “Going on walks.”

“No girls?”

This time, Shawn was the one who choked on his coffee as he leaned forward and spat out the hot liquid.

“What?”

You pulled a napkin from your back pocket and handed it to him, “Just a question, I thought that…” Your words trailed off as you watched Shawn wipe the napkin across his chin, “Friends ask each other that kind of stuff?”

Your voice grew higher in pitch with every word, not feeling confident at all. On one hand, you wanted to be back in the role of the supportive best friend. But on the other hand…It would absolutely kill you to know if there was a girl in his life.

Because while you wanted your previous status as resident best friend back…You still coveted the spot of being his significant other.

“I mean yeah they do,” Shawn coughed and quickly shook his head, “But no…No girls.”

A chill––that you knew wasn’t from the cool spring breeze––caused you to shiver, “No Miranda?”

“That’s––How do––” you gave him a pointed look and his eyes widened in understanding.

The bathroom incident.

He said there were no girls, but the fact that he wasn’t outright denying anything with her caused your teeth to clench. It was a name that spun around your head like a revolving door.

Recently, she wasn’t taking up space in your mind, but when everything happened with Shawn all those months ago…She was the only thing you could think of.

While you were big on not judging people you haven’t met before, there was not a bone in your body that didn’t loathe her.

Again, he coughed, “No, I haven’t seen her in…” He squinted one of his eyes shut as he looked up at the sun trying to break through the clouds, “God, it’s been months––Nearly a year?”

Nearly a year.

He hasn’t seen her since the two of you had a falling out.

A triumphant smile took over your face that you tried to hide by taking a sip of your coffee, “Well, if there’s anyone…” He looked at you with raised eyebrows, mouth slightly parted, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, “I want to be the first to know.”

“How’re things with Charlie?”

It was your turn to look at him with shock written all over your face. Charlie was the last person you expected Shawn to bring up.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, actually…We stopped seeing each other.”

“Really?”

You nodded, eyes trained straight ahead at the trees that were slowly starting to grow their leaves back, “Yeah. About a month and a half ago,” you shrugged, “He’s nice and all but it’s just…It wasn’t going to work out.”

“Are you okay?”

When you looked over at him, you saw that his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were filled with genuine concern, “I––I think?” You took a sip of your coffee, “It was nice while it lasted but I––It was mutual––” lie, “––We both thought we’d be better off as friends.”

Shawn slowly nodded his head, concern still prevalent on his face, “Break ups suck and if you ever need anyone…” he offered you a small smile, “I’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Shawn,” You smiled at him, squinting your eyes slightly from the sun,, as it finally shined brightly through the clouds, “I really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Shawn said with a smile on his face as he went to take a sip of his coffee.

From your peripheral vision, you noticed that he took a sip of his coffee to hide the smile on his face. It was the same smile you tried to hide from him when you found out there weren’t any girls present in his life.

Maybe you did just as terrible of a job at hiding your smile from him.

///

This time, when you rode up the elevator to Brian’s apartment for one of his infamous parties, you were alone.

There was no Charlie. There was no Shawn. And…You were okay with that.

You stepped off the elevator with a smile on your face and let yourself into Brian’s apartment when you got to his door. And just like every other time you walked into Brian’s apartment, he was downing whatever drink he had in a red solo cup.

“Y/n!” He yelled out your name with a smile as he came barreling into you, “I’ve missed you!”

You smiled into the hug, giving him a quick squeeze before he released you, “I’ve missed you too,” you said with a chuckle as Brian took hold of your wrist to drag you into the kitchen.

“You need a drink,” he dropped your wrist as he went rummaging around the fridge. He pulled out a can of coke and twisted his head back to you, “Vodka coke?”

“Sure,” you said as you leaned your back against the counter.

Brian opened the can with a psssh noise following as he poured the can into a red cup, “So,” he crushed the can when all the soda was out, “We haven’t been on any walks lately.”

You stiffened, “Um––Yeah––I––We should get back to that.”

“Mhm,” Brian hummed as he kept his eyes trained on the vodka he poured into your glass, and admittedly, it looked like a little too much for your liking, “Have you still been going on walks?”

“What do you mean?” You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Brian stifled a laugh, “No need to get defensive,” he passed you your drink as you took a whiff of it, smelling the strong scent of vodka, “Have you replaced me on our walks?”

You took a big sip of the toxic drink Brian made for you to get out of answering. But he stood there in front of you, patiently waiting for your answer with a smirk on his face.

Setting the drink down on the counter, you coughed into the crook of your elbow to clear out the leftover sting of vodka on your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t say replaced––”

Brian mirrored your position; leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you with a knowing glint in his eyes, “Don’t even try and hide it.”

You let your shoulders drop as your eyes went down to look at your shoes, “Did Shawn tell you?”

“No.” His voice was smug. You whipped your head up with wide eyes to look at him, “It’s just obvious.”

“Obvious?”

Brian nodded his head, “Both of you seem happier…” he offered you a smile, “And if you were still upset with him, you would’ve asked if he was coming tonight so you could avoid him.”

“That’s not––”

His pointed look cut you off because there had been a few occasions where you purposefully avoided Shawn before you decided to reconnect with him.

You let out a huff, “Fine, okay, we’re friends again.”

“Friends?” Brian raised his eyebrows, “Have you talked about––”

You swiped your cup up from the counter and took two big sips, scrunching your nose up in distaste, “He apologized, I was appreciative that he apologized, we’re moving on.”

“You still like him.”

You had just brought the red cup away from your lips, hand freezing in the air, as Bian’s words echoed in your mind.

You still like him.

Did you still like him? On your walks with him you were beginning to feel that familiar warmth whenever he brushed up against you. You were starting to feel like you couldn’t stop smiling around him again. And you were beginning to feel the giddiness, nervousness, and butterflies in your stomach again.

You told Shawn your feelings, the irrational part of your brain piped up, if anything were to happen it already would’ve happened––He doesn’t like you like that, he made that clear.

But, the rational portion of your brain reasoned, things aren’t the same as they were a year ago. Both you and Shawn have changed, you’re not the same people, things change…Feelings change.

“We’re just going on walks,” you took a tiny sip of your drink.

Brian hummed, “So you wouldn’t freak out if I said he just walked through the door?”

“What?!”

You whipped your head around to the front door, eyes searching through the few people who congregated near the front door, but you didn’t see the familiar mop of brown curls. You searched harder for him, but still didn’t see him.

You narrowed your eyes at Brian, “Fuck you.”

Brian laughed with a shrug of his shoulders, “He’s been here for nearly an hour.”

You brought the cup up to your lips to take a sip as you rolled your eyes, “Sure.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“When have I ever?”

Brian brought his fingers up to his lips and whistled loud, “Shawn!”

And like a dog being called by their owner, Shawn emerged from the crowd, heading straight into the kitchen with a confused stare…Until his eyes brightened up when they landed on you. You spat what little alcohol you had in your mouth back into the cup and glared at Brian.

“You should trust me more often.”

The way he said it, with a hint of glee in his eyes, was almost as if he was alluding to previous events.

You brushed him off and set your red solo cup on the counter as Shawn made his way to where you stood with Brian. The three of you stood in a triangle in silence.

Shawn slipped his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels, “Y/n, hi,” he finally said after a few beats of silence, “Is he bothering you?” He jerked his head over to Brian with a laugh.

You chuckled, “Always.”

“Y/n was just telling me about your walks,” Brian gave Shawn a pointed stare. Shawn’s eyes widened as he looked toward you, silently asking if you told him, but you shook your head. “Seems as though I’ve been replaced by you.”

You cleared your throat, “I think I saw Olivia when I walked in,” you set your cup down on the counter, abandoning the alcohol, “Haven’t seen her in a bit…” Your eyes darted between Shawn and Brian, “I think I’m gonna say hi.”

With a deep breath, you scooched past Shawn as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, momentarily stopping you from walking around him, “We’ll catch up later?”

While you wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost time, being around him––alone––still made you nervous. But you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Sure.”

You didn’t see Olivia when you walked in. You had no idea if she was even here. But one thing you did know was that if you were going to ‘catch up’ with Shawn…You needed a breather before.

And that’s how you ended up in Brian’s room––again––with your head in your hands, wondering to yourself if you were starting to like Shawn again.

But deep down, you knew that your feelings for him never went away.

///

“So, Shawn,” Brian said as he watched you walk off down the hall to his bedroom, he smiled, “What’s going on?”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders as he tried to push Brian away from the fridge, wanting to grab a beer before he knew exactly what topic he was going to bring up.

Brain didn’t budge, “I need you sober for this conversation.”

“It’s not like I’ve been under the influence the countless other times we’ve had this conversation,” Shawn took up your previous place at the counter and leaned against it, crossing his arms, “I don’t see why I can’t have a drink.”

Brian raised his eyebrows and gestured his hands toward the path you walked away from them, “Don’t you see? This is your chance.”

Shawn shook his head, as he picked up the drink that you left on the counter. He took one sniff of it and pulled his head back, nose scrunched up in disgust, “God, what was she drinking?”

“I made it,” Brian proudly smiled.

“Disgusting,” Shawn said right before he took a sip. He instantly regretted it when he felt more alcohol hit the back of his throat rather than coke, “Were you trying to give her alcohol poisoning?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders, “She drank it––But stop going off topic,” he glared at Shawn because he knew exactly how his friend tried to deflect attention, “She still likes you.”

Shawn scoffed, “After how I treated her? I’m surprised she’s giving me the time of day.”

“And that’s why she still likes you,” Brian tried to emphasize his point, “If she didn’t like you anymore she would’ve deleted your number, never wanted to see you again––let alone go on walks with you––She texted you first!”

“So?” Shawn let out a deep sigh as he rubbed the toe of his boot on the floor, “I missed my chance. She said she loved me for years––years,” Shawn said in a pained voice, “That means we both liked each other at the same time at one point and we didn’t do anything about it.”

“You both like each other now,” Brian said softly, “Forget the past––” he was cut off after Shawn glared at him, “Okay, maybe not forget the past, because you were an asshole and need to learn from your mistakes––but,” Shawn glared at Brian again, “Trust me when I say she still likes you.”

Shawn picked up the forgotten cup and threw his head back to finish off the rest of the horrible mixed drink. He let out a little ah as he felt the burn in his throat, “She won’t talk about it with me. We’re not at that stage yet––”

“Your friends,” Brian rolled his eyes as he lifted himself off from the fridge, “I get it.” He patted Shawn’s shoulder, “Also, Olivia’s not here tonight.”

With that information, Shawn’s ears perked up and he tilted his head at Brian. But he just patted his shoulder one more time before walking to the living area.

If Olivia wasn’t at the party…Then she wasn’t out there mingling with everyone else, Shawn thought to himself. And it was then that he realized what Brian was trying to tell him without explicitly saying anything; that you were alone, most likely in Biran’s room, waiting for him to come talk to you.

At least he hoped you were waiting for him, Shawn thought to himself as he said a Hail Mary, and walked down the hall to Brian’s room.

///

Like the last time you were at Brian’s place for a party, you found yourself in his room trying to clear your head. Why did he feel the need to put all those doubts in your head? You were finally coming to peace with just being friends with Shawn. But with everything Biran was trying to insinuate…It only muddled your thoughts more.

And like the last time you were in Brian’s room, you saw a sliver of light come from the door opening. But this time you knew who walked through the door.

Slowly, you lifted your head up from your hands and offered him a shy smile, “Hey.”

Shawn returned your smile, “Thought you were catching up with Olivia?”

Your smile wavered as you tried to come up with an excuse, “I––Uh––It wasn’t her, just someone who looked like her.”

He nodded his head as he stood in front of you, rocking back and forth from heel to toe, “Can I sit?”

All it took was a slight nod of your head and Shawn took a few long strides until he sat next to you. His legs were spread apart, one of his knees occasionally touching yours, as he hunched over a bit. His forearms rested on his thighs and his folded hands dangled between his legs, “So…”

You stayed silent.

“I––The weather was nice today?”

You were a little confused with his small talk––especially how his sentence tapered off into the form of a question. But you nodded your head, not knowing where he was going with it, “Yeah…Little chilly for spring, but it was…Okay.”

More silence.

The ringing in your ears was getting relentless and you were starting to feel uncomfortably hot sitting anxiously next to Shawn. Whenever he deeply exhaled out of his nose, you heard it loud and clear, and it sounded as if he was trying to calm down while simultaneously motivate himself.

You go on walks with him, you thought to yourself, you shouldn’t be this nervous to be alone in a room with him.

But you were more than nervous. You felt the anxiety in your stomach grow more with each passing second of silence, you heard voices in your mind taunting you about your failed attempt at sharing your feelings with him, and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that was warning you that something was about to happen.

Not wanting to stick around for whatever your gut was saying, you pressed your hands on your thighs, standing up from the edge of Brian’s bed, “I should probably go––”

Shawn’s hand shot out to your wrist, somewhat firm to keep you in place, but also loose enough that if you wanted to, you could walk away from him.

“So you––uh––You used to go on walks with Brian?” Shawn blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. It seemed as though he would say anything to make you stay.

Slowly, you nodded your head and sat back down when you felt him tug your wrist, “We ran into each other and it just sorta…Happened.”

Shawn hummed, “And then you stopped?”

“I started going on walks with you.”

A brief smile came across Shawn’s face as he peaked up at you, “I like going on walks with you.”

You gulped, you heard the undertone of the message loud and clear, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to re-hash everything, “I’ve been in Brian’s room for too long––”

“Maybe don’t leave…” He placed his hand on top of yours this time. Slowly, he flipped your hand around, palm facing up, as he slotted your fingers together, “Not just yet.”

Having Shawn hold your hand like this––like more than a best friend––was something you wished whenever you saw a shooting star. Unlike all the other times you held hands with him when you were just friends, it was always just a loose hold, and your fingers were never intertwined.

But now, he was holding your hand intentionally. With his fingers tangled with yours, it felt like he wanted to create a knot that was impossible to detangle.

You were torturing yourself by looking at your hands together, as you spoke barely above a whisper, “What are you doing?”

“Something different.”

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes, “We can’t keep going around in circles.”

“I don’t want to go around in circles anymore,” Shawn squeezed your hand, “I want this.”

You clenched your teeth together, letting out an aggravated breath, as you picked your head up to look at him, “We’re not doing this again.”

“Y/n,” Shawn pleaded with you, “I––Not having you in my life was the worst–––”

“And whose fault was that?” You wanted to rip your hand away, but it had been so long since you last had any physical contact with him. And you missed the warmth that flooded your veins when you were connected with him.

Shawn’s shoulders fell, “It was all my fault. But not being with you––Whenever there was good news, you were always the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted to call you and hear about your day. And I realized that I never want to lose you again.”

One…Two…Three…Four…

“Do you even like me like that, Shawn?”

His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape, as he looked at you with shock evident on his face. But he blinked a few times, coming back to reality, as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “Why wouldn’t I––Of course I like you like that.”

“Are you sure you don’t miss our friendship?” His hand squeezed around yours at the mention of that word, “We were apart for so long. Are you sure you just don’t miss that?”

Shawn shook his head, “I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying––”

“I understand perfectly,” you cut him off, “You told me that I shouldn’t feel these feelings for you. You were the one who was so adamant about not ruining our friendship––”

Shawn continued to shake his head, “I’ve liked you for so long––”

“And I was so in love with you,” you ducked your head down and sniffled, “For so long. And now…I don’t understand you.”

Slowly, you started to pull your hand away from his grasp, but he only held your hand tighter, this time not giving you an option to leave. Because he knew if you left, the chance of you two becoming more than friends would be off the table.

“Please,” Shawn tugged on your hand for you to look up at him, but you still kept your head down, “When You’re Ready is about you, my feelings for you back then were so…Strong that I had to write it out, but I didn’t think you felt the same way. I wanted more, but at the time we were just friends.”

You picked your head up and narrowed your eyes at him, “And you didn’t tell me this when I told you I loved you?”

“How was I supposed to react?” His voice was full of shame, “I didn’t know you were in love with me and it scared me––”

“Do you know how scared I was to tell you?” Your voice was soft, almost fragile, as if you could feel your heart breaking all over again, “And when you said you didn’t feel the same and I––”

“Hey,” Shawn shushed you as he heard your voice grow higher in pitch, cracking at the end of your sentence. Hesitantly, he brought a hand up to cup the side of his face, as he shifted his body to face you, “It’s––I know I’ll never be able to apologize enough for what I did.“

He gulped, briefly breaking eye contact before looking up at you with pleading eyes, “I felt so lost without you and I realized that what we had was always more than a friendship. And the only time I felt relatively okay was when I saw you in the park last December,” his eyes softened, “Even though you told me off…Those ten minutes with you made me feel something.”

“This could really ruin our friendship,” you mumbled as you felt his knees knock against yours.

Shawn hummed in acknowledgement.

“How––” you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat as Shawn’s, once still thumb, started rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, “How will we do this?”

He hummed again, not giving you a proper response.

“This,” you felt your heart stop as he leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, “If something happened between us would Brian have to choose?”

“I really don’t want to be thinking about Brian right now.” He spoke as you felt his breath hit your face.

“What––”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shawn tsked with a subtle laugh as his eyes closed. He slightly leaned his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“What if we mess up?”

Shawn opened his eyes, brown eyes full of sincerity, “I’d rather mess up than not know what it felt like to try.”

And without anymore excuses to spurt out, Shawn ducked his head and captured your lips in a kiss. Even though you knew the kiss was coming, you still let out a slight noise of surprise, but you didn’t back away.

You sighed into the kiss as he held the back of your neck, wanting to keep you as close to him as possible. At the same time you rested your free hand right above his knee, he slid his tongue in past your lips.

The more you kissed him, the more you thought about how right he was. You would rather mess up trying––with him––than not know what this felt like. You put your friendship on the line the first time, and it suffered greatly, but now that the two of you were on the same page about feeling something more for each other…It seemed silly to let the opportunity go to waste.

Even though you’d waited years to know how his lips felt against yours––you didn’t count the drunk pecks with each other as real kisses––you pulled away. He followed your lips to press one last kiss against them before leaning his forehead against yours.

A few moments of silence passed, “Should we…” You couldn’t help the glowing smile that spread across your face, “Should we head back?”

“Let’s stay here for a few more minutes.”

You nodded your head, pulling away from him brushing his nose against yours, as you scooted up right next to him––so that your thighs were touching––and leaned your head on his shoulder. You felt Shawn release a content sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and rested his head on top of yours.

Neither of you knew how long you sat on the edge of Brian’s bed for, but you were in comfortable silence, appreciating feeling close to one another. It was Shawn’s hand giving you a squeeze that brought you out of your blissful daydreaming.

“Ready to head back?”

You snuggled your head further into the crook of his neck and shook your head mumbling a no.

You felt Shawn’s chest rumble with a bit of laughter as he untangled your hands and threw an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close, “Neither am I, but you know how much Brian hates when people are in his room.”

Nodding against his shoulder you let out a sigh, “Alright.”

Shawn peeled his arm off from you as he stood up, but he extended his hand to help you off the bed. With a smile, you reached out for his hand as he pulled you up, sliding his fingers in between yours as the two of you walked out the door.

Even when the two of you stopped at the end of the hallway, eyes scanning the apartment seeing how many more people showed up, he still held your hand tight.

“I’m going to grab water from the kitchen,” He looked down at you, “Want anything?”

You smiled, “Just a water please.”

Shawn nodded his head, but before he left for the kitchen, he slid his index finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes shined with admiration for you, and he quickly lowered his head to press a chaste peck to your lips.

“Be right back,” you watched him stalk off to the kitchen with a lovesick smile on your face that you didn’t try and hide.

“So,” Brian seemed to appear out of nowhere as he slid up against the wall, “You told him?”

You didn’t know how he knew, but Brian always seemed to know your true feelings for Shawn. You just hummed in response.

Brain let out a small laugh, the familiar hint of glee was back in his eyes whenever he mentioned you and Shawn together, “And he told you?”

You tore your eyes away from Shawn uncapping two water bottles to look at Brian, “We talked.”

“Knew it,” Brian’s smile was wider than yours, “Called it from the beginning.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, “You knew nothing.”

He softly smiled at you, “He’s always been in love with you, ya know? He always talked about it.” His soft smile transformed into a smirk, “And it was so obvious you were in love with him. I’m surprised he didn’t know.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, finally knowing that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Deciding not to respond to Brian, you turned your head back to Shawn who was chatting with a friend in the kitchen as he poured the waters into red cups.

He was already staring at you, every now and then glancing at the person who was rapidly talking to him. But his eyes perked up with happiness when he saw you return his gaze.

You slightly tilted your head, furrowing your eyebrows as you glanced at the person who was talking to him, mouthing a “who?”

Shawn raised his shoulders in a shrug as he let out a small laugh, one that you returned.

You kept your eyes trained on Shawn as he politely excused himself from the person as he placed the plastic bottles into the recycling container. He went back to grab the two cups full of water, and even as he weaved through the crowd to get back to you, politely dodging more conversations, his eyes never left yours.

You let out a content sigh, your heart picking up speed, with every step he took closer to you. And when he reached you, he handed you the cup of water, throwing an arm around your shoulder. He pulled you in close to his side as he nonchalantly struck up a conversation with Brian.

Even though you had no idea what their topic of conversation was about, you blindly nodded along to whatever they said. The only thought you had swirling around in your head was how nice it felt when Shawn either squeezed your shoulder or slightly ran the tips of his fingers along your bicep.

Things were different now.

You tilted your head to the side, craning your neck up to look at Shawn’s side profile. And just like every time––since the start of your friendship––when either of you looked at each other, the other one almost looked back instantly. He smiled down at you, ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, and you felt your smile grow even wider.

A good different.

taglist (add/remove yourself!) : @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @http-isabela, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @now-that-i-saw-u @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @shawn-youth, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @madatmendes @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter

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hollanderfangirl · 4 years

Text

I'm Yours |Harry Holland|

A/N: my first ever smut!!!!! It's here!!! Idk how good this is lol, but Harry with his wet curls tho omfg.

Also I'm so sorry to all those of you named Courtney, y'all are lovely people I swear, I just needed a name lol.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: smuttttttt, oral (f. receiving), a little bit of body insecurity, shitty beginning lol

It was just another typical Friday night. You and Harry were at the club, you had a few shots and were already feeling dizzy, as you had a lower tolerance than Harry, while he was on his third glass of beer. You swing your head along the loud music playing in the background, enjoying the moment.

You see a girl walking towards you both and Harry seemed to recognise her.

“Hey oh my god Harry!” she says, hugging him.

“Hey Courtney!” Harry stands and moves closer to her, completely ignoring you. Usually you never minded what girls Harry talked to or but this Courtney gave you some weird vibes, you couldn’t really put your finger on why you were feeling that way about her, your gut was just telling you that she was bad news. They chat for a while and then Harry introduces you to her.

“Oh I… hi. I never knew Harry was so versatile with his type”

“Excuse me?” you getting pissed off now, yeah what the fuck does she mean?

“Ah nothing, just that when we dated, Harry was like completely obsessed with me so I just- you know? I just thought he would date someone like me”

“What do you mean someone like you?” you say eyeing her, you didn’t care if you were coming off as rude now, she was being mean to you. And Harry knew it. You knew that he knew it but he still didn’t say anything.

“Well I just mean-“

“Umm..Courtney, y/n is tired now, she just- we’ve had a few shots, maybe we can catch up later?” Harry interrupts her and she gives him a kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye and leaving.

“What the hell was that?” your voice was surprisingly calm compared to the ranging emotions you were feeling at that moment.

“What? She was just my friend”

“Friend? Or your fucking ex girlfriend?”

“Oh so that’s what this is about? Yes we dated for a while but now it’s over”

“Oh really? Then why was she all over you like that? And did you even listen to what she said? What the fuck did she mean by I’m not your type?!”

“She never said you’re not my type. She just said…that she thought…I would date someone like her”

“Yeah well that’s the same thing” you get up and take your purse in your hand.

"Courtney is… it was no use talking against her. I know she would never change, I didn't want to create a scene. That was the reason we broke up, you know"

“Whatever I’m going, I don’t feel like staying here anymore”

"Where are you going?"

"To die!" you were more than angry now, you never felt this way but there was just something about Harry’s attitude tonight that made you mad.

"Well how are you planning....on dying?"

"By jumping into the river Thames! God dammit Harry!"

"Y/n wait," He holds your hand and looks at your eyes. He looked concerned, he loved you and cared about you a lot. You knew that. But the thing that pissed you off the most was that he didn’t even say anything. He was just standing there while his ex girlfriend insulted you.

"Just go tomorrow. You know the water is cold at night"

"Ugh you!" you detach yourself from him and start to walk away.

"Wait wait wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, y/n," He laughs. "Come here"

He pulls you closer into a hug but you push him away. He doesn’t follow you outside and honestly you don’t even care. You call an uber and head home. You think about all the times you had with Harry. You knew he loved you. But did he? Did he really think that you were not his type? You weren’t feeling sad or angry anymore. It was just like a weird feeling you couldn’t explain.

When you reach home, you head straight for the shower. You stand in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom and look at yourself. You were not really insecure about your body usually but today was just one of those days when you were feeling down. You take your dress off, followed by your bra and panties and examine your body. You knew that you were beautiful, that your body was beautiful. But still you were not able to convince yourself at this exact moment.

You step in the shower, and close your eyes, feeling the warmth of the water hitting your skin. Your thoughts were still on you and Harry, you wondered if he went back to Courtney after you left.

You hear the door open and you know it's Harry. You hear footsteps all the way up the stairs and the bathroom door unlocking. He strips before pushing the shower curtain away and stands behind you. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't do anything. He's just standing there. You feel his hot breath on your shoulder and his cheek against your wet hair. He's just leaning onto you silently, with water pouring onto you both. Your heart beats faster and you're breathing heavily, furrowing your eyebrows as you feel his weight on your back.

You both feel the tension in the air, you're trying so hard, not to turn around and just give in to him. With your naked bodies pressed together, the intimacy in this moment was more than anything. His ex girlfriend and the club seemed like distant memories now, you just wanted to be one with him now.

"Baby... " he whispers in your ear. "Come on.. I'm sorry" he holds your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. his voice was so low, as if he didn't want to ruin the silence. You notice the slow noise of water hitting the tiles of the bathroom and the water from the shower wasn't the only thing making you wet.

You slowly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, you are breathing each other’s breaths and your lips are just inches apart. You are shaking and feel the goosebumps on your arms, as he puts his calloused hands on your waist, drawing small circles on the curves of your hips.

You try to avoid his eyes when you look up at him and put your lips on his. You taste the beer from before and his breath is warm. He traces your lower lip with his and smoothly smacks against yours. He grabs your ass and pulls you closer, kissing you harder, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You put your hand on his chest, moaning into the kiss.

He picks you up and takes you to your shared bedroom, gently putting you down on the bed. He kisses along the curve of your neck, slowly sucking the skin and amorously brushing his face on your cheek. You feel his soaking hair on your neck, it was a little colder now, with the lack of warm water from the shower. But both of your bodies rubbing together produced a gentle heat, giving you comfort.

He massages your tits slowly, giving them hot kisses all over and he moves all the way down to your stomach, leaving marks all over your body.

He sits down on his knees between your legs as you clench around nothing, longing for him. He moves closer to your wet heat and hums against it, you bring in your legs closer and try to scoot away, an involuntary reaction, but Harry pulls you towards himself and prys your legs open and slowly licks a swipe up your folds.

You arch your back, savouring this moment, he grinds onto you further and you feel yourself practically drip into his mouth.

You see his wet curls between your thighs and feel water dripping down and soaking onto the mattress below you. He flicks your clit with his tongue and sucks it harshly, you try to bite back a moan and he pushes his tongue into your pussy. "Come on baby...I- I wanna hear my name on that pretty mouth," he purrs.

"Ahh.. Harry… need- I need you, Harry" you sounded so desperate but that's what you needed. You needed him. You wanted him.

He removes himself from you and you whine at the sudden lack of contact, he smirks at you in the dim light of the bedroom, with your wetness drooling from his chin.

Without wasting any time he gets on top of you and starts sucking your sweet spot again.

You thought he would tease you, make you beg for him like he always did. But he knew what you were feeling. He wanted to make you feel good tonight. He wanted to make you feel loved tonight.

He enters you, slowly and steadily, filling out every crevice of you, reaching out to a dept no one ever has. He thrusts forward, and small bursts of pleasure erupts inside you. When you moan louder, he pounds into you harder, groaning above you. "Ahh fuck…. y/n...fucking...hell"

The room is filled with both of your loud moans, it's just you and him in this moment, nobody else. Nobody. You were his and he was yours. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, with his chest was pressed against yours. You felt so safe in his arms, like you were the last two people left on earth. You just wanted to stop time and be with him like this, forever and ever.

He looks straight into your eyes as you feel yourself release, sweat and water dripping from his forehead and hair. It wasn't long before he comes with a loud grunt. He keeps his pace for a few more seconds, letting you both ride out your high.

He pulls out of you and lays down panting, beside you.

"I'm yours, okay?" his breathing was still heavy. "Only yours"

"I know that," you smile and peck his lips. "You're only and only mine, baby boy"

Smuts taglist-

@mischiefmanaged011 @notsosmexy @perspectiveparker @justanothermarvelmaniac @missguidedlani @purpleskiesstorm @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @peterspideysstuff @musicalkeys @theliterarymess

#harry holland smut #harry holland #harry holland fluff #harry holland imagine #harry+holland+x+y/n #smut #harry holland fic #harry holland angst

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sourbat · 4 years

Text

And Then-

Words: 2800

Rating: T

Pairing: Toki Wartooth/Magnus Hammersmith

Summary: “Hammertooth, as told by the Dethklok Minute.”

There was nothing that could be done to completely vanquish the paranoia, even with the presence of half a dozen committed klokateers, so Toki knowingly made a point to always bring a disguise, to try and play it safe and drink one less bottle than normal, take one less hit than he preferred, because the last thing he wanted to do was prove Magnus’ fears correct.

Toki was there the first time it happened. Worse, he was with the whole gang, reclining comfortably in the hot tub, finished giving Skwisgaar a high five, when Nathan flicked the television on, revealing The Dethklok Minute host’s marred face.

“Today I bring you a blast from the past. We’re talking ancient history here, folks! Famed rhythm guitarist, Toki Wartooth, was recently seen chatting it up with none other than ex-Dethklok, and failed solo artist, Magnus Hammersmith. The two were seen causing quite the scene outside of the Griffith observatory, resulting in them being kicked out from the premises. Apparently, Hammersmith couldn’t handle the extra attention. Real shame, Hammersmith, it’s as close to the stars as you’ll ever get!”

They laughed when they saw the images, the brief video clip of Magnus angrily grabbing and tossing someone’s phone off the cliff, and the hilarious tweets shared by fans that all seemed to focus on how desperate and loathsome Magnus was in comparison to him. There was nothing he could say, whine or threaten to calm the rest of the band down. The day only grew progressively worse as he checked his phone, spotting new threads and comments on all the platforms he frequented, but not hearing a single word from Magnus.

He must have sent a dozen messages, and earned no reply until late at night, when news had reached every corner of the internet.

Thankfully, Magnus took it rather well, or as well as anyone with little to no say in the matter could. When they finally got together, Magnus was clearly upset, but he was more ashamed at himself for causing a huge scene and threatening a bunch of regular jack-offs for poking fun of him, mad for setting himself up for this disaster, and regretted that he pulled Toki and Dethklok into yet another one of his messes.

Once it was out, they discussed the next step. The public knew they were together in some form, but how much was still up in the air. Romance was currently out of the equation, or wasn’t suspected. Magnus treated it as a small relief; Toki, on the other hand, viewed it differently. The mean gossips centered on Magnus wouldn’t just go away if people continued to treat him as Toki’s inferior. If they came out not as competitors, but as partners, as equals, as a real couple…

When Toki raised the idea to Magnus, he spun it differently. They should come out now before the world figures it out on their own. Rip off the bandage on their own terms, and get the rumors done and over with.

The world was going to talk about them whether they liked it or not, so… why not try to have fun?

Why hide it and pretend they were only friends?

“Welcome back to the Dethklok Minute! Toki Wartooth and Hammersmith were seen together exiting Club Rhapsody on Sunset Blvd. The two barely made it five steps before Mr. Wartooth was bombarded by fans. It took several klokateers shooting down crazed fans to get their claws off Toki Wartooth. Meanwhile, here’s an image of poor ol’ Hammersmith, left out in the dust. Good thing he’s already used to it, though!”

That time Magnus was pissed. He hadn’t even done anything that night, and was the soberer of the two. Sure, they were both piss-drunk, but Magnus had been reasonable enough to leave his keys behind, to tell Toki they needed to leave once it got too crowded, and tried being civil despite the crowds, their disguises slipping off, and people flashing lights in every direction just to say they were in the same club as Toki Wartooth.

Unless given the orders, the klokateers didn’t bother trying to protect Magnus, or shoo away fans who had nothing better than to accuse him of trying to latch on to fame, being a parasite, or an unsightly thorn in Toki’s side. The burden always fell on Toki. He had to be the one to grab Magnus and reel him in, remind him to count to ten, to hold his tongue, to try and be the better man despite the rumors and open remarks.

It didn’t take long for forums to pose the much-feared question, one Toki hadn’t regarded until Magnus very frustratingly pointed it out:

How far back do they go?

Then Toki understood Magnus’ fears. With discussions digging deeper into their pasts, Toki knew it would only be a matter of time before rumors of his disappearance resurfaced, and people connected whatever dots they wanted to reach their preferred conclusions.

The following months proved too challenging.

He couldn’t blame Magnus for all those close calls. Toki didn’t blame him when Magnus eventually did snap, and lash out. Magus never laid a finger on him, but the yelling…the yelling and the misdirected rage terrified him.

It was Magnus who suggested the break.

Once again, Toki couldn’t bring himself to blame Magnus, even when everyone else at Mordhaus did.

The truth stung. The loneliness ached. The rumors persisted. Toki waited and watched the news, counting the weeks until the much-needed silence finally died down. It never did. Though the conversations decreased, there was never a point in time where comments online didn’t lead to Magnus, tweets or tags that brought up the name, and the terrible rumors surrounding their relationship persisted. It was the suckiest time of Toki’s life as he waited for Magnus’ return, for the world to get over this strange obsession, and for things to return to the way it was before.

Two months later, Magnus returned from the shadows on his own accord, and begged for Toki’s forgiveness and yet another chance at proving he could handle the unwanted attention, so long as it meant keeping Toki’s. Almost immediately after they reunited, the pictures and videos returned, but this time Magnus made a point to ignore it, to do his absolute best to take it all in stride and make the most of their limited time together.

Toki welcomed Magnus with open arms, more relieved than anything that Magnus didn’t give up on the two of them, and was willing to try and make this work.

“While on tour in England, fans caught glimpses of Toki and Mr. Hammersmith just outside of the Tower of London, harassing the local avian residents, and later caught pissing into the River Thames. Well, you know the saying: boys will be boys. In bigger news, Nathan Explosion played the lead role at The Globe’s recent…”

Then, one day, Magnus was no longer the main story. He wasn’t the butt of the joke. He wasn’t the focus of any folly that took place between them. Now Magnus had a title. Now he was just another one of the boys. Maybe not a member of Dethklok, but someone within the circle. A person who demanded some respect.

It took several months, but Magnus was accepted as another regular figure in Toki’s life. Like Dr. Rockso, Magnus was treated less as a person of interest, a living target, and more a colorful object that Toki took alongside him to various places, adding to the curiosity and allure of their already complex relationship. Unlike the clown, though, the well of controversy had long since run dry, and nasty statements about the older man were quickly replaced with random jokes, silly rumors about Skwisgaar being replaced, and then–

Magnus started smiling, really smiling, again.

And then–

“Today I bring you none other than our favorite buddy-duo: Toki Wartooth and Magnus Hammersmith! The two guitarists were seen sneaking out the back of Cruachan’s, carrying a wasted William Murderface before being accosted by some rapid fangirls. Luckily for them, Murderface was there to scare them away. Hey, Murderface, didn’t anyone tell you three is a crowd?”

It was already a big enough deal that Toki convinced Murderface to join in, drink and talk with Magnus, maybe reconcile some past grudges and start afresh. Now people were curious to know why Magnus was so well-liked. In the eyes of the fans, Dethklok was reaching out to Magnus, which meant Magnus couldn’t possibly be that bad of a guy. The focus on Magnus returned, but with a different change in tone. He was Toki’s buddy. A mentor. A reliable father figure.

Magnus read each new role, and grew paranoid for the one that he knew would soon arise from the depths of internet forums.

Another month went by, then another, and after doing their best to avoid the media, to pay extra attention when making exchanges, their reprieve arrived in the form of funny jingles and images depicting the two of them as nothing short of the best of friends. The host of the show played it well, acting as though he never had a hand in spreading lies about them, and treated their nightly excursions, trips and secret dates as just another blurb in the Dethklok Minute. But as nice as two friends hanging out was, it didn’t draw the same number of crowds as before, and after waiting and waiting, the focus on the two of them finally died.

Nobody cared that Toki hung out with Magnus, and were far more invested in Pickles’ massive pub crawl across Europe, the recent paternity trials of Skwisgaar, Nathan’s up-and-down relationship with Abigail, or Murderface’s failed MLM scheme.

And then–

“Welcome to the Dethklok minute! Uh-oh, Toki-oh! After a huge and successful performance in Japan, Toki Wartooth was seen inviting Magnus Hammersmith into the lobby of the famous Ningen Isu Hotel. But what’s this? Take a look at this! Though the picture is of poor quality, fans speculate the two are holding hands in the photo…”

A slip up. After months of touring, bad reception and shitty planning on his part, Toki called Magnus over, and in their haste to reunite, were caught in the act.

And then…

“Breaking news! You will not believe your eyes!”

The very thing Magnus feared happened. Toki expected a strong reaction from Magnus. He expected the walls to crumble and the world to feel like it was ending. However, he could not predict just how negative a response he'd receive from his billions of fans. Knees tucked into his chest, Toki sullenly scrolled through the thousands of tags with awful slurs and insulting remarks, now all aimed at him. Fans demanded to know if he hit his head, if he enjoyed giving head, if he was always playing for both sides, if he spit or swallowed, if he even liked girls, if he was drunk when it happened, if it was consensual, if Toki was sure he didn’t like breasts, if he was ok, or if there was something wrong with his eyes because he could do so much better than Magnus Hammersmith.

Nathan and the others warned him this would happen, but Toki never believed it. The fans loved him. He could do no wrong.

But, once it was out–

“While most remain torn, a growing number of fans have openly voiced their support of the two…”

Once it was out, it was Magnus who snatched the phone out from Toki’s hand, taking and stowing it in some drawer where it couldn’t bother them before doing the same with Toki, and carrying him off into the night in his arms and telling him it wasn’t worth their time.

“…Send your vote to this number to determine the name of this new, controversial celebrity couple!”

Much like those slow, intimate touches that kept Toki distracted long through the night, the horrible things fans said came to pass. Not much longer, Magnus showed Toki how those same fans that had attacked him, that posted videos and memes making fun of their friendship, that spread rumors and doubt, that tested their patience, were all now sending hearts and their best wishes. There were pictures, both hand drawn and professionally done, hashtags and gifs and essays filled with nothing but off-putting support. Toki found familiar faces and names, avatars and posts from those he remembered directing horrible things his way, and now they were acting as though they never stopped believing in the two.

Toki logged off and debated taking a break from social media.

Magnus beckoned him back to comforting sheets.

The initial shock came and went, and before long, all that was left was empty support and praise. Wholesome quotes and pretty rainbow flags that meant nothing to Toki, even less to Magnus, and fan songs and imagery that Toki blocked, only to later openly mocked with the only man who understood better than anyone else how pathetic and empty-brained most people were, and how quickly everyone forgets.

The band had little to say, but offered their indirect support by reminding Toki the jack-offs were more than likely jealous. Toki had everything in the world, Nathan later said. It didn’t matter that he left it at that, abruptly ending the conversation before Toki had a chance to really take it in and appreciate the shreds of a hidden apology underneath it all. Everything in the world. To think it included Magnus made the half-assed apology more heartfelt, and Toki had to stop himself from getting too close to Nathan and thanking him for taking his side, for being there, for listening, caring in his own way.

And, finally…

“… and in other news, the world’s favorite musical couple celebrated Toki Wartooth’s birthday in upstate New York. After celebrating at Mordhaus, Magnus and Toki decided to take advantage of the band’s extended work sabbatical, and take a vacation together… Next week, I give you a very special Dethklok exclusive, starring none other than the famous couple themselves!”

With an outstretched hand, Magnus reached for the remote, turning off the television with a short, but aggressive jab on the power button before snatching his keys and turning to Toki, who remained peacefully reclined on top of the hotel bed.

“Ready?” Magnus asked, fixing one of many heavy rings he had on his person as Toki slipped off the bed, hastily running past him to locate his socks and boots for the long day ahead. Magnus fingered a rather hefty skull ring adorned with gaudy, but bright and pointed gemstones. “So, who’s doing what again?”

“I holds him down,” Toki replied as he worked the laces on his boots. “When I gives the words, I jumps across and holds him down.”

Magnus picked up his sunglasses, donning his disguise before casually making his way out of the bedroom. “Uh-huh. And what’s the word?”

“Hmmm.” Toki chewed his inner lip as he searched for a random enough word. “Cinnamon?”

“Cinnamon?”

“Yeps,” Toki replied, standing up and following Magnus. He grabbed a small box of medical bandages and gauze, still in a plastic bag that rested on top of a recently cracked crystal table, and shoved both into his already cluttered fanny pack.

Magnus reached in, snatching the gauze and stowing it into one of his pockets, leaving more room for Toki to rearrange his things. “And you’re totally fine with me beating the ever-lasting shit out of him?” he asked, earning a mischievous little glance from the younger man. “All by myself?”

“Wells, I’ms gonna to gets him first,” Toki contentedly pointed out, and earned a snicker from Magnus when he dared to smile at the thought. “Ams doing half the works. Also, lets me wear some of the rings.”

“Fine, fine.” Magnus offered his fingers up to Toki, amused when the young man stopped and hovered and admired the large, heavy steel rings bought for the sole purpose of rearranging another man’s face. He raised a brown when he saw Toki reach for a devilish ring adorned with curled horns. “Not that one, I like that one.”

“Evens better.” Toki pulled the ring from Magnus’ middle, sticking out his tongue as he tried it on, along with a few others, before earning a slightly sarcastic look of approval from Magnus.

“Ready?” Magnus asked again, admittedly smitten by how well the ring suited Toki.

“Waits, I forgots my hat.”

Magnus headed to the door, taking his time, stopping briefly to admire the view from the window and take in the magnificent view, while also picking up on rushed footsteps hitting the floor, Toki nearly tripping over himself and putting on the last bit of his outfit, then claiming Magnus’ free hand as his, and yanking him close into a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Let’s go,” he said after slowly pulling away, eyes locked on Magnus as he opened the door, ready to be led into the light.

#fanfic #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #metalocalypse #fanfiction #unbeta'd

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hi-epervier · 4 years

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@slenderiscoming some Naruto & Fugaku hijinks since you expressed interest in that.

Pre-sasunaru, Fugaku bullies his way into adopting people, Naruto is Naruto. Here's what I have so far, Hope you enjoy <3

Modern AU where down-on-his-luck, ex-homeless kid Naruto, age 20, saves Fugaku’s life while Fugaku’s stranded in the States, with his family back in Japan, and no one else can/is willing to help. He also visits Fugaku at the hospital, and when they clear Fugaku for discharge, brings the old bastard home to his tiny firetrap apartment, with its mess and his possibly-drug-dealers roommates, because Naruto can't not help complete strangers and the staff said they needed someone to keep an eye on the old bastard in case of medical complications.

And. Fugaku is 1000% appalled at everything, and complains, a lot, and demands they put an end to this farce, and generally makes a nuisance of himself, until Naruto tells him to shut his trap. Which works for exactly twenty seconds and just because it caught him off-guard. Then Fugaku resumes complaining, only a little less fervently.

And. Naruto’s everything Fugaku despises, but he’s also the only one who helped, and Fugaku can respect that. That’s a good kid. A good, extremely rude, potty-mouthed, sloppy, gay kid, but, a good kid. And in Uchiha Fugaku’s books, that counts more.

And. Fugaku’s got a stick up his ass. Anybody who knows him can tell you that. So this kid, with his brashness, and his loud mouth and everything, is confusing. Completely baffles him, and he’s not a man who likes feeling baffled. Fugaku wants everything to make sense and be efficient, and cause as little trouble as possible, and things do! Because he’s not the kind of man you mess with. He’s intimidating as fuck, and a hardass. He gets his way.

Naruto doesn’t give a shit. That’s the first thing he learns about the kid: Naruto doesn’t give a shit. He talks back, he speaks his mind, and gives as good as he gets. Naruto doesn’t put up with his ‘respect your elders’ crap. They butt heads. But Naruto is kind. After the initial clusterfuck, it’s actually pretty easy to talk to this kid because Naruto talks back immediately when he’s not okay with something!!! And he doesn’t hold grudges. Fugaku’s own sons aren’t like that. They’ve inherited his stupid pride gene. And his way with words. Naruto’s way to deal with conflicts actually resolves them. Fugaku may have to admit it’s more efficient than his own method. Who would have thought?

It’s evident that Naruto is a complete disaster. His lifestyle- bad. Very bad, no good, nuh uh. Fugaku disapproves, vocally so. He tries giving orders advice. Doesn’t work. Naruto doesn’t give a shit. He tries shoving money at the ungrateful brat who doesn’t see common sense when it’s trying to beat him on the head. Naruto gets royally offended. Turns out they’re both stubborn assholes. Still doesn’t work, and Fugaku is hell-bent on helping out this kid who does not wants his help.

So, Fugaku has a (brilliant, if he says so himself) idea. Fugaku has a son around Naruto’s age. Sasuke’s gay. Naruto’s gay (bisexual, or whatever. Fugaku’s not paying attention to what the fuck ‘labels’ are. Whatever. Naruto likes men. Fugaku asks, just to make sure. Repeatedly. they have a shouting match- whatever). They’re both good kids. They could learn a thing or two from each other. Naruto should feel honored, Fugaku’s son is such a catch.

Two birds, one stone. Fugaku helps out this bratty good kid he’s getting way too attached to (fathers-in-law get to shove money at their sons-in-law when they feel like it and nobody can stop them, right?), and Sasuke gets a boyfriend who’s not one of these good-for-nothing twinks he’s been hanging around. Everything is good. People should give Fugaku a medal for his exceptional ideas. No wonder his eldest is a genius.

Naruto is not on board with the idea. He’s so not on board with the idea that he thinks it’s a joke and gets a good laugh out of it. Past the first five minutes it start looking like he’s dying.

How fucking dare he, and why the fuck not? Fugaku’s son is a catch. Naruto should be fucking grateful. Not just anyone gets deemed worthy of joining the Uchiha clan, and Fugaku’s son in particular is a catch. Naruto is an idiot. Fugaku is offended on his son’s behalf. And what’s wrong with arranged marriages? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with them. They’re efficient and Fugaku knows what’s best. Naruto is an idiot.

Naruto starts calling him a Pimp. Fugaku’s brilliant idea is backfiring and Fugaku’s feathers are ruffled. But he’s nothing if not stubborn (he’s right, dammit).

Is it because Naruto wants children? Fugaku assures him that there are options for 'his kind' if he wants to reproduce, and says some really offensive shit while he's at it, and Naruto jibes back that he's being a real asshole right now. Fugaku tries to correct course by informing him that Mikoto will not care about his proclivities as long as he and Sasuke give her grandchildren. Naruto goes 'wow, you're a real piece of work'. And then decides to fuck with Fugaku's head by saying 'maybe I don't like kids'. And Fugaku hadn't even considered that and looks like he swallowed a lemon when presented with the possibility. He asks 'don't you?' and Naruto almost pisses himself laughing with how much just asking that is putting a strain on this old bastard, but he keeps a straight face. Fugaku doesn't receives an answer, so he goes 'well, but, an heir...' but concedes that it might suffice if his eldest conceives instead, and he supposes they'd still give Naruto and Sasuke their blessing despite this obviously huge let down, and Naruto must realize how generous he's being there, obviously, and and... somewhere around that part Naruto takes pity on him and goes 'nah, kids are cool, I was pulling your leg. Still don't want you to pimp me out tho', and Fugaku is both like 'oh thank fuck' and 'why'.

If it's not the kids, it must be something else. Is it because of the costs of moving to Japan? Fugaku would take care of that, obviously, as head of family. The logistics? Consider it done. Are Naruto's shitty jobs the problem? Just get rid of those, and Fugaku will find him a better one in Japan, more worthy of his future station, or Naruto can go to school there, get a diploma, it's not a problem that Naruto is mentally challenged, Fugaku has connections. Does Fugaku need to go yell at Naruto's shitty boss? Landlord? Mean aunt? No really, does Naruto need him to yell at anyone? (Fugaku likes yelling at people. Very cathartic). Is it Japan? Does he not like Japan? Well, the whole family could uproot itself to the States, at least at first, like for a year or two, Japan is obviously superior and Naruto should see the errors of his ways. No? Then why? Is it Sasuke? Does Naruto think Fugaku's son is unworthy of him? Does he not like brunets? Does he fear Fugaku's son is not aesthetically pleasing? Fugaku falls over himself to reassure Naruto that his son is, quote-unquote, 'a stud'. Naruto goes 'oh my god you crazy old bastard, where did you learn that word and also what the fuck'. They keep bickering and eventually Naruto gets fed up and yells that you can't just dictate people's lives like that, and Fugaku, old fart from old money, genuinely confused, goes 'well, why not?' Naruto can't believe he's stuck with a matchmaking tyrant for the next few days.

Fugaku continues his campaign to convince Naruto that The Idea is good. Ramen. Ramen is a thing that Japan has. In fact, it has plenty of it. (It also has natto, and Fugaku very crankily informs Naruto that american breakfast standards are subpar. 'just eat your cereal,' Naruto sighs. Fugaku glowers at him around a mouthful of froot loops)

#naruto uzumaki #fugaku uchiha #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #dumbasses. dumbasses everywhere

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221castiel · 3 years

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Let it Snow - Chapter Six

Master Post // AO3

December 11th 15 Days until Christmas

She’s pretty, hell she’s more than pretty, she’s hot, and smart, and funny, and fucking perfect, with her kind eyes and easy personality. Her black skin glowing under the bar's warm lighting as her hair fell to her shoulders in tight curls and lips were spread out in a smile. She was fucking perfect, Dean had never been more certain about anything. He should’ve been planning their next date there and then, as she talked about her job as a reporter. He should’ve been planning this wedding, their future together, the house they’d move into, the names of their kids -a boy and a girl obviously- whether they’d get a cat or a dog. Yet he couldn't bring himself to. Every time he even considered a second date his thoughts were brought to someone else.

He already had all that, even if the cat was a little bitch. He didn’t need someone new, he needed Cas.

“What about yourself,” Cassie asked, taking a sip from her cider, “you’re a highschool teacher right?”

Dean nodded, looking back down to his own glass of water, the ice cubes that had filled now melted. “Unfortunately,” he joked.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Yah, It’s actually pretty awesome. The kids are great, most of the other teachers are great,” Dean added. “The pays shit, but I pick up some hours at an auto shop to make up for it,” Cassie nodded along though didn’t reply, probably waiting for Dean to continue, to keep the conversation going the way she had when talking about her job.

He probably should say something else, though instead he picked up the last fry on his plate and shoved it into his mouth.

The whole date had been a mistake. One big fucking mistake filled with weak attempts at conversation and fake interest in what ever Cassie had to say as if Dean didn’t have a hundred more important things to think about.

Cassie tapped her nails against their table. “How’s Jack?” She finally asked.

“Kids good,” Dean replied, “he’s excited for Christmas.”

“That’s good.”

Dean nodded, pressing his lips together as he glanced across the bar they were sat in. It wasn’t too busy, with music playing above and the low chatter of people echoing against the wall, despite that things couldn’t have been quieter, the awkward silence between them thick.

He should say something. Anything. A compliment, an apology, a joke about the shitty music that played, cause it was shitty, really shitty. Yet nothing came, Dean’s mouth suddenly dry as he glanced to the table next to their own, where a couple was having a much better date than theirs.

Fuck emotionally healthy people that could handle relationships.

“Wanna get out of here?” Dean finally asked, looking back to Cassie, who somehow still had a smile across her face, as if Dean hadn’t spent their whole date being a douchebag.

She brought her glass back to her lips, swallowing whatever was left of the cider before nodding towards the exit. “Lead the way.”

After calling over the waitress over and paying for their food -fifty fucking dollars, how the hell was their food fifty fucking dollars?- they stepped back into the streets, the cold air biting at Dean’s face. Cassie offered a small smile as they began walking in the direction of the impala, something Dean didn’t return. How could he when they were walking so close, their shoulders almost brushing, fingers only inches away; it would take seconds for Dean to lace their hands together.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked down, watching the thin layer of snow crunch under his boots. It was easier than looking at Cassie.

“Hey, “ Cassie began, causing Dean to glance up, meeting Cassie’s gaze for barely a second before he looked ahead. “Is everything alright?”

“Yah,” Dean replied, forcing an easy smile across his face, or at least what he hoped was an easy smile, though Cassie didn’t look convinced, “why wouldn’t I be, life’s awesome.”

She pressed her lips together and shrugged, “you just seem off.”

“Ya well, “ Dean kicked his foot at the snow, sending the small flakes flying forward. “Just stressed about work and shit, money's tight with the holidays.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, money was tight now without Cas there to help, especially with Christmas coming up, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

He couldn’t tell Cassie the full truth. That through the whole date he'd been thinking about his ex. About Cas’s smile, his eyes, the breathless noises he’d make when Dean kissed along his jaw. The way he tilted his head often in confusion, but occasionally when Jack did something cute or Dean made an especially bad joke in fondness. A small smile would spread across his face and his eyes would lighten up, his whole expression just warm. Or how tomorrow Cas would be on a probably much more successful date with the puppy killer Mike whatever the douchebag's last name was.

He couldn’t say any of that, it wasn’t fair to Cassie, and so, money.

Nobody wanted to talk about money issues.

Money would end the conversation and Dean could move on to something else, compliment the dress Cassie wore, ask her about her plans for the holidays, anything else.

Just change the conversation.

Change the conversation.

“And I think I’m in love with my ex,” Dean said before his mouth snapped shut and he stopped in place. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. So much for changing the conversation.

Cassie stared back, lips parted and eyes wide, as Dean swallowed, trying to breath through the ball forming in his throat. “Shit Cassie,” Dean finally choked out, “I didn't mean-“

“Oh,” She whispered.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean continued, “I’m sorry.”

“No- don’t, I should’ve seen it coming.” Cassie pressed her lips together as she ran a hand down her face, “no guy is that perfect. So what? I was some final attempt to move on?”

“Worse,” Dean mumbled.

Son of a bitch, he wanted to kill himself; step onto the street and let a car hit him, bleed out in a slow painful death like he deserved.

Cassie crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow “Worse? Like how worse.”

“Like he had a date, and I didn’t want to look like the loser who hadn’t moved on worse.”

“But you are the loser who hasn't moved on.”

“I think douchebags more suiting.” Dean replied, causing a smile to tug across Cassie’s lips.

He pressed his lips together, glancing down to his boots then back up. The streets were quiet, lit only by the few stores that were still open and the Christmas lights that had been hung by the city. Thankfully they themselves and a very confused looking old lady down the street -maybe Dean should go help her?- were the only ones in sight, letting their awful date be private.

Thank fucking hell.

“You’re talking about Jack’s other dad?” Cassie asked, and Dean looked back, holding her gaze before he gave a small nod. “I’m sorry.”

“I think that’s my line.”

Cassie tilted her head, the look in her eyes tugging at Dean’s heart. He hated that pitied look from other people, gentle and filled with concern, wanting to help, even they couldn’t. Dean had caused his problems, every single fucking problem he had was his own fault, he didn’t deserve the help, he didn’t deserve pity and like hell he deserved Cas.

If only he could keep his mouth shut for five fuckin’ minutes

“You can apologize later,” Cassie said. She took a step closer and Dean clenched his jaw, “how about we go back to mine for now?”

“Can I get you a beer?” Cassie offered as they stepped into her apartment. It was the first thing either of them had said since they’d gotten into the impala, the car ride filled with a mix of Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, not that Dean was complaining. He shook his head, and after Cassie offered a variety of other drinks that he'd politely declined, she left to get herself a beer, leaving Dean to take a seat on her couch.

The layout was the same as his own apartment, though Cassie’s was much warmer, covered in pictures and other decorations. Things that even after a year of living in his Dean hadn’t set up. He’d always blamed it on lack of time, weekdays were spent working and weekends were spent with Jack, but even when he did have the time, he could never bring himself to.

“How long were you two together?” Cassie asked as she walked back into the living and took a seat in the arm chair across from the couch.

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

“”No, I want to hear about the guy you were willing to use me for,” Dean cringed, despite Cassie's tone being more teasing than hurt. “I think I deserve that much.”

Dean sighed, “I don’t know how long we were together- a long ass time.”

“You don’t know how long?” Cassie said, “I think I know why he’s your ex.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair as if that would do anything to calm the sudden unease in his chest, an unease that always came when Cas was mentioned. “Tomorrow would’ve been eleven years and nine months,” Dean replied, mouth dry and hands clammy, even when he ran them along his jeans. “But it’s almost been a year since we split up.”

“It hurts- the first year, but it gets better.” Cassie looked down to her bottle, “I’d been dating this guy for six years, and I thought he was going to propose, but-“ Cassie inhaled and gave a small shrug, “instead he was cheating, it took months to get over him.”

‘That’s different’, Dean wanted to say, you didn’t hurt anyone, you didn’t cause the pain. You weren’t the problem.

“How’d you do it?” Dean asked instead.

“Ice cream, crying, more ice cream,” a smile tugged at Cassie’s lips. “I moved. I’d lived in the same town my whole life and I just needed something new.”

“Can’t exactly do that without leaving Jack behind.”

“Ice cream and crying it is.”

Dean smiled, “I think I’m goin’ to need a lot of ice cream.”

“He must’ve been some guy.”

“He is,” Dean replied, looking down to his lap. “He teaches English at the same high school as me, and fuck he’s smart, he could’ve been some university professor if he’d wanted.” Dean said. “but he liked us at the same school and he liked the students.”

He inhaled slowly and Cassie brought the bottle to her lips, taking a small sip. “He’s too nice for his own good, and cares about everything so fucking much, and he’s just-“ Dean hesitated, “he’s just good.”

A small smile tugged at Cassie’s lips, that sad expression once again resting across her face that had Dean looking away and instead to the Christmas decorations that filled her living room. A reindeer in the centre of the coffee table, a couple snowmen across the bookshelf, Christmas lights hanging from her windows,

“I’m worried about him,” Dean finally continued, staring at the small Christmas tree on the top of her bookshelf. It was barely a foot tall, with plastic pine needles that were a soft pink colour and a few silver balls hanging from it. “I know somethin’s wrong but I don't know how to ask, or if I’m even allowed to, you know?”

Or if Dean wanted to know, he had his guesses and fuck he hoped they were wrong.

“There’s no harm in asking,” Cassie offered, though Dean could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“We’ve only just started talking again,” Dean replied. The chance of ruining things was too high, which was selfish of Dean, wanting to hold onto whatever relationship they may have rather than make sure Cas was okay. But he’d always been the selfish one in their relationship. “I don’t want to lose him again.”

Cassie pressed her lips together. “you really love him,” she said and Dean could only nod. ‘Cause he wasn’t good with words, he could barely describe his feelings to himself, never mind someone else. All he knew was he loved Cas with every beat of his heart, with every breath he took, with everything he could offer and couldn’t.

He loved Cas the same way the earth orbited the sun, without question.

#let it snow #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #My writing

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smileyoongle · 5 years

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Yours Insanely (Yandere! Jungkook)

Summary: Lovers can be the most dangerous people. You learned that a little too late.

Pairing: Yandere Killer! Jungkook×Reader

Mahogany. Smoke. Leather.

That's exactly how the air smelled, even though it was suppressed by the stench of blood. You gazed at the scene before you with empty and defeated eyes, the lights from the siren illuminating your face in the dark forest. A yellow tape was secured around the crime scene, locking you within the perimeter, just metres away from the dead body.

It was a woman around your age, her mouth wide open and eyes staring at the night sky. Her pale skin shone in the moonlight, her hands splayed out on either side of her cold body. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes moving down to her abdomen which wasn't quite...together. Her skin had been slashed open, her organs having been pulled out in heaps of bloody masses. Your stomach lurched, bile rising in your throat before you clamped your mouth shut and ran to the side, emptying the contents of your stomach beside a large tree that towered over you. You breathed heavily, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your brown overcoat that shielded you against the cold wind.

Four months and twenty three murders.

Twenty three murders and not one piece of evidence.

For someone who had been a detective for seven years, you were doing a very shitty job. Every time you thought you were close to catching the killer, you found yourself back at the beginning. It was as if things were going round in circles, and this time you had fucked up. You were focusing on the wrong person, which ended in another woman being murdered ruthlessly. If only you had paid attention to the details….

You closed your eyes, leaning against the bark of the tree and rubbing your forehead with your fingers. The sound of camera shutters fell deaf to your ears as you groaned in frustration.

All your fault.

"You okay?" You slowly looked up, Namjoon's concerned face being the sole focus of your vision. His eyes mirrored your emotions perfectly, the same amount of defeat and sorrow lacing his irises. For the first time in forever, you saw sympathy and softness in his eyes, all directed to you. You still remembered how Namjoon had stated his distaste when he had been paired with you for the case. Both of you were the best in whatever you did, that's why your seniors had decided that it would be best if you worked together. You didn't have any objections because the case seemed like that of a deranged killer, one whose psychological condition was beyond your understanding. Namjoon had a history of working as a forensic psychiatrist and that was definitely a good thing. Especially since you weren't in the right mind due to your breakup with Jungkook, your overbearing ex-lover.

"No. I'm- I'm not okay, Namjoon. If I had just listened to you, none of this would have happened." You tried to keep your voice steady but Namjoon could tell you were so close to breaking down. All hope had been lost, every all nighter that you pulled had been for nothing. No matter what anyone said, you were always gonna believe that it was your fault.

"Agent Kim, I'm telling you, that psycho's a florist or something. All we found is a bouquet of withered lilacs." You pushed yourself to stand beside Namjoon as your department's forensic scientist nudged the bouquet towards you both. You glared at the dead flowers, a small red card peeking out from between the petals. You knew what was written on it because it was the same sentence every single time.

'You can stop this.

-Yours Insanely,

You'll find out someday.'

According to your research, the killer was some guy who had been rejected by his love and was now taking it all out on every woman he saw. The dead lilacs signified dead love and that was the only thing you and Namjoon knew confidently. Everything else was a mess, seeing as the killer had you running around in circles. You had truly given up, the lack of sleep finally catching up to you.

"I'm gonna head back to the office. Detective Choi probably has a suspension order ready for me." You announced, rushing towards your car while Namjoon called after you. You didn't turn. You couldn't. His face was just gonna make you feel more guilty. He was right since the beginning. You weren't a good enough partner. The least you could do for him was convince Mr Choi that Namjoon didn't know anything about your theories. The leaves crunched under your feet as you unlocked your car. You could hear the faint noises of people from the crime scene, biting your lip harshly to hold yourself together. You entered your car and sat in silence, your head resting on the steering wheel as you stared at your lap in the darkness.

There was a sudden ding from your phone, your hand already fishing for it in the pocket of your coat. Your face lit up as you saw Jungkook's name on the screen.

Jungkook: Heard about what happened. Are you okay?

This was a routine by now. You knew Jungkook was just looking for opportunities to text you since you told him off for begging you to come back. But you couldn't blame him. A relationship of three years would certainly take time to get over. You still thought of him everyday and you swore you'd probably be running back to him if it weren't for this case. Nobody had loved you like Jungkook. His love was consuming to the point of suffocation. Suffocation that felt sweet and desirable, until you figured out that he was becoming a little too possessive. Even though your relationship was over, you were still bind in his clutches. Because Jeon Jungkook knew you like the back of his hand. He understood.

He always understood.

____________________________________________

"You look like her."

He stated, dragging the edge of the axe across her arms, grinning in satisfaction upon seeing the scared look in her eyes. He didn't know who she was but all he knew was that this woman wanted him. The seductive smile on her red lips had told him that the second he had stepped into the club.

Unfortunately for her, it made him angry. It made him angry that all the women he didn't care about, wanted him but the one he cared about, didn't even look at him.

She left him...like he meant nothing.

Jungkook yanked the woman's head up by pulling at her hair, the dirty rag around her mouth preventing her from screaming. For a second, Jungkook saw her face morphing into that of yours. But it was gone just as it came.

"But you're not her." He seethed, gritting his teeth and pushing her back to the ground. Sure, this woman was dying before Jungkook's five day count but he was overwhelmed. He was growing restless with each passing day.

Why weren't you coming back to him?

It was risky to put his name out there but he thought you'd understand. Did you forget about him already? No. That couldn't be. Not when Jungkook texted you almost everyday. Then why?

Kim Namjoon….

Was that man holding you back?

Jungkook yelled in frustration, lifting the axe above his head and bringing it down. He watched the blade slash through the skin of her face, disfiguring it completely. His chest heaved as blood splattered onto his skin, his eyes wide and crazed. Jungkook's fingers loosened across the handle, his head tipping back to the ceiling as he closed his eyes.

___________________________________________

"Y/N, I think you need a break." You didn't react, your eyes fixed on the dark wooden table which stood inches away from you. It was late at night, the new addition to the victims list having taken away everyone's peace and calm. Not that there was any, considering the fact that there was a killer on the loose.

"I hope you know Namjoon had no idea what I was doing." You mumbled monotonously, receiving a sigh from Mr Choi. He lost count of how many times you had said that, but he couldn't bring himself to say much. His best officer had been destroyed completely. He never thought he'd see this day but maybe it was a sign of the times. You needed to be put off from this case.

"Yes, I do, Y/N. Another team of officers are on their way here. They have been appointed by the state and Namjoon will be working with them. You take good care of yourself." He replied, pushing the white envelope towards you. You didn't even have to open it to know that it was your suspension letter. All you wanted to do was go home and forget about this. Even though it wasn't possible. You pursed your lips and took the envelope in your hand, nodding at Mr Choi who was looking at you with sympathetic eyes. You mustered up a small smile, trying your best to show him that you were still strong. But who were you trying to fool? The man who pushed you up on your feet and stood by you during your struggles to become a detective?

"I'll do that." You said, turning around and leaving his cabin, your eyes burning with the onslaught of tears. Your shoes clicked against the stairs as you stepped out of the building, the cold air fanning your face. The parking lot was empty but there were plenty of people running here and there. For once, you weren't involved in it. You didn't have to worry about it but your mind refused to relax. You were gonna spend sleepless nights even if you weren't working on the case anymore.

You heard the crunching of gravel as a car pulled up in front of you, Namjoon's panicked face coming into your line of sight. His eyes frantically darted around the yard until they landed on you, a relieved expression settling down on his features. He slammed the car door shut, approaching you in a hurry.

"Y/N, what did you do?" He snapped, walking towards you with anger in his eyes. Your confusion grew deeper, your lips parting in question. Namjoon exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he clenched his jaw.

"You lied to him. This isn't how a partnership works. I am supposed to get that suspension with you!" He argued, your brows relaxing in understanding. Namjoon glanced at the building behind you, his hands resting on his hips as he looked back at you.

"You don't deserve this, Namjoon. You were against it and it was my idea to go ahead with the plan." You explained, glancing at your shoes. Namjoon was just being righteous, you thought. But it wasn't that. Namjoon's words had a deeper meaning to them.

He was mad at you for doing this, of course. But he was even more mad at you for being so ...good. He didn't see this coming but you now held a soft spot in his heart. And once in a while, Namjoon found himself thinking, what it would be like if he wasn't just your colleague. Maybe if he hadn't been so harsh towards you since the start, he would have stood a chance. Especially since you didn't have an annoying boyfriend anymore.

"This..- I'm gonna talk to him about this." You immediately held his arm, Namjoon's heart rocketing to the sky upon feeling your warmth. He pursed his lips, looking into your eyes and seeing the pain. He wanted to hold you and tell you that you were gonna be okay but he couldn't. Too soon.

"Namjoon, please. Let me feel like I did something right in this entire ordeal." Your voice cracked, your fingers tightening their grasp on his arm. The night air was crisp, the smell of dead lilacs still alive in your senses. You swore it would be with you for the rest of your life. Or at least until this was over.

Namjoon nodded, his lips pressed against one another as he willed himself to look at you without having his eyes waver.

"I'll do everything I can to find him. For you."

You saw it. You saw the flash of affection in Namjoon's eyes before he buried it deep inside. Your heart plummeted as you shamefully looked at the gravel, knowing that you would never be able to reciprocate what Namjoon felt. Because you were still in love. With a man you shouldn't even think of anymore.

You cleared your throat, covering up your saddened state with an encouraging smile. You pulled your hand away from Namjoon, taking a step towards your car and looking at him over your shoulder.

"I'll wait for that day."

___________________________________________

Jungkook had just put on his sweatpants when the bell rang, his eyes immediately falling on the wall clock. 1:50 AM. He frowned, tossing the towel on the bed before making his way towards the door. The cool air hit his bare chest, his damp hair falling over his forehead in soft curls.

The day had been eventful. This was the first time he had committed two murders in a single day. The body of the second woman was still in his basement but he wanted to catch people off guard. He wanted to tell the world that he was getting angry and impatient. His insanity was reaching its peak and he needed you to break.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, pulling the door open, only to have his breath taken away. There you stood before him, eyes heavy and hands tucked into the pocket of your coat. Your lips were chapped as you licked them, glancing around nervously with red rimmed eyes. Jungkook could tell you had been crying, his heart aching on seeing what he had done to you. But you deserved it.

You deserved it for breaking his heart.

"Y/N…" he whispered, his lips begging to display the happiness that was coursing through him. You bit your lip, eyes glued to Jungkook who stood fresh out of the shower in front of you. You inhaled deeply, summoning back your confidence because this was Jungkook. You didn't have to worry about being a wreck before him. Without a word, you pushed your way inside his home, your shoulder brushing against his as the warmth of his house engulfed you. Jungkook stared at you in awe, praying for things to be okay again. Maybe you did break? Maybe you were back for him?

He pulled himself out of his head and shut the door, watching you with his doe eyes as you hung your coat on the rack and rushed inside. He was quick to follow you into the living room, his gaze dancing around to look for anything he had left out.

No. It's all in the basement.

With a nervous feeling in his chest, Jungkook leaned on a wall, his fingers fiddling with each other as you stood with your back facing him. Your hands rested on top of his mini bar counter, a heavy silence looming over you both. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something but he couldn't think of anything. Not unless you told him why you were there.

But you couldn't answer that question yourself. Not when you were wondering why you were there. His house was not even on the way to your house, so why were you there? Was it because your head was too free and now you wanted to see if Jungkook had changed? Was it because you wanted him to make you feel like you're worth all the trouble in the world? Hell, that was probably it. You felt so useless that there was nothing anyone could say to make you feel better.

"I got suspended." You blurted out, your voice piercing through the atmosphere. Jungkook's breath hitched, a little too loud for his liking. All this time, he had been thinking he was the puppeteer of this game. But he didn't see this coming. How could someone suspend you? Your voice had despair lacing it, Jungkook feeling guiltier with every passing second. He knew how important your job was to you.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you...okay?" He asked cautiously, scared that he'd break you. He still didn't know why you were at his place in the middle of the night but it brought him a sense of relief that he was the one you confided in. You suddenly turned around, a tear falling down your cheek as you threw your hands up.

"No. No, I'm not okay. In fact, I don't even know why I'm here. All I know is that I- I- fuck! I should go." You stammered, walking past him to leave. This was probably the most embarrassing thing that had happened between you and Jungkook. You were simply making a fool out of yourself. It was wrong to be wanting him when you were the one who left. But Jungkook, clearly didn't think that.

His hand shot out to hold your wrist, pulling you back towards him. Your hands rested on his chest as he cupped your cheek with one hand, holding your waist firmly with the other. Your heart was racing, your skin burning under his touch and you realized just how much you had missed him. It wasn't just about how he made you feel. It was also about the way your body ached for him to make you feel right. Jungkook's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his eyes flickering between your lips and your widened orbs.

"Don't walk out on me again. Not when we both still want each other." Jungkook begged, caressing your skin as he leaned down. Your nose brushed against his, lips only an inch away. No matter how much you wanted to pull away, you couldn't. It was a risk you were taking. You knew that Jungkook wouldn't change. He'd still come to pick you up from work. He'd still ask you to take days off again and again. He'd still ask you a million questions if you hid something from him. But you loved him. Underneath all of that, was the Jungkook you had first met and fallen for.

You broke the ice by standing on your toes and pressing your lips firmly against Jungkook's. His reaction was immediate, hands tangling in your hair and pulling your body flush against him. His tongue glided across your lips, slipping in your mouth when you parted them. The muffled moan escaping your mouth was inevitable, especially with Jungkook's fingers coming up to wrap around your neck. He made you feel so... delicate at times. He made the world better, instilling the thought of needing to be protected in your mind. Your suspension may have something to do with your stupid decisions but you were simply acting upon your feelings. Those that you had suppressed for months.

You gasped when Jungkook pushed you onto the couch, positioning himself between your thighs as he propped himself up on his hands. You were a sight for sore eyes, lips swollen and hair a mess. Chest heaving and eyes clouded with lust. There was nothing else Jungkook could ever ask for. His fingers grazed the skin of your thighs, your skirt riding up on its own. It felt so right, yet so wrong. Your body was on fire, aching for Jungkook to just have his way with you.

"Jungkook, please. I want you…"

Your voice was needy and desperate, boosting Jungkook's pride. You did love him, then. You still loved him. He caught your lips with his own, rolling his hips against yours to let you feel what you were doing to him. You closed your eyes and arched your back, trying to create more friction before Jungkook harshly pushed your hips back on the couch. He nipped at your neck, enjoying the way you were squirming and whining beneath him. But you weren't gonna get it so easily, were you? Not after what you did to his poor heart.

"Oh, I know, baby. And I will fuck you hard. All night…" he trailed off, getting off of you and standing inches away from your laid out body. The sight of his body made your mouth water, your mind recalling all the times Jungkook and you spent in the bedroom. His hair was longer than you last saw and you were smitten with how he looked. You clenched your thighs shut, his eyes raking over your entire body.

"..but only when you tell me you won't leave me again."

You stared at him with surprise written all over your face. It was a statement. A demand. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Jungkook was cruel for doing this. He was using your sexual needs to get you back in his arms, permanently. But there was also a chance of you regretting this night. That is if something ever did happen.

You didn't want that. You didn't want to wake up in the morning and hate yourself for this.

Liar. This is the only thing you'd never regret.

At your lack of response, Jungkook leaned down to your eye level, his hand brushing your hair away from your face. "What's it gonna be, baby?" He purred, kissing your jaw. If you weren't so drenched in arousal, you would have pushed him away but for now, the smallest of touch was doing things to you. Jungkook's lips continued to pepper kisses on your skin, your neck craning to give him more access. Jungkook knew what he was doing, his smirk would have told you that if you had seen it.

"I'll never leave you." You breathed out, and for a second, it seemed as if you caught a whiff of that scent. The one from the forest. The one that had been holding you captive all these months.

Dead lilacs.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Jungkook threw you over his shoulder, your heart pounding in excitement for what's to come. He took you up the stairs, the same old cherry wood greeting you until you were in his bedroom. You were laid on the bed gently, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as Jungkook's mouth latched onto your shoulder, his hands busy with taking off your shirt. "I'll remind you how big of a mistake it was to leave me. I own all of you, baby. You'll always come back to me. Always."

You whimpered when he softly dug his teeth in your skin, sucking and leaving marks that you won't be able to cover up.

___________________________________________

You were awake. Call it the unsettling feeling in your gut that was continuously nagging you, but you were awake. There was a sliver of light on the horizon, telling you that soon it was gonna be bright and early. You fingers played with Jungkook's hand that was on your stomach, his rhythmic breathing sounding like some sort of calm music. Unfortunately, you couldn't go back to sleep. Your thoughts were haunting you. You wanted to ask Namjoon if there were any new developments but you stopped yourself. You really should try and utilize your days of suspension productively. You sighed softly, lifting Jungkook's hand and placing it away from you. You glanced at his face as you stood up, noticing the way there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Because of you.

That made your heart flutter, your own lips stretching slightly as you picked up his t-shirt that lay on the chair in the corner of the room. You put it over your undergarments, walking out of the room and down into the living room. You needed updates, really. You took your phone that you had left on the counter a few hours ago, unlocking it to see a message from Namjoon.

Namjoon: Hey, Y/N? Uh...I just wanted to let you know that we're keeping the new discovery away from the people. They are scared and we don't want them to think that we're doing nothing. So, I hope you didn't tell anyone. Cause no one knows about it. Feel free to call me anytime and...take care:-)

You cracked a smile at the addition of the little smiley at the end, shaking your head at how traditional Namjoon was. However, your smile didn't last long.

Jungkook….

Realization dawned on you like a ton of bricks before a beeping sound echoed through the house. You clutched your phone tightly, your head jerking towards the source of the sound that seemed to be coming from the basement. You narrowed your eyes, your feet taking you forward towards the door to the basement which was slightly open. There seemed to be no other noise from any other corner of the house, indicating that Jungkook hadn't heard this soft pitched beeping at all. You inhaled deeply, pulling open the door and slowly descending down into the darkness, your hand searching the wall for the light switch. Once you were sure that the steps had ended, you felt the switch on the wall, flicking it on to illuminate the room.

The way your heart plummeted wasn't pleasing at all, your eyes wide as you gazed at the patch of soily land on the harsh gray floor in the corner, lights falling upon blooming buds of the flowers you recognized very well.

Lilacs.

Your blood ran cold, a faint smell of blood hitting your senses. With clammy hands, you gasped and leaned against a wall nearby, eyes fixed at the horror Jungkook was brewing in his basement. You breathed heavily, sweat beading on your forehead as you went over the possible reasons your ex ...no, boyfriend was growing lilacs.

The beeping sound was still alive, your gaze moving to the small clock that sat near a computer at the other side of the room. You closed your eyes, willing the negative thoughts to go away. No. There has to be another reason for this. Maybe he just happened to like lilacs a lot, lately.

Then why the basement?

Because he must have been scared! With the murders going on, he must have thought that he'd be blamed for it. That's a good enough reason, right?

Right?

Your detective instincts were kicking in, your eyes opening as you managed to calm yourself down. You glanced at the door of the basement, hoping Jungkook wasn't up yet. Your feet shakily dragged you to the alarm, shutting it off as your eyes darted around the room for anything else. Anything that could make him look like a murderer. Even the thought was bitter. Your Jungkook? A murderer? Unfortunately, you couldn't bring yourself to say that it was a crazy accusation. You knew very well what Jungkook was capable of. Right then, you saw the big white freezer at the side, the little trail of blood at it's edge sending you into a spiral of shock. But you were too scared to just stand and cry about the decisions you made. For instance, getting back with Jungkook.

Now it all made sense.

'You can stop this.'

You somehow managed to open the door of the freezer, immediately regretting your choices upon seeing the bloody woman lying inside. Her face was absolutely unrecognisable, every inch of her skin covered in blood. The stench was stronger, your throat constricting with every breath you took. You inhaled sharply, your vision becoming blurry with the tears that found home in your eyes. You harshly wiped them away, narrowing your eyes to see the tally marks on the inside of the refrigerator door. Without a doubt, that was the number of women who had been found dead. You gritted your teeth, stumbling back and falling on the ground as you tried to stop your crying. You were sure you heard your heartbreak, a searing pain shooting through your head. Finally, you were facing the consequences of not getting enough sleep along with the new discoveries about your boyfriend.

Stupid Y/N.

"I knew I should have locked the door."

Your emotions were heightened on hearing his voice, bouts of anger and fear pouring over you. You turned around, still finding it hard to stand as Jungkook loomed over you with an unreadable expression. You sniffled, crawling backwards and away from him.

From the murderer who stood before you.

You saw the look of pain in his eyes but all your love for him had been pushed away by the sympathetic feelings for those who lost their lives to him. All you saw was a cold blooded killer. No more a lover.

"Don't come closer. You know I can take you down." You threatened, your voice shaky but stern. You were trying your best to hold yourself together. The only thing you had to do was get to Namjoon. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, his eyes moving over to the opened freezer door. He fixed a deadly glare on you and moved to close it with a bang, your body visibly flinching at his action.

"I know you can. But tell me, Y/N, do you think this is my fault?" You frowned at his words, the tears on your cheeks now drying in the thick air of the basement. He sighed in distress, crouching down before you as you shifted further away from him. Jungkook pursed his lips, holding your gaze for a minute before speaking up again. "Remember how I had told you that this breakup will have consequences. This was it, baby. This was my message for you to come back."

Your head was spinning at this point, goosebumps rising on your skin as your brain processed all the information. All these months, you had been looking at the wrong place. Your killer was right in front of you but you let him get away. Knowing that you could have stopped everything was a heart wrenching thought. A sob escaped your mouth, your head buried in your hands as you let your frustration out.

Jungkook didn't know how he felt, it was all a mess up there. He certainly wasn't enjoying the tears on your cheeks but he also loved seeing you so...ruined. Weirdly enough, it made him feel powerful. He cautiously reached out towards you, his fingers landing on your hair when you suddenly jolted away from him, a murderous look in your eyes.

"Don't touch me."

Jungkook felt like his heart had been torn into pieces, his brows furrowing as he clenched his jaw. You breathed heavily, holding back your tears and glaring at him with sheer intensity. Your eyes fell onto your phone that lay behind Jungkook on the floor. When you had dropped it, you didn't remember. You really had to contact someone to tell them you had found the lilac killer, only if Jungkook wasn't in front of you. But Jungkook's patience was wearing thin. He waited for so long and killed so many people. He even had you back in his arms, only for this to happen?

No. Not this time.

Jungkook lunged at you, pushing you back on the floor and straddling you while pinning your hands above your head. You screamed for help, eyes clenched shut as you tried to get Jungkook off of you.

"This is because of that detective, isn't it? You don't want me to touch you? But you let me do everything to you last night, baby. Don't fight me now." He growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he mocked you. His words only fuelled your anger, reminding you of last night and how you let him touch you. Every single thing about your life seemed to be a regret, at this moment. You really had to fix it. You took deep breaths before bringing your head up and hitting Jungkook in the nose. He let out a loud scream and clutched his nose, falling back on the floor as you scurried away from him. You caught a glimpse of blood on his face, a wave of satisfaction passing over you. With a hopeful exhale, you crawled towards the staircase, your knee scraping against the rocky floor. Just as you reached the last step, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, yanking you back as your chin slammed against the broken wood. Your teeth dug into your tongue, drawing blood as your jaw went slack and you cried out loud.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, pulling you back to him. There was nothing in this world that would convince him to let you go. You kept his sinister thoughts at bay. Or that's what he assumed. Jungkook grunted, your cries falling deaf to his ears as he dragged himself closer to your laid out form.

You gasped for air, your lungs burning until you kicked Jungkook in the stomach with all the strength you could muster. When you saw him doubling over in pain, you pushed yourself into your feet and took off. You grabbed your coat from the rack and unlocked the door, crying and running outside into the dawn. Your hands reached out to unlock your car but you realized you didn't have the keys at all. Your eyes widened and you turned back to face the house, Jungkook's figure approaching the door with a gun in his hand. He raised it at you, showing you his pissed off expression as he held out his other hand. Your car keys dangled from his fingers, a broken sob escaping your mouth.

Jungkook cocked his head back inside the house, clearly wanting you to come back. But you weren't gonna do that, were you?

"Come back, Y/N. Or I promise I'll shoot you." He threatened, earning a shake of your head in response. You clenched your fists by your sides, your lips quivering as you struggled to form your words. "You won't. My Jungkook wouldn't shoot me." You stated firmly, watching his expression soften.

Jungkook's heart fluttered, your words clearly having left an impact on him. He fingers struggled to hold the gun, letting it fall as he stared at you longingly. Jungkook didn't wanna let you down. If you believed that your Jungkook wouldn't do this, then he was gonna live up to your fantasy.

You were shocked when you saw him drop the gun to the floor, a hopeful feeling brewing in your heart. Maybe someday you'd get to see the Jungkook you always knew. But for now, you couldn't stay. You needed to tell someone. You needed to fix your lover.

Jungkook stood still, his eyes watering as he watched you turn on your feet and leave. He watched you run away onto the asphalt, your body turning to enter the forest. He knew where you were going. You were afraid of him. You believed that he'd come for you.

And you weren't wrong there.

So I'm actually alive. I was finally able to write something. Things haven't been great lately so be patient. I'm working on come back home, hopefully I'll update it tomorrow. Also, this is a Jungkook birthday special, if you can't tell already. Hope you liked it.

-XX

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jlf23tumble · 4 years

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My 1D-related fic faves of 2019

I've read a TON of great fic this year in all kinds of fandoms, Jeeeeeeeeeesus, there are so many talented writers out there, but I won't list it all here (or even list everything I bookmarked this year). Instead, I'm gonna stick with 1D-related works released in 2019 that pulled me in hard and made me stare at the wall and/or read again and/or scream about with other people, and I'll try to do it in cutesie number order because WHY NOT make it that extra level of arbitrary, lmao. I love fanfic because no matter what fandom I'm dipping in, something new is gonna jump up and kill me (this year in particular, I've subscribed to a lot of "new to me" writers that I LOVE, and I hope you know who you are [do you know who you are, etc.]). Thank you for the free gifts, for your time, for your blood, sweat, and tears! I owe you hugs, coffee, and my undying love, gratitude, and support! I'll put my list under the cut to avoid some v. v. real screen scroll rage--happy new year, y'all!

2 lactation kink fics

(aka the Jaerie category, nobody else is out there writing this even as Harry's tits get bigger and milkier and why am I the only one fully appreciating all of it?????)

I Think You're Already Home, by jaerie, Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. (a December gift to remember for all of us! a/b/o dynamics, famous Louis, omega Harry--which is practically canon at this point--crippling agoraphobia, lactation-related sexiness, I would read at least ten (10) more chapters of this)

freaks from the internet, by jaerie. Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex. (I legit can't believe this came out this year, I rec it all the time! it was anon for forever, and I was low-key obsessed because I just wanted mawrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr of it, and I got it, thank CHRIST)

3 fics for meeeeeeee

(These works were gifts to me, and I am so truly hashtag blessed to receive!!!)

I Just Wanna Taste It, by @homosociallyyours. In his mind it's watermelon and sticky strawberry sweet, and he craves the feeling of his own round, firm belly warm under his hands on a summer evening. (Megan loves to kill me with Harry mpreg imaginings, and this one feels like canon to me!)

Powerless (and I Don't Care It's Obvious), by objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet. (AND YET!!! I don't even know where to start with how much I love Phoenix, what a treasure her work is in ANY fandom, how shitty this particular fandom has been to her, how much I'm gonna miss harry/louis fic gifts from her in the future, how HOT this pee kink fic is in general, dot dot dot)

Tuxedo Classic Dance Party, by Blake/ @newleafover. Instead of flying out to meet his touring boyfriend in Madrid, Louis sticks around to be responsible and do things like dance at Lady Gaga night at the gay cowboy club in West Hollywood. (Blake has written at least five fics in various fandoms that I would say are my favorite fics of all time, but they really topped themselves with this one!)

4 fic series

(I feel like there are probably loads more that qualify, but these ones grabbed me in their own particular way)

Not That Gone, by abrighteryellow/ @a-brighter-yellow. Louis’s 20-year high school reunion takes a turn when a celebrity classmate – who also happens to be Louis’s long unrequited crush – unexpectedly shows up. (this was inspired by Chris Evans, and both parts stand on their own, tbh)

Maybe I Miss You, by 13ways. Louis is on his way back to London after the Hits Live Birmingham concert. Harry is flying to New York for the Met Gala. They connect. (from the very first story in this series, I was HOOKED, canon angst that builds up to something truly wonderful)

There's something I want to try..., by TheMagicWord. Harry wants to try something. Louis's not convinced. Until he is. (the installments are super short, super hot)

One More Time Again, by orphan_account. On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right. (I'm sad that this author orphaned, but I seem to recall her getting a TON of shit, which is unfortunate because this is a great read, and part two is an imagining where Louis goes back instead)

5 fics featuring holidays

(These ones are basically from Christmas and Halloween of this year, so quite recent!!)

once bitten and twice shy, by @pinkcords. In a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. (the notes on this one blew me away: first-time author, pinch-hitting for a fest, and damn, a knock out)

you've set my soul to dreaming, by we_are_the_same. Thirty-year-old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall. (I'm not always into this trope, but when it's done well? NICE, and this one did it well)

when half spent was the night, by @juliusschmidt. I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit. (girl direction advent fic with pregnant Louis that’s incredibly well done, especially given how short it is, I was so sad to see it end, but the author says something about act II coming??? YES!!!)

Fictober 2019 Collection, by flowercrownfemme/ @lesbianiconharrystyles. Features lots of monsters and creatures and Harry Styles being a general nightmare as well as a few Girl Direction drabbles and a timestamp for Fool For You and one for Treat Mothman With Kindness. (Chloe's Halloween drabbles, each of which could outrival other stories 4x the length...she's a GIFT)

Cat & Mouse, by jaerie. It's the one day out of the year that Harry doesn't have to hide and can be himself — at least he thought so. Louis is just a little more observant than he anticipated. (I'm not a big hybrid fic fan, BUT GOD THIS STORY IS SO GOOD, it's so short I wanna cry, but so good!!!)

6 a/b/o fics

(I can handle "traditional" a/b/o if it gives me my dose of omega Harry, but I absolutely adore "untraditional" a/b/o, you know, where it actually is NOT about straight dynamics being put on a m/m or f/f couple (excuse me, a/a or o/o)...these ones NAIL IT, as did the entire gaybo ficfest)

violence of my own touch, by 14hrflight/ @silverfoxlouis. Louis hasn’t said anything, but Harry knows something is wrong. Harry’s rut had ended a few days ago, and Louis had kept him under as best as he could. (whenever I read Chi's alpha/alpha fics, I find myself internally screaming "CHI!!!" god, do they Get It, and I really hope they continue this one!)

Amor Victorious, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. Louis finds himself following Harry on a journey through Italy, complete with long train rides, greasy food, naked Christs, and too many lingering touches. They're definitely not like other tourists and he definitely doesn't have a crush on his best friend who happens to be an alpha, too. (this one came out during Thanksgiving week, so I held it to savor, and BOY, DID I SAVOR, it's so incredible, the gorgeous writing, the visceral, indescribable feeling of reading it, sighhhhhhh)

do you know me by heart, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. Harry comes back wearing alphas' scents, a pleased smile and a lace dress. Somehow, Louis still ends up making him come until he cries. (for me personally, 2019 was the year of Nina: getting to know them, catching up on all their writing, falling in love with the way they can kill us all with beautiful angst and the hint and hope of redemption...here's a tissue, you'll need it!!)

the way that you're thrilling me, by @hereforlou. Alphas were smelly and cocky and mostly arseholes, in Harry’s experience. Or at least they were at school. He didn’t understand how his friends—lovely, soft-skinned, sweet-smelling omegas—could actually want to touch them, or be touched by them. (this is just one of the many, MANY faves I had from the gaybo ficfest, A+ all around)

Constant Debauchery, by Blake/ @newleafover. Harry is an alpha who loves getting his mouth knotted by other alphas. Louis is happy to serve. Fun smut! But also angst and sexual awakenings. (Blake knows how to sum up their writing, lol, but YEAH, me as at least one of the comments both public and private saying they'd want to read 100k more of this)

how many nights did I crash against the waves, by Blake/ @newleafover Louis is going into heat and Harry thinks it's hot. (the SKILL of writing something that's 1.7k, yet builds a complete--and v. v. hot--world)

7 fics with Harry and someone else

(I still have a few I need to read in this category--I'm getting there! But these are some from my fave authors that really had me pondering some walls [heh])

I Want Your Belly, by @glasscushion. Harry wants Adam to knock him up. Inspired by on-stage thirst, the Instagram Stories Shirt, Watermelon Sugar, and Harry’s persistent baby fever. (Adam/Harry, mpreg kink of the finest order!!)

Rachel, Nevada, by @vondrostes. Harry has a close sexual encounter of the fourth kind. (Jeff/Harry, Rachel/Harry, and I honestly can't even BEGIN to describe this, holy WOW)

Sea Salt, by @glasscushion. Nick's drunk, and he can't avoid his feelings forever. Set in 2013 and 2019. (Nick/Harry, rip gryles...the grylers I know had an absolute field day in terms of angst, damn!)

all my lies are safe beside you now, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. They both know what it was like to love Louis Tomlinson fiercely, irrevocably, ghosts of it on their skin, even if the traces were etched in vastly different ways. (Zayn/Harry, and FOR REAL, this is a huge ouch)

call me anything you like, but my name is, by @wishforwishes. Some conversations are better left forgotten, some conversations are worth remembering, and some conversations you never get the chance to have. Featuring three mentors, two tea parties, one and a half recording studios, and a reference to Archie comics. (Harry/CHASM, essentially; LISTEN, I am obsessed with this fic, you don't need to read part one to really Get It, but the bits with Zayn, and James/Ben, and all the parts with Harry working through gender? SO GODDAMNED REAL)

Come Out and Play, by @dinosaursmate. Harry and Louis discover a new kink in their relationship, and it brings all the boys closer than they could have ever imagined. (ot5 orgy, so not really Harry with anyone so much as everyone with everyone, and let's call this one canon)

Like a Rolling Stone, by @vondrostes. By the end of it, Nick realised his tea had gone cold in his hand. He’d barely taken a single sip in the hour-plus he’d been sat there, unmoving, transfixed by Harry’s songs—haunted by the knowledge of what had inspired them. (Nick/Harry, rip gryles)

8 canon fics

(This was a VERY hard category to narrow down, but yeah, a big push this year from "newer" writers = lots of nuanced fic)

Per Aspera, by @sedfierisentio. Louis’s throat feels tight, his heart like a hammer in his chest. You know my rot, he thinks, and I know yours. I love you still. (these achingly beautiful time stamps are centered around taste, and if this fic has taught me anything, it's that buying an author a coffee has a ripple effect)

A Nullo Amato, by @sedfierisentio. Inspired by Harry carrying books around outside LAX, a canon-compliant, Canon AU fic set between 2014 and 2015; mostly, timestamps roped together by a common theme—literature. (this was removed four years ago and reposted, so maybe it's a cheat??? i don't care, it was brand-new to me and a lot of other people, I'm so glad the author shared it again!)

no love like your love, by @dykes4louis. A collection of tumblr drabbles. (Hima is REALLY burying the lede on this one because each of these is short and SCORCHING, her skill, check out her other works, too!)

Dancing in My Dreams, by @kingsofeverything. Louis doesn't mean to imply that Harry's too old to dance for him, but Harry takes it that way, and sets out to prove him wrong. (this is one that *could* go in the series pile, but I love it as a standalone...feels like canon to me, regardless!)

Sonic Sounds, by @glasscushion. "Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say "really wet." Or Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help. (I'll never look at those One Direction electric toothbrushes quite the same way again)

Bruised Fruit, by @glasscushion. Louis is obsessed with the way Harry smells in the heat of LA. (hey, you know what, me, too, bitch, you ain't special...the way this fic SMELLS, my god, I"m obsessed)

be my once in a lifetime, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. Just like there are only four other people who will ever understand what it’s like growing up in One Direction, there’s only one other person who knows what it’s like to find your soulmate just before you’re thrown into the spotlight and forced to acknowledge that the both of you have too many flaws and vices to make it through fame together. Or: It's all about having sex and being sad. And drunk. (can u believe Nina wrote this before Fine Line???)

in this dress, by cabinbythesea. Louis is so lost in his eyes and his words he feels if a step above heaven exists, it has to be Harry. Loosely inspired by Harry’s dress from the director’s cut of Lights Up. (I sure hope we see even more fic inspired by every bit of this album/every video it produces)

9 fics by Phoenix/ @alienfuckeronmain

(This fandom doesn't deserve her, and I hope everyone's reading her other works because they're all so amazing, she's such an incredibly gifted writer, my fave of faves, my life is so much brighter with her in it...I could rec her all goddamned day, and I do slash will!!! Here are nine she cranked out this year, each one a gem in its own way)

Silver White Winters. In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down, aka, a Sound of Music AU (the shittiness in the comments underlines why we can't have nice things, but jesus CHRIST, this is so pure and good, and she cranked it out in, like, two hours)

I don't do that dance. Harry is easily the worst ballet dancer in her whole Intro to Ballet class. Except maybe Taylor Swift. (I adore how Phoenix writes girl Harry, but the way she writes Taylor? Unparalleled...nails her perfectly!)

magic, madness, heaven, sin, by @kerasines. It’s the flashing lights painting colors on her eyelids, it’s the drumming bass competing with her heartbeat. It’s the manic energy rippling through the crowd in waves, the deafening, frenzied passion filling the stadium that remind Eleanor that she actually used to like going to concerts. (technically, this one is FOR Phoenix, from Kim, but it takes a pairing that Phoenix is making her very own, so I'm counting it, lol)

Snakes and Stones. If you call a girl a snake enough, sometimes she becomes one. Her legs lengthen and fuse, her pupils shrink to slits. She gets colder and colder, until she has to spread herself on the warm cement beside the pool, soaking in heat, sipping gin and tonics to warm her blood so she does not turn to ice and shatter to bits. (god, I'm blanking on this ship name, but El/Taylor is such an inspired pairing, and I hope that P's drabbles make it over to ao3 in full)

Something good (will come from here). Taylor does not answer, because she is too busy licking her lips and pitching forward, as if Eleanor is the sky, or the sea. (you can practically SMELL this fic, El/Taylor drabble)

I Must Confess (I Still Believe). Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl's School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever. (this fic breaks my heart, the entire experience of its production and aftermath will forever be bittersweet, a gorgeous swansong)

Only One at the Finish Line. “I want to be another alpha’s omega,” is what he says, and it comes out like something reckless, something wild. Like he doesn't care anymore if Louis hates him or not, if Louis understands, he just needs to speak his truth aloud to darkness, to the slender pines that surround them like a jury panel. (Phoenix was the gaybo mod, and this was her contribution, and it is PERFECTION PERSONIFIED, fest goals)

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park. The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse. (a very good year in general for Princess Park clapbacks)

Life Saver. Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry? (this one came out a year ago tomorrow, and it had a tough birthing process, but it's so good, so hot, my love for virgin Harry gettin’ it on knows no bounds)

10 AU fics

(yes, yes, this could be LOADS longer, but I’m sticking to my theme!)

breathless for an eternity, by cabinbythesea. Harry conquers double duty on SNL and Louis wishes he was Nick Jonas. (dangggg, this came out too late for me to rec it along with my other snl-related fic, but it joins that lofty canon!)

Pretty Baby, by @littlelouishiccups. Louis helps Harry unwind after a busy week. (I was NOT expecting a new chapter in the iconic sugar baby Harry series, but HERE WE ARE)

into another (another) serotonin overflow, by @mercutionotromeo. Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey. (this is one of my all-time fave fics, and I'm not sure what changed in it to get it reposted, but yeah, HERE FOR IT, THANK YOU!!!)

'Sup, by @mediawhorefics. All Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him. ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis. (this is so short but so tantalizing, GOD, DO I WANT MORE OF THIS UNIVERSE)

Tan Lines and Some Memories, by twoshipstiedup. Harry Styles is the indie movie darling he’d been avoiding ever since Louis saw his movie at Cannes and harbored an unreasonable grudge against him. A unicorn t-shirt finally brings them together in person. (I honestly thought we'd get more unicorn shirt fic, but this is a wonderful standard-bearer, banter city)

Bitter Tangerine, by purpledaisy/ @daisyharry. Nine months after they break up, a twist of fate brings Harry and Louis back together at Christmas. (so much ouch in this, but wow, do you feel like you're reading fully realized, realistic, growing characters)

We're Driving in Your Fast Car, by @sadaveniren. Harry felt himself light up - both with excitement and the thrill of getting what he wanted. “Really?” “Of course, anything for you." aka Louis and Harry are car thieves about to pull off a million dollar job. (another one I'd love to read more of...how did they get here, where are they going, etc.)

remember you well, by @fondleeds. Harry’s a criminal, Louis’ a cop, and they’re stranded overnight at the Motel 6. (what's with me and my love of heist/caper fics this year?)

Tied Down, by HamPalpert/ @ham-palpert. The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated. (SEE ABOVE, JESUS, I THINK ABOUT THIS FIC...ALL...THE.......TIME)

Harry Styles Cooks..., by sunsetmog. Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them. (yeah, it's a wip, yeah, I flatline every time it updates, what of it, I'm living my best life vicariously through it!!)

#fic rec #faves of 2019 #i have so many more i love that i read #but this is a theme lmaooooo #hope that one anon loves it!

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uncloseted · 3 years

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1/2

1/2 Hi. I think I could use some help, I'll try to make this short. When I was 14yo (I'm 20 now) I dated a 18yo guy, thank God we were taking it slow and never made things official. Now that I'm older I can see that relash was rlly wrong. He was manipulating, used me to boost his ego, forced me to do things I wasn't comfortable doing and I think although we weren't official, he cheated on me? (more on that later). After a few months of fooling around, I found out something about him that I didn't like and confronted him about it, with the intention of ending that relash. He started begging me not to leave him, asking me tricky questions about the things I had heard of him with the intention of "making me realize" he did nothing wrong, and he even became violent with the person who told me those things, to the point I couldn't break up with him because I was scared. I just stopped answering his texts and calls because I was afraid of even talking to him and eventually he took the hint and suggested we broke up. We decided to stay friends, but that only lasted a few days, because one day, via Facebook Messenger, he suggested we got back together and I rejected him, so he blocked me. Months later, I had to close my Facebook due to harassment (not related to him) and opened a new one. Facebook showed me his profile in 'people you may know' and I decided to peek out of curiosity. Turns out, the moment we broke up, he started uploading photos with his new girlfriend. The descriptions of those pics said the exact same things he used to tell me, and I ain't good a math but I did some calcs and he had to be with her while still being with me lmao. I really didn't care, I was just happy I got rid of him, and I moved on with my life. Some time later I fell head over heels for a guy from my workplace, who I still hold close to my heart. I have trust issues and I am a very private person, especially with my relashs, so I didn't tell anyone about this guy except from like 3 friends. One of them was a girl (that we'll call Anne) who was like a sister to me, and was also friends with my ex. Over the next 2 years I had a relash with this guy, everytime I talked to Anne I used to tell her more details about my relash. Then, one day, I got a text from my ex. He texted me like we were besties and nothing had ever happened between us, like he didn't block me TWICE (yeah, he blocked me from my new Facebook too even though I never tried to reach out to him). I was angry at his nerve and told him so, he realized I was upset and changed his persona from confident and tough as nails to regretful and soft, telling me he was sorry for being so immature all those years before, but excusing his shitty behavior by saying he always "kept an eye on me". Um, wtf? He told me he was always asking stuff about me to Anne, looking out for me. I wanted to know what exactly he knew, but, trying to manipulate me again, he said he would only tell me if I accepted to play a game with him: I could ask him one question if he would ask me one in exchange and so on, and we had to be ttly honest with each other. I really didn't wanna get into his shenanigans but I only had one question (wtf do u exactly know about me, creep?) so I accepted. He asked his question first (dID u fEeL sAd wHeN i bLoCkEd U?) and I asked mine. I thought he maybe knew something about my school stuff and MAYBE that I had been dating someone else. Turns out he knew every. single. detail about my personal life. Not only he KNEW I was with other guy...

2/2 Not only he KNEW I was with other guy. He knew his entire name, the school he attended and every little detail from our relationship and other stuff about my personal life. Every single thing I told Anne, opening my heart to her, she told him. I felt terribly violated. I felt like a dissected frog, open for anyone to see my most inner parts. I felt ashamed, unprotected, sad and angry, all at the same time. I told him what he did was disgusting, to never reach me again or try to "keep an eye on me", and that I would make that job easier for him by getting Anne out of my life. He apologized, said he understood the situation, would respect my wishes, and wished me a happy life. I thought that was it. It took me a while but I got to heal, to feel safe again, although I still have a hard time trusting my friends. But I was wrong. Months later he sent me a Friend Resquest. I was a lil afraid, but tried to calm myself saying he probably just was checking if I was still upset, so I rejected the request and again convinced myself that was really it. But then he sent some girls to take pictures of me during my high school graduation ceremony and recently, his cousin (who was my friend when we were 14 but haven't talked since) texted me. I know that sometimes nostalgia makes you reach out to old friends, but we weren't close at all. Besides, he acted super weird, didn't even try to make small talk or let the convo flow naturally, but went straight for super specific and weird questions: are you studying college? what are you doing with your life? are you in a relationship? I was really weirded out and considered the possibility he may have been asking all those things because my ex asked him to do so, so I kept my answers short and vague, not giving him the info he wanted, and although I def came out as cutting, he kept asking. I tried to still be friendly because I didn't wanna seem paranoid, but I think he realized I wasn't telling him anything over texts, so he asked me to meet again over some beers with his friends on October 27th and that's when I stopped answering. I thought about that strange invitation for a few days until it hit me: October 27th is my ex's birthday. So much about respecting my wishes. I spent the rest of that month really nervous that cousing would try to reach out again, but nothing happened and I started to feel calmed again. Until, in November, he wrote me again, this time asking me if I wanted to go to the beach with his friends. I haven't even bother to open that text. Since them, I've been super paranoid. I know my ex's attacks aren't that consecutive (more like every two years: he contacted me and sent me that friend request when I was 16, hijacked my graduation at 18 and now sends his cousin at 20) but I can't help but think he's always there "keeping an eye on me" and planning his next move. I stopped accepting any friend requests because I'm afraid he will send someone for me, and if someone I already have on my friend list but idk texts me and after some small talks asks me about my life, I get paranoid and ask them why they wanna know and if they have some hidden intentions. Also, there's a mall near his house, and everytime I have to go there to buy something, I feel like crying because I'm afraid I'll stumble with him. I probably sound crazy. Some people may think I'm exaggerating and I should just let my ex stalk me and act all obsessed, but I feel dirty everytime I think about him knowing my personal stuff. It was just so traumatizing the first time. Do you get me? I feel like nobody gets me. Please help me, what can I do? I don't know how to make him stop, I'm tired of living in fear.

Not to start this off with an unrelated thought, but when did Tumblr get rid of its character limit on asks? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it let someone send in a message this long in one ask.

To get to your situation, I can definitely see why this would be a stressful and uncomfortable situation for you. The first thing I would do is to stop interacting with your ex and people related to your ex. You don’t owe his cousin anything. Block both of their numbers, block their social media accounts, etc., and do that for everyone else who’s friends with your ex (or put them on limited profile/create a “close friends” list on social media). Tell all of your friends in no uncertain terms that you don’t want them talking about you to your ex, even if it’s stuff that seems harmless, and cut those people off if they do talk to your ex about you.

The other action you could take is to file a restraining order. If you go down that route, you’ll have to fill out some forms and file them with the court, and then have a hearing with a judge where you explain your situation. Then, you’ll have a second appearance in court where the stalker is present, and you both get the opportunity to explain the situation. The judge will then determine the final order and the conditions of that order. It can be a bit of an involved process, but it may give you some peace of mind.

The last thing I would suggest is going to therapy. It seems like you’ve been through something traumatic, and a mental health professional can help you to work through that and move on from it. There are many options for therapy, both online and in-person. If you have health insurance, your insurance should cover at least some therapy sessions. If not, some therapists provide services on a sliding-scale, and online services like BetterHelp can be less expensive than traditional therapy.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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readersguidetotheuniverse · 4 years

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Folie a Trois: a group read of... More Than Maybe by Erin Hahn

The supporting characters

Ariadna: From Zack to Meg, Phil to Marcus... I really liked that the supporting characters had background and depth... for a YA romance novel, that it is. Ok, they are not the deepest, most exceptional characters –they are a little bit stereotyped, and everything is sooo rose-coloured tinted–, but I appreciate how the relationships between them are depicted and how every one of them has their own unique quirks and background story. Nevertheless, I must add... I think Hahn’s attempt to make all the characters these goody-two-shoes has made some characters sort of a decaf version of what they should realistically be, see Charlie Greenly, Phil Josephs, Cullen... At times they were so soft they became even boring to me. I understand Hahn’s religious views, but honestly, no one is that good.

Alicia: I liked the supporting characters quite a lot, actually, all of them. In many young adult novels you find rather flat secondary characters that only exist to complement the main characters, but not in this one. All of them were complex, with their own defined personalities and their own stories. There were a few moments when I got a bit irritated by someone's actions, Cullen uploading Luke's song behind his back, for example. But real people are flawed and make mistakes so it's only fair that fictional characters do, too.

Marina: First off, I have to say I loved all the secondary characters. I have to agree with Ariadna though, they are not overly deep but they get you right on the feels. I especially enjoyed seeing the different relationships between them –Zach and Cullen <3–. To be honest I found it a bit frustrating that they all kept telling Vada how amazing she is and how well she’s doing but it takes Luke, a person whom she’s officially met recently, to stand up to her dead-beat father. Talking about fathers, Phil is an amazing father figure and I’m really glad he at least encouraged Vada to follow her dreams. On a side note, can I just say that the first time I read about Cullen and Zach I pictured a more lanky version of Emmett Cullen dating Zeke (from high School Musical)? And that’s why I found it hilariously amusing when they started talking about Teen Wolf. Whatever happened to those DVDs?!

The ‘Bad Apple’ club aka Charlie Greenly

Ariadna: We all grasp to certain extent how business —corporate, big-money businesses— work, and it is understandable Charlie’s nasty partners took advantage of a teen’s rage burst, but, oh, man, how it bothered me when they tried to ruin poor Phil’s fund-raiser... What bothered me the most, though, is how Charlie Greenly was that blind, how he couldn’t see, beyond his own interests, how important the Loud Lizard was for Luke, his friends and for Ann Arbor, or to what extent the whole ‘Break for You’ issue bothered his own son. I honestly think his heroic act at the end doesn’t quite redeem him of the harm he has done. Besides, Charlie was supposed to be a Punk-rock star... What’s really left of that personality? Has her wife and kids completely transformed him into a dull wimp? Not quite believable, this character is.

Alicia: Charlie made me so mad at him that sometimes I wanted to throw the book across the room. I understand parents always think they know best, it's in their parent DNA. But it was really frustrating and irritating how he kept trying to get Luke to do whatever he wanted, without considering what his son actually wanted. He kept trying to convince Luke to do something he had stated time and time he didn't want to do and was not going to do. He used him for his own interests and treated him kinda badly just cause he didn't fit with his own expectations for him. Realistic as it could be for most people, it's still shitty. It's almost cathartic how he redeems himself at the end by quitting Bad Apple to support his son but that doesn't change his shitty behavior towards Luke during most of the novel.

Marina: I mean Charlie didn’t seem the brightest of the Greenly family, to be honest. I think he should probably listen to his sons more (and his wife). I find it hard to believe he didn’t know what he was getting into. He was a famous punk-rocker at a time where you had to be clever and sharp-witted, like, is he smart enough to stay away from hard drugs and keep his career afloat (and later become an accomplished music producer) but not know how to choose business partners? Apparently. And talking about his previous life as a punk-star… Can he stop trying to live his life through Luke? It finally dawned on him in the end, yes, but throughout the book Luke (and later Cullen) explicitly told him he didn’t want to be famous, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour!

Soundtrack

Ariadna: While some of the tracks on this book’s OST are not my cup of tea (see Demi and Taylor), I must confess: I’ve been listening to TøP the whole week. Hahn got me at Car Radio *shrugs*. Working in the book industry, I’ve always felt books, when possible, should offer something extra. I really love that this book, even more considering it is addressed to teens and YA, offers this little something to connect it to the readers’ real world, to make the story even more realistic. I think it is a loss that the book itself doesn’t include a QR code or a link to a playlist itself, but it is an easy search away in Spotify, thanks to some nice reader that has already put it up!

Alicia: I just had this one little issue with the music/artists mentioned in the novel: Vada hates Stevie Nicks and consequently I hate Vada. There won't be any hate towards Stevie Nicks in my presence. She is an excellent artist and I will not hear otherwise. Other than that I actually loved how important music in general is in the novel and how many real actual songs are shared along the story. I expected to find mostly alternative/indie bands so there was no surprise there. And music can tell a lot about someone so it was interesting to see the music Luke and Vada listen to, to understand them better. Also it was really nice to get so many songs in so many different styles to actually discover new songs myself. I'm really happy about how music really does play an important part in the book.

Marina: I’ve mentioned I like it when authors add their little soundtracks to the books but this one goes far beyond that. You get to listen to the songs throughout the characters’ actions and feelings and the music is not only an add-on but it becomes part of the plot. Which, granted, it’s a book about a girl who writes reviews about bands and a boy that writes songs, how can music not be part of the book? But it goes beyond the “here’s a song that inspired this chapter/book/scene” to a basic subplot. Coincidentally, we all looked up different songs on Spotify because we hadn’t heard them before and we found a playlist made by a reader, we hope you enjoy it too!

Vada and Luke’s relationship

Ariadna: It is interesting to read a YA romance novel in which the main action doesn’t revolve 100% around the romance. It is way healthier than most: both Vada and Luke have clear goals and motivations that are not biased by their relationship, they motivate and encourage each other, there is no narcissistic chauvinist - submissive flower dynamics going on —thank the gods–, and they are supercute and honest with themselves. However —I always have one of these–, it is still a naive teen relationship, mostly in terms of the plotting and the writing. Surprisingly —see the irony— they both have had crushes on each other for years, but they haven’t acted upon it until now. They NEVER fail, get mad, do any bad deeds... ANYTHING. Are they even teenagers? Honestly, I hate when the characters in a book are these holier-than-thou perfection vessels. Added to the not-really-that-big-of-a-deal problems (what happened with the instagram issue? What about Vada’s funds for college? They don’t even really get *really* mad because of the Bad Apple thingy...), they feel kind of bland and not too realistic for my tastes.

Alicia: At the beginning I thought it was a bit rushed, how quickly they trusted each other considering they had barely interacted before. Even if they had a crush on the other that doesn't mean they actually knew that person, not really. As they spent more time together and got to know each other, their relationship evolved pretty organically and naturally, to a point when it just made sense. It was really cute to see how they got closer through awkward encounters and how their passion for music helped them connect and relate to the other. Having read many young adult romances, it gets old very fast. The stories get kinda predictable and hard to believe. This one also had some predictable moments, almost all of them do, but overall it was a really nice love story, one I could actually believe.

Marina: To be honest, I expected this book to be less about the music and more about the relationship between Luke and Vada. I think what Erin Hahn accomplished in this book is to show a much more mature relationship than I expected. I thought this would be your typical YA-Romance with a lot of drama and kissing, but instead I got a slow-burn story (so slow, it felt like moving through molasses) with depth, insecurities and, yes, drama. I think both these characters are more mature than expected on a YA romance novel and it was surprisingly refreshing. You still get some teenage-y sub-plots, i.e. the prom or even the 15-minutes of fame; but it doesn’t take away from the blossoming relationship between Luke and Vada.

The Grass is Greenly and Behind the Music

Ariadna: I must be growing too old for this s**t, but I don’t get the whole podcast/blog thing. I get it, social networking does this kind of thing: turning a nobody into an internet sensation in a matter of days, but... I agree with Alicia, it is too much of a coincidence (one of the deus-ex-machina I so much hate) that both the main characters are internet-known... in a blog, nonetheless! Maybe Hahn could have used precisely this internet presence to make Vada and Luke meet each other, instead of the too-worn-out high-school cliché. And Marina has made me think... maybe some interludes as Cullen’s podcasts, letting us know some behind-the-scenes gossip (The Lindsay issue, Luke and Vada’s first kiss becoming viral, and so on...), would have spiced up the novel a bit more.

Alicia: Okay here's the part I just didn't believe and kind of threw me off a bit. What are the chances of a music blog and a podcast, both run by teenagers of the same age in the same city in the same bar, becoming really popular and actually viral. Who even reads blogs anymore anyway? (Says while writing in a blog). It was just quite hard to believe so many people read Behind the Music that even ROLLING STONE became interested. Yeah sure this extremely known successful music magazine wants a fresh out of high school blogger to work for them. And then the podcast. What could two teens have to say to have a podcast so popular that when Cullen uploads Luke's song it literally gets millions of reproductions and attracts attention everywhere. And both of them being run by two people working in the same place, going to the same high school… the world is not actually that small. Sorry it's just kind of extremely unrealistic and didn't particularly like that part.

Marina: Seeing the “behind-the-scenes” of the day to day of a podcast was very interesting. I guess it would have been better if Cullen told the story as he is the one that does most of the work. Also, how did they get that famous? Is it just because of their dad? I don’t really get it. On the other side, I find it incredibly unbelievable that a teenage girl has that much input on a music blog that isn’t even hers and gets to go to concerts and stuff like that. I get that Phil is a cool guy but how come the blog is so famous and he doesn’t really care about it or mentions it much during the book besides sending Vada places? I just don’t understand that.

Overall

Ariadna: Honestly, I’m not one for YA romance novels, I think I’ve outgrown them by far, and they usually bore me. That said, this book has surprised me for good. It is a light read, doesn’t follow the genre clichés, it doesn’t make everything revolve around the main characters’ love interest, the supporting characters have personalities of their own and it has a wide-ranged well-put playlist, which I think is great for teens and young adults to read. I particularly didn’t like the religious issues coming up from time to time, but, overall, this is the best written book of the three we’ve already read for Folie a Trois, and that’s a lot to say!

Alicia: Overall it was a really cute book. Initially it took me a while to get into it cause the plot wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, that was a tad disappointing. But then once you begin knowing the characters and they begin to know each other as well it's quite captivating and easy and quick to read. I really enjoyed the love story, I loved how diverse the characters are and how they interacted. I really like how the plot develops, too. If you're looking for a soft, cute, easy enjoyable read I definitely recommend this one.

Marina: As most YA books that I read, it was entertaining but it didn't change my life. I really did like Vada and Luke's relationship, as I said I find it more mature for this genre; the music was a big highlight and the drama wasn't overwhelmingly dumb (as is the case in some other books). Overall a good book for summer and a light read for any other season ;)

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