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barclaysangel · 2 years

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Sick Day

This is 100% dedicated to @streets-in-paradise as a little belated birthday present (feliz cumpleaños, amiga!)!

Lucy, remember how I was writing a Barclay-Wheeler oneshot where Andy was sick and Jake and Junior were taking care of him BACK IN JULY (I'm awful, I know)? Well, since I realized too late it was your birthday yesterday, I decided I was going to buckle down and finish the oneshot. I spent all night and this morning writing it and I finally finished this 3.3K oneshot!

I reeeeeeally hope you like it, sweetface, because I started writing this when I was still weary of my Andy skills so I hope I did him justice by writing in his POV. Also...I think this is the first Barclay-Wheeler written thing that I've ever posted. So...congrats to me I guess!

I hope whoever also reads this enjoys it, please comment what you think of it! Comments help fuel me and make me feel motivated!

Thank you and enjoy :)

As soon as Andy started waking up, he was aware of his head pounding.

He was confused as to why he had a huge headache that felt like someone was trying to drill a hole into his brain. But it wasn’t until he became more aware of his scratchy throat when it finally occurred to him what was going on.

Andy was sick.

Great. That’s exactly what he needed.

He had spent nearly two weeks taking care of the boys when they got sick. First Junior and it didn’t take long for him to pass his illness onto Jake since the latter had been determined to also help out his cousin due to Junior not dealing with being sick well.

They were both doing better now, Junior being completely healthy and Jake still having the occasional cough, but Andy actually thought that he managed to avoid getting sick also.

That was proven to be entirely false when he woke up with a headache and sore throat.

Fuck, this was going to suck.

Andy groaned, the sound not agreeing with his throat and caused him to cough into his fist. Jesus, when was the last time he had been sick? He could barely even remember, but he knew that he took care of himself well enough. Except now he had to take care of the boys and himself.

It would be fine. He could pretend to be healthy, it wouldn’t be that difficult. He needed to focus on Jake and Junior, he could worry about himself later.

It was proving to be more difficult than he thought, physically pulling his body off of bed when every part of him wanted to just lie down and stay there for the rest of the week. What got Andy to keep going and move his legs out the bedroom door was the thought of having to take care of his boys.

He definitely didn’t want them to try and cook or anything. Especially Junior. Things tended to be very flammable whenever he was too close to the stove.

At least Jake was a better cook, but he still wanted to be the one to make meals for them anyway.

Andy all but stumbled into the kitchen, one hand on his head and his eyes just managing to stay open. The boys weren’t there yet, thankfully. He could still hear them bickering in one of their rooms, just like they do every morning.

He was pretty sure they got along better when they were fighting than when they were actually being nice to each other.

Andy leaned his forehead against the refrigerator doors, accepting as much of the coldness as he could against his burning head and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, probably for a minute or maybe even ten minutes, but he pulled himself away and opened his eyes once he heard the familiar footsteps from the chaotic teenagers that he took in.

“Good morning.” Jake said as he walked into the kitchen, Junior coming in with a “morning, Andy” as well.

“Mornin’.” Andy responded and tried his hardest not to wince from how scratchy his voice sounded and felt, hoping that it wasn’t noticeable.

“Dude, why do you sound like how Kyle’s gonna sound like in ten years if she keeps smoking?” Junior asked and yelped quietly under his breath, presumably from Jake nudging his elbow against his cousin, a habit he got into if he was sure that Junior’s words were a little too blunt and mean.

Apparently, his new “smoker voice” was more noticeable than he realized.

“I just woke up, kid, not everyone sounds great when they first wake up.” Andy told him, keeping his back turned to the boys as he opened the fridge door to grab the milk and eggs so he could make pancakes, something he did every Saturday.

“I mean, you do sound…off.” Jake chimed in this time and even though he wasn’t looking at the kids, Andy knew could practically feel them staring at him.

“I don’t sound off, this is how I normally sound.” He insisted, swallowing a few times in a pitiful attempt to soothe his sore throat, which felt like he was swallowing glass, as he went over to one of the cabinets and grabbed a bowl.

“We know how you usually sound, short stack. You having a gravelly smoker voice is definitely new.” Junior said, somehow not earning an elbow nudge from Jake.

Andy turned his head to shoot Junior a glare for the short comment. The glare must’ve looked pathetic because both of the teenager’s eyebrows scrunched together in concern so he quickly turned his attention back to the pancakes he was trying to make.

“Are you okay, Andy?” Jake asked him, a worried tone in his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He reassured Jake in a—hopefully—convincing manner. He wasn’t quite sure if it worked, but he hoped so.

Andy closed his eyes in an attempt calm the raging headache that was growing by the minute. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes when he cracked one of the eggs.

“Uh…Andy?”

“Hm?”

“You just cracked the egg into the sink…the bowl is behind you.”

Andy opened his eyes and sure enough, he realized that he had indeed cracked the egg into the sink, judging by the almost sickening yellow yolk that was staring up at him. He rubbed his forehead with one hand and dropped the egg shells into the sink, grabbing another egg and turning around to face the bowl.

“Mhm, yeah. I knew that. Was just…testing to see if the egg was still good.” He lied, trying once again to sound convincing but knew that the boys weren’t buying it.

“Andy, you’re an even shittier liar than Jake and that’s definitely saying something.” Junior bluntly told him, which prompted another elbow to his ribs from Jake and he shot his cousin a deadly glare. Then Junior turned his attention back to the adult, squinting for a moment before his eyes widened with realization. “Oh, shit…you’re sick, aren’t you?”

“No, ‘m not sick.” Andy denied and looked away from Junior’s piercing stare.

Then his body decided to betray him, quickly burying his face into the crook of his elbow as he sneezed harshly three times in a row. Andy sneezed so hard he nearly doubled over, his back aching in the process, but he’d die before admitting that and dealing with another joke about him being old from the boys.

No one said anything for a moment before Jake broke the silence. “Yeah, you’re definitely sick.”

Junior suddenly nudged his cousin’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good job, Jake, you gave Andy your disease.”

Jake gave Junior an incredulous look. “I gave him my disease? You were sick first and then got me sick, you jackass!”

“Enough!” Andy stopped the fight that was bound to break out between the cousins by raising his voice. It succeeded, but the adult nearly winced again from the headache his own damn voice gave him. He still swallowed what was left of his pride, quickly wiping his nose on his sleeve before straightening up. “I’m not sick. I’m just tired. I’m fine.”

For a moment, the boys didn’t look convinced at all. They just stared at him, eyebrows raised until Junior sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sure you aren’t sick. You probably just didn’t get enough sleep.” He said in such a casual tone that it made Andy raise an eyebrow this time.

“Uh huh…yeah.”

“Right,” Junior took a few steps closer until they were only a couple feet apart, “that’s exactly what’s going on, it makes total sense.” He then put his hand on Andy’s cheek, patting it a couple times almost goodheartedly before whirling his head toward Jake. “He has a fever, definitely sick.”

Oh, that little shit! Andy cursed mentally.

He should’ve known that the most mischievous of the two kids he adopted had a trick up his sleeve, he always did.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before he got sick.” Jake said while standing up, shaking his head and observing the grown man more.

“Kids, I am fine!“ Andy tried to convince them but his shitty lies fell upon deaf ears, Junior’s hand moving to the back of his shoulder and gently pushing him out of the kitchen.

“Yeah right, you seriously are a worse liar than Jake.” Junior scoffed and ignored his cousin’s “hey!” at the slight jab toward him while the latter grabbed his sleeve and joined in on tugging the adult toward his bedroom.

Andy knew that the little shits weren’t going to be listening to him at this point, so he just gave up. At least, that’s what he told himself. He really was exhausted and every part of him was screaming to just lie down and fall asleep.

He didn’t even bother trying to hold his ground and stop the boys from dragging him back to his bedroom. Andy knew that it wouldn’t work to begin with—damn those boys for being already taller than he was—so he continued stumbling over his own feet until they finally got to his room.

“Okay, get in bed, Andy.” Jake said stubbornly, lightly pushing him onto his bed.

Andy sat on the bed before adjusting himself to start lying down, having almost no energy to continue arguing with the boys. The cousins got to work pulling the blankets up to Andy’s shoulders, finally getting the adult to protest.

“You-you two really don’t need to do all this—”

“Andy, I will punch your lights out to make sure you rest if I have to. Don’t test me.” Junior threatened the man while practically tucking him in, Jake finally not nudging his cousin despite his almost terrifying warning.

It seemed as if, for once, they were both in agreement.

Great, he was being bullied by two teenagers.

Andy opened his mouth to speak but instead began coughing severely into his fist. Each painful sounding cough was enough to make his lungs ache and his back to feel like he was being stabbed. He wasn’t sure how long he was coughing for, not until he was able to feel Junior’s hand patting his back to ease his coughing and then Jake pressing a glass of water to his hands so he could drink it.

When did he get a glass of water?

Andy’s coughs began to slow down so he was able to drink his water, carefully sipping it. The cool liquid helped refresh his burning esophagus but still brought a painful feeling in the back of his throat. However, it was enough for his coughs to subside, barely being able to keep his eyes open anymore.

“Just go to sleep, Andy. You took care of us, now it’s our turn to take care of you.” Jake said softly now, to probably not aggravate Andy’s headache, taking the glass away and putting it on the nightstand beside him.

He finally allowed himself to rest his head on his pillow, almost melting from the feeling. His body started to relax, even though he was shivering from his fever, and despite every part of him wanting to argue, to insist that he was fine and that he didn’t need to be taken care of by his own kids just because he was sick, he didn’t anymore. Andy was just too fucking exhausted at this point.

Just before he could drift off, he heard Junior whisper a “G’night, mom” before he finally succumbed to the sleep he so desperately needed.

At some point, Andy woke up. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but the sun was no longer glaring through his window. In fact, the room was almost dark now.

He realized that there was a damp rag on his forehead, reaching one hand up to pull it aside and drop it beside himself on the bed. His throat was still sore, body aching, and head pounding, but he had to admit, he did feel a bit better. He was no longer shaking with the chills, thankfully, the fever must’ve broken.

Andy tried to lift his head to see what time it was on the clock before Junior suddenly poked his head into the bedroom and grinned.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” He said enthusiastically before calling out to his cousin. “Jake! Sleeping Beauty has risen from his slumber!”

The adult rolled his eyes at the very inaccurate comparison while Jake quickly rushed into the room, both cousins now almost awkwardly yet worryingly hovering over him.

Jesus, was he like this when the boys were sick a couple weeks ago?

“How long have I been out?” Andy asked, his voice still grating but not as painful as before.

The teens paused before Jake smiled delicately. “…nine hours.”

Andy’s eyes widened. “Nine hours—?!” He started to exclaim before coughing. Just like before, nine hours ago apparently, Jake helped him drink the now completely full glass of water until he was able to stop his coughing fit.

“I mean, it wasn’t consecutive,” Junior ended up correcting with his hands on his hips, “you kept going in and out of consciousness.”

“I was?”

“You don’t remember?” Jake asked and the adult shook his head. “Huh…that kind of makes sense. You were really out of it. Delirious and shit, mumbling too.”

“Try enunciating next time, so we could further understand the ramblings of a mad man.” Junior threw in with a teasing smile, ignoring the glare from his cousin.

Andy rubbed a hand over his face, trying to process all of this. “Yeah, I…don’t remember anything. Last thing I remember was you two putting me to bed. And that was it.”

“I mean, I guess it’s not that surprising. You did have a really bad fever,” Jake said before reaching out and placing the back of his hand to Andy’s forehead, then pulling it away, “Which has gone down now, thank god.”

“That’s definitely good because your fever did get pretty bad. We were worried that we were gonna have to drag your ass to your car and then I’d have to personally drive you to the hospital. Or worse,” Junior paused, most likely for dramatic effect, “call Aunt Kyle.”

“Thank you for not doing either of those things.” Andy truly was grateful that the boys were able to lower his fever so neither of those options happened. He sure as hell didn’t trust Junior behind the wheel, the kid enjoyed speed far too much and then all three of them would be in the hospital.

As for Kyle…he’d rather not deal with her yelling about how he should’ve called her because he was sick. She’d be far more overprotective over him than the boys were being, so he would worry about her later.

Jake moved to sit down beside Andy on the bed, Junior doing the same on Andy’s opposite side and leaned his back against the wall. “Are you feeling better now, Andy?” Jake asked, his eyes still laced with concern.

Andy looked at the boys and nodded slightly, cracking a small smile. “Yeah, I’m doing better. Thanks,” he paused for a moment, “you two really didn’t need to take care of me like this, I would’ve been fine on my own.”

“That’s it, I’m gonna punch him.”

“No, Junior, you’ll make his headache worse.”

Thank you Jake for assuring that Junior won’t punch me just because of my headache. Andy thought to himself sarcastically.

“Look, all I’m just saying is…” the man thought about the correct way to phrase it so he wouldn’t earn a punch from one of his kids, who certainly looked eager to deliver at the moment, “I’m the adult. You two are the children—I know you’re teenagers, don’t give me that look, just roll with me here. I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around.”

“But you always take care of us,” Junior reminded him, “every single day. Especially when we were sick. Did your brain get fried so much from your fever that you don’t remember?” The last comment finally attained a nudge to his side by Jake’s elbow, leaving Junior to scowl at his cousin.

“Look, what Junior was trying to say before his asshole alert went off was that it isn’t a crime for us to take care of you. You always take care of us and this time, it was our turn to take care of you. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Jake translated for his cousin as Junior nodded along in agreement.

Andy supposed, if he thought about it, the boys were right. Everyday, his sole focus was on taking care of the kids. When they got sick, those feelings were enhanced. He rubbed Junior’s back when he coughed so hard that he threw up, he lifted Jake’s head so he could drink water because he was too physically drained to do it on his own.

From the moment he had the Wheeler cousins, his goal was set to being there for and helping them. Their previous fathers certainly never understood the role that Andy took on, so he made sure to give all the love and support that he had to the boys.

So maybe, it would be okay to let Jake and Junior take care of him while he’s sick.

Just this once.

“Thank you, you little shits.” Andy said to them with a fond smile.

“You’re welcome, mom.” The cousins said simultaneously, something that he was sure that they picked up from Glen and Glenda.

Great, he had to deal with another set of twins. Except they weren’t actually twins, just cousins that were born a few weeks apart.

“You hungry?” Jake asked. “I have chicken soup on the stove, I just need to heat it up since I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”

Andy nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I’m kind of hungry, thanks.” He said as he tried to sit up. Both boys got into action in helping him, propping a few pillows behind him so he could comfortably lean back against the wall.

The adult knew that the kids picked that up from him, remembering clearly that this was how he would sit them up so they could eat when they were sick.

Jake left the room to get started on the soup and Junior scooted closer to Andy, resting his head on his shoulder. “You two have eaten, right?” Andy asked, already growing concerned at the mere thought that the boys became so focused on taking care of him that they forgot to feed themselves.

“Yeah, yeah, we ate.” Junior quickly reassured him. “We’re running on Jake’s pancakes and last night’s leftover lasagna. His pancakes aren’t quite as good as yours, but they made do. And we ate an entire bag of party size Fritos chips.” Junior paused, now bashful. “Okay, I lied, I ate the entire huge ass bag of chips, not Jake.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re well fed, kiddo.” Andy said quickly, playfully nudging his cheek to the top of the teenager’s head, hearing his kid giggle.

He knew that Junior still struggled with food at times and couldn’t care less that he ate an entire party size bag full of chips. The kids could eat as much as they wanted, they deserved it.

Besides, Andy bought those chips knowing how much Junior loved them. It was about time that he went to town on them.

They sat there in peaceful silence for a few minutes, the silence occasionally being interrupted by the adult coughing, before Jake came in with the soup. The boys started conversing while Andy slowly ate, listening to them joke around and squabble with each other with a smile.

Maybe being sick and having my sons around isn’t so bad. He thought to himself as he watched Jake and Junior.

After a moment of watching them endearingly, Andy smiled more.

Yeah, this really wasn’t so bad after all.

#Luna talks #admin #birthday gift to Lucy #Chucky #Chucky 2021 #Child's Play #Andy Barclay #Jake Wheeler #Junior Wheeler #AU #Barclay-Wheeler family #chaos cousins #sick fic #oneshot #Sick Day #Chucky fic #Chucky oneshot #please comment to let me know what you think of this!#comments help fuel my motivation :)

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papirouge · 1 year

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I was never kicked out of a church or youth group before, but I was kicked out of my local pro life group.

I already felt uncomfortable being the only black girl but nobody was mean to me at the beginning. I wear my hair natural so a few girls would like to ask about it. Although one girl I saw had braids in. Straight, thin blonde hair. You know where this is going. She thought she ate and always acted up around me. It was awkward. Didn’t surprise me when I saw her right before I left the group with a shaved head because her hair couldn’t be saved.

Ok, my experience at this group was weird and bad. I noticed quickly how FOCUSED the leader (much older white lady with a strong southern accent) was on children and rape. Like, she was obsessed. Something in my spirit was telling me she wasn’t right.. I got bad vibes from her. She would always talk about raped girls, always very young girls on how they must always have babies because they’re women and women are meant to have babies. First time I got called out was when I said something like “well, no, because we’re talking about A CHILD. A child was raped always if she is pregnant and a child is NOT a woman. *A child can never consent to sex* ” That older white lady snapped at me saying “Yes they can” and I honestly think God told me immediately after hearing that, that lady was a p3do. Who is that obsessed like that. I stayed in the group a bit longer but I felt more uncomfortable with the topic of kids and sex coming from her. I got called a Cuban communist (???)once by this ugly man who never washed his hair and always had crusty toothpaste around his mouth for wanting to create a pool of money to help pay for a few women’s prenatal healthcare because he said “those women don’t need help, they need to learn responsibility and not open their legs.” Um? Sir? First all, why you here? Second, the baby and mother both need help? Why be mad at all? Some women are abused and escape an abusive ex who were forcing abortion. Thankfully we did a little fundraiser, maybe four or five of us. This group was not organized. Felt more like a hangout at a church then a organization. Because this is the usa, gun violence was a topic we talked about. Surprised that a lot of girls were against guns and owning them in the house. A few liked them because they were from the country side. I lost family and friends to shootings so I don’t like any gun. But that older lady loved them and always blamed democrats on shootings. One time I was talking about moving to Europe like France to a girl because I want my future kids, either adopted or I have them naturally, to be safe in school and outside. That older lady overheard me and had to tell me that schools don’t owe me my child’s safety. Other people backed me up since the girls in this group mostly were older gen z/youngest millennials and we were raised on school shooting drills. The older woman got quiet and wanted to change the subject but we kept going. That lady had enough that day. When we finished our meet up, she asked me and only me, to leave because she didn’t think I “fit with the group’s dynamic.” I said fine and this woman looked shocked that I just left. I’m not to going beg for forgiveness or to stay. I did get some texts from a few girls I talked to there about what happened when I didn’t show up next time, so I let them know. One of those girls texted me “yeah that makes sense :( [group leader name] mentioned after you left one day how much she didn’t like wokeness in the group.” Asked her what she meant and this girl just said “yeah idk lol you know she’s old and that’s how she was raised! Don’t worry about it :) she still has a sweet heart”

That was a lot of unpack. I’ve since moved and moved on.

Oh boi, these "how did i get kicked out of my church/pro life group" stories always deliver and I'm so happy I made this post xD (of anyone reading this has any story, my inbox is open📨)

I think pro life/church women obsessed with virginity need to be studied. Like, borderline pedophilic obsession. Pedophile talking point is that children can consent to sex and are inherently sexual (hi Kinsey!), so this old lady arguing that young girl are at fault for being raped makes sense.

That Pearl grifter seems to be extremely obsessed with young virgin women. Probably because her body count is on double digit lol

And yeah, as a child born in France, the risk of school shooting is nonexistent lol We only do evacuation exercises for fire. I always said Americans were extremely politically stupid. I'm glad I'm from a country with a dozen of leftist party to grasp that leftist≠ communism.

"school don't owe children safety" is psychopathy but at least she's saying out loud what every pro gun (conservative) thinks ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

#answered

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cherryblossomforest · 1 year

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I came back to my drafts to add more to my last post only to realise it had been published, lol. On the topic of The Woman King and how I feel it relates to me as a black woman with trauma and DID.

Trigger warnings for sexual abuse with no details and parts related things.

I also wanted to talk about how, despite the fact that these women were warriors and fearless in battle, they were human too. General Nanisca struggled with nightmares, and after encountering one of her abusers she started having flashbacks and panic attacks. She didn't magically get better. She didn't magically forget. She was driven by fear and revenge, but she was also vulnerable too.

This made me feel seen. Like, yes, these women are the bravest of the brave, but they are still affected by past experiences. I'm glad they didn't try and depict them as just quickly moving past their trauma... but instead, they had to process it. Burying it doesn't work, and it wasn't something easy either. General Nanisca's close friend even encouraged her to tell her about a nightmare she was having, and this was 19 years after what happened. This is more realistic because abuse can affect people for decades. I think having this representation is so incredibly important for black women because we're often portrayed as just never needing a break, never being vulnerable or never needing help. Which is such a lie... the amount of pain we hold and continue to withstand often is the cause of our death.

This was something that my therapist also spoke to me about, as she is also a black woman. She sternly reminded me as a black woman not to go into spaces where help is readily available and act as if I do not need it or mask the amount I am suffering. To not allow others to dictate how much pain I am in, or try to tell me I am fine. I'm allowed to not be okay. I don't have to be the "strong independent black woman." The number of times I've been told I'm resilient, so I'll be fine, BY THERAPISTS! The number of times I've been denied painkillers BY DOCTORS, even when I was in hospital when I was 22. They said I was able to manage the pain, so I didn't need painkillers. Despite the fact that I couldn’t walk due to the pain in my abdomen.

My family friend collapsed at home, she is a black woman and she stopped breathing. Her son had to do cpr on her. If he was not there, she would have died. The hospital discharged her the same day, stating she'll be fine. So now I make an effort to allow myself to be vulnerable. To allow myself to be seen as not okay. The older generation of black women have drilled into my generation of black women to cry in these situations, to be seen as vulnerable, to be seen as struggling because otherwise we end up worse... or dying.

I also thought it was important that they showed Nanisca with the daughter she gave away and the pain that must come from that. She never intended to see her again, but when she found out that she was her daughter, she reassured her that despite how she came about, she was hers. That she was Agojie. Nawi, Nanisca's daughter, stated that she had the blood of a killer in her and that she was from someone who caused her mother so much pain. But Nanisca apologised for leaving her because she wasn't brave enough at the time. Nanisca reassured Nawi that she was not the thing that hurt her, and it wasn't Nawi's fault what had happened to her and that she was still her daughter. In the end, Nawi calls Nanisca mother, something that was shown as healing for both of them. Nanisca was not running away from her past anymore, and Nawi got the mother she would have dreamed of having.

In this instance, the shame that comes from being abused lingers. For us, there are parts that hold the shame from what happened. They try to make themselves small or they hide. They blame themselves and feel as if they are marked. This scene also felt so nice to watch because I often find myself trying to take that burden from these parts as Nanisca did with Nawi. I empathise with why these parts feel what they do but reassure them that it is not their fault. They are not the problem. They are a part of me, as I them. They do not need to be kept in the dark or stay in the dark because of the things that happened in secret. They do not deserve to carry these things alone. They never did. I'm always reminding them that it is not them that I find difficult to deal with but the trauma of what happened, and they are not the trauma that happened to them. They might be the result of our brain trying to cope, as am I, but they are not what happened... something happened to them. To us!

I try to create space between them and our trauma as much as I can. I remind them that, if they are able to, to put down as much of the trauma as they can. We have a room in the innerworld where we download memeories and store them away for later, which can be so helpful. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But all the same, I remind them that they are not the problem, they did not deserve the things that happened and they are not marked by what happened either. They do not have to feel ashamed no matter how much they feel they "contributed." Nothing they did is deserving of what happened.

I love the fact that this movie exists because although these women went through horrible things, they stick together. They state they are weaker apart and stronger together. This is also correct for us too. The more separated we are from each other, the more dissociated and disorganised we are, and the more we struggle and are affected by our trauma. The more we stick together and attempt to work together, the better we all end up feeling about ourselves and our lives. We aren't where we want to be, but we work better together than alone.

Another thing is that about a year ago, when Violet was in the innerworld trying to improve our safe houses, another part, who we think to be a gatekeeper, came out of the forest and started tampering with our safety shield which surrounds our safe houses. They were dressed in traditional West African clothing (I can't specify because we only got a glimpse), which caught us off guard a bit. I think that is what mostly caused our brain to shut down because they couldn't go through the shield, and that meant the gatekeepers had lost some control at the time. After that, we couldn't access the innerworld for months, and then when we could, the safety shield was completely gone, and our safe houses all messed up, and everyone was in the forests. That's when everyone began to feel far away, and since then, it hasn't been the same. I think next time we try to do anything, we have to try and at least attempt to get the gatekeepers on board. All now, I can't think of why they would be dressed in that clothing, but I know when I do figure it out, it'll make sense.

Our gatekeepers are extremely good at protecting us from past trauma. They are also very helpful if figuring out what would be best for us going forward. An example is our anorexia. When we fully realised that being malnourished and weak wasn't the answer to keeping us safe from being abused again and having more than one conversation with friends and family, our brain seemingly changed overnight. Our gatekeepers heard us. It was a big pill to swallow, but we realised that as a disabled woman who lives alone, we can not be weak. With that, Anabella disappeared. I can't tell you if she's dormant or just deep in the forest (I'm leaning more to the latter), but from then, we shifted. We are so much calmer about gaining weight. Whilst there are days we struggle, it is nowhere near like it was. At first, we started trying to work against our gatekeepers, but I'm realising that they do have the same goal as most of us. They are just higher up. They've worked in secret for so long, and they definitely give off General vibes, too. As if they are almost royalty and being in their presence is not allowed. As I'm typing this up, my brain is scrambling around to figure out what it could be that child me watched or read to create something like this, lol. Growing up, I was very much aware that black people were Kings and Queens back in Africa. I also am very vaguely remembering this book about a black girl who was a princess in her tribe back in Ghana. These memories feel so close yet so far. I need to find this book...

#shouting in the forest #note to cherry

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dont-call-me-baby-posts · 3 years

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Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Chapter 21

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Master List

Word Count: 15.6K

Warnings: Y'all know the drill at this point. 18+. Also, super brief mentions of dr*g use.

Summary: Y/N is a successful musician, trying to navigate the world of stardom along with her complicated feelings for her best friend, Harry.

Alternatively: The one with the Halloween Party.

A/N: ARE YOU FINALLY READY FOR THE HALLOWEEN PARTY???? BUCKLE UP!!!!!!!!!!!

I've been DYING to post this part for so long now. I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting for so long. "This is called edging".

PLEASE let me know what you think! Your messages are my favorite part of posting, so please lmk how you liked the chapter. LOVE YOU ALL!! <3

Chapter 21

“Do you want to come get ready over here?” You asked, leaning towards the mirror. Your phone was next to you, lost between all of the brushes and lipsticks and false eyelashes on the counter. Anders hummed thoughtfully through the speaker.

“I’m actually, uh, going out for a bit first.” Anders answered. You could hear his heavy footsteps moving around his apartment. “I’ll just meet you there.”

“Okay.” You answered simply.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased. It was lonely getting ready to go out by yourself. You knew having Anders here would be no replacement for Logan, but still you couldn’t help thinking something was better than nothing. You wanted to listen to the playlist Logan always played when she did her makeup. You wanted to hear her squeal with excitement over your outfit, defying physics as she jumped up and down in her heels. You’d see her soon enough, though, at the Halloween party. You told Anders again how glad you were that he was coming, feeling the familiar twinge of nervousness. It didn’t dull your excitement, though, eager to get out there again. And see Harry, of course.

Harry had been at a meeting all morning, and the few shorts hours that has passed since he left that morning felt like days. The last few days since he’d gotten home had been “off days”, meaning you two had only gotten out of bed to go pee or make something to eat. His hands had barely left your body at all, his fingertips tracing the curve of your spine as you laid on his chest, or twisting your hair like ribbons around his digits.

“I don’t want to go on tour.” You told him one morning. His head was laid on your chest, his eyes barely cracking open at the sound of your voice. You were twisting tiny braids into his hair, his breathing heavy against you. He hadn’t been sleeping well, he’d told you. He'd missed you too much. You knew he wasn’t exaggerating when his eyelids had fluttered closed at your touch, moments away from falling asleep.

“Why not?” He asked, kissing your bare chest right between your breasts as he lifted his head up to see you. “That’s your job.”

You knew he would say that. “I can’t be away from you for that long, H.” You whispered, dropping the tiny braid from your fingers. “I want us to stay like this.”

“Nothing will change, love.” He promised, leaning over your body to kiss your frown. You pouted against his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll talk to you every day.”

“That’s not enough.” You admitted. Harry smiled, trying to draw you out of the slump you were falling into. “Why can’t we just be normal people? We could get normal jobs and see each other every night when we get home. We could move to the suburbs.”

Harry giggled at your idea. “You’re too talented to be normal.”

He leaned up, kissing you again. You whined at him, still not satisfied with his answer but falling into the kiss anyway. His lips were slow and deliberate, hands tangled into your hair. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, then across the back of his neck. You wanted to freeze time, to stay here just like this forever. Nothing would ever top this.

You were both naked, as you had been the last few days, so it was hard to miss as Harry hardened against you. He wasn’t in a hurry though, tracing the curve of your stomach and across your breasts.

“I can’t believe how much I love you.” He whispered into your neck, placing slow, sweet kisses below your ear. His voice was so quiet it almost seemed like he was speaking to himself.

“I love you, too.”

You whispered it back against his hair. He’d gone slightly scruffy over the course of the last few days, the stubble he’d accumulated tickling your neck where it met your shoulder. He hummed happily into you.

“I love hearing you say that.” He told you, placing a firmer kiss on your mouth. “I love you.” He repeated over and over again, his lips meeting yours between each confession.

There was something about the way the light spread through the bedroom that made everything feel like a dream. The soft white light coming in through the curtains painted everything in a lovely kind of tone, the bedsheets somehow whiter, Harry’s eyes even brighter when they met yours. Sunlight kissed his skin everywhere, the way you always longed to.

“You think we’ll be together forever?” You asked him, distracted by the way the light bounced off each of his curls. You hadn’t let yourself think much about it but you were so desperately in love in that very moment that you couldn’t push away the thought that either you’d stay together forever or eventually break up.

“Forever, sunflower.” He swore. He pressed a kiss to your temple to seal his oath. He shifted his weight, pressing his member against your opening. You shivered, both from his words and from the contact. He looked at you, gauging your reaction before pushing himself inside of you. His movements were like his kisses, slow and sweet. You believed him that you’d be together forever. There was nothing that could come between this. Nothing.

“Harry…” You breathed, deciding not to break the gentle quiet that had filled the room. He breathed against your neck, placing more kisses along your collarbone.

“You know,” he said, not bothering to lift his head, “When we get old we can move somewhere far away. We can buy a farm.”

He couldn’t see you, but he must have sensed the smile on your face as he continued.

“No one could ever bother us. And we’d have little kids running around, too. We could plant parsley and flower.”

“And you could bake bread.” You added. He pressed into you again, making you suck in a breath. It wasn’t the usual conversation you’d have during a moment like this, but in the lazy morning light it seemed perfect. Everything was perfect. You dragged your nails softly across Harry’s back, making his skin prickle with goosebumps.

“And we would be married.” He added thoughtlessly, continuing his slow movements.

“What?” You asked, your hand stilling. Harry lifted his head, looking down at you. He smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to be married?” He asked. His movements had stilled, too, both of you just enjoying the view of the other person for a few golden seconds.

“Of course I do.”

“To me?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“We’ll I wouldn’t do it while I was inside of you. I’d do something more… spectacular.”

“Well, my answer is still yes. To you.”

“Someday.”

“Someday.” You repeated. He nuzzled into your neck, peppering your skin there with kisses again.

“You’re embarrassing me again.” You giggled, “You really mean it?”

“A million times.” He promised. You smiled, feeling goofy and bashful and small. You imagined it, indulging yourself in the fantasy of you walking down the aisle towards him. Your mom would be so happy. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to anyone, you’d always been the little girl who spent so many hours imagining her perfect day, stopping only recently when love seemed too far out of reach in the blistering heat of LA.

Your voice was clingy and pathetic when it came out again. “Kiss me.”

He did, this time with a bit more urgency. You mumbled to him that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You felt him enter you again, his teeth coming down on your lower lip. You could tell he was using every ounce of his willpower to press into you slowly, wanting this tender moment to last as long as possible. But once you bucked your hips into him his resolve broke, giving in to you in the most helpless way. Your arms clung onto each other, memorizing each part of their partner. Harry’s skin was dewy with sweat, feeling cold against your touch where his back wasn't covered by your duvet. The last few days had been filled with many moments like this, but not anything as sweet or as loving and pure. This was different, unlike any moment Harry had ever given you before.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned, making your heart pitter patter a bit quicker. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

“All yours, H. All yours.”

“All mine.” He agreed, his movements picking up speed. “Just for me..”

You picked up your legs, wrapping them around Harry’s waist. Your hands fell to the sides of your head, Harry quick to press your wrists under his weight as he held himself over you. The moment lasted for lifetimes, the two of you inseparable in every single way. His movements stayed at a steady pace for a long time, Harry kissing every inch of your skin that was within his reach. You both whispered all of the things that came easily into your minds about the forever you'd have together. You giggled into your kisses, both of you giddy and lovely and high on one another.

You let out a soft whine, Harry lifting himself just enough to glance down at your body under him. His mouth fell open in that cute, perfect way it always did, his brows furrowing. Usually when he was close he would ask you to look at him, or utter something dirty in your ear. This time, though, he lowered his mouth onto yours, kissing you as if he’d only ever lived to kiss you. He pulled out, using his hand to finish onto the soft of your tummy. You could have melted at the way your name fell from his mouth, warmth spreading across your abdomen. He quickly grabbed a tissue as your eyes fluttered closed, wiping your stomach clean.

“You’re so pretty,” He admired, your eyes fluttering open to find him sitting up over you. His finger tips kissed your skin, beginning at your sternum and traveling down to your naval. “Such a good girl.”

“I like it when you call me that.”

His eyes moved quickly up to yours at your admission, a smile bubbling up across his face. He didn’t say anything, his gaze moving across your features before moving back down to your body under him.

“What does my pretty girl want?” He asked, his hands teasing the inside of your thighs. You were quick to answer, telling him it was him you wanted. Only him. “You can have me.” He promised.

///

“Y/N?” Anders voice rang out, tearing you away from the memory. You flinched, dropping the tube of lipstick you had been absentmindedly running across your mouth. “I said I have to go. But I’ll see you tonight?”

“Deal.” You agreed, blinking until the image of you and Harry blurred slightly from your mind. You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on your task

“Thanks. For everything.” Anders said quickly, his voice soft. The conversation had started not too long ago, Anders calling you saying he “needed someone to talk to.” You hadn’t talked about anything in particular, so you weren’t exactly sure how much you’d helped. Still, you smiled.

You tried to assure him, positive you hadn’t done anything worth being thanked over. “Don’t have to thank me.”

“I feel like I do, though.” He explained. “You’ve, uh, you’ve really helped me out a lot lately. I.. I appreciate it.”

You could tell he was embarrassed, but it was too important to him to leave these things unsaid. He had been there for you when you needed him, so of course you wanted to do that same.

“You’re my friend, Anders. And all I did was bother you and clean your apartment.”

“Well I still appreciate it.”

You set down your tube of lipstick as Anders said his goodbye. You stopped him right before he hung up, though, deciding to be brave and say those things you didn’t want left unsaid like he had.

“Anders, you know you can… talk to me about stuff. Right?”

“Sure.”

“No, like…” You paused, trying to navigate your next few words carefully. “I mean you can tell me about how you’re doing. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but I can tell you’re having a… hard time right now and I want to help. If I can.”

He laughed the same way he always did when you tried this line of questioning.

“I’m good.” He insisted. “I would tell you if I wasn’t. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Byyyyye.”

“Byyyyyyyyyye.”

You hoped he meant what he said.

///

Rachel’s house was probably the biggest that you had been to, ever. She came from a very rich, very famous family, so you weren’t exactly surprised. You had never been here before but it suddenly made sense to you why Logan was always here. There were men in suits walking around outside, waiting to let people inside. One of them offered to take your coat, which you hesitantly handed off to him. Another man in a bowtie offered you a glass of champagne. It was kind of overwhelming, being surrounded by so many people all tripping over themselves to serve you. It made you uncomfortable, the way they were waiting on you. You were more than happy to hang your own coat, or pour your own drink. You didn’t want to be rude, though, thanking them for their help as you stepped inside.

The plan was simple, and set in stone. You would arrive now, find Logan somewhere inside. You would take a few pictures to post online (Bethany was begging you to be more active on Instagram), and Harry would arrive exactly 35 minutes after you. The rule was that you couldn’t arrive or leave at the same time. It didn’t matter what you did while you were inside, really, since there wouldn’t be any paparazzi in the mansion taking photos. There was an unspoken rule in this strange world; you minded your own business, and everyone else would mind theirs. It didn’t matter what they saw, as long as there was an understanding between you that you hadn’t seen anything, either. Obviously, it was still prohibited by the label for you and Harry to ‘engage’ in any way while you were there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t dance and talk and be a couple in almost every other way. Everyone knew someone who knew someone, which meant someone here knew her. It was better for everyone that things stayed quiet, at least a while longer.

The sequins on your jacket felt slightly itchy as you tried to navigate your way through the house. You, Harry, Logan, and Rachel had decided on wearing matching costumes this year from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. You were Columbia, Harry being your Frank N’ Furter. (The irony of this wasn’t lost on you, Columbia being the obsessive fan of Frank in the movie who bends to his every whim). Logan was Riff Raff, which was hysterical, and Rachel was Magenta. You couldn’t help being a little bit jealous of how close they had gotten, dressing as the iconic sibling duo from the movie and spending so much time together while you were with Harry. In fairness, though, that was exactly what had happened. You had spent so much time with Harry that it wasn’t fair for you to expect Logan to just wait around and not hang out with anyone else. You really didn’t mind them being friends, you just hoped that you wouldn’t end up being replaced. Harry could never replace Logan. There was a clear distinction between the two of them, for obvious reasons. Regardless, you continued, clutching your glass so that it wouldn’t spill on anyone as you searched for Logan.

You spotted them, finally, running up to them. They let out little excited screams, Rachel welcoming you to her home and thanking you for coming.

“It’s about time you finally came over!” Rachel yelled, holding you. She was stunning, her hair pulled into tight, messy curls. She was wearing a maid outfit, the same one Magenta wore in Rocky, and with torn, distressed fishnets.

“Thank you for inviting me!” You responded, hugging her again. “I’m so excited!”

“Of course I invited you.” She said, smiling. “You’re Logan’s best friend. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You thought you could see Logan blush, but the heavy makeup on her face made it hard to tell. Logan was wearing a suit, her long blond hair slicked back away from her face. Her character Riff Raff was probably the most unappealing, nasty character in the movie, and yet she was somehow able to pull it off and make it look glamorous. She had heavy eyeshadow around her eyes and a dark contour, making her appear both gaunt and beautiful at the same time. You almost grinned at the irony, Logan's character being overwhelmed with jealousy in the movie when that was all you could feel as you looked at her. Riff Raff was always cast aside and forgotten, and his feelings of inadequacy were manifesting inside of you instead of her as you all hugged and said hellos, your chest feeling tight and hot. Logan leaned into you, her lips almost touching your ear as she whispered.

“Harry should be here any minute, right? Did you see his costume yet?”

You shook your head. “Yeah, he’s on his way now. But he wouldn’t let me see the fit, yet. He’s had it hidden in his closet for a week now ‘cuz it's a surprise’.”

You all enjoyed casual conversation, your eyes scanning the room every few seconds to see if Harry had arrived yet. You were working on your second glass of champagne now, trying to pace yourself but your excited nerves egging you on to drink more, more, more. Rachel had someone (A friend? An employee?) come over to take some photos of the three of you. You felt glamorous, even posing next to these two perfect bodies. You were wearing a corset, which was pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. It was covered in tiny gems and stones and was covered by a short, golden jacket. You wore tight black shorts and tights with sparkly silver heels. You, of course, also had on the iconic red bow tie that went with Columbia’s look. You looked outrageous and gaudy, but it was for some strange reason the most beautiful you had felt in ages. It was such a nice feeling, becoming someone totally different who could look and act however they wanted. Instead of playing the character you were forced to everyday of your life, you got to play someone new.

Rachel scrolled through the pictures on her phone, each of you ooh-ing and ahh-ing at how incredible they turned out. Note to self, you thought, you needed to hire whoever these models were using to take their pictures, for every occasion. You made small talk with everyone, your blood already starting to become tainted by alcohol, your words coming out easily instead of discombobulated and nervous. There were so many celebrities here that you had never met before that you couldn’t even think of approaching. It made your heart pound, seeing these icons in the flesh having perfectly normal conversations with their friends.

You could hear a laugh, somewhere not too far away, which caught your attention. You excused yourself, finding Harry in the crowd easily. You yelled his name, running over to him before jumping into his arms. The corset made it hard to grab on but you tried your best as Harry lifted you in a hug. He set you down, his eyes already sparkling the way they always did when he was surrounded by people. Unlike you, he thrived in environments like this. He loved the attention, the compliments from strangers, the glances from across the room. He was more himself than ever when he was enjoying eyes on him like this. It was more of a performance for him, parties like this, Harry usually shy but easily flipping the switch when he felt comfortable. You, on the other hand, would normally turn into yourself in moments like these, wanting to become small and invisible. But that’s what the drinks were for. To make you want to take up space.

You took in Harry’s costume in front of you, your eyes pinching in laughter immediately. Your stomach hurt straining against the corset from laughing so hard.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, gesturing to himself. He had a broad smile across his face. He had on the seafoam green surgical gown from the movie, with a pair of black fishnets underneath. He had on his infamous pearl necklace and a pair of perfectly shiny and perfectly pointed black heels. On his face, he had a brushing of black eyeshadow, a deep red lipstick painted across his perfect mouth. He looked incredible. He was handsome and beautiful and everything else in between.

“I love it.” You told him, your cheeks already sore from smiling so much. You wanted to lean up on your tippy toes to kiss him, his face even further away from yours than normal thanks to the few extra inches his shoes granted him. You resisted, though, instead just telling him with your eyes everything that you wanted to do.

You both found Logan and Rachel, the girls screaming over Harry’s outfit. You took more pictures, Harry on one end next to Logan and you on the other next to Rachel. His hand found yours behind their backs, his fingers brushing yours.

The night went on, the discreet glances turning into discreet touches on the leg, arms around your shoulder, hands brushing hair away from faces. You were conscious of those around you, knowing that anyone and everyone could be taking a picture you just happened to be in the background of.

“Who cares?” Harry whispered to you when you attempted to brush his hand away from your cheek. “No one can prove anything. It’s not like I’m kissing you or anything.”

“Bethany will kill me, Harry.” You said, but you were already convinced by him even as you protested. At least you could say that you did your best to seem unassuming. And he was right, anyway. Even if these ended up online, no one would have any more proof of anything than they did before. Everyone had already made up their minds one way or another about the two of you. Why not give them a little bit more to talk about?

Also, you had always been like this with him. Even before you were together, you had always held hands and sat close to one another. It would be more suspicious, you tried to rationalize, if you suddenly stopped doing those things.

Harry had had enough champagne to send you to the ER as hours passed, though in fairness you were a little bit of a light weight. There was nothing else to drink here, but Harry didn’t let that damper his good time. The only problem was, every time he went to get himself another glass, he came back with two in his hands. One for you for each that he had. You were trying your best to keep up, but you could feel the room spinning around you no matter how still you tried to stand.

Harry slipped away a few times, chatting with any and everyone. You weren't annoyed as you watched him work the room, instead feeling your chest sweet with pride. He was really yours. All yours. Whether the world knew it or not. You got the nerve to make your way around the party, as well, anytime Harry left you for a few brief moments. Logan kept an eye on you, making sure you weren't left alone. It felt like old times again, the two of you gripping onto each other's arms as you shuffled toward the bathroom. You giggled excitedly into each others ears when you spotted Timothee walk in, dancing hand in hand when another one of "your songs" came on (not a song you released, but a song you both had claimed as belonging to the pair of you, usually all the way back before fame and LA seemed anything like a reality). Rachel was a wonderful hostess, greeting everyone as they entered, never staying in one place for too long. You were selfishly grateful for that, having your best friend all to yourself.

"I've missed this." You told Logan, drunken honesty finding it's way into the bathroom with the two of you. Logan threw her head back in laughter, standing to pull her pants back onto his tiny waist.

"You miss watching me pee?" She asked, washing her hands. Her eyes shimmered at you through the mirror. She was doing better than ever, you could tell. She looked radiant and confident and like she belonged in a city like this.

"Yes." You said with a giggle, slumping down the door to sit on the floor. Your feet were starting to ache from your shoes, the cool tiles feeling good against your hot skin. "I miss this. I miss hanging out with you."

"I miss it too." She promised, her normal sing-song voice sounding the same as it always had before if not a little bit more polished. She pulled you to stand, pressing a wet, lipstick stained kiss to your cheek. "I'm sorry I've been so busy. I just- I have something going on and I haven't had the right time to tell you-"

There was a bang on the door, making you both jump. You buckled over with giggles as you wiped happy tears from your eyes, both of you apparently finding everything hysterical tonight. A voice came from outside asking you to hurry.

"It's like he doesn't know there's, like, 40 bathrooms in this house..." Logan mumbled. She flatted the front of her jacket, checking her hair in the mirror.

You followed her out back into the party, an angry party-goer preparing to tell you both off before his eyes landed on your face. Nothing to say now? You wanted to ask him, raising a famous eyebrow at him while offering a smug, famous smile.

"Hey, what were you saying before?" You asked Logan, voice strained over the sound of the music.

"Huh?"

"In the bathroom. What were you saying?" You asked again. Her face flickered with panic, a nervous laugh slipping out as a defense.

"Oh." She looked around her, finding Rachel gesturing for her from across the room. Her shoulders relaxed, realizing she had an out of the conversation. "I'll tell you later? Now's not really a... good time."

"Okay." You said, but she was already skipping away.

///

“Y/N! Hey!” You heard a voice call. You were wobbling passed the kitchen, a new drink in hand. You squinted your eyes to find where the sound had come from, trying to sharpen the fuzzy images around you. You saw Anders walking towards you, waving both of his hands up in the air. He looked happy to see you. No, he looked relieved. You rushed (sloppily) to meet him, Harry glancing away from his conversation with Logan and Rachel across the room to see where you were going. You ran to Anders, feeling drunk and excited, wrapping him in a warm hug. It felt strange to hold him like this, both of you usually hyperaware of any and all physical contact since you'd started hanging out. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hug him, it was just… a silent agreement you’d made once the boundaries of your relationship had been set. It was like each of you wanted to make it clear to the other that there was nothing romantic going on, settling on fist bumps and high fives most of the time. Things friends do. But you were drunk and happy and you missed him, not even thinking twice before pressing your face into his chest. He flinched, hands hovering over you for a moment before hesitantly patting you on the back like an absent father you never hugged growing up. You pulled away, smiling broadly, breathing a sigh of relief. He looked good tonight, and not in a weird way, but he looked okay. He looked better. He was dressed as Kylo Ren from Star Wars, minus the helmet.

“I love the costume!” You yelled over the music.

“Thanks! Yours is… great!” He said, a confused look passing over his face for a moment as he took it all in. “What is it?”

“It’s from a movie.” You slurred, smiling. He nodded.

“Well it’s cool as fuck.” He said, looking over your shoulder at the rest of your friends. He caught Rachel’s eye, waving excitedly. “How’s it, uh, going?”

“Goooooood,” You sang, following Anders' gaze over your shoulder. Harry had returned to his conversation, but you caught him throwing a concerned look in your direction. His eyes narrowed, only for a second, before pinching closed at something Logan was saying. “I’m drunk.” You told Anders.

“You don’t say?” He teased, a waiter stopping by at that exact moment to offer him a glass. He accepted, looking back and forth between the waiter and you as if asking if you felt weird about them too. You did, you told him silently, widening your eyes as they walked away. He took a sip, grimacing at the taste.

“They don’t have beer.” You told him, that being the only thing you’d ever seen him drink. He shrugged, forcing another gulp down his throat.

“It’ll have to do.” He decided, throwing the rest of the glass back like a shot. He coughed, sticking his tongue out. “I’m so fucking nervous, dude.”

You pushed him lightly on the shoulder, which felt awkward and stiff but seemed like a good idea in your head. “Don’t be. You wanna come over here with us?”

“You’re boyfriend's gonna kill me.”

“That would be a great headline, don’t you think?”

“You’re funny.” Anders said flatly, the corner of his mouth turning up after a beat had passed.

“You’re making it weird. It’s not like he has any reason to be mad at you, anyway. We’re… bros.”

You couldn’t helped thinking you were hilarious, covering your mouth with a hand to cover your giggle. Anders thought for a moment, gesturing at one of the staff members for another glass before throwing the entire thing back in one go.

“Lead the way, bro.” Anders said, patting you firmly on the back like an old highschool buddy.

You brought him over to where you’d all been talking, steadying yourself on your heels as you took your place next to Harry. You felt Harry’s arm snake around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. His fingers pressed into your side, enough that you could feel it through your corset. You let out a yelp, grabbing onto Harry’s shoulder as he pulled you so that you wouldn’t tip over. He smiled down at you before kissing you on your face, almost right on the mouth.

“What’s the matter with you!” You scoffed, giggling as you nudged him away. Anders was catching up with Logan and Rachel, giving the two of you a moment as he told the girlies all about the tour he had planned for the beginning of the following year. Harry hadn’t even noticed him walk up with you, it seemed like.

“Just wanted to kiss ya.” He said like it was obvious. His face started to get that soft pink color, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. You liked the way his lips moved when he was drunk, just a little bit slower than usual.

“Not here.” You reminded him gently. He threw his head back, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“Harry, it’s so nice to see you man!” Anders said, turning his attention to the two of you once you were done canoodling. Harry looked at him, an expression you couldn’t read flashing across his face. His brow furrowed, and you could see the moment of realization written across his perfect features as he recognized the man he’d found you kissing not too long ago. He pursed his lips, smiling tightly. Anders wasn’t suppressing his emotions quite as well, his face ghostly and sunken as he nervously waited for Harry’s reaction. Harry smiled politely, giving him a friendly (and short) hello. He turned back to face you, dismissing Anders completely, his body turning between the two of you as if to block you from Anders' sight. You cringed internally at his greeting, gritting your teeth as you forced yourself to speak.

“You remember Anders, don’t you?” You asked, wrapping your hands around Harry’s waist. You were hoping the soft touches and puppy dog eyes would soften whatever blow was coming, even leaning up to kiss Harry gently on the cheek. Almost as soon as the words left your mouth, though, Harry pressed you away softly, grabbing you by the shoulders. His brows were completely pinched now, looking between you and the man behind him.

“You’re Anders?” Harry asked, almost in disbelief. He pointed a finger towards your friend, a sinister chuckle leaving Harry’s perfect lips as Anders nodded silently.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He didn’t even remember his name? This entire time? It wasn’t lost on you the pieces Harry must be putting together now, realizing the true identity of the person you’d spent almost the entirety of the last week with. He’d been so understanding about it, not even thinking twice when you’d told him over and over again… If Harry’s tightly crossed arms were any indication, that gentle understanding was dead and gone.

“We met a while back..” Anders began, Harry’s stare making him uncomfortable. Harry smiled, nodding his head. He put up a hand, subconsciously blocking himself from the memory of the two of you together.

“I remember.” Harry said. You could tell he wasn't trying to be rude but his tone was sharp, telling Anders (unintentionally) it was time to stop talking. Harry’s grip tightened even more around you. “It’s so, so great to see you again.”

With that, Harry began walking away after a quick handshake and pat on Anders' shoulder. He smiled, more pleasantly this time, before dismissing himself. He easily dragged you by the wrist behind him, his large hands encompassing the daintiest portion of your arm. You were barely able to keep up, stumbling behind him. You chanced a look over your shoulder, Anders mouthing something that looked like ‘I told you so!’ as you were whisked away. You were bumping into everyone, mumbling apologies under your breath as Harry led you into a hallway. You walked for a while before Harry pulled you into a bathroom, a different one than the one you'd been interrupted in with Logan.

He didn’t say anything, releasing your arm and twisting the bathroom lock once you were inside. Ordinarily that would be a good sign, but the look on Harry’s face indicated otherwise. He was fuming, his arms raising to cross against his chest again. He was trying not to seem upset but it was all too easy for you to tell what he was thinking. You looked at him, confused and horrified and scared. Things had been going so well with you two, and you’d done everything right this time. You told him where you were. You didn’t lie. There were no more secrets. Even still, Harry gazed down at you expectantly, awaiting your explanation.

“What’s wrong?” You asked drunkenly, feeling sick from moving so quickly. You decided playing dumb would be the best strategy for now, letting Harry say what he wanted too before you dug yourself any deeper. Harry lifted his hands to his hair, raking his finger through the curls.

“That’s Anders?” He asked. He was mad, but his drunken state made him just look silly. You furrowed your brows at him.

“Yeah… you met him before. I figured you remembered.”

“So that’s who you were out at lunch with?”

“I told you who I was with...”

“Who you spent every night with while I was gone?”

“I didn’t spend the night..” You defended, pausing long enough to mimic Harry’s actions by running a hand through your hair. “You literally met him before! I don’t get what the issue is!”

“Yeah but I didn’t realize-“ Harry paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just didn’t realize that was him.”

You were tempted to apologize, but decided against it. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t remember, and you’d been honest with him from the start about who you were with.

“So what’s going on with him, then?” Harry asked into the quiet of the bathroom. He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there something going on there? Because last time I saw him you were practically all over him, and now you’re going out for lunch? Spending every day at his apartment?”

You took a step back from him, seconds away from rolling your eyes.

“There’s nothing going on, Harry. He’s my friend.”

“Since when?”

“What do you mean since when? He’s just my friend, Harry. I’m allowed to have friends aren’t I?”

He didn’t respond. He took a deep breath. He was being patient with you, as much as he could be, and you knew you were being hard on him. You decided to back off a bit, copying Harry again by taking a deep breath before trying your best to put his mind at ease.

“There’s nothing going on. I told him already that it wasn’t going to happen, and he knows that.” You started explaining yourself, your cheeks reddening with frustration and guilt and embarrassment. “He never tried anything. He’s just a friend, Harry. It’s not like I had anyone else to spend time with...”

“Okay.” Harry said when your voice trailed off. “I get it.”

“Okay.” You agreed, slightly miffed but glad he was being understanding. But he held up a finger, cocking his head to the side before you could say anything else.

“I just don’t know how I feel about it, Y/N… I- I don’t like it.”

Your hands met Harry jaw as he spoke, wondering if maybe your touch could be enough to make him lose his train of thought. You leaned up, pressing your mouth against his. He allowed it, only cutting you off when you tried to deepen the kiss. “Stop.” He said, his voice like a slap in the face. He turned his chin away from you, just out of your reach. You backed away, throwing your hands up, trying not to show how your feelings were hurt by his dismissal.

“So you just want me to, what? Never speak to him again? He’s my best friend, Harry.”

You wobbled on your feet slightly, trying to seem stern but struggling to even stand upright. Harry signed, deciding to let it go.

“I guess not.” He answered. His mouth was still pressed in a tight line. He brought you to his chest, holding you against him firmly.

You both stood there, wrapped around each other, in awkward, drunken silence for a few seconds before a giggle rose from your throat.

“You look so funny when you’re mad.” You told him, holding his face between your hands. His eyes softened a bit, leaning forward to kiss your nose.

“I’m not mad.” He insisted, his voice still slightly grumpy. He tried not to smile as you stood there watching him, his mouth twitching as he tugged the corners down.

“Good.”

You tried to reach his face, standing on your tippy toes on your heels to kiss him again. He was too weak to resist this time, instantly leaning into you. Good, you thought. It’s over. His hands were on you within seconds, his kisses drunken and lustful and champagne flavored. You reached around his neck to untie the surgical gown he was wearing, letting it fall to the floor. Before he had a chance to try to unhook your corset you fell to your knees in front of him, tugging his underwear and pantyhose down his thighs as you went.

He let it happen, not daring to protest your desperate actions in his drunken state. His breathing was already heavy, making you feel warmer in the small space of the bathroom. You realized you hadn’t exactly thought this through, a lump forming in your throat at the sight of his girth before you. He was hard already, his cock springing up to meet your gaze. Harry’s hands gripped the sink behind him, the veins popping out under the skin of his forearms. You looked up at him, just for a second, instantly feeling more nervous than before when you found his eyes trained on you. You just knelt there on the floor, your chest heaving, begging your arms or your mouth to make the next move. You looked up at Harry again, who reached down to brush your cheek. As if reading your mind, he raised you by your chin, bringing you to kiss him again.

“Maybe we can just go back to the party.” He offered sweetly, brushing the hair out of your reddened face. You shook your head.

“No I… I wanna.”

“You want to what?” He asked, a cheeky expression on his face. You swallowed hard. You were grateful for Harry’s hands on you, keeping you steady on your feet.

“Make you feel good.” You answered him. Make you forget, you corrected to only yourself. He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. Your mouth felt dry, threatening to stop the words before they even came out.

“You don’t have to do that.” He promised, and you knew he meant it. But the aching you felt between your thighs said otherwise. It was like when you were with him you were no longer in control of what your mind or body did. You were helpless, unable to stop your knees from buckling before him. You'd been itching to touch him all night, too, and you were finally alone. You weren't willing to pass this moment up.

Instead of answering, you fell to the ground again, your knees making a soft thud sound when they hit the tile of the floor. Even standing on your knees like this, you could feel your thighs shaking, struggling to hold your body up as you gazed at his form. He was perfect. The tattoos that etched their way across his abdomen, the way his fishnets clung around his knees where you had left them. The black eyeshadow, smudging slightly as the hours had passed, it all made him even sexier than he ever had been before. Or maybe it was the champagne. Either way, the look he gave you as your eyes searched his face, combined with the way his thumb gently brushed your lips before pressing into your mouth, gave you the courage to lean forward, taking his length into his mouth. His head was immediately thrown back, resting against the mirror behind him. He cursed under his breath as your tongue slid around him, his eyes pinching closed in pleasure. You moved your head slightly faster, still taking your time to savor him. Harry let out another low grunt, his fingers tangling into your hair roughly. The feeling made you moan around him, his hips bucking forward at the sound.

“‘M gonna help you, okay?” He said, his voice thin and breathless. You pulled away from him, confused, your lips messy and glistening. You could see the red of your lipstick transferred onto his dick, which for some reason made your stomach tighten even more. You opened your mouth to speak, unsure where Harry was going with this, when he quickly used the hand already tangled into your hair to bring your mouth back around him.

“Don’t- fuck. Don’t stop.” He huffed. You didn’t need convincing, your mouth continuing its movements around him. “But we have to be fast, yeah? ‘M just gonna move your head a bit, okay sunflower?”

You nodded, as best you could, humming an agreement. You could feel your stomach tense in anticipation, your mind filling with all kinds of dirty thoughts. Harry removed his fingers from your hair, readjusting his grip so that it was firmer, his fingers securely weaved between the strands.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” He asked you. Your eyes flickered up to him, all you were able to do to agree being a soft blink of your eyes. “Good girl.” He hummed dreamily.

Harry’s hand pushed against the back of your head, sliding you further onto him, nearly all the way, before sharply pulling back. Oh. He repeated the action, your movements along his shaft no longer voluntary as he used your mouth. He sped up, his movements quicker and more firm than you were used to, making you gag around him slightly. You were taking him in further than you ever had before, his hips pressing themselves into you as his hand moved your head.

“Fuck.” He breathed, his free hand still gripping the counter behind him, knuckles white. His head no longer rested against the mirror, instead leaning down to watch as he pleasured himself with your mouth. His movements had little regard for your comfort as he fucked into you, his eyebrows pinching as his mouth fell open in awe.

“Such a good girl for me,” He mused, knowing you liked his words of encouragement. He tried his best to keep his voice soft and sweet even as the moment intensified. “You okay? You alright?”

You hummed around him again, earning a dazed smile from the man in front of you. He whispered a soft “good” before continuing. His curls fell onto his forehead into his eyes.

You could feel him twitching after a few minutes, a tell tale sign that he was close to the edge if the sloppy movement of his hips hadn’t given him away already. You moaned, eager to please him. You wanted to taste him, all of him, the memory of that night in your bedroom back home not too long ago fresh in your mind. You had thought about it countless times since then, normally while Harry was away and you were left to your own devices in the cocoon of your bed. You moaned again at the memory, your thighs stiffening.

“You like that, sunflower?” He egged you on, wanting to earn another sound like the one you’d just made. You gave it to him, unconsciously, the dirty words falling from his lips resting on your shoulders and making your body feel weak and soft. “You like when I fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?”

Another moan around him, his grip on your hair pulling even tighter. It was easy to ignore the sting of your scalp as you found his eyes.

“Should’ve known you would…” He continued, “You're always so good to me, hm? Taking me so well…” Your eyes fluttered closed, watering slightly, your jaw feeling tense and sore even as the rest of your body was overcome with the feeling of Harry inside you. “Look at me, love.”

You did, fluttering your eyelashes at him. His eyes rolled back at the sight of you before pinching closed, almost instantly, his head following suit as it fell again against the mirror. You could tell this was it, the way his body stiffened in front of you. You encouraged him with soft sounds as he finished, his length pushing all the way into your throat. You swallowed around him gratefully, his hold on your hair eventually loosening and allowing you to pull away. You wiped the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand as Harry pulled his tights back up his legs. You clung onto him as you stood, Harry pulling you roughly in for a kiss.

“Was that okay?” He asked into the mess of the kiss, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

He pulled away, just a fraction, to find your eyes. You smiled back at him dreamily, unphased and more than okay as you stared back at him. You leaned back into the kiss, not ready to let him slip away just yet.

“That was amazing.” You assured him, his lips catching between yours as you tried to speak. “So hot.”

“You’re filthy.” He chuckled against you. His hand fell from your face, dropping between your legs. His fingers brushed you over your shorts, your breath catching in your throat at the contact.

“Only for you.” You promised him, the memory of your little spat over Anders still looming over you. There would never be anyone else. Harry never had any reason to worry about anyone, ever. All you wanted was him, over and over and over. Harry’s free arm tightened around you as your legs threatened to give out, his touch moving achingingly slow. He pressed more firmly against you, his fingers creating circles around your throbbing center.

“Only for me, hm?” You could feel his smile pressed against your mouth as you nodded. “You did so good f’me, sunflower. So wet already just having me in your mouth. I can feel it through your shorts.”

A moan fell from your lips as Harry pulled his mouth away from you. His eyes raked up and down your body, still fully clothed, before scanning your face.

“So pretty…” He mused, kissing your cheek once before watching your expression change again as he sped up his movements. “Bet I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? Don’t even have to touch you..”

“Please…” You whined, knowing he was right but wanting to feel his hands against your skin. He relented, dipping his hands into your shorts and under your tights. He found his place again quickly, resuming his movements as you let out a sign of his name. Your head fell into his chest, his free hand coming up to stroke the back of your hair oh-so tenderly. His movements were gentle and soft, unlike they had been just a few moments earlier.

“I should take you home right now and fuck you, I think.” He wondered allowed into your hair, practically whispering, his lips pressing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. “Think you deserve it, letting me use your mouth like that. Letting me do whatever I want with you...”

Your stomach dropped, the pent up frustration you’d been trying to quell as you tasted him coming to a head. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, warning you of the approaching orgasm. You wrapped your arms tightly around Harry’s waist, his bare torso giving you nothing to clutch onto. You swore you could feel Harry’s mouth form a smile against your hair, him knowing fully well what was coming.

“You..” You tried to say, pressing a kiss to Harry’s chest as you tried to form the words. “You can do… anything....” You had to pause again, clinging desperately onto Harry. “Anything you want to me.”

“That’s a pretty bold offer.” His voice came from above you, a small chuckle following his words. “I would barely know where to start…”

“H-” You were barely able to say as your chest tightened. “I’m gonna-”

“I got you,” He assured you sweetly, his arms still firmly holding you up. “Cum for me.”

You writhed under his touch, coming completely undone before him. The hand that had been stroking the back of your head came around to cover your mouth and it took everything in you not to sink your teeth into his soft palm as you came. Instead, you pressed a desperate, wet kiss to his fingers in an effort to keep yourself quiet. You whined helplessly as his fingers continued before finally coming to a halt. He removed his hand from his shorts, bringing your face up to kiss him once more.

“Good job.” He praised, a wicked smile on his face. His fingers, still slick, rubbed against your lips. “Open.” He commanded, your jaw falling slack again without a moment of hesitation. You felt the slightest pinch of pain as your mouth opened for him, still sore. He pressed his two fingers into your mouth, pointer and middle, using his free hand to push your mouth closed around them. Your tongue lapped up your own taste from between the two digits, Harry placing the gentlest of kisses against your forehead as you did so. He pulled his hand away, cupping your face. You felt dreamy and drunk and happy as you looked at him, satisfied for the moment. Harry’s thumbs brushed over your cheeks lightly, your skin feeling tingly and sensitive under his touch.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked again, his voice unclouded by lust this time around. His eyes were turned down in concern, his mouth forming the subtlest of frowns.

“No.” You promised, embarrassment an undercurrent beneath your voice. You had never done anything like that with someone, ever. You could only hope it was half as good as what Harry was used to. “I liked it.” You added shyly as an afterthought.

“You’re so hot.” He said, his face breaking open in a smile. “Best I ever had. You did so good.”

“Really?” You asked him, wanting his praise to continue just a little bit longer. You liked the way his tiny affirmations felt against you, warming you in every corner. He nodded.

“You were amazing.” He insisted. “Still think I should take you home, though. Feel like I owe you a reward for your hard work.”

You swallowed again, amazed by how quickly he could heat your body with his words even so soon after you’d gone over the edge. You hadn't even fully recovered yet. You nodded, trying not to look too eager.

“You’d like that?” Harry pushed further, never giving up the chance to hear you whine and beg and plead for him. He was cocky like that, loving the way you were so helpless to resist him. “I was thinking maybe we could take a shower, get all this makeup off and whatnot…”

You nodded again, your puppy dog eyes meeting his wicked gaze. He cracked a crooked smile.

“You’d like that?”

“Yes.”

“Please?”

“Please.”

With that, the two of you turned to the mirror in a hurry, wiping away smeared lipstick and smudged eyeliner. You were both pressed, shoulder to shoulder, leaning towards your reflections. His eyes caught yours in the glass, his mouth offering you one last taunting smile as he used a tissue to wipe the edges of his red-stained mouth. You helped him tie up his costume again, your hands running down the length of the fabric to smooth the crinkled fabric.

You exited the bathroom, Harry’s hand in yours. You both stumbled drunkenly into the hallway, your feet tripping over themselves. You fell into Harry’s chest, his arms quick to catch you. You both were in a fit of giggles, from each other and from the champagne. You were too swept away in the moment to stop yourself, leaning up to Harry to kiss him one more time before you reentered the party. The hallway was empty and dark, and Harry didn’t show any signs of stopping you.

“I love you so much,” He mumbled into your mouth. You responded by pulling him closer, your hands digging into his hair. You had never felt happier than you did, right now, in this moment, promises of all the things Harry would do to you hanging between your bodies. Harry pressed you into the wall, helping to steady your unbalanced body. He was everything to you, especially in this moment. It was like nothing else mattered, or had ever mattered, or ever would. You could have died right here and now and everything would have been perfect. You wouldn’t have had any complaints.

“Hey, Y/N.” You heard a voice come from the end of the hallway. You jumped, pushing Harry’s chest so that he would be forced to take a step back. “Styles, pleasure as always.”

Even in the dim lighting of the hallway, even as the house swayed around you, you could tell instantly who it was. He looked the same as always. He had one shoulder leaned on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t have any words at all to say to him, standing there staring at you with a nasty, smug expression on his face.

“Glad to see you two made up.” Chrisitan said, smiling. He took a step closer to you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I figured this would happen.”

“No fucking way..” You groaned under your breath, not exactly at him, but loud enough for him to hear. “H, let’s go.”

You took Harry’s hand in yours, Harry leading the way further down the hall. Just as you were about to squeeze past Christian, he stuck out an arm, blocking Harry from moving any further.

“Hey!” Christian said with a bark of a laugh. “Slow down, ‘H’.”

Christian was wearing a devil costume, or a lame attempt at one. It was fitting to say the very least. He had a set of horns on his head, pushing the hair away from his face, his torso donning a red t-shirt. Below that, a regular pair of jeans. “Relax,” He said, still not moving his arm.

“Get away from me, Christian. I’m not joking.” You warned, not wanting to start anything with him. All you wanted to do was get away, to follow Harry outside until a car could come pick you up and take you back to his house. Your head was still foggy, your mouth still tasting faintly of your boyfriend. You could feel that dreamy, soft feeling fleeting all too quickly. You turned to look up at Harry, who had his jaw clenched in discomfort.

“Get away.” You added softly, turning your gaze back to Chistian. You tried to push past him, but he wasn’t relenting. You took a few steps back, wanting to at least put some space between you if you couldn’t get around him. You were so close you could smell that same cologne he always used, his body close enough to you to almost reach out and touch. You went cold with panic, remembering the way his hands had held you down before. The way that same cologne had mixed with the smell of liquor and weed...

More memories flashed through your mind at the scent, Christian laying across your bedroom floor as you sat beside him strumming your guitar absent mindedly. "We should write a song together someday," you had suggested to him then. You remembered Christian helping you carry boxes into your new house the day you moved in. You remembered Christian backstage at your very first show, waiting with flowers to tell you what a great job you’d done. You remembered shaving the parts of his head he couldn’t reach in the bathroom of his house, Logan smoking a joint as she watched from the edge of the tub. You had all laughed so hard that night you thought you were going to pass out from happiness alone. It was evident now more than ever how much time had passed, Christian’s hair grown out again. You searched his face in front of you, trying to catch a glimpse of who you knew back then. You couldn't see it, and it cut you somewhere too deep to soothe.

You had barely thought about him lately, but seeing him again like this was bringing everything back. It hurt worse now, because as those little moments you shared flicked through your mind you realized for the first time how much you missed them. You took another step back, for good measure, wondering if a few more inches between your bodies would make the sting go away.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N. I was only saying hi.”

Christian took another step closer to you in an effort to close the gap, causing Harry to take a step to the side to stand between you two. Christian let out a rotten giggle.

“What do you think you’re gonna do, Styles? Playing hero again as always?”

“Fuck off, mate.”

It scared you that Harry’s body was shaking in front of you. He was nervous. Why would he be nervous? You wanted to scream, or cry, or run down the hallway in the other direction. But you stood there, frozen in place. Part of you wanted to retreat once again into the solace of the bathroom, to feel Harry’s hand wrap around your throat as he buried himself into you. Anything to distract you from all of the things you had tried so hard to forget staring at you from the end of the hallway.

“Fuck off? Try a thank you, maybe.” Christian began. You heard him take another step closer.

“Thank you?” You snapped, walking around Harry’s body so that you could face Christian in front of you. Logan, Rachel, and Anders had heard the commotion, each of them standing dumbfounded at the end of the hallway. Anders especially was confused, looking around at each person’s face to try to gauge whatever was going on. They had walked around the corner just in time to see you lose your grip, finally giving Christian the attention he wanted from you as you raised your voice at him.

“Do you really think Harry would be with you right now if it weren’t for me?” Christian asked, leaning so closely into you now that his face was only a few inches away. You stood your ground, wanting to show him that you weren’t backing down, or scared, or letting him win. Not this time. It was killing you, though, and you were scared. “Isn’t that why he came in to save the day, because you were so torn up over some kiss?”

You thought back, remembering the night Harry showed up at your house after everything happened with Christian. How he had shown up out of the blue, after weeks of not hearing from him. You hated the memory, and you hated Christian for reminding you of it. You shook your head, not even considering the possibility that it had all been a part of some plan. It didn’t make sense. Harry was always there for you when you needed him, especially then, despite everything that had happened between you.

“He came over just in time, huh? You’re so fucking stupid for buying that shit, Y/N. We’re friends and all, but you should’ve seen through that.”

“We’re not friends, Christian.” You said pathetically. "Please move." He didn’t let you leave, though, his condescending smile only intensifying.

“Come on, Y/N. Didn’t you think that was weird? What do you think him and I talked about at the party? Harry here gave me his blessing with you, though I didn’t expect you to put up that much of a fight. Neither of us did.” He paused, reaching out to touch your arm. You pulled harshly out of his grip, which only made him snicker. You wondered if he could see you cracking, if he could see it all falling apart right before his eyes. “Who do you think called the paparazzi that night? I knew they would be there. I had albums to sell, and I knew you were the perfect way to do that. It didn’t go as I’d planned, but it worked nonetheless.”

“What is he talking about?” You asked Harry. He looked at you, eyes wide. Most of what he was saying didn’t surprise you. It was easy to believe he had planned to have the pictures taken. It was easy to believe it was all some fucked up plot of his. But your mind was stuck on what he said about Harry.

“He’s just making shit up, like always.” He promised. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to look at him after taking several steps away from Christian. He grabbed your face roughly. He started whispering now so no one else would be privy to what he was about to tell you. “He’s just trying to get under your skin, sunflower. You know that.”

You looked at him, silently, your mind spinning.

“Anyway, in some weird way I guess you could say I’m responsible for the two of you finally getting together. So, yes, a thank you would be nice.”

Christian stayed where he was, seemingly amused by Harry’s hands cupping your face.

“Fuckin’ leave her alone, man.” Anders said, deciding suddenly to come down the hall towards the devil in front of you. His footsteps were as heavy as always. He was almost pressed against Christian when he finally stopped, his face inches away from his. “She said fuck off. Now go.”

“Who the FUCK do you think you are?” Christian yelled, shoving Anders by the chest. Anders didn’t take it well, shoving Christian back. His shoulders made a loud thud as they hit the wall behind him.

“Don’t fucking try me, asshole.” Anders bit. You couldn’t even interject, too shocked to say or do anything. You wouldn’t have even guessed Anders could speak like that to anyone, the sweet Midwestern boy who was permanently caught in a fit of giggles nowhere to be found. You could see Anders debating as he sized Christian up, his hands in tight fists at his side. Part of you wanted to see Christian get punched in the face, but you knew that wouldn’t look good for anyone.

“What do you even have to do with this?” Christian asked him, steadying himself. Then his face broke out into a smile, a finger coming out to press against Anders chest. “You trying to fuck her, too? It’s not worth the effort, bro.”

He paused for a moment, a lightbulb flickering on above his head before he landed his final blow.

“Or do you just want to buy some more pills? Sorry, bud, I’m fresh out.”

Anders face flickered with panic, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth to speak before giving up.

“Let’s just go,” He decided, beckoning you with a wave of his arm. He looked at Harry, as if waiting for him to do something, anything, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “We can go to my place.”

You were still frozen, though. What was that about?

“Y/N, let’s go.” He repeated, waiting. You took too long though, giving Christian the opportunity to continue on his tirade.

“Harry, you should tell her about that night. You should tell her about all the phone calls we had. Don’t you remember?”

Christian words were venomous now, trying to spit out the rest of what he had to say before anyone had the chance to leave.

“You should’ve heard the things he said about you, Y/N” He continued when he got no response from Harry, pausing to let out a laugh, “It was awful. ‘She’s so obsessed with me, I can’t get her to leave me alone’.”

You hated the way his lips curled into a smile around his words. You hated how his voice mimicked Harry’s accent, exaggerated and ugly.

“What is he talking about?” You asked again, turning to face your supposed boyfriend. Harry shook his head, but no words came out. What the fuck is going on?

“I bet he left that part out, huh?” Christian continued, not bothering to let Harry answer. It didn’t seem like Harry had anything to say for himself, anyway. “He told me allllll about it. About everything. We were all pretty surprised you turned him down to begin with, we all kind of assumed you’d be easier. I decided to have a go, but you’re a stonewall, Y/N. Or at least you were until he came crawling back, huh?”

Harry wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring straight ahead at Christian. There was something off in his gaze, and your stomach fell to your feet as you recognized the expression. It was like he was silently begging Christian to stop, not even looking angry anymore. Only scared.

“That’s enough, man.” Anders chimed in again, though Christian didn’t even seem to hear him. He gestured to you again, silently this time, asking you to come stand next to him.

“I kind of knew it was only a matter of time before you’d end up in his bed. What was it you said, Harry? You’d give it a month?”

“Harry…” The sound was forced from your throat, your airways feeling constricted and tense. Harry finally turned to look at you, shaking his head again silently.

“I didn’t…” He tried to say, his voice giving out before he could finish.

You glanced over Christian’s shoulder at Logan, who had tears streaming down her face. She was always crying at any confrontation.

“Oh, come on, Styles. It’s all out in the open now…. Y/N, Harry and I are quite good friends, don’t you remember?”

You ignored his taunts, pulling your hand out of Harry’s.

“You invited him here.” You said suddenly, your voice forced into a hush so that you wouldn’t scream. You were looking Logan now, her head shaking back and forth quickly. “This is your… your new best friend’s party. You must have told her to put him on the list, right?”

“I didn’t-”

“That’s why you’ve been so weird lately, right? Because you’ve been fucking Christian behind my back? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

You couldn’t help your voice rising now. You felt a tear escape onto your face, but you tried to wipe it away before anyone here would have the satisfaction of seeing you cry. It felt good to finally say it out loud, to finally have it all out in the open. It had been bubbling under the surface for too long now, finally spilling over. You knew it all along.

“I am not!” Logan yelled. Rachel tried to put a hand on her back, which Logan quickly flinched away from. “I wouldn’t fucking do that to you.”

“Then why is he here? Why haven’t I seen you more than five minutes in the last month?”

“Because you’ve been with him!” Logan said, sounding more defeated than angry. She gestured toward Harry with her arm before letting it fall limply back to her side.

“Yeah, while you’ve been FUCKING Christian!” You snapped. You knew your voice could be heard throughout the party at this point. You couldn’t control it, your hands forming small, shaking fists at your side.

She didn’t say anything else, only continuing to cry helplessly as she shook her head back and forth. That’s what you thought. You knew that this was coming, but you’d tried so hard not to see it. It was all so obvious. Logan and Christian. Harry and Christian. It all made sense to you now.

“Y/N, let’s go to my place.” Anders said yet again, walking past Christian. He looked over at Harry, throwing him a look tinged with disappointment. He met his eyes without nervousness. “You can stay with me.” He offered, his voice soft and sweet in stark contrast to all of the harsh tones filling the hallway. You nodded your head.

“Stay out of this, mate.” Harry quipped, apparently finding his voice now that Christian was done. “She barely even knows you, she’s- she’s not coming home with you.”

Anders shook his head at him, giving you one last look before walking away. “Whatever.” He said under his breath, the words lingering in what was now a silent corridor of the house.

You walked down the hallway after him, passed all of them, not bothering to entertain any of them anymore. You weren’t sure where you were going to go, but you knew you had to leave. There were eyes on you as you paced towards the door, but you couldn’t have cared any less. You reached the lawn, Harry and Anders being the only two to follow you out into the yard. Anders stood back, probably unsure what to say or do, as Harry grabbed you again. You pulled away sharply from his hold.

You stormed out into the lawn, Harry close on your heels. The air was crisp and smelled clean, the way October always did. Goosebumps rose on your legs once the cool air hit you, your high heels threatening to sink into the soft grass with every step.

“Y/N, wait.” Harry said, grabbing your wrist yet again. You tried to pull your arm away, not wanting to look at him, but he had a firmer grip this time. You spun around to face him. “Where are you going?” He asked, breathless. His face was coated in a thin veil of sweat and a shattered expression. You hated the way it made your chest sting, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms and let him hold you until everything went away.

“I-” You began, realizing you had no answer. “I don’t know.”

Harry stood there silently, pulling his lower lip between his teeth thoughtfully. He dropped your wrist from his hand, trusting that you’d stay. You chose not to betray him, standing there patiently for him to try to explain himself. His arms hung limply at his sides, defeated. It was almost comical, the two of you standing there in these outfits, all teary eyed and serious.

“You don’t seriously believe any of that, do you?” He asked. You huffed a laugh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Harry.” You said, your words coming out as crisp as the air around you. You really didn’t know what to think. It made sense what Christian had said. They certainly looked quite buddy-buddy at Christian’s party.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together suddenly in disbelief. He smiled, a hurt, half smile, and shook his head. His eyes found a spot to settle on between your two pairs of shoes, his gaze intense as if he were attempting to count each blade of grass.

Anders took a few steps closer to you, not daring to speak, only the slight squish of his feet in the grass to give away his movements. It hadn’t rained, had it? It never rained in LA... You didn’t bother to look at Anders, not wanting to see the confused look on his face. Instead, you followed Harry’s lead and found a particularly tall blade of grass to focus on. Harry glanced over his shoulder at your only friend left, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he turned back to face you so Anders knew his presence wasn’t welcome. He didn’t take the hint, though, standing a few feet back, observing. There must have been an air around you telling him not to come any closer.

“Y/N he wasn’t even making any sense. You can’t sit here and act like you honestly believe any of that shit. He- He wasn’t even making any sense!”

Harry’s voice came out confident and authoritative, only beginning to waver half way through when you didn’t agree. His words came out rushed then, uncertainty dripping off of every syllable.

“You were talking to him? This whole time?” You asked him, finally meeting his eyes. His mouth was hung open in a mix between disgust and confusion. “You said all of that about me?”

“No! I didn’t! I mean, I talked to him that night but that was it. I haven’t spoken to him since, sunflower, you have to believe me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The words came out quickly, almost like a defense mechanism. Harry’s face shifted, as if he’d been kicked in the gut. His mouth moved a few times, feebly, trying to find something to say. Any annoyance you had seen in his expression before had melted away, replaced with something that looked like grief and sadness and heartbreak. You couldn’t even stand to look at him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. It cracked slightly, like glass, and you could feel your body beginning to shake with anger or nervousness or maybe something else all together.

“I don’t know.” You responded truthfully. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself at this point. It was what you always did, though, wasn’t it? Lashing out at whoever was closest the second you felt cornered? You knew even as it was happening that you were making a mistake, that every word coming out of your mouth was a mistake, and yet you couldn’t manage to stop it. But you were hurt, and confused, and mortified. You imagined Harry and Christian, placing bets on who could get to you first. You imagined Christian laughing along as Harry mocked you, creating some narrative that you were the one begging for him when it had always been the other way around.

“You can’t do this right now, Y/N. You can’t do this.” Harry’s voice was shaking, tears making his already glassy eyes a bit shinier. You turned your face away from his, not wanting to see it happen. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t-”

“I don’t know what’s happening, either.” You barked, making Harry flinch slightly. “Apparently I’m the only one who didn’t know what was happening. This entire time. And I’m just… I’m just so fucking tired of looking stupid all the time. Like everyone has this big secret and I’m just standing here fucking oblivious to all of it.”

“Y/N, he’s fucking with you. You have to know that… None of that was true, none of it.”

“How am I supposed to know that, Harry?” You snapped again, your own throat beginning to feel hot with tears. You felt shaken and upside down, completely disoriented and out of place. None of this made sense.

“Because I’m telling you so!” Harry shouted. He threw his hands up in defeat, shaking his head. His face was still soft, not hardening at all like his tone was. He wrapped his large hands around your biceps, as if making sure you wouldn’t go anywhere. “And you’re supposed to believe me.”

You sniffled, pulling out of his arms. You shook your head slowly, facing your feet.

“I don’t know, Harry… It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because he’s lying to you, Y/N! He’s lying! I shouldn’t even-” He stopped, throwing his hands around erratically as he spoke. He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t even have to convince you that he’s lying. You’re supposed to trust me.”

His voice broke on the word ‘trust’. You knew he was right, maybe, but you had reason enough not to trust him, didn’t you?

“I just don’t know.” You cried. You wiped your nose on your sleeve, the sequins scratching your skin. Harry scoffed, running his hands through his hair.

“I can’t believe this.” He uttered under his breath. “You need to know, Y/N. You’re… You’re being insane right now. We shouldn’t even be talking about this.”

“But that’s what always happens, right? Something happens and I’m always just the crazy one? You get to do whatever you want to me and I just forgive you for it.”

Harry took a few steps away from you, as if being near you was painful.

“You- Fuck! You know that’s not true! Why are you acting like this?”

“Because!” You yelled. “Because Harry! You just keep.. You just keep doing things and I’m fucking on my knees for you the next day. No matter what happens. You got what you wanted from me.”

Anders was still close by, his head towards the ground. His hands were fidgeting in front of his body, unsure what else to do.

“No, Y/N. You don’t get to do this. I know I messed up, but you never fucking listen to me.”

“You keep running away!”

“Because you keep PUSHING!”

You didn’t say anything. Harry brushed the hair out of his face, limp curls falling to kiss his forehead. He paused for a moment, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before looking up at the sky. He took a deep, uncertain breath.

“You do this to everyone. You push everybody away.”

There was more. You didn’t say a word, wanting him to go ahead and say whatever it was that he so desperately wanted to say. You were so tired of being tiptoed around, of having things hidden from you that you almost wanted him to yell at you. To tell you exactly what it was that was going on in his head, for once. He took the opportunity, quickly finding the rest of the things he wanted to say.

“You never even give me a chance to explain myself, Y/N. You don’t. You always take his word over mine. And I’m standing here telling you that none of that was true and you’re just… ignoring me!” Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing Anders still close by. He lowered his voice. “You don’t get to keep doing that. You don’t get to make me the bad guy every time something happens. I’ve done everything....” His voice broke again, betraying the harshness he had tried to give to his tone. “I’ve done everything to make it all up to you. But none of that is true. You have to believe me.”

You looked at him, really looked, taking in the way his brows pinched in the middle. You took in the way his lips looked, the way his eyes were shimmering. You shook your head at him, walking away.

“Where are you going?” He asked, jogging after you. You stopped, turning back to him.

“To Anders house.” You answered. Anders looked up at you, his eyes wide. He looked like he wanted no part in any of this, standing there as uncomfortable as you’d ever seen him. Harry laughed, a tight, humorless sound.

“No you’re not.” He said, his voice firm.

He took you by the wrist, like he always did. He pulled you to his chest, kissing you hard. You could practically feel the panic rolling off of him when you didn’t reciprocate, his hands clutching desperately at your cheeks.

“No.. you’re not.” He said again, almost begging. His pleas came out, rushed and broken between kisses. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. You know I do. I love you.”

You pushed away from him, not allowing yourself to fall into his kiss. Harry’s heart was breaking right in front of you. You could see it all over his face. Let it, you thought. Yours had broken a million times, over and over. Why should you be the only one?

“You can’t leave.” Harry continued pleading. You walked towards Anders, who was still standing there dumbfounded. Harry spoke as he followed. “Please, sunflower. Come home with me and I can try to explain everything. I did talk to him that night at his party, I told you that. He asked me about you and I said that we weren’t together. That’s it. He- He said he was going to try to talk to you. And I was embarrassed… I was hurt, and I told him to go for it. I was trying to seem.. I don’t know. I didn’t want anyone to know how fucked up I was over everything. I knew I shouldn’t have told him that, but he was your friend. I didn’t think anything would happen. I didn’t think that would happen.”

“Well it did, Harry.” You said. Your voice came out cold. You knew how unfair it was to pin all of that on him, but you also knew how deeply it would cut him. You couldn’t stop the words.

“So you’re just going to take his word over mine, then? After everything-”

“After what? After you got your quick fuck? After you… you had me every way you wanted to?”

“Stop fucking saying that!” He broke. You could tell he was close to giving up, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. He sighed deeply. “How many times am I going to have to tell you? I’ve loved you since I met you. Everything I did.. I did it because I loved you. I tried letting you go, I tried explaining myself. I tried everything. And now.. I can’t let you walk away now. Not after everything.”

“You told him to “have a go” at me, Harry. You were… what? Competing to see who would fuck me first? I would never talk about you like that behind your back, Harry, never.”

You were struggling to keep the tears at bay so much so that you started choking on your words, your chest aching by the time you finished your thought. Harry bit his lip, hard, stopping himself from saying… something.

“That’s not what happened.” Was all he offered, his words short and detached. You shook your head, disappointed.

“What happened then?“

“I told you what happened.” He continued, his body relaxing slightly at your offer to hear him out. It wasn’t that you believed him, or wanted to hear his side. You wanted to see him struggle to dig himself out of the hole he’d created for himself. “He asked about me and you, and I said we weren’t together. Yeah, I told him I tried it with you but all I said was that you weren’t interested. He said something about asking you out, and I told him to go for it. And I am so, so fucking sorry for that. I didn’t tell him to fuck you- You think I wanted that? It was killing me imagining you with him. It killed me, sunflower.”

You didn’t bother correcting him on the nickname again. You weren’t satisfied, waiting for him to continue.

“There is no way I could’ve known what would happen. I.. I don’t own you. So if you didn’t want me, then why couldn’t he ask you out? Who was I to tell him no? I never said anything else. I didn’t tell him anything about us, Y/N. I would never.”

You looked away from his rosy face, towards the stars that seemed to be hung on every word. You didn’t know what to do. You felt embarrassed and stupid. The thought of Harry and Christian talking about you, about all the things Christian said… it made your stomach turn.

“Maybe I just need to think about it.” You said. Your resolve was breaking, your anger fading away in sheets at the sight of Harry in pieces in front of you.

“Think about what? We can’t just be friends again. We can’t. There’s nothing to think about.”

“That’s not what I said, Harry. I said I need to think.”

He closed his eyes, struggling to center himself.

“And let’s say you go home and ‘think about it’,” His fingers formed little quotations around his words, “What then? The only option is for you to get over it or for us to break up. And I can’t be your friend, Y/N, no matter how much I love you. I can’t do that.”

He waited for your answer, his face annoyed and impatient. He raised his eyebrows at you, pressuring you for a response.

It wasn’t fair. Couldn’t you at least have the night to sober up? Couldn’t you at least have the time to think about what had happened? What if Chrisitan was telling the truth? Would you even be able to look passed it?

“I don’t know, Harry. Maybe we need to be. For now.”

You wanted to take the words back instantaneously. That wasn’t what you wanted to say. No. No no no.

“No..” He echoed your thoughts, backing away from you slowly. “No. Not because of this. I can’t.”

You tried to think of some way to backpedal, to save whatever was left between you. “I just need some time… I just need some time to think about it, Harry. Please.”

You hadn’t noticed it happen, but you were crying now. Fully crying ugly, messy tears. Your chest rattled, your shoulders shaking with every sob that crashed over you.

“So what are you going to do, then? Write another song about how awful I am?” Harry snapped. Something was different in him now, his face hard and devoid of any of the sweet, gentle feelings he supposedly held for you.

“What?”

“Your song. I didn’t like it, Y/N. I didn’t. It was mean, and nasty, and dramatic. But you know what?” Harry paused, letting the question hang over you. He laughed as he waited, sounding exasperated. “I got over it. I moved on and I let it go because I love you. I always let things go. Every time you’ve disappeared, or turned me down, or told me I didn’t care about you. I let it go. Every. Single. Time. But you never do the same for me. You get so mad at me for everything, even the things I didn’t fucking do!”

“You’ve done terrible things to me, Harry.” You whispered. You should’ve seen this coming, knowing how Harry always acted when he snapped like this. The second his feelings were hurt, he hit you in all of your weakest points, on purpose. You tried not to let it get to you, but the ice in his gaze made it impossible.

“Like what, Y/N? Getting a girlfriend because you didn’t want to be with me? Having sex with you at some party, like I have with a million other people? Everyone does that, Y/N. You just make everything a big deal when it doesn’t fucking have to be.”

The air was knocked out of you. You gasped, literally, unable to process the words he was throwing at you. He was speaking so quickly now, his choice of words no longer thought out or deliberate. He spat each syllable at you.

“And the time I fucked you at the party? You can’t pretend like you didn’t want it. I asked you over and over if it was okay. I did it because I wanted you, sunflower. You can’t hold that against me forever.” You couldn’t even look at him anymore, closing your eyes. “It’s so… it’s so fucking unfair for you to do that to me, you know that? I feel like such a prick when you bring it up. And you bring it up all the fucking time!”

You could tell he instantly regretted what he’d said, walking back over towards you quickly.

“I didn’t mean that. I just mean-”

“I heard you.” You cut him off. You turned on your heel, walking towards the street. You hoped Anders would know to follow you, unsure what your plan was once you reached the street a few feet away. Before you could make it very far, though, Harry ran around to your front, stopping you with two firm hands on your shoulders. You didn’t even try to push him away this time, simply staring up at him. He was crying again.

“I didn’t mean that.. I.. We can’t break up, Y/N. We can’t.” He said to you. You could tell he was embarrassed, looking all around him as he spoke. His eyes fell on Anders, just for a second, before looking back to you. He sniffled, his nose running ever-so-slightly along with his eyes. “Please, sunflower. I’m begging you, please. I love you.”

You didn’t respond, still trying to process everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Harry continued as you stood there, silent.

“I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I’m sorry. But I do feel bad about it, and I just-” He choked, restarting his sentence. “I just want you to do the same for me that I always do for you. Can we please just let it go? I didn’t say any of that shit to Christian. I would tell you the truth, I always do.”

You were totally numb, unable to answer. You didn’t nod, or try to walk away, or even cry. You just looked at him. You hated him in this moment, for the first time ever. You hated him, in a place somewhere so deep inside of you you hadn’t even known was there. You hated him because he was right.

“Please. I’ve never… I’ve never loved anybody like this before, ever. I can’t-” He choked on his words, taking a slow, shaking breath as his eyes glanced quickly above his head. He was moments away from shattering, you could tell. “Please don’t. What do you think I did? You think I told him to hit on you so I could come swoop in? You know that doesn’t make sense. I haven’t talked to him, not at all. Not at all, Y/N, I haven’t. I haven’t.”

Harry’s head fell, the only indication that he was crying coming from the way his head bobbed slightly as it faced the ground. His soft sniffles tore you apart as you gazed at him. He looked back down at you, pulling you in one last time for a kiss. You couldn’t stop your lips moving with his time time. Harry signed, relieved, into your mouth. You whispered that you loved him too, because it was true. Eventually, you pulled away, rubbing at your eyes.

“I just want some time, Harry.” You whispered back to him. His eyes closed firmly, squeezing out a few more tears. He couldn’t bear to hear you say it, shaking his head harshly.

“No. No. We can go inside, right now. We need to go inside.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Listen to me.” He said harshly. You nodded. “We have to go inside, now. We’re both going to have a lot of explaining to do when these pictures show up online tomorrow morning. We need to go inside.”

“I don’t want to go back inside, Harry. I- I can’t.” You repeated, harder this time.

“Y/N- Fuck! Y/N, you might not care about what people say about you, but I do. I do care. Please, for me, let’s go inside. Please.”

“You didn’t care when you were with her.” You said, knowing that that wasn’t what he meant. He removed his hands from you.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He said, trying to keep his voice down but struggling to control his volume. “Come ON. Let’s go.”

You considered it for a minute. You always followed him, wherever he wanted to go. You followed him onto balconies, into bathrooms, into empty bedrooms at parties. You owed it to yourself to at least think this over. He was starting to get to you, his words worming their way into your brain. You needed some space to think clearly. You shook your head.

“I have to go.” You whispered. Harry fell, crouching in front of you. He covered his face with his hands. “Just for the night. Just let me think about it, okay? I just need to think about it.”

Harry didn’t say a word. He stayed where he was, on the ground. You couldn’t leave him like that. You dropped to your knees with him, your tights instantly dampening as they pressed into the grass.

“Anders, could you please give us a moment?” You said, looking over your shoulder. He nodded wordlessly before sauntering off, unsure. Harry looked up, wiping black eyeshadow from under his eyes. His eyes didn’t meet yours.

“What the fuck was he doing just standing there like that?” Harry snapped after a few moments. “He’s, like, obsessed with you or something.”

“No he’s not.” You said. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to brush the stray hair away from his damp forehead. You didn’t, though, just watching him. “He’s my friend, Harry. He’s just… worried about me.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about you.” He whispered, sounding almost like a child. “That’s my job.”

Your chest swelled. Fuck it, you thought. Let Harry say what he wanted about you. Let him do whatever he wanted, as long as he was yours. You were too tired to keep fighting, too drunk and too in love. You reached out, touching Harry’s cheek as softly as you could to see if he would pull himself away.

“So what, you’re not going home with him now? Finally sent him away?” Harry spat, remaining in his spot on the ground. He took your hand in his own though, holding your fingers against his face. “Figured you might just go all the way this time, since I interrupted you two before.”

“Stop it.” You told him, trying to sound firm but sounding weak and broken. You brushed your fingers along the soft stubble of his face, Harry’s head leaning into your touch. He nodded, agreeing to your plea.

“Sorry.” He mumbled to the ground. He sniffles one more time.

Crickets chirped around you, silently applauding what they didn’t understand. You took a second to enjoy their song, imagining just for a second that you were back at home, far away from all of this. You remembered how the crickets sang the same way for you when you swam in Layla backyard, the sky turning a deep orange. That color that only felt that warm in the suburbs.

“I don’t know what to say.” You told him after a few loaded, silent minutes. He shrugged, annoyed and hurt.

“You said what you needed to, I think.”

“You honestly can’t see why I’m upset?” You asked him. He stood, offering you a hand to bring you with him. You accepted, his fingers all too quick to release yours once you were upright.

“Sure, Y/N.” He answered. There were no more tears. No more emotion in his voice. “But I’m telling you it isn’t true, and you don’t believe me. What else do you want me to do?”

And so you both stood there, silently.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” You decided out loud. You hadn’t meant it. Something in Harry’s expression told you you might have waited too long to take it back, though, lines appearing around his mouth like parentheses as he frowned toward you. His chin quivered slightly, the only sign left that he still cared at all.

“You always say things you don’t mean. You never…” he paused, pressing his mouth against his hands that were pressed together as if in a prayer. “You just don’t think sometimes. It hurts me, Y/N.”

“You do too, Harry.” You reminded him, his words from just a few minutes prior still stinging your skin. You tried to removed the bite from your tone, tiptoeing around him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I love you. I believe you.”

“I mean what I say.” He assured you harshly, ignoring the rest of what you’d said. “And I know just because I mean them doesn’t mean I should say them out loud. But you… you just say anything.”

“So you meant what you said just now? All of that?”

“Of course I did.”

Ouch. So much for chalking it up to the heat of the moment. At least you knew now how he really felt.

“You know, no matter how mad I got at you I wouldn’t ever threaten to leave with my ex like that. Imagine if I had done that just now? Imagine if I would’ve spent a week at her house while you were away? You never would’ve spoken to me again.” Harry continued. His arms were crossed, blocking his body off from yours. You knew he was right.

“Anders isn’t my ex. He’s just-“

“A friend. Right.” Harry finished for you. “The friend whose lap I found you sitting on. Nothing that I should worry about.”

“I told him-"

“I don’t care what you told him!” He snapped. “If the roles were reversed, we’d be done! You know that’s true! Why am I always…”

“Let’s just go, Harry. We can talk about it tomorrow, when we feel better.”

“I’m still talking.” He snapped again, holding a finger in your face to silence you. “I’m always expected to let everything go. And I don’t think you’ll ever do the same for me, Y/N. I don’t.”

“I will, Harry.” You swore. How did he do this? How did this always happen, this role reversal? You were always the one who apologized in the end, no matter what happened. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again-"

“Don’t call me that.”

He turned, walking back towards the house. You didn’t bother following, standing there stupid and alone. All you could do at this point was cry.

151 notes · View notes

nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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Oh God😵

Can we just pretend it didn't happen?

It's embarrassing as it is and I'm trying to put it behind me. No need to keep reminding me

I posted about buff Jimin and akekeed over it the day before that incident. I don't have a problem with buff skinny thicc flat Jimin💀

I got triggered that day that's all.

Clearly I'm sensitive about Jimin and anything related to his body issues. That's what happens when you over step your boundaries as a stan.

It happened. I'm over it.

I saw a bunch of tweets that day celebrating JM's 'new body' and the caption was 'buff Jimin is back.' That's what triggered me that day.

It was difficult seeing a bunch of people praise JM for a body he himself said really wasn't his style years ago.

He even said recently himself he wasn't trying to look buff or anything and I remember joking about how he would say that but will show up here with shoulders like the hulk. I wasn't wrong and I also didn't think too much of it.

And as I said, people push for him to buff up all the time as if his body type as it is is not normal or valid. Not every male has arms that can drill through rocks nor should they all. It don't make them any less male.

So seeing all these people celebrate his 'new' look, I couldn't bring myself to celebrate it with them. Some how it reminded me of when he was a younger man and was pushed to over sexualize and objectify himself and his body by exposing his abs on stage etc. At the time he had said he wasn't comfortable with that but swallowed it and did it anyway especially when he realized fans liked it.

So I was confused as to whether this time around he was being pushed to look this way by the company or advertisers they worked with or even that whole ban on effeminate men on TV in China- or that he was finally giving into the pressure to change his body by fans as he had been complaining for sometime that his body wasn't looking nice.

For a moment I thought he was relapsing or something and falling back into a dark place he's worked his way out of with regards to his body and I was disappointed.

But I've since learnt it is not my place.

We all have aspects of these people we've latched on to and to me it felt as if I was the one relapsing on old bad habits I'm ashamed to say out loud. Too much projection there I admit. It certainly didn't help that someone pointed out to me I was projecting. It made me think, wait a sec. It's all in my head? I've been reading him wrong all this time.

That's when i started spiralling.

Truth is, I'd feel really broken if I celebrated his new body like everyone else but then one day he comes out to say he wasn't in a good mental place and had ben pushed to do something like that because of XZ factors.

If that happens I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself.

I'll probably throw much more tantrums than I have in the past. I'M NOT PLAYING.👀

These are hard times and depressing times and we are all trying to deal with it the best way we can. And sometimes you are just in a a fragile state of mind and the least thing can be a trigger.

I still feel as if someone made an incision in my brain with a razor and i can feel the scar. So pathetic really when Jimin out there don't even know my name

Gotta love myself chilee and I gotta stop projecting. STOP PROJECTING GOLDY.

I'll try not to have such public mental breakdowns in the future. Jimin is not my relative and I shouldn't be this overly invested in his life. He is an adult. He will be fine. No need to worry.

I'm used to pouring out my thoughts out here I didn't realize just how bad and out of hand it had gotten.

Sorry

Can we please go back to being goofy crazy dorks. More shipping. Less ghetto shit

GOLDY

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mono-mia · 2 years

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𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓋ℴ𝓇 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹 (ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ)

𝚃𝚆: 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝.

𝙨𝙮𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙨 "𝗔𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗰𝗼𝘁𝘁" 𝗮𝗸𝗮 "𝗦𝗰𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲"

𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙧𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 "𝗡𝘆𝗹𝗮-𝗜𝘃𝗼𝗿𝘆" 𝗮𝗸𝗮 "𝗡𝗶𝗹𝗲"

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴

GOING TO SCHOOL felt abnormal, felt wrong in every nerve of my brain. In an essence, it was fucked up. I saw the news of the "accident", I saw the endless stream of posts dedicated to him, and I still went to school.

I don't know if it qualifies as an act of strength, an act of fraudulence, or pure, raw stupidity. In my mind, it was all in one: survival.

"Could you stop that? Seriously— no one would be suspicious if you would just quit the nervous chewing." Scottie released her bottom lip from between her teeth, "I feel it would be suspicious if I pretended everything was cool given the fact our chemistry teacher is dead." "Missing, he's classified as missing." I close my locker and walked with her to our shared period, A.P Government.

"Either way, to go around being calm, being normal, is pretty abnormal for a situation like this. If someone could still laugh, smile, while you were missing, I'd call that person either suspicious or an insensitive, emotionally unintelligent prick." We entered Mrs. Hastings's room, sitting in our usual spots at the back of the classroom by the window with the view of the parking lot.

"Fine, I'll amp up the somber just for you." Her lips dipped in a frown before steadying in a straight line.

• • •

𝙖𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙡 30𝙩𝙝

𝘴𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳

"Alright class- don't forget to do the study guide, it's not for a grade but it could really help some of you out! Have a great rest of your day!" Mr. Gutierrez, a well respected science teacher at Welles High School, dismissed his class- well all but one student.

"Oh! Ms. Parsons, would you mind staying back please?" It wasn't a question, it wasn't a mere ask or favor, it was a command, one that brewed raw fear inside of her. "Sure, Mr. G." She stayed put in her seat, locking her feet around the back of the front chair legs.

"Please, you know you can call me Manny when this door is locked." Her eyes drilled into the periodic table poster he, oh so conveniently, placed over the rectangular window for peeping eyes to see.

"You know why you're here right?" He loosened his tie, rolled up his crinkled cream sleeves, may have unbuttoned the first three notches on his polo dress shirt. "Actually I don't. I made it very clear that I can- I won't do this anymore." She was serious, even through the wavering of her voice, she meant every syllable.

"Is that so?" He placed his arms on her desk, etching closer to her face, "I don't believe you." In a swift motion, thanks to her being paralyzed by fear, her jaw was being toyed with by his calloused hands. Gripping and squishing her face, bringing it closer, his lips lay ghostly over hers.

"Your body, canela, adores me. You can't help but feel the goosebumps, the tightness, amor." Being the sadist he is, seeing the iridescent tears that brimmed her eyes brought a shiver of excitement. The pad of his thumb stroked the tears away as they cascade into his palms. He laid a feverish kiss on her puffed out lips, causing the cries of sickness.

"Here's what you are going to do for me, canela, you are going to have a wonderful time here, dry to pretty tears, and go on to your friend because I know she's lingering for you." He traced her jawline, "Can you do that for me?"

The soft whimpers wasn't going to suffice, "If you won't, I'm sure the blonde will." She couldn't bring herself to say she'll comply, instead she assumed position, praying for forgiveness while doing so. "You've always been so bright, canela, so, so smart." His hand gathered the wavy locks of hair into a ponytail, the other was shuffling with buckles before clamping over her lips.

"I'll make it quick and give you a tardy pass." He chuckled.

• • •

It made me sick, seeing all of those decorations on his door. Bears, pink and red balloons, cards, everything that one would give to another that they cherish, one that they love.

"Are you going to practice? Did they cancel it?" Scottie was beside me, a lot calmer than earlier, twisting her frosty locks around her index. "I don't know, I'll have to talk to Coach and see." "Be careful, if you do I mean." I turn to her with my brows furrowed and eyes squinted, "It's a rumor going around saying they were lovers." She rushed out of her mouth, causing an undeserving pang in my chest.

This day just gets more fucked up for me.

"I say take it with a grain of salt, I just heard it from Valencia in French." She attempted, albeit poorly, the backtrack and patch up her previous statement. "Given who he was, I'd believe her." We entered the bustling cafeteria, which didn't storm with gossip, but with melancholy. Oh how beloved.

"Do you wanna go eat in the car? I'm not about to deal with this." "You know they don't allow us to do that and it's okay, we can just tune them out." She grabbed my hand and led me through the sea of depressed (faux and actual) teens, those who mourn along with the ones who still maintain optimism. Lucky bastards.

I wasn't in the eating mood, but it didn't stop her from giving me an apple, "It keeps the doctors away," she says. "Do you wanna do something later? You know, to cleanse ourselves." "If you don't have practice later this week then sure, and I'm free all weekend now I'm positive Science Olympiad is canceled." She sent this smile my way, it held sarcasm, relief, but a shit ton of sadness.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-," Her hand went up, "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have. I've made my choice, and I'm happy, ironically, that I did it with you." She meant it, her eyes always get glossy when she means something.

#should i make more?#writing #thriller #frienship #black main character

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sugrbugz · 3 years

Text

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢: 𝐵𝑜𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑜

hiya!! i originally wrote this on wattpad but decided to post it here too!!

story contains: impact play, bdsm, dumbification, & daddy kink ;)

bokuto shows you just how much you mean to him.

——————————————

you were a constant in bokutos life ever since you met shortly after his graduation from fukurodani. he relied on you to be there for him when he lost or even when he won. of course he could turn to akaashi but since he never continued volleyball he never wanted to bother him.

however you came into the picture on a whim. bokuto and the rest of the msby boys ended up taking a team getaway at the hot springs you just so happened to work at. you two got chatting and hit it off right away!

that was a year ago and now you two are head over heels in love with each other. everyone kinda saw it coming but you two honestly. as of right now you sat in the stands, watching your boyfriend and his friends play their national playoffs.

you knew how hard he'd been working for this. how many hours he put into the game. you two would sit up until the early morning going over plays and techniques he'd been working on. through bokuto you started learning how volleyball worked, you knew what to cheer for now and what certain words meant.

by the end of the game you realized something. they were one point away from a win. that being said you upped the ante on your cheering. you thought about calling his name out and wishing him like but he was definitely in his own world right now. watching his concentration was actually rather hot. it reminded you of how he would stare at your body before absolutely devouring it.

you shook those thoughts out of your head, now wasn't the time. you gulped and pressed your thighs together, focusing the best you could on the game. suddenly the ball was up in the air, everyone in the stands went quiet just to see who would win. this last point means everything...so when bokuto ran for the server, smacking it down hard and fast against the other side of the court everything went silent for a moment before there were loud cheers.

the whistle was blown. they'd won. you quickly jumped up, running out of the stands and straight to the court, attacking him in a hug. "BOKUTO YOU DID IT!" you smiled, laughing some more when he picked you up and spun you around. "did you see that?! i was fucking amazing!! and it was all thanks to you my sunshine!" he hugged you close, kissing the top of your head.

you suddenly were engulfed in another hug but this time from two more sweaty boys, hinata and atsumu. "good job out there guys!" you smile to them, gently ruffling their hair. "you all played amazingly! you could feel the energy from all the way over there!" you added, laughing when bokuto pouted at them hugging you.

"you're the best person ever y/n! are you coming to the post game dinner with us? you should! you played a big role in keeping bokuto in shape" the little orange smiled, his face practically begging you to go. "if you guys will have me!" you hummed which earned a symphony of "yes!" from all the boys.

—————————————

after everything was said and done you ended up in the car with bokuto, driving to the restaurant kyoomi had chosen. "you really did amazing today koutarou" you smiled gently grabbing his hand off your thigh and kissing it, taking the time to notice how much volleyball had an effect on his hands.

"ah..thanks babe, you know you don't have to flatter me so much! i'm okay! i'm just happy knowing you had a good time today" he smiled wide, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to gaze at you. "but let's face it bo, you're destined for something greater..an amazing career in volleyball doing what you love..i'm just enjoying our time while we have it" you stated making him pull the car over and look at you.

"what are you talking about?" he asked raising an eyebrow at you. "when you have to move around a lot for volleyball..or maybe you find some really skinny model who has money and can give you beautiful babies" you now met his eyes, "i feel like one day i won't matter anymore..so i guess i just want to make sure that i love you as much as i can until then." you explained watching how his eyes reacted to everything you were saying.

"you don't understand it do you? the way i play and the way i live my life is all because of you. i play with my heart because i get so excited just to see you proud of me, i wake up every morning with the goal of making sure i fall asleep with you. everything is for you. i wouldn't want anyone else. i want to be married to you someday, i would leave everything behind just to—" you cut him off by kissing him. it was a kiss driven by passion and love for him.

"prove it." you whispered on his lips. you knew where this would get you, you both were aware of it actually. "get in the back." he stated before starting the car back up and driving to a more secluded place. he knew he could've just taken you back home but what was the fun in that.

by the time he was in the back seat with you, you had already undressed and were gently playing with yourself so eager just to be with him. he thought this was cute so he watched you with sharp eyes, his goal was to intimidate you which definitely worked. "hey baby?" he asked before gently gripping your neck in one hand, his other holding both of your cheeks squished together. "who the fuck put the idea in your head that you weren't good enough for me? was it yourself? you're so cute when you're stupid" he smiled, treating you like a child as he talked to you.

you blushed knowing exactly what he was doing so you played along with the act, "it was me..i really am stupid aren't i daddy?" you could say his name but it would ruin the moment because that's exactly what he wanted from you. "so that's the game you're playing huh? okay. that's fine darling." he smiled so sinister it was almost terrifying before his hands dipped into your waistband, pulling your pants off your body.

"what are you doing?" you commented noticing how after your pants were off he just stared at you. "i'm admiring you and how delicious you look. wondering how i'm going to absolutely ruin you till you're fucked dumber than you already are." he hummed casually before starting to undo his pants. his favourite part about topping you was getting to tease you more than he already did outside of the bedroom.

you were still flustered from his previous words that had your mind racing to even notice how he simply picked you up so you were on your hands and knees in front of him. "open your mouth." bokuto's hand found your hair and tugged you forward harshly so your mouth was pressed against his shaft. you immediately got to work sucking on his cock, tears pricking at your eyes from the size adjustment.

"that's it..you can't take all of me can you? you need to try harder than that honey." he teased you before thrusting his hips up into your mouth, smirking at the choking noises that came from you. soon he became less focused on teasing you and more on his own pleasure.

"ah fuck~b-baby you look so pretty when you t-take all of my cock-" he stuttered out, his hips getting sloppier with their thrusts made you know he was getting close. this motivated you to do anything and everything for him. you pulled your mouth of his dick, giggling when you heard his whine of protest turn into a loud moan of pleasure while you jerked him off quickly.

"come on bo...cum for me so i can feel you inside" you moaned knowing that would get him right where you wanted him. you knew it worked when he was matching your hands movement with his thrusts, loud moans and whines leaving his mouth until he finished, getting it all over your hand and his lower stomach. without a single word he laid you down on the back seat, hovering over you slightly he pushed a single finger inside you, moving it slowly so you could get used to it before speeding it up when you relaxed around his finger.

"tryna make me cum before i even get inside you? that's fine baby i'll just do the same." he winked, "did you think you'd just get off free like that? oh no baby you've got to be punished for talking so badly about my partner like that." bokuto smirked before slipping one more finger in, practically drilling it into you.

you were too lost in the pleasure to hear him, hands grasping at anything they could find. your nails dug so deep into his arm it drew blood but he didn't mind. "what's the matter hun, is it too much? do you need me to stop?" his fingers stopped moving which made you rolled your hips. "n-no! please don't stop they felt so good.." you whined softly. hearing your whines made him laugh softly before moving them again quickly.

with your head against the seat you arched your back slightly while you felt your orgasm approaching. bokuto picked up on this and began to kiss at your neck, "good baby..let it wash over you, let it start making you even more of a dumb slut for me" he whispered in your ear before nipping at it softly.

that was all you needed to hear before cumming, your hands gripping onto his biceps while moans just tumbled out of your mouth. this is what he loved to see. he felt so good knowing he put you in so much ecstasy. "good..good baby..you did so good" he softly praised before kissing your cheeks to help you calm down from the intense high you just felt.

he waited a couple moments to make sure you were okay, stroking himself softly in the process. "are you okay? can i ruin you now?" he smiled, earning a small breathy laugh from you. "yeah of course daddy, i want you so bad" you whined, wanting to keep him in the mood. you loved when bokuto showed no mercy on you, treating you like nothing but a toy until after where he showered you in love and affection.

bokuto didn't say anything as he pushed your knees up to your chest slightly before sliding into your hole with ease. this made you gasp and cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, "since you're so impatient, i'll just have to go fast right? show you just how stupid you are." he smirked before practically slamming into you, hands finding your hips. "fucking christ bo!" you moaned loudly, earning a smack across the face from him.

he never hit you hard and it never happened outside of a consensual bdsm scene so it didn't phase either of you. "shut the fuck up, you know damn well that's not my name. did you forget who you belong to? sucha stupid pet" he laughed loudly, loving torturing you with the fact you had made a stupid decision.

what was minutes truly felt like an eternity with him, feeling him slam into you over and over while soft praises and degrading sentences slipped out of his lips. "such a good pet" "dumb slut" "so good on my cock" "i'm going to fuck you so good"

they left his mouth like a song, getting so lost in the moment of making you feel so fucked out you went dumb. slowly his plan had worked as you felt your head start to go fuzzy, suddenly the only thing on your mind was him and how good his cock felt. your eyes went hooded and your mouth hung open slightly, not even realizing you were drooling slightly. "oh no..is my little angel all fucked out? daddy fucked you stupid didn't he? you probably can't even talk can you? good. pathetic bitches like you don't deserve to use their words. you gunna cum? yeah? go on my sweet dummy, cum all over daddy-" you didn't need to hear anything else before you came, hard.

your whole body twitched and loud moans slipped from your mouth as he got you there. "good job lovely.." he whispered before groaning at how tight you clenched down on him during your high, resulting in him pulling out and stroking himself quickly, his cum splattering on your tummy. "fucking shit" he whined leaning down to pant against you neck.

quickly he sat up and cupped your face, "angel? are you okay? if you can't talk that's alright i just need to see a thumbs up or down okay?" he spoke softly watching as you nodded and help your thumb up to him. "perfect..come on, i'll tell the others you weren't feeling so good..we can order in our dinner and i'll run us a bath okay? oh! what do i always say?" he smiled watching your lips move to say it but the words never coming out.

bokuto laughed softly before running a hand through your hair, "what happens in bed is for fun. you are smart, kind, loving, beautiful, handsome, and important." he smiled kissing your cheeks.

"come on my baby, let's go home."

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#sports anime #haikyuu smut #bokuto #bokuto koutaro #bokuto smut #hq imagines #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto

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reqvlvs · 3 years

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I wondered what you thought about Eddie's trauma and the way he deals with it, which always felt close to home due to his unhealthy coping mechanisms (anger management, etc.), do you feel like it's nearly suicidal (at least during the street fighting) or is it something else? (Always thought there was too much guilt for it to be only control-)

I thought when I first saw the scene between Eddie and Bobby, when they finally talk, that they should put an emphasis on the control part, like- It felt like it was downplayed (somewhat?), like they tried to make it only about his stoic facade when I think it could have been a nice way (narratively and development wise) to introduce more plainly his toxic relationship with his parents (his suffocating life and his insistance to not have Chris be with them and be trente-deux like he did). Because it could have opened the door on the stigma of power being a trait/need for men, an idea that could have been drilled by his father... (which they implied/not really talked about during his fights with Shannon)

Also, I read one of your rants, and that made me remember, one of the things I hate the most when reading Buddie fanfics is when they make Buck react about the Street Fighting by making him say stupid things like, did you think about Christopher, the people who love you, your job, ect, like he didn't have it in mind, like it doesn't contribute to his pain- When you're feeling down, or worse when you're depressed, you isolate yourself, you make it all about you because it's all you can see- Those people then try and teach a lesson when they're the ones who make depressed people feel like they are worthless- I just can't (it's not necessarly true to every single one of them but it's still too true)

Anyways :')

I'm trying to write this fanfic but can't seem to find motivation- Your posts were a really funny distraction! So thank you 💞💞

(PS: Castiel and Crowley were a fantastic duo that I would have loved to see together lol)

Hey! thank you so much for this and i will be more than happy to answer because i have a lot of opinions on this topic

First of all i wouldn't say his actions (regarding street fighting) were suicidal simply because of the fact that he had Chris and didn't want to let Chris down. however, i do think it has a lot to do with wanting to use the physical pain to distract from the emotional pain that he was dealing with. personally i believe he was raised in a household where it was drilled into him that men don't feel, and when they do they get over it, hence why we see him get back to work so quickly after Shannon's death. he wasn't raised with the mind set that what he was feeling was normal and something he didn't just have to get over. the ladder truck plus the tsunami ON TOP of shannon's death just made a whole mess of his emotions and the only one he really understood was his anger. his guilt he felt towards not saving shannon (or maybe the belief that he caused her death) and for buck and christopher during the tsunami manifested itself in this uncontrollable rage that he couldn't figure out how to let out.

in the talk with Bobby you come to realize how much they didn't really know about eddie regarding Shannon because he kept it mostly hidden. they didn't even find out until way after she died that she wanted a divorce. they assume control is the reason eddie is the way he is, because he's always the one in control of everything but frankly, he isn't and that's why he's so angry. even before, he wasn't in control when shannon left him. he wasn't in control regarding the way his and shannon's marriage (was going to, anyways) ended. he wasn't in control of the situation when buck was stuck under the truck. he wasn't in control when christopher was lost. he's always losing his grip on all these situations and he can't do anything about it and he's angry because he just wants to be able to control something in his life.

and honestly i think it does have a lot to do with his parents, again. he was raised (in my opinion) with the idea that he was the man, he was the husband, he was the father, he was the provider and he was to stay in control of everything around him. he tried to keep that for so long, he tried his hardest to be the one who dictated and handled situations and once he realized that he couldn't, he was angry. he felt disappointed in himself for not being what was expected of him. i think another part of his anger regarding his parents is the simple fact that his parents were constantly pointing out what he was doing wrong with christopher and showing him how he was a terrible father for "letting" his wife die after coming back into christopher's life. another way of proving the thought they drilled in his need for control all his life.

and you make an extremely valid point in regards to the street fighting thing!! they make it seem like eddie was unaware of the fact that buck and christopher and the 118 were there when he was more then aware of the fact that they were there, he just didn't want to hurt him. coming back to the control thing, maybe he felt like if he could just hold on to this one thing that he knew he had control of, it'd be fine, and soon enough he wouldn't he angry more and he'd stop. obviously that wasn't the case and frankly that's why i think he was so mad at Lena when he thought she told Bobby. he truly thought he had the handle on the situation, he got control of who did and didn't know, but suddenly someone else had that control and he was once again thrown off by the lose.

i know i went on about control even thought it wasn't the main focus, but i think there's a lot more to it than they were implying.

thank you so much!! im glad my posts helped and im super excited about your fic :))

(castiel and crowley are literally everything to me)

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armory-rasa · 3 years

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Have you ever made a flask, canteen, or other liquid holder? The tutorials on YouTube all seem to do similar things but the final products are always very rough or sloppy, which makes me question the workmanship. As my go-to for quality armor tutorials, I was just wondering if you had ever made something like that and if so did you deviate from: Cut, glue?, stitch, stretch, beeswax, plug.

I have not, but you inspired me to go watch some and weigh in on them. :D

youtube

This was the top result when I searched "make a leather flask," and unless I'm missing something, I'd say the workmanship on this is pretty solid. Some of the other videos have sloppy stitching and sloppy edges, but this guy takes the steps to mitigate those problems, namely by:

- Using a stitching groover to put channels in the leather before stitching, because that helps the thread stay in a tidy line. And bonus pro-tip: making sure that each stitch is angled the same direction. (Which, hm, isn't a very good explanation if you don't already know what I'm talking about. Perhaps I should do a long post on stitching.)

- Using contact cement to anchor the edges, followed by pounding/pressing them together tightly, followed by sanding the edges flat and then beveling them. I may not have done this for flasks before, but it's the same process as finishing the edges on a welted knife sheath:

You line the edges up as best you can while glueing, and then sand them down so that all the layers form one seamless edge. For knife sheaths, a belt sander is ideal, but I don't have one of those, so I tend to use a dremel with a sanding drum. It's the same as sanding by hand, just faster. So yeah, definitely glue.

Other miscellaneous thoughts:

I wouldn't tape the pattern to the leather; I don't know why he felt the need to do that, it isn't hard to keep the pattern in position while you're tracing. Even scotch tape and masking tape will fuck up the surface of the leather when you pull it off. Also, since he's going to be dyeing and beveling the edges anyway, I would have marked the pattern with a fine-point brown sharpie instead of an awl, it gives you more control.

He mentions in the video that some people use a drill press to make the stitching holes, and advises against it, but sometimes it's kind of unavoidable -- not on this flask project, because he's only punching through two layers of 9 oz leather, but when you're making welted knife sheathes, sometimes you're working with up to four or even five layers, and it's literally too thick for a diamond punch. (...Yeah I definitely have a lot to say about stitching.)

Ridiculous layers:

I would not have used the Eco-Flo Pro Waterstain that he does; that stuff is garbage, and does create the waxy barrier that he mentions causing problems when it comes time to soak the flask before wet-molding. Just use an alcohol-based dye, Fiebings or Angelus, you'll be doing yourself a favor.

Using corn kernels to get the shape is leaving some textured indentations in the wet leather; that could be avoided by using something smaller and smoother, like sand. Though the tradeoff of potentially winding up with sand in your finished water jug might not be worth it.

You could probably cut your beeswax with paraffin wax, which is cheaper and also easier to work with, in my experience. (Beeswax is REALLY sticky.) Or what I use, which is jeweler's casting wax, because it has a higher melting point (~170 F) than beeswax or paraffin (~140 F and ~120 F, respectively). This makes your armor less likely to go soft even if it gets left in a hot car, though I'd have to check the material sheet to make sure it's non-toxic before using it on a drinking bottle.

He could have made the edges more polished by hitting it with an edge burnisher during the waxing stage.

But yeah, on the whole I'd say that's a really excellent tutorial (makes me want to go make a flask of my own, hah), and even the things I'd do differently are mostly just a matter of personal preference.

#instructional #sorta #gremble comments on #leatherworking #liveblogging projects

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im-in-love-with-pizza-bites · 4 years

Text

It Takes A Village Chapter 5

Chris Evans x Pregnant!daughter!reader

Series Master List

Series summary: You find out that your pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?

Chapter Summary: It's your first day at school in boston and you make a new friend

Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.

Chapter Warnings: none that I know of

You should know the drill by now Y/n means your name, n/n means nickname.

It Sunday night and all weekend since you told your family about the baby on Friday, you were mostly left to your own devices which for the most part you did hang out with family but today you were just relaxing since your dad was making calls for work, and you just felt like being alone. Your walked around the neighborhood with Dodger, but right now you were in your bed scrolling through Instagram. You came across a photo Jake posted. Him at the skatepark seemingly unbothered by the fact he broke up with you cause he was sitting with another girl cuddled on his side. The post was captioned "Skating with Friends." You frowned deeply, he was already moving on. You finally have a minute to grieve the breakup and he's already moving on. You sighed cuddling up under your blanket deeper. Sniffling you hid your face in your pillow. You should've known it wasn't going to last but you didn't think it would end with you moving back in with your dad pregnant.

"Bubba?" Chris knocked on your door. "Can I come in?" He asked.

"One second!" You hollered wiping the few tears that managed to escape then you closed Instagram opening Netflix on you phone to make it look like you were going to watch a movie instead. "Come in!"

"Hey, Sweetpea. So I have a bit of news." He said walking in and sitting on your bed. You nodded turning your phone off before you sat up. "Well this summer I have to go to LA to film a movie and we'll be there for a few months. You'll have come with me." He told you.

"Okay.. But I'm due in november will we be back here by then?" You said.

"I'm not sure but I can't leave you here alone especially when you'll be pregnant. Bubba it'll only be for a few months and even if the baby is born in LA we'll come back to Boston in no time." He tried to reassure you.

"Okay... Oh dad! I wanted to talk to you about me getting a job so I can pay for the baby..."

"I'll help you pay." He said.

"Dad... But I have to do this on my own.. You can help but more with babysitting not paying for them... Do you know anywhere that might hire me?" You asked. He sighed nodding.

"Probably the McDonald's close to your school. I'll help you get a work permit filled out. If you promise me you won't over work yourself with at your job and with school." He negotiated.

"Deal!"

"Okay now go to bed you have school early in the morning. I'll drive you there." He kissed your forehead before leaving your room. He really hopes you keep up your side of the deal.

---

You jumped out of the car waving to your dad. "Bye!" You hollered smiling at him before making your way up to the school. Joining a new school in the middle of March isn't exactly what you wanted but none the less you can't just not go to school for the rest of the school year. You made it in eyes darting around the hoard of your new classmates all pushing around to get to their lockers.

"Hi! You must be the new girl!" A girl with bright smile said out of no where making you jump.

"Yeah.. I'm y/n... Who are you?"

"I'm Darcy! I'm going to help you find your way around the school! Do you know your locker number?" She asked you cheerfully.

"Uh.. Yeah, uh." You pulled your paper out of your backpack looking over it for your locker number. "Locker 543." You said looking at her smiling.

"Okay! Follow me! So did your family just move here is that why your joining the school so late in the year?" She asked as you began walking.

"Not really I just moved in with my dad." You told her.

"Oh cool!" She said happily as you guys turned down another hallway.

"Yeah..."

"Okay! Here's your locker. What class do you have first?" She asked. You held up your schedule to her before opening your locker. "Mr. Sparks English class. Cool! He's my favorite teacher he's pretty chill." She told you a her bright smile still on her face.

"Cool. Uh where is his class?" You asked her.

"I have to go the opposite way for my class but it's down the hallway on the left second door." She explained. You nodded before began going the other way for her class. You followed her directions to a door. You walked in seeing most of your classmates already there only a few desks empty.

"Hi? Who are you?" He asked giving you a welcoming smile.

"Uh y/n Evans. I'm new." He nodded.

"Okay take a seat."

You went to a empty seat and sat down looking around the classroom. Nothing to strange. "Sorry I'm late!" A boy with black tousled hair and a outfit that looked like it had been thrown on in minutes which you presumed by the fact he was wearing his sweatshirt on backward and inside out.

"It's fine Mr. Conley. Sit down." The teacher said. The boy came over and sat in the empty seat next to you.

"You new?" He whispered to you. All you did was nod.

---

At lunch you sat alone, you haven't made any friends yet. "Hey new girl." The boy from earlier slid into the bench across from you at the table. "I'm conley, Oscar Conley." He said in a slick voice.

"Well Conley, I'm Evans, Y/n Evans." You mocked his slick voice a smile on your face.

"Well, Evans welcome to the school!"

"Mhm.." You nodded noticing his sweatshirt was still in backwards. "Your shirts on backwards and inside out." You pointed out. He frowned looking down at the tag.

"Oh come on no one told me!" You giggled. "It's not funny I've been walking around like this all day."

"It's a little funny."

"Okay new girl, what's your story?" He asked.

"What?"

"Oh come on no one just comes to a new school near the end of March. Let me guess you got into a fight and got expelled from your last school." You shook your head. "Your secretly a spy for the fbi here to spy on one of my classmates because they're apart of the mafia!"

"No!" You laughed.

"Your actually an alien from Mars here to wipe out all of the human race."

"No. I just moved in with my dad." You said rolling your eyes at his crazy assumptions.

"That's boring you should tell everyone your an alien." He said smiling. You laughed.

"Okay. What about you Oscar? Do you sit and talk to all the new kids?" You asked before taking a bite of your lunch.

"Only the ones that look like a secret spy." He joke. You cracked a smile shaking your head.

---

After lunch you and Oscar swapped numbers before Darcy took you away to show you your next class. Right now your sitting outside waiting for your dad to come pick you up. "Evans." You heard Oscar say from behind you. "Waiting for your flying saucer?"

"Yeah." You chuckled looking at him for a second then back ahead at the street. "Well Conley that's my ride see you later!" You stood waving at him before running to your dad's car.

"Thought you said you were taking a break from boys?" Chris asked once you got in.

"Dad he's a friend the only person who talked to me without the school telling them they had to."

"Okay how was school?"

"It was good I made a friend."

He smiled at you beginning to drive as you looked out the window. "Well. Your gonna have to tell him about the baby since he's your friend now."

"Oh yeah." You said.

"Okay I got the paper work for your work permit we'll fill it out then you can apply somewhere you can walk to from school." He said.

You nodded giving him a smile.

A/n: kinda got carried away oops.

Taglist: @toastisgood @coldmuffinpartycloud @thevelvetseries

#chris evans x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #chris evans x teen!reader #chris evans #cevans #x daughter!reader #teen pregnancy #I'll be there to help you the whole way #daughter!reader #teen!reader #it takes a village

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makeste · 4 years

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Who is the bitch in the first year hero courses most down for murder, do you think? Surprisingly, despite being the only one to actually MAKE death threats, I'm mot sure Bakugou is all that high up there? When you've got Todo freezing people from the inside out, Mushroom Girl choking people, Honenuki drowning people and dropping industrial chimneys on them etc etc... What would your rankings be?

what better way to spend a Sunday evening than by ranking all of U.A.’s first-year students by murder.

disclaimer: I am doing this for fun and this entire post is ridiculous so please do not take it too seriously. also just a heads up, this post contains some recent manga spoilers as well as a couple of spoilers for Heroes Rising. now then, let’s quantify these bloodthirsty little savages.

okay so despite being entirely too plus ultra for their own good, approximately 99% of these kids would never dream of doing any kind of permanent harm to another living being. so I’m just listing the first thirty in no particular order, and then we’ll get to ranking the top ten.

Aoyama

despite having that brief moment in chapter 167 where virtually everyone thought he was a serial killer, Aoyama is actually a good boy. a bit stalkerish, maybe.

Mina

Mina did dream up that one attack where Ochako floats her up in the air so that she can rain acid down on people, which is slightly homicidal. but she’s not a killer. honestly if she was we’d all be dead already. see: thicc Girl Noumu.

Tsuyu

if Tsuyu had ever killed someone she would have already told everyone all about it because she is open about these things so safe to say she is not a killer.

Ochako

all Ochako wants to do is help and support people. she can be pretty hardcore from time to time but my baby girl would never. not to say that villain wouldn’t be a good look on her. I still get a shiver up my spine remembering that one time Toga turned into her and demonstrated exactly how deadly her quirk could be.

Ojiro

nah. the worst thing Ojiro has ever done was throwing his empty plain yogurt cup into the wrong recycling bin by accident, and he felt terrible about it afterward.

Kaminari

real talk, Kaminari could very easily kill a ton of people with his quirk if he actually tried. but he hasn’t, because he is only two and is too busy learning his shapes and colors and leaving his lego duplo blocks all over the carpet for other people to trip on.

Kirishima

do I even have to justify this at all. duh Kirishima doesn’t murder people sorry to anyone who came into this post all excited to read a big paragraph going off about Kiri’s raw bloodlust. I don’t know what you expected.

Kouda

Kouda is probably deadlier than everyone thinks. imagine him commanding, say, a mob of giant hornets to swarm and kill someone. it’s a good thing he wouldn’t actually hurt a fly.

Satou

I sat here for a while thinking about what I could say about Satou. but just. can you picture him killing a guy? nah, me neither.

Shouji

one of the things I like about Shouji is that he looks older than he is, and kind of creepy, what with the masked face and the freaky tentacle arms and all the like. and so he very likely experienced some of that good old fashioned quirk racism growing up, and people were afraid of him and/or thought he would become a villain. but instead he decided to become a hero. and I think that says so much about Shouji’s character. it reminds me a lot of Shinsou; his desire to become a hero was so strong that he overcame prejudice and circumstances which could just have easily have led to him becoming a villain (and in fact, it’s not all that different from some of the actual villain backstories). anyway so yeah no murder for him.

Jirou

I think she would consider killing anyone who ever hurt Momo or Kami, but aside from that NO because she is a good pure girl who loves music and rocking out and putting smiles on people’s faces.

Sero

poor Sero is so not-murdery that when he does get pitted against someone with more murdery energy such as Todoroki, he basically gets immediately overwhelmed and everyone is just kind of wincing and then timidly applauding him and saying “good try.” that’s Sero’s life. he would just sit there and get murdered rather than going in for the kill. he’s a good bro.

Mineta

needs several restraining orders filed against him, but wouldn’t actually kill someone.

Momo

well one time she did explode a grenade in Aizawa’s face. but no.

Awase

now we have come to the 1-B kids. I will give brief descriptions in case you, like me, sometimes have trouble remembering their names. so, Awase! the welding, Momo-rescuing one. he is not murdery.

Sen

the rotating limbs one. one of the least murdery kids in the fairly murderous 1-B on account of his quirk is just too ridiculous. sorry Sen.

Kuroiro

the Tokoyami one. more likely to bore you to tears talking about death than actually kill someone. which is too bad because he honestly would make a pretty bitching assassin.

Kendou

would say she’s probably in the top fifteen. god I love her quirk so much. just want her to slap some bitches to death. but she probably wouldn’t.

Shishida

the growly monster one. he does get some bonus points for tending to lose control once he goes full beastmode and werewolfs out. and he is fairly deadly.

Shouda

the roly poly double smashy one. it’s actually only a matter of time before Shouda kills someone, most likely. his quirk is way too dangerous, and the thing is, it’s probably hard for him to tell how dangerous a particular impact is going to be beforehand. one of these days it’s gonna be way stronger than he intends and somebody’s neck is gonna get snapped.

Pony

never forget that time Pony stabbed Ojiro and Shouji like a dozen times and everybody was just cool with it.

Tsuburaba

the air platform one. he did try to suffocate Kouda that one time.

Tetsutetsu

only if he’s fighting Shouto. or teamed up with Shouto. then all bets are off as to whether or not he’s going to drill his superheated steel fist right through somebody’s face.

Tokage

the severed limbs one. she just has kind of a murdery vibe to her. stalking everyone with her various body parts. yuuugh. I bet if she did kill someone nobody would ever be able to prove it was her.

Manga

the speech bubble head one. is going to destroy so much public and private property once he’s set loose on the streets. but no deaths.

Bondo

the glue one. and nah, Bondo is cool.

Koudai

the Ant-Man one. doesn’t strike me as particularly murderous, I even went and reread her part of the joint training arc to confirm it. she’s fine.

Rin

the kung fu dragon one. not especially murdery. overall probably one of the least bloodthirsty in class 1-B in fact.

Shiozaki

the vines one. she’s extremely murdery. I can’t be the only one who thinks that, can I? Shiozaki scares the shit out of me. if I were Kaminari I would have nightmares about her.

Monoma

would murder every single member of class 1-A if he could. would be the criminal in a Detective Conan two-parter. would give a long monologue about always being the side character and never in the starring role until one day he finally couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. why does his hero costume make it look as though he’s going to steal a bunch of famous jewels out from under everyone’s noses. nah but I’m just kidding and Monoma would never actually kill someone. but one day he’s probably going to be framed for murder by a villain and Kendou and Shinsou will have to team up to defend him and catch the real culprit.

10. Yanagi

the creepy pale ghost-girl-looking one. contrary to what you are probably all thinking, her high ranking isn’t just because of her general horror film vibe, but also because she attempted to bludgeon Mina to death during the joint battle arc. but also yes it is because of her general horror film vibe.

9. Kamakiri

the stabby one. he’s up here because I’m pretty sure he tried to kill Jirou that one time. like what was he even gonna do if Bakugou hadn’t stepped in. though to be fair I don’t think he actually had his knives out at the time so maybe he was just gonna elbow her in the face or something idk.

8. Bakugou

I agree with you that Bakugou is much more bark than bite, anon. and not only is he remarkably careful and precise with his quirk and good at avoiding any collateral damage (and even better IMO ever since his supplementary training), I think that due to his various struggles with being perceived as a villain and also trying to find his own understanding of what being a hero means, he’s probably more self-aware than most of the other kids at this point when it comes to matters of “is this morally okay.” so in spite of his generally violent demeanor, I very much doubt he ever would or could actually kill someone. but he’s in the top ten because his high shounen protagonist levels do place him in the “would potentially go apeshit if and when something happened to someone he cares about” category, though. and also because he and Deku did basically attempt to disintegrate Nine, and then when Nine just dropped off the face of the earth afterwards, no one even bothered to wonder what had happened to him. which leads me to wonder if Deku and Katsuki straight up assume they did in fact kill him and just dgaf.

7. Deku

see above re: Nine. and also he may have to kill AFO one day. so while he probably wouldn’t be happy about it, I think he could still potentially do it. and also because he absolutely does lose his gotdamn mind every time someone hurts one of his friends, and especially Kacchan, and I could picture him just snapping if something really awful ever actually did happen. I don’t think it would in canon because it’s just way too dark, but I don’t think it’d be out of character if he did.

6. Iida

literally tracked down the villain who attacked his brother with the full intent of personally killing said villain once he got his hands on him. true, Shouto and Deku talked him out of it in the end, but still. that was some real motherfucking killing intent. also I will never forget the image of this kid sitting his ass down in middle of the woods and mutilating his own goddamn body without any anesthesia. listen, everyone. just please, for your own safety, do not fuck with Iida.

5. Shouto

and now we reach the top five. listen, feel free to disagree, but I stand firm in my belief that out of all the non-traitor and non-demon-possessed children in class 1-A, Todoroki Shouto is absolutely the most likely to straight up just kill a bitch one day. this boy froze a man from the inside out until a tower of fucking ice was jutting out of his fucking throat, and was all “go ahead and hibernate for a while” like excuse me, THE FUCK. and the thing is, this wasn’t just a one-time occurrence either; he literally pulls this kind of shit ALL THE TIME. froze an entire fucking building with his classmates in it and was all “feel free to bring it on but fighting without the soles of your feet will be painful.” heh. what the fuck. and do you all remember when he fought Sero and was in a bad mood so he iced half the fucking stadium. nearly killed a few people right then and there. “I got carried away.” whaaaaaaat. and I could go on and on; he nearly burned poor Shindou alive, and basically the entirety of chapter 205 could have been submitted as evidence in a court of law had that training battle against Tetsutetsu gone only slightly differently. basically Shouto is an entirely too realistic portrayal of a very sweet but marginally unstable boy with a completely broken power and a shitload of unresolved personal trauma which he is still working through.

4. Honenuki

somehow more murdery than Todoroki “HIBERNATE!!” Shouto. this is entirely because of chapter 205, formerly the most murdery chapter of the entire series, and dethroned only by the recent chapter 266 for obvious reasons. anyway so during the joint training battle, Honenuki bludgeoned Todoroki in the back of the head and would probably have let his unconscious body slump into the softened ground to drown had Iida not saved him. he then proceeded to drop a water tower on top of the both of them. a whole-ass water tower. this was a fucking training exercise. and Honenuki was the only one who kept his calm throughout the entirely of said exercise. and he was praised for his calm murdering skills afterward. because he was fucking awesome tbh. anyway but the point is this is supposed to be a hero school not an assassin school but I’m not really sure anymore you guys.

3. Tokoyami

my man would have straight up killed Moonfish in that forest and sure did try his best. he’s got the same issue as Todoroki in that his quirk is as powerful as it is unstable. and while he himself is not murdery, when Dark Shadow loses control, though… hooooh boy. I was gonna add something about him also interning under Takami “literally stabbed my friend in the neck for the greater good” Keigo, but I think that makes them both come off as more sinister than they actually are. I do think a big part of Tokoyami’s story is him overcoming his inner darkness and wresting control of it and mastering it, so I don’t think it’s very likely that he actually will kill someone in the story. but he’s got a murdery side, no two ways about it.

2. Toadette

straight up filled Tokoyami’s windpipe with mushrooms during a training exercise. he uses that to breathe, fyi. she then offered him a lozenge afterward. do not fuck with Toadette. do not. just don’t.

1. Hagakure

last but not least! Hagakure “hasn’t killed anyone officially but is also definitely the traitor” Tooru! y’all know how it is! I’m committed to this theory! I’d even be willing to put money on a reveal scene where she does just straight up kill someone, and that’s our cliffhanger establishing that the traitor is none other than! and this is coming up sooner than you might think too, guys. Horikoshi brought up the traitor again relatively recently during the Christmas Eve chapter, and that kind of foreshadowing isn’t for nothing. anyways I’m here for it though so bring on that body count you funky little turncoat.

so there you have it. my not-that-definitive definitive ranking of classes 1-A and 1-B by murderous inclination. there’s really not that much rhyme or reason to it tbh but this was fun, thank you anon!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #class 1-a #class 1-b #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #heroes rising spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #bnha meta #bnha ranking

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autumnslance · 5 years

Note

Hey, I'm gonna need you to give us a short story with Thancred teaching Aeryn how to gunbreaker now, specifically through dueling and close melee range.

((You’re just trying to enable me and get some trope-ridden, indulgent fic posted, huh? Well joke’s on you buddy, I already have a tropey, indulgent draft, though it’s from Heavensward patch era, featuring grumpy Thancred, amused Midgardsormr, and definitely a sparring match. Now on Ao3. So is the follow up.))

——-

“You’re avoiding me,” Aeryn said before Thancred could walk away.

“No,” he answered. “I have been busy. As have you. All of us, preparing for Ser Aymeric’s grand tournament.”

“Then let’s prepare,” she said. “Spar with me.”

“Perhaps later–”

She crossed her arms and glared. “Why? You’re lounging, so please don’t tell me you’re currently busy. I also checked with Tataru.”

Thancred closed his mouth to bite back the ready reply. “Why do you need to spar anyway? We all know you are going to win. ‘Tis what you do.”

She caught the bitterness he tried to hide. “Not always,” she answered. They did not look at each other for a long moment. “Anyroad, I shouldn’t get complacent. And you’re the best sparring partner.”

“Am I?” he asked. There might have been a hint of acid in his tone.

“None better. Absolute taskmaster.”

He snorted and pushed off the wall he was leaning on. “Well fine, if you’re going to be flattering.”

They made their way through the gates and across the Steps of Faith, the wind whipping at their clothes and hair. Aeryn watched him.

“What?” He asked.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. “After so many years in Thanalan, and you tend to wear lighter gear–”

“No,” Thancred said after a moment. “It is rather refreshing actually. And desert nights are chilly in their own way. Though I admit, I would not say no to an afternoon lounging in Vesper Bay’s square over crossing this bridge.”

“With overpriced orange juice from the Pissed Peiste?”

He did not reply, though for a moment it looked as if he might. He must have remembered he was angry, and wished to forgo banter. Aeryn suppressed a sigh.

“The tournament will be happening around here,” Thancred said as they reached the open plain beyond the Steps. The road stretched east and up toward Camp Dragonhead, clouds gathering over distant Xelphatol beyond the hills. Down to the west, she could barely make out the glint of Whitebrim’s towers.

“You will want to have a good idea of the ground,” he continued, crouching and peering across the open space. “Wouldn’t do to fall face first at some private’s feet because you tripped over a chinchilla’s burrow.”

“I think there’s a detail coming out to grade the area later today,” she said, drawing her rapier. “But that will just make it easier.”

“Hrmph.” He stood again, stretching as he did, then swinging his arms. “No doubt. Still; let us forgo magic for now. I want to see how you have worked on your swordsmanship these past few moons.”

“You’re sure you’re not cold?”

“I am limbering up,” he said, tone as cool as the air.

Aeryn shrugged. If he wanted to be that way. She was about to start her own stretches when Thancred suddenly dashed at her, blades drawn, making her bring her own up to meet them and immediately putting her on the defensive, forcing her back a few steps.

“Do your enemies announce when they’re ready?” He snarled, testing her defenses. He was mostly using his long Allagan blade, but she kept an eye on his smaller off-hand weapon; he had changed how he fought during his time in the wilderness.

Before, he had fought with a single sword, or matched short blades. His style had been flamboyant, even to the point of showing off, as a way to obfuscate his strikes and baffle his foes. As he pushed Aeryn across the clearing, she noted he still fought with flair and panache not found in most combatants–yet seemed more direct, less reliant on feints and misdirection than in the past. There was nothing wasteful in his movement, for all they flowed like a dance.

She could admit she was a bit envious.

And still on the back foot, godsdammit. She tried a parry Haurchefant had taught her, and gained back a few steps. A few quick strikes practiced with Lucia put Thancred on the defensive, and she caught him briefly grin.

“Mayhap your flirting across Coerthas has done you well after all,” he said, a sharp edge to the teasing.

“What?” Aeryn demanded. How dare he, he knew her better than—

The Echo’s warning came a moment too late as he spun away from her riposte, running his blade along the length of hers until with a flick of his wrist, her sword was caught, her arm twisted back as he stepped behind her, his offhand coming up to rest lightly against her throat.

“You’re easily distracted,” his voice rumbled low in her ear.

Aeryn turned her head to retort, but the words stuck when their eyes met and she was suddenly, intensely aware of being pressed against him, back to chest, their breathing heavy from the exercise and nearly in time with one another. They were close to the same height–he was only perhaps two ilms taller–so their faces were close, his brown eye strangely hooded and his lips were right there as he leaned in and gods why was she even thinking that…

They were close enough she could taste his breath, their lips barely brushing. Her eyes closed of their own accord, in anticipation of further pressure.

“…No,” he breathed, and she was suddenly spun, like when they used to dance to entertain the other Scions in that time Before Ul’dah.

Aeryn and Thancred stood in the snow, staring at one another. “That’s enough for today,” he said brusquely. “If you stay focused, you should do well enough against the Grand Companies.”

“Thancred…”

He turned away. “I apologize; that was an inappropriate distraction.”

She stared at his back for a long moment. Before he could turn his head to look, she cleared her throat. “Nothing to apologize for,” Aeryn said shortly. “All’s fair, as they say.”

“…Quite,” he replied, though sounded strange. “I believe I am rather cold after all, and will retire to the Forgotten Knight for some of Gibrillont’s mulled wine.”

She waited for him to add more, to invite her along, to offer to discuss whatever the seven hells that had been, but he walked on toward the gate. To be fair, though, she couldn’t quite manage to make those offers herself.

Aeryn watched him go, then continued to practice; not as effective as with a partner, but better than nothing, and she wouldn’t be returning to the city with him and the continued air of awkwardness.

“Thou art restless,” Midgardsormr’s voice rumbled from her left. Aeryn paused, looking over to see the small dragonet form of the ancient wyrm sitting upon a nearby stone.

“There is much to prepare for tomorrow,” she answered, returning to her drills.

“Yet there is spare time for courtship rituals?”

Aeryn fumbled mid-maneuver, nearly dropping her rapier. She blinked at him. “What? No! That was…we were sparring. Practicing, for tomorrow’s tournament.”

The dragonet tilted his head. “‘Tis not what it appeared, but mortals are strange.”

She only grunted a response and returned to her ready stance. Feint, riposte, zwerchhau…

“He is strong and skilled,” Midgardsormr continued, in a musing tone. “As I recall, such qualities are sought after, as mortals require physical mating to pass on–

“Midgardsormr,” Aeryn hissed–after stumbling again, her face on fire.

He flapped his tiny wings, and she swore he was grinning. “I was but making an observation, child, and musing on the differences between thy kin and mine own. Draconic mating is a melding of mind and spirit, rather than the flesh.”

“I am aware,” Aeryn said tightly, trying to not snap at the Father of Dragons. This was not helping take her mind off that almost-kiss. She was certain, too, the elder knew that.

There was a shift in the dragonet’s stance, and his deep black eyes now watched her closely, the hint of mirth faded. “Thou hath enjoyed the man’s companionship in the past.’Twould seem since his return, you have been at odds.”

Aeryn sheathed her blade; she was getting no further exercise in today. “…Yes,” she finally answered him. “‘Twould seem that way. I…failed to save the person he entrusted to my care, and then I failed to bring her back.”

Midgardsormr shook his head. “She but followed thy Mother’s call, and made her own choice. There was naught for thee to do upon the matter. Thou shouldst not blame thyself–Nor bear blame from others.” The last came with a slight warning growl.

“I…I don’t know if he does or not,” she admitted. “We’ve worked together, and he was honestly concerned when I was poisoned…And…” Her back pressed to his chest, his eye looking into hers, their lips not even an ilm apart. “…I’m likely imagining things, that’s all.”

That had to be it. A simple distraction, as he had said. She mustn’t read into it.

“Hrmph,” Midgardsormr rumbled. “How thy people have propagated when capable of such self-delusion is one of life’s great mysteries.”

She glowered at him. “Which of us is the expert at mortals, actually being one? You’re mistaken. Thancred is known for his flirtations and distractions; that is all it was. Naught more.”

The dragonet stretched, and made a motion almost akin to a shrug. “Thy protestations are noted,” he responded, before fading out in a puff of aether.

Aeryn rubbed her forehead. She could still sense his rumbling chuckle in the back of her mind. Once she was more or less composed–or at least no longer felt as if her face would set fire to the Gates of Judgment when she passed through them–she made her way back to the city.

—

What in the seven bloody hells had he been thinking?

Thancred ran a hand over his face as he nursed his mulled wine. The problem, of course, was that he had not been thinking. Caught in the rhythm of their sparring match, he had reacted on instinct, and she was right there and…

Inappropriate, he reminded himself. For so very many reasons. He knew at one point he had had a list, the first time he had bucked this ridiculous notion of an interest in the woman who had become their Warrior of Light.

There was one; the champion of the realm could certainly do better than a grizzled, magicless rogue.

There was another; since his misadventure in the Lifestream and being left in Dravania’s wilderness without magic, he now looked and felt closer to his actual age of thirty-two winters. Still young enough to do his job, but it seemed a decent gap against her twenty-six. She was even younger than–

That thought made him slug down a too-large gulp of too-hot wine. It helped focus the pain and gave an excuse for the tears threatening to appear as he coughed, waving away the bartender.

Aeryn had looked him in the eye and nodded when he had told her “whatever it takes” and yet…

That was not fair, and not part of the list, though he couldn’t help the anger, the grief, the shame at lying to F'lhaminn.

He retired to the small room in Cloud Nine that Tataru had rented for him. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling, he found his mind wandering back to the sparring match. How Aeryn felt pressed against him, how she smelled, how her grey eyes had darkened and then closed as their lips nearly touched…Godsdammit.

He could always blame spending time alone in the wilderness for how easily distracted he was by a pretty woman, colleague or not.

That Aeryn had seemed willing did not help; it would have been easier if she had pushed him away, cursed at him, reminded him that she did not experience such base attractions. A voice whispered that did not negate a desire for intimacy, and there were those rumors of her and the knight. He told that voice to shut up as he rolled over. But his imagination continued, conjuring images of furthering that kiss, of pressing closer, his fingers tangling in her fine black hair, the taste of her…

The aftertaste of mulled wine on his own tongue remembered the bite he had smelled in the fallen cup at Falcon’s Nest, her lying on the floor as chaos reigned outside, and the feeling of his heart in his throat at the idea of Aeryn poisoned.

Perhaps that was why he was in such a strange mood, he decided. Fear for his friend’s life, even as he was still grieving Minfilia.

Satisfied, he turned his mind to a mummer’s breathing exercise, a trick to fall asleep quickly, forcing his mind to still so he could rest.

—-

((There’s a lemony solo-Thancred follow-up to this too.))

#Final Fantasy XIV #Heavensward #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #Midgardsormr #Lyn Writing #Shippy Nonsense #Aeryn Striker #tension #mutual pining #Dragon Dad is the best #hope this satisfies #and hope the read more works #temperjoke

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bewitchingwitch · 5 years

Text

Great Gatsby au pt. 2

Hey guys sorry for not posting lately I’ve been super busy! But school is gonna let out soon and I’ll be able to update a lot more :) so I hope you enjoy the second part to my Great Gatsby au a reader x Theseus fic

Word count: 2,802

Warning: mentions of smut

The fireworks burst over the mansion in array of colors. Everyone cast there eyes upward to see the light from them shimmer down. A chorus of oohs and ahh's mingled among the crowd. But your eyes remained in the balcony where Jay Gatsby has been standing a moment ago. Theseus kept his eyes on you watching the blues and pinks form the fireworks highlight your skin in a warm glow.

He thought about how breathtaking you looked in this lighting and how he had been in love with you from the moment he saw you at that memorable quidditch game. How he had spent basically the last decade watching you gallivanting around with other men.

Coming by your apartment in the morning with breakfast only to find some random guy stumbling out of your apartment in only his trousers, pulling his shirt over his head. And Theseus would turn to go home because those moments were the hardest.

He needed to talk to you about his feelings because as he watched you stare up at the balcony he knew that if he didn't someone else would take his place. Gatsby was all that was swarming in your mind.

He watched you make a move forward. You darted straight into the crowd of people that blocked the stairway. Theseus tried to grab onto you and nearly missed your hand. But he secured it and pulled you back, you stumbled into his chest.

"What's the rush?" Your face heated up as you let yourself enjoy the moment of having your face pressed against his warm chest. He swayed slightly to the music, he had his hands placed on your hips and you could feel them ever so slowly sliding their way down lower.

"We need to find Jay Gatsby, you know the drill." You looked up with your big doe eyes. He started at you watching your (y/e/c) eyes reflect the colors that surrounded you.

"Well yes but no one said we couldn't have a little fun." He pressed himself closer to you and twirled you around slowly. The music was fast pace and you weren't with the tempo of it but you didn't care. His cologne was so strong and you were so close together it felt as if you were the only two standing in the room.

You forced yourself to snap out of the moment and push slightly away. You felt his grip loosen. "We're on a mission Theseus not a date." You said with a slight edge in your voice.

Theseus have you a hurt expression but he quickly covered it. "Fine. But it seems as if your mind is on something else other than just taking Gatsby in for interrogation."

"What?" You asked surprised.

Theseus pursed his lips and titled his head up, his eyes still stayed on you. He took his arms away from you and crossed them over his chest. "I think you fancy Gatsby."

You rolled your eyes, but heat still consumed your face. "Theseus that is-"

"Absolutely true." He cut you off.

You looked up at him. Why was he getting so defensive? So what if you liked the way Gatsby looked. It was hard not to. "Why don't you like Gatsby?"

"I never said I didn't like him."

"Well you're acting like you despise the man when you never even met him." You cross your arms over your chests mimicking Theseus' stance.

"And you're defending a man you don't even know. One who is a criminal in bootlegging alcohol and one who is known to be a womanizer." He spat at you. You took a step back, never in your entire time of knowing him had Theseus talked to you like this. With coarse words and distaste. He never lost his temper with you and you knew something was off with him tonight but you just couldn't place it.

"I know what he's described as being. And so what if I "fancy him" we're not here for me to snog him or for us to fix his morals. We're on a mission and I'm going to get the job done whether you help or not." You turned on you heel before even seeing his reaction.

You didn't know if he was calling out your name, it was too loud to hear anything around you. You pushed past people to get to the stairs that led to the balcony. You would mutter a few excuse me's but it was all lost in the noise of it all. You didn't turn back you figured he would probably follow you; he always did. He never wanted you to get hurt.

As you walked in long strides you glanced around you noticing the number of women that had shown up in warring nothing but their bras and panties which covered basically nothing. Theseus' words came flodding back to you, one who is known to be a womanizer. You noticed that theses women too had wandering eyes as if they too were looking for Gatsby.

One girl who was wearing red lingerie and a big feathery headdress let her eyes wander over to Theseus. She licked her delicately painted lips and swayed her hips as she walked over to him. She was nearly his height with her enormous heels on, she didn't even need to tip toe to whisper in his ear like you did. She draped an arm around him and leaned in whispering something into his ear. You felt jealousy squeezing tight into your heart. He remained expressionless as she ran a hand through the back of his hair. He kept his eyes locked on you. You turned a light shade of red.

You quickly turned away you didn't want to see her undress him with her eyes. You still prayed that he'd follow you although by now he was probably sliding her panties down her legs and taking her the way you always dreamed he'd do to you. Running his calloused hand over the curves of her breasts. You'd shook your head in hopes of getting rid of those revolting thoughts from your mind.

You made your ways to the top of the stairs and stood at the top of the balcony gripping the rail. You turned behind you and noticed that Theseus wasn't there. You were naive to believe that he’d follow you after the way you spoke to him. And after that girl had made a move on him. Of course he wouldn't tag along he would be with that girl.

Speaking to him like that was surreal. You never raised your voice at him and come to think of it you'd only ever seen him raise his voice at work. When he was on the phone or with unmanageable employees. As soon as he'd see you though he'd regain his usual cool composer. Pushing back his hair, a few curls always escaped the gel when he got riled up, straighten his tie. Then if he was on the phone he'd cover it and tell you it was just a little spat. If you had walked in on him yelling he'd lower his voice and talk to the employee through clenched teeth in a stained tone until you left. Once you were a couple paces past his door you'd hear him yell at the employe again.

It always made you giggle to yourself. The fact that he not only never wanted to seem cruel to you by raising his voice but wouldn't even want to raise his voice in your presence.

Even on the days when you were completely insensible and would yell at him. He would just sit there and take it because he knew he wasn't the cause of your distress. He knew that you were probably having a rotten day and just needed someone to be a sounding board for you. Even though he could yell back because it would be completely justified he didn't. So he sat there and took it because, unknown to you, he loved you.

You leaned on the rail and looked out into the crowd. You saw him and noticed that the skimpy girl was no longer wrapped around him. She was a couple feet away with a huffy expression. Theseus stood alone in the middle of the floor, he had a glass of champagne in his hand, his eyes still looking with this longing gaze at you. You were so mesmerized by his stare that you didn't notice someone had come to stand behind you.

"It's a wonderful view isn't it." A warm breath tickled your neck and you jumped in surprise.

Jay Gatsby was standing behind you. "No need to be frightened baby I don't bite." His American accent was charming, he gave you a toothy grin as he moved to stand next to you, leaning against the rail with his hands in his pockets.

"What if I bite?" You questioned.

"Feisty. I love that in girl. I like the ones that don’t fall for charm so easily." He moved a little closer.

"What does your charm usually work on most women?" Your face was dusted in a light pink.

"Usually." He bit his lip. "But you seem to be the exception miss."

"Well its a pleasure to be the first to do so. " You batted your eye lashes at him.

"May I ask your name."

"It's (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Does that usually work."

"It has so far but I see all my typical tricks aren't gonna work on you. Pleasure to meet you (y/n) I'm-"

"Jay Gatsby." You cut him off. "I know who you are. Me and my boyfriend were looking into getting into your bootlegging business."

His eyes brows crinkled together as a scowl settled into his features. "You have a boyfriend." He said it like a statement not like a question. He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing server. He handed one to you.

"Yes. But he's not so good at," You paused to take a sip of your drink. "keeping me satisfied. If you know what I mean." You played your role so well it had Gatsby fooled.

"I believe I do." He placed his hand on yours. "It's a bit loud at here don't you think? Why don't we go some where," he leaned in brushing your hair back to whisper in your ear, private." You nodded

You looked into the crowd, Theseus was still watching you. He raised his glass up to you as fireworks exploded behind him. A soft sad smile played at the corners of his lips. He then took a sip. That was all you saw before Gatsby led you away from the noise.

********************************************

Theseus watched you disappear into the darkness with Gatsby. He made his way to the bar, you knew what you were doing you could take care of your self. He tried to convince himself that you were seducing Gatsby for the mission not because you actually wanted to get into bed with him.

He ordered a drink from an older man, he slid the glass down the bar and Theseus took it giving the bar tender a nod in response. He fiddled with his glass watching the liquid swish back and forth.

He shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. But he couldn’t bear to see you with one more guy. Especially someone like Gatsby who he knew could be the one that could con you into a life with him. You were meant to be with him. He thought about all the things you would do together and how you were practically already a couple, expect without certain benefits.

Theseus would come over to hang out Friday nights. His favorite day of the week, in which you guys would go out to dinner or to the cinema. It would make him feel like you two were actually going out on a date.

He would get all dressed up and bring flowers over. He looked forward to it and you would dress up. You would put on your best dress and heels. You both would walk down the streets of London together or wherever you wanted to go, if you wanted to travel you guys would just apparte there.

Hand in hand and people would comment on how cute of a couple you where and when you wouldn’t correct those people he would feel like maybe there was a chance that you liked him back. When you’d blush and say yes he’s a good boyfriend and he treats me well.

He needed to tell you. It had been practically a decade that he had silently suffered by your side. Playing the best friend, trying to pretend that he didn’t care when you flirted with other men. How you’d lick your lips or lean over on their desk so they could see down your shirt.

It was worse when he caught you in the act. Although it was just once. He’d never been able to get the memory out of his head. He had come to surprise you with dinner on your way home from work. He had a key to your apartment and it was Friday night he didn’t think about knocking. Because it was his night when you guys were supposed to go out. He dropped off the food he had brought on the counter. He had gone to your favorite restaurant in London and brought your favorite food. It was about a year or so, he had been planning on telling you about how he felt that night.

He closed the door behind him and placed the food on the counter. He shrugged off his jacket he called out your name but heard no response. He twirled the keys on his hand. He figured you were probably in your room. He walked in with out thinking. “Hey (y/n) I just brought over some-“ he stopped talking. He had just walked in on you riding some guy from work. Your breasts were on full display for him.

When you saw him you screamed and turned a bright red telling him to get out. Trying to cover yourself with the blanket from the bed. He quickly shut the door and left your apartment, all thoughts about confessing to you pushed back to the very back of his mind.

The only thing that consumed it was the memory of you riding that guy. And now as he drank more and more the memory care rushing back to him. He’d never been able to get the memory out of his head. They way you moaned so lowly and then slowly got louder. The way you’d encourage the guy mumbling yeah yeah right there and praising him every time he hit that spot. The way your tits bounced up and down every time you would plop back down onto that guys dick. The way you back arched and your body was covered in a glow of sweat. You were an absolute goddess.

He could only imagine what it would be like to having you riding him. And he knew he had no right to think about you in that way. But at times like this when he was slightly drunken or when he was totally wasted and would stumble home this thought would consume him. How it feel to have you ride him mumbling praise and screaming his name. The fact that he’d get to touch you in places he only ever gotten to in dreams. How great it would be to kiss you with so much passion, to see you at work covered in love bites from the previous nights dirty deeds.

He shook his head trying to clear his mind of theses thoughts. Theseus downed the rest of his drink. He needed to tell you before Gatsby found his way to his bedroom and slid your sparkly dress down your ankles. He needed to find you and tell you how he felt.

Because after all this time it wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just that he wanted you as if you were some prize to be won. He loved you. And he couldn’t stand to watch you love any more men. Because you were meant to be with him.

He pushed away from the bar and began to walk briskly towards the stairs talking them two at a time when he reached them. He only prayed that it wasn’t too late and he’d catch you and Gatsby. Because he knew that if he did there was a chance he could never win you back. There was a chance that for once you might not come back to him.

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#fantastic beats and where to find them #theseus scamander #theseus x you #newt and theseus #theseus fanfiction #theseus fluff #theseus and newt #theseus x reader #theseus imagine #crimes of grindleward #fan fiction #great gatsby au #1920s #crimes of grindelwald #my writing #late night #party #gatsby party band

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trysomecats · 5 years

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(Equation of a Lie anon) It was 1D and I'm pretty sure it was like Louis being a sub and failing a math test and then lying about it. Then his doms make him quit soccer?? Sorry if that's way vague it's been a while 😅😅 Also thank you for answering, you're super sweet!

Ah, yes, now I remember! I did remove that fic off of ao3 (for personal reasons) However, I have no problem with posting it on Tumblr, so here you go!:The Equation of a Lie

Summary: Louis’ grade in mathematics is slowly declining. If he doesn’t do something about it soon, his doms will make him quit the footie team. When he fails a major test, he keeps it from his doms, planning on retaking it behind their backs to save his grade. Unfortunately not everything goes to plan.

“Now, I have your tests to hand back. Most of you did very well, the class average was beyond exceptional. However, if you feel that you did poorly, you are more than welcome to talk to me and make arrangements to retake the test on Monday. After you all receive your tests, class is dismissed.”

Louis felt himself sigh internally with relief. Hopefully he counted as ‘most’ of the class. To be honest he hadn’t studied as much for this test as he should have. Maths was never his strong point, not to mention it was terribly boring. It also didn’t help that the professor, Mr. Winston, was a major ass.

Unfortunately when Louis received his test, his stomach dropped when he saw what his grade was.

One of the biggest expectations Harry and Nick had for him was to get good grades. School was important, they’d explained to him, especially university. This math class was the only class that he didn’t share with one or both of his doms. Naturally he’d slacked off a bit, knowing he wasn’t under their watchful eyes. His notes become shorter and careless, as did his studying.

Now, however, he was experiencing the consequences of his behavior. They would surely make him temporarily quit the footie team until he could bring up his grade, or worse make him stay off the team permanently as punishment. It was hard to tell, because Louis had only been their sub since June, four months ago. They were strict, but only when need be. Louis tried his best to behave for them, even if his new lifestyle was taking some getting used to. He hadn’t been planning on finding his soulmates so soon in life, but apparently fate decided differently.

Louis hid the test in the very back of his folder. He waited for most of the class to retreat before going up to his professor’s desk.

“Um, Mr. Winston?”

“Hmm?” The professor looked up. “Ah, Louis. I’m guessing you want to retake the test?”

“Yes please,” Louis nodded hurriedly, glancing at the clock. His doms would get here pretty quickly, and he didn’t want them to overhear the conversation. “You said I can retake it on Monday?”

“That’s right, you can just stay and take it after class. First we can go over any questions you have beforehand. You should look over your test this weekend though, and make notes of what you did incorrectly. Try to figure out the problems yourself.”

“Right,” Louis said quickly when he caught sight of his doms approaching the doorway. “Well, thank you Professor, have a good weekend!”

“Louis,” Professor Winston said sternly, halting the boy in his tracks. “Make sure you get that test signed by your doms as well, alright?”

“Y-Yes Professor,” Louis said, feeling like a rock had fallen into his stomach, and also getting a bit angry. Winston was always more unfair to subs than he was to doms. While it wasn’t considered uncommon for a professor to request a dom’s signature, it was still a rather dickish move.

Louis all but ran from the room, stopping at the sight of his doms. They had their hands entwined, looking at him with beaming smiles.

“Hi Love,” Harry kissed his cheek. “How was class?”

“Good!” Louis answered far too cheerfully. “Great, even.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where you answered so positively about a math class,” Nick said, taking his turn to kiss Louis’ cheek as well. “I take it that means you did well on the test?”

Louis swallowed, forcing a grin. “Yup! I guess all that studying paid off.”

“Just like we told you,” Harry said with a nod. “Hard work always pays off in the end. That’s why we’re so persistent, not because we’ve got sticks in our arses.”

The sub flushed, remembering a past argument with his doms in which they had withheld his phone until he’d finished his literature homework, prompting Louis to insult them in such a way as Harry had said. He’d lost his phone for a week and gone to bed with a sore bum that night.

“Well, it’s the weekend now anyway,” Louis reminded them. “We have two days to forget about school.”

“That’s right, was there anything special you wanted to do?”

“I was thinking,” Louis bit his lip as an idea came to mind. “Maybe I could see Niall? It’s been awhile since I’ve visited him.”

That wasn’t a lie at all; Niall wasn’t going to school right now, and Louis missed him dearly. He could visit his best friend, hang out for a bit, have him forge a signature for the test…it would be a good visit, really.

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Nick smiled at him. “I’m sure Niall will be thrilled to see you.”

…

Niall ended up being very thrilled to see Louis, that is until he found out the real reason for his friend’s visit.

“I don’t get it, why can’t you just show it to them? If you’re allowed to make it up, they shouldn’t be too mad…unless you muck up the second attempt, that is.”

“Niall, you don’t know Harry and Nick like I do. They’re very insistent that I keep up my marks. Besides, they’ll find out that I’ve not been studying as much as I should be, and that alone will screw me over.”

“But why do I have to sign your test?”

“Because,” Louis said, shoving a pen into his friend’s hand. “Professor Fuckface knows my handwriting too well, and I’m shit at impersonating anyway.”

“Alright fine,” Niall consented, ”Give your test here then.”

Louis left Niall’s feeling quite content and confident that he could keep this whole math fiasco under the wraps. So long as he studied hard and did well on the retake, everything would work out just fine.

“I just hope everything goes well,” Niall muttered once the test was signed. “I don’t want my doms finding out. They wouldn’t really approve of something like this.”

“Niall,” Louis tsked. “Nobody will find out. Even if they did, I wouldn’t tell who signed my test. You’re completely safe in this whole thing.”

“Okay, I guess that makes me feel better,” Niall said, his smile returning. “Want to play fifa now?”

Louis grinned. “Let’s do it.”

…

It was three days after retaking the test, on Thursday evening, when the test had once again made an appearance into his life, despite him thinking it was all over with. Footie practice had been from three to five, and now Louis was on his way home.

Nick or Harry would often come to watch the end of his practice and escort him home, but today neither one showed up. Louis didn’t think too much of it though, and even felt proud that his doms trusted him enough to make it home by himself. He was always telling them that it was pointless for them to come, seeing as their flat was just a block from the university.

His stomach was definitely ready for food, and he hoped that Harry was making something good tonight for dinner. It was usually ready by the time he got home from practice, so his mouth was already watering at the possibilities.

To top off his already good mood, tomorrow was Friday which meant the weekend was practically here. This weekend Louis wanted to do something special with his doms. Perhaps they could go to the city’s amusement park, or have a picnic on the beach.

“I’m back!” Louis called, dropping his sports bag to the floor and kicking his cleats off. He grinned at the smell that had taken over the apartment, as it was obvious that a pot roast was in the crock pot. That meant garlic potatoes, crisp buttered bread, and a caesar salad were also in the works.

“Hazza? Nick?” He called out, as nobody had rushed out to greet him like normal. The sub meandered through the hall and to the kitchen, seeing his guess had been correct, as dinner looked almost done. There was no Harry in sight though.

“Come join us in the living room Louis!” Harry’s voice finally called out from the living room. Louis grinned, exiting the kitchen at a hurried speed so that he could see his doms.

“Hi guys,” Louis pecked Nick’s cheek and gave Harry’s arm a squeeze. “What are you doing out here? Dinner smells so good Haz, I’m starving! Coach had us run such hard drills today, but I did really well…”

The sub trailed off a bit, especially when he realized that neither boy was smiling. “Um, is everything okay?”

He hadn’t misbehaved today, had he? Louis wracked his mind for anything that could have happened today. He’d done all of his morning chores, behaved during his classes, answered each text his doms had sent to his phone…he’d been good.

“It sounds like you had fun at footie practice,” Harry finally said, though his voice didn’t contain any warmth. “Which is good, seeing as you won’t be going back anytime soon.”

Louis still wasn’t comprehending what was going on. “Huh?”

Nick cocked his head to the space in between he and Harry. “Sit down, Louis.”

The sub did as he was told, now feeling a bit cautious. What on earth had his doms in such a somber mood, and what was with the comment about footie? “Is everything okay?”

“Everything was okay,” Nick told him. “That is, up until about an hour ago, when we received a call from your math professor.”

Louis felt his face go white.

“He had some very interesting news,” Harry continued from where Nick had left off. “You see, he called to inform us that you failed the test that you took on Monday…re-took, actually. He suggested you be set up with a tutor immediately, seeing as you’re on the verge of failing the class entirely.”

Louis’ lips were parted slightly as he stared back at his doms. His brain was trying to process a dozen thoughts and emotions at once. He had been sure that this second time taking the test had gone well! This was not good, not good at all.

“It’s quite peculiar actually,” Nick said. “Professor Winston was under the impression that we knew about your struggles with the material, seeing as he has your old test, apparently signed by the both of us….”

“I think we both know that neither Nick or I signed that test,” Harry’s voice was low. “So now, Louis, the floor is yours. We demand an explanation immediately.”

The sub resisted a squeak, his mouth feeling way too dry. His mind was whirling, trying to come up with something reasonable to say. Evidently he was already quite screwed.

“I- I thought I had it under control,” He soon blurted out. “It was- I studied some more, and I thought I would do better. I didn’t want anything to get in the way with foot-”

“Well it’s a very good thing that you won’t have to worry about that silly sports team any longer,” Nick said. “You’re going to leave your phone down here and go upstairs to the guest bedroom.”

“Nick and I are going to eat the delicious meal that I’ve prepared,” Harry continued. “You, meanwhile, will get dressed in your pajamas and stand in the corner of the bedroom. Right now!”

“Y-Yes Sirs,” Louis’ felt his voice waver as he rushed to do as he was told.

The sub was unable to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as he changed into pajama shorts and a t-shirt before heading to the guest bedroom. Nobody ever went in here much, as they all occupied the main bedroom. This room was more or less only used for isolation punishments.

Once he was in the corner, nose pressed against the wall, Louis cried quietly. He felt very remorseful of his actions. If only he had just informed his doms straight away about the first test…they would have been a little upset, but nothing like this. There were a lot of behaviors that his doms disapproved of, but lying and deception were probably the worst.

His stomach grumbled, because he could still smell the delicious pot roast downstairs, but he would not be having any of it. This was not at all how Louis had expected his evening would be going. He’d been thinking more along the lines of a yummy dinner, hot shower, and lots of cuddles and kisses.

Now Louis’ stomach churned. He had never done something like this before, so he was unsure of what his punishment would be. A spanking, most likely, and obviously no more footie for awhile.

No more footie…

Louis let out a choked sob.

Missing dinner wasn’t that big of a deal. The sub knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything anyhow.

…

After dinner, as promised, Harry and Nick came upstairs.

“Harry and I have been talking, and your punishment has been decided. Now Louis, we’ve had many chats about your role and rules as a sub. You’ve broken some of the more serious ones with your recent actions. You’ve lied and deceived us, about school of all things. And you know very well how seriously we take your education.”

The sub could only stare at the floor, ashamed.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. Tonight your bum is going to feel the full force of what happens when you deceive your doms. Tomorrow the three of us are going to have a nice long chat with your math professor. Afterwards, we’re going straight to your football coach. You’re going to tell him that you won’t be on the team for the remainder of the season, because you’ve been a very bad boy.”

“Please!” Louis cried out as he sniffled. “I’ll do anything, just don’t make me quit footie. Please don’t!”

“Kneel!” Nick said sharply, causing the sub to instantly collapse to his knees. “Playing sports is a privilege, and subs who lie get their privileges revoked. From now on you’re going to be in tutoring four days a week after school. Then you’re going to come home and do homework. When you’ve finished your homework, you’re going to quietly study. Up until you have perfect marks for every course, if we hear a word of complaint from you, your bum will turn a nice shade of red.”

“Is that clear?” Harry asked asked a few seconds later, when Louis only continued to sob.

“Y-Yes,” Louis managed to say. “Y-Y-Yes Si-irs.”

“One more thing, before we get started. Who signed your test?”

Louis moaned lowly, refusing to look up.

“That’s not an answer,” Nick said. “Was it you, or someone else? Don’t even think of trying to lie to us again.”

“Niall!” Louis bawled. “Was N-Niall!”

Nick nodded. “I thought as much. Well Lou, now you’ve even gotten your friend into trouble. I hope you understand now that there are always consequences that come with actions.”

Louis was still too distraught to say anything, so he continued to weep at the feet of his doms, remorseful and guilty. Now Niall would be in trouble with his own doms, and it was all his fault.

…

Louis slept in the guest bedroom that night, lying on his stomach with a bottom that was on fire. Neither Nick nor Harry went easy on the physical part of his punishment. They didn’t use any objects of course, but thirty spanks on his bare bum from each of his doms was more than a little painful in itself, excluding the additional fifteen smacks on his sitting spots at the very tops of his thighs.

He didn’t get cuddles either. Usually his post-spanking treatment bordered on being spoiled, with cuddles and warm milk and soothing aloe on his rear. Instead he’d been sent straight to bed.

Nick and Harry were very firm this time, making it clear that he wouldn’t be getting any sort of comfort until after he explained to his coach that he was leaving the team.

That hurt a lot more than the spanking did.

…

The next day was no doubt the most humiliating thing that Louis had ever gone through. Neither of his doms said much of anything to him, though Harry did serve him a plate of pancakes. There were no cute whipped cream faces on them though.

At school Louis squirmed through all of his classes, his poor bottom still tender from the night before. When math (his last class of the day) had finished, it was time for his doms to meet with Professor Winston.

“Good afternoon Professor,” Nick reached out to shake Winston’s hand, and Harry followed suit. “We’re here for the meeting scheduled in concern of our sub.”

The professor greeted them professionally. “Yes of course, have a seat.”

It was embarrassing, having to listen to his doms and professor talk about him as if he were incompetent. The only good thing was that Louis didn’t have to speak much, although he was fuming at everything Winston was saying to his doms.

“Louis has been declining for weeks now,” Winston drawled on. “Always looking out the window and doodling in his notebook. I can’t recall him ever raising his hand, not once.”

These words appeared to irk his doms, much to Louis’ satisfaction.

“If it’s been bad for this long, why haven’t you contacted us sooner?” Harry demanded to know.

“W-Well,” The professor’s cheeks reddened, caught in his words.

Needless to say, the meeting didn’t last long after that. Unfortunately now came the even worst part of the day, which would be paying a visit to his football coach.

…

“Um, James?”

Coach Cordon looked up from his clipboard, his face instantly brightening. “Louis, hi! What can I do for you? I know you’re eager, but practice isn’t for another hour.”

“R-Right,” Louis swallowed, praying that he wouldn’t break down in front of his coach.

James then noticed Louis’ doms. He was already well acquainted with them, seeing as Harry and Nick attended all of Louis’ games and even sometimes practices. “Hello boys. Excited for the big game coming up?”

Louis felt like he’d been punched in the gut. James and the rest of his team were counting on him for this game, which was coming up in just a few weeks. Him not playing would leave them all screwed.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m sure the game will go well. But James, Louis has something he needs to tell you.”

Harry’s solemn expression clued James in on the fact that some bad news was about to be heard. Louis, meanwhile, was biting his lip so hard that it was in danger of bleeding. He felt humiliated, being marched over here by his doms, like he was incapable of doing it by himself.

But that was a main point of this punishment, humiliation.

“I’m sorry James,” Louis took a deep breath, looking down because he was unable to look his coach in the face. “I can’t be on the team anymore. I was- I was bad. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh,” James sounded so disappointed. “You…You’re sure about this?”

Louis was quiet, until he felt a nudge. “Yes Coach. I’m sure.”

“Thank you for understanding James,” Nick said, resting a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “We should get going now. We wish your team the best of luck for the remainder of the season.”

Louis’ shoulders shook, chest tight as he tried to contain his silent sobs of despair. While some people might view it as something of little value, football meant everything to him, and to lose it was to lose a tremendous part of his life. It also hurt, knowing that his team had been counting on him, and he would be letting them down.

“I know that was hard,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around the distraught sub. “You were a very good boy today.”

Any other time Louis would have immediately sought comfort from his doms. Right now, however, he was too crushed to accept any sort of comfort, so he stood rigidly without returning the hug.

Louis maintained his distance the rest of the way home, planning to head straight up to bed and hide under the covers for awhile.

Nick caught him by the shoulder once they were inside their home. “Lou…”

“You said I was good, can’t I just be alone right now? I’ve got homework to do.”

They let him go, and had Louis looked back, he would have noticed their pained expressions.

…

Three weeks.

For three weeks now, Louis had been nothing but the perfect, studious sub. Through all his classes, Louis’ eyes never left his professors as he took diligent notes. Monday through Thursday, he would head straight to the tutoring center after his classes, where he would spend two hours working on math equations with the on hand tutors.

Once his tutoring was done, one of Louis’ doms would come to get him. Then would come the time for any additional homework from his other classes. Dinner would happen somewhere during this time, and afterwards Louis would simply study for any upcoming quizzes or tests before going to bed.

Nick and Harry weren’t mad at him anymore. They hadn’t been, really, since after the night they had found out about the test. That didn’t mean the punishment still wasn’t in effect, but the doms acted like everything else was normal.

Louis knew he had done wrong, he really did. Despite this, the sub couldn’t help but feel peeved about the situation. He would never be outwardly rude to his doms, but he still found other ways to make sure his feelings were known, mainly by acting distant while still retaining the politeness that was required of him.

“Louis,” Harry’s voice drew Louis away from his english essay, which he was putting the final touches on despite it being due almost two weeks from now. “What’ll it be tonight love, pasta or fajitas?”

The sub gave a small smile. “Whatever you’d like, Sir.”

Harry’s hand rubbed at his shoulder. “You don’t have a preference?”

“No Sir,” He answered, looking back at his computer screen, where his essay was on display.

The dom peered at the screen as well. “Is that your subculture essay? That’s not due till the sixteenth.”

Louis continued to type. “Yeah, m’just getting it done early.”

“Well,” Harry seemed to struggle with something. “Why don’t you take a break and help me with dinner, okay? It’ll give your eyes a break.”

Louis did so, both to appease his dom and due to the fact that Harry had been right about his eyes needing a break from the computer. Besides, normally on nights when Louis didn’t have footie, he would hang out in the kitchen with Harry while dinner was being made.

Harry had probably been missing that, just like Louis had been.

…

Later that night, after a dinner of fajitas, both of his doms asked to speak to him in the master bedroom.

Nick touched his cheek. “Harry and I have been talking, mostly about your punishment.”

Louis stared back at them silently as an indicator to go on.

“Well, you’ve pretty much caught yourself up in all of your courses now. You’ve even gone beyond our standards. Therefore, we both agree that this speaks loudly at the fact that you’ve handled your punishment very well.”

Harry touched the sub’s cheek. “To be honest, we also miss seeing your lovely smile. Louis love, you know why we had to punish you, right?”

“I do,” Louis nodded solemnly. “I hid my test from you, and then went behind your backs and lied.”

“Right,” Harry said. “I’m glad you understand. You’re no longer on any restrictions, so long as you maintain steady grades.”

“We also understand that outdoor footie season is almost over,” Nick added. “But winter signups for indoor footie are next week, and you have permission to join if you want.”

There were a lot of different emotions circulating in Louis’ head. While he was still upset at the fact that he’d had to miss the biggest game of the season, he was also ashamed of the way he’d handled his math test. Perhaps the consequences would have been less severe had he been open and honest.

He was also feeling very remorseful about dragging Niall into the situation. His friend had warned him, but Louis hadn’t listened. He was so desperate about staying on the team, but in the end that desperation was what put him in this situation.

This was the hardest Harry and Nick had ever been on him. It was clear that neither of them liked punishing him in such a way. Yes, they had been very angry the day they found out, but that anger had vanished by the next day. These past few weeks they had been nothing but loving, and it was Louis who had resisted that love.

Being a matched sub was still such a new concept for Louis. Sometimes it left him disgruntled, while other times it left him feeling like the happiest person alive. No matter what, one thing was clear. His doms loved him very much.

“That sounds nice,” He smiled tentatively at them, getting two warm smiles in return. “And I really am sorry. I promise I won’t ever go behind your backs like that again.”

“Everyone makes mistakes Lou,” Harry told him. “You’re forgiven- have been forgiven, ever since you talked to your coach. We both know how hard that must have been. Footie means a lot to you.”

“Yes it does,” Louis agreed. “But you guys mean more to me than any sport ever could.”

He spoke the truth.(If anyone thinks of other fics I removed from my ao3, feel free to reach out and I’ll post them on tumblr!)

#1dfic #harry/nick/louis #this used to be on my ao3 #dom/sub

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