#like telling skinny people that being told you should ‘eat a burger’ or whatever is a compliment is a little wild

[prisonpodcast]

.

[my-ed-thoughts]

I know everyone struggles with their body image somehow but what annoys me so much is when naturally skinny people complain about how hard it is to gain weight.

Because if you want to gain weight you just have to eat more. You don‘t have to think about each drop of oil, you can just use how much you want. You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. If you want to do it in a healthy way just eat a bunch of nuts. And even if you won‘t gain weight, you‘ll always be in a better position as a skinny person especially as a woman. I‘m sure for men it‘s different but if you‘re fat you‘ll always be the person people will make fun of.

In every movie or tv show the fat character is just there to make fun of. People will see you as worth less just because you weigh more. If you‘re skinny the worst thing you‘ll hear is to eat a sandwich and you‘ll probably get compared to a model. Meanwhile I was told that I should be dead just because I was fat.

I feel like it‘s definitely harder to restrict and lose weight because you‘ll actively have to avoid certain foods but you do have to eat so you can‘t avoid it completly. I‘d give everything to be naturally skinny and be able to eat without having to think twice about it.

Also I feel like most skinny people will just complain that they are unhappy but never do anything about it which proves to me that it can‘t be that bad. Meanwhile every overweight person at least once in their life tried to lose weight even if it‘s in an unhealthy way because nothing feels worse than being fat in this society. Because people will always judge you for literally just existing in a bigger body.

I was always made fun of even by random people on the street… how does that compare to someone telling you once in your fucking life to eat a burger?

I just don‘t get how you can compare a fast metabolism with a mental illness. If losing weight was so easy, there wouldn‘t be any eating disorders.

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt.7]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N:   This might be my favorite chapter yet. Bucky is soft, and I love him. Reminder because I know the timeline for this fic is confusing with switching between readers and Bucky's POV, we are eight months past Steve's death. Bucky has been home with her for seven. Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​ for looking this chapter over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Eight months after Steve’s death, Y/n was playing again. It wasn’t on the same scale as it once was and she was no longer teaching, not that it mattered. It was a big deal, Bucky didn’t downplay just how huge this was. She had given up, threw out her dreams in search of new ones as some misguided form of punishment; maybe she thought it was her penance for some terrible crime she convinced herself she committed by living. Bucky understood that feeling better than most, he really did, but she had nothing to atone for. The only one who needed absolution was Bucky and he hoped that by helping her get her life back, he was earning a tiny bit of forgiveness for everything he had done.  

Nothing would ever completely absolve him, but he prayed this would help to even the scales.

Over the last month, Y/n hasn’t mentioned Steve as much. Bucky didn’t know if that was because she was starting to heal or if it hurt too much to keep talking about him. She still slept in his room most nights, only slightly closer to him now, her foot usually wrapped around his ankle and Steve’s pillow was no longer hugging her back -- it was still there every night though. A handful of nights she fell asleep on the couch watching trashy late-night television and Bucky didn’t know if he should pick her up and carry her to bed. Was it too intimate of a gesture? Should he touch her that way? And if he did what bed would he take her to? It wasn’t something he was ready to test and he wouldn’t risk the potential hurt the wrong move could make. So he let her sleep, and stayed close by, sleeping on the small window bench nearby in case she needed him. 

Things began to resemble something better, calmer and there was a bit of normalcy returning. They even started going out. It began with small outings, a trip or two to the market, or down to the Mexican restaurant twenty minutes away for takeout. A few Fridays back, they spent the entire day at one of those you-pick farms a couple of hours away from the house. She told him she wanted to go get peaches. Bucky wasn’t about to tell her no or tell her that they could pick some up at the grocery store without the hassle of having to pick them off a tree. No, he wouldn’t do that. This was a big step for her; she wanted to go out, and well, she’s so damn pretty when she’s smiling. 

The farm was enormous for the area, sitting at around 200 acres. They had blueberries, pumpkins, peaches, and strawberries. Some of the produce wasn’t ready to pick, but Bucky knew Y/n was planning their next trip as soon as the seasons changed, and he really didn’t mind. They had a petting zoo they found upon arrival, at which point Y/n squealed over the baby goats, and they spent some forty-odd minutes feeding them. Then Bucky spent the next hour talking her out of having a baby goat of her own. Okay, Bucky would get her a damn goat if she really wanted one, but he was praying she would forget about it on the drive home. There was a hay maze that was still in the process of being prepped for the upcoming season but Y/n’s eyes lit up at the mere thought. 

The food had to be Y/n’s favorite most of all. 

There were candied peach slices that she had been so excited about. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh when Y/n had a bite with too much of the ginger that was sprinkled on top and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She glared at him, but it only made him grin wider. They both tried the vanilla scones with fresh peach jam and shared a large Mason jar full of peach iced tea because she said it was silly to spend the extra money when they could share. One sip and all Bucky could think about was the sweetness on his lips is what she would taste like.

Maybe the food had been Bucky’s favorite part, too.

The sun was starting to set, and despite being forced to leave the goats behind thanks to closing, Y/n was still smiling. Bucky followed behind her, letting her lead him to whatever tree she deemed had the best peaches. Y/n delicately placed three more peaches in the pail he was carrying and then set her eyes on him, scrutinizing and somehow still playful. She stepped towards him and flicked the bill of his NASA ball cap, causing it to pop up and sit crooked on his head, and she grinned at the feigned look of annoyance he was giving her. 

“I can’t see your face when you wear a cap.”

She told him that as if it was an excuse for her assault on his favorite hat. 

“Well, I’m trying to hide my stupid looking hair.” 

She giggled at that. 

Y/n giggled, and the little bit of his heart that didn’t belong to her became hers. She leaned in, and if he was a stupider man, he would have thought she was going to kiss him by the look in her eyes and how close their lips were. Y/n slowly reached up and pulled his hat off his head only to plop it on top of her own. If she was his, he would have pulled her close and claimed those pretty lips, savoring the honeyed peach and candied ginger he knew was still lingering on her tongue as he took his sweet time tasting her. He would have kissed her until she was smiling and giggling and sighing in that soft way she does when she’s really happy. 

She wasn’t his. So he didn’t. 

But he would dream about what it would be like if she was. 

“Looks better on me anyway,” Y/n told him with a grin, wandering off towards the next row of trees. 

Bucky could only watch as she walked away with his hat and his heart. He mumbled quietly to the peaches hanging nearby, “Yes, it does.” 

After their outing, their day trips became something they both looked forward to. It wasn’t their norm. In the past, they spent a lot of their time watching movies, sitting in the quiet enjoying each other’s company, or Bucky would read while she played and worked on her music. But this new normal was good, too. It was nice to see more than the seafoam green walls of her living room, and he would do just about anything if it made her happy. 

“Hey.” 

Bucky looked up from his spot on the couch to find Y/n standing next to him in those black skinny jeans that make his knees weak and a plain white t-shirt. He knew she was wearing that black lace bra of hers because he could make out the imprint of the lace against the delicate fabric of her shirt, and he recognized the design from an embarrassing mix-up on laundry day. Bucky couldn’t seem to find his voice so he met her gaze, a question lingering in his own eyes as he waited for her to spill whatever she was so excited about.

“Wanna take me out?” 

He laughed softly and closed the book in his hand. He found it funny that she still asked him that. The answer would always be yes. For her, it’s always yes. 

“I’ll take you wherever you wanna go, Y/n.”

They went out to dinner that night. It wasn’t anything lavish, but it was the right amount of rowdy. There was a band playing out on the patio and the music carried through the open doors to where they shared a small booth inside, it was loud but not so they couldn’t talk. She ordered pasta because pasta always makes her happy, and Bucky tries his hardest to make sure she’s happy. They talked a lot, well, she talked a lot. That wouldn’t be so strange if she hadn’t been so closed off the last eight months. 

Bucky let her talk about how she wanted to see if the band had any shows soon because she wanted to see them play in a better venue, and she told him she liked lights the restaurant had above the tables -- a large beam with hanging Edison bulbs wrapped around them. She talked about the funny picture of him Sam posted on Instagram. Bucky had rolled his eyes at that. Sam had the bad habit of taking candid photos of everyone, and he always posted the worst ones of Bucky. This one happened to be from the worst possible angle; the camera caught his mouth hanging wide open as Bucky took a bite out half of a cheese pizza, folded over and covered in potato chips. Some people eat pizza that way, it wasn’t weird or funny, and Bucky stood by that. The night was perfect, but even perfection has a few cracks if you look hard enough. 

Someone had mistaken them for a couple that night, and Bucky was quick to correct them. He informed the older man and his wife that she was his best friend, she was taken by another lucky man. It was all platonic Bucky had said. Y/n didn’t say anything. She watched Bucky charm the older couple and gave them a friendly smile and a wave as they walked away. 

“Platonic,” she muttered quietly once it was just them again. 

Bucky looked up from his half-eaten burger and ketchup soaked fries, took in the furrow of her brow, and the frown sitting where a smile was beaming only a few moments ago, and his heart sank. 

None of that was good. 

“Yeah, Trouble.” 

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the wedding band she was still wearing without meaning to, and she quickly pulled her hand under the table. The rest of dinner was quiet, and they didn’t speak about it again. 

--

They never talked about what happened at the farm or dinner that night, but whatever bothered her the night at the restaurant hadn’t caused a setback in the healing process as Bucky had feared. It seemed forgotten. Bucky was thankful for that, and he was thankful for days like today. Y/n wanted to spend the day at home, relaxing. She informed him that today would be perfect if she could spend the day with just him. She might have said something like, “I just want to spend today curled up on the couch watching movies with you.” Not that Bucky memorized the way her voice sounded when she said that or anything. 

Three movies into their marathon and Y/n declared they needed a break. She was going to figure out something to eat for dinner, and Bucky wasn’t sure how it happened, but he found himself upstairs, staring at a ghost. The letters Steve gave him have been tucked away in a drawer of the old desk that sat in the corner of his room. They caused him more heartache than Steve intended Bucky was sure. Or maybe this was exactly what Steve wanted. This was his punishment for loving her. Bucky tapped the letter on the desk and ran a hand down his face, Bucky had hoped they would disappear, and he wouldn’t have to look at them again, but there all twelve sat. 

A heavy-handed fist pounded on the front door, startling Bucky out of his trance and his stomach dropped at the sound. He wasn’t down there with Y/n, not that she needed him to answer the door, and lord knows if she knew he dared to even think about babying her like that, she would chew him out for a week straight. Still, he didn’t like leaving her completely on her own, not yet. Bucky tossed the letter back in the drawer, and hastily closed it before trampling downstairs. 

Bucky made out a familiar voice as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Well, you never answer your phone anymore, and I figured you were spending all your time with-” 

Her father met Bucky’s eyes, and he grinned.

“-Bucky. Well, shit, son. It’s good to see you home.” 

Bucky grinned and took the hand that was extended towards him. He hadn’t expected it to be her father at the door; he thought Sam or maybe Natasha. It made sense, though. No one has come by to check on her since he’s been home. It was about time they started to get visitors, and Y/n didn’t answer her phone much anymore, so if someone wanted to talk to her showing up like this was their only choice. Bucky knew she wasn’t doing that on purpose, she had to put some things off in order to keep going, and there wasn’t any shame in that. 

He was doing the very same thing. 

Y/n was uncomfortable, whether her dad knew Bucky wasn’t sure. Bucky knew, though. She hates small talk, so Bucky knew when Y/n said she was starting the grill, she just wanted a moment to breathe without being judged; a minute so she could prepare mentally for a guest when she didn’t want one. Bucky could keep her dad busy until she was ready for idle chit chat and undoubtedly Invasive questions. How hard could it be to keep up a conversation and look for a small fire on the porch? 

He could handle it; smoke meant they had to run. It would be fine. 

“I thought you would’ve stopped by before now.” 

Bucky passed over an amber-colored bottle from the fridge, taking a beer for himself and leaned against the counter. It probably wasn’t proper or how Steve would entertain him, but Bucky wasn’t Steve. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about that. This was still Steve’s house and his wife, no matter how much Bucky wished this life was his. 

“Well, I knew she was in good hands. She has you.” 

He smiled but shook his head. “I appreciate that. She’s probably helping me more than I’m helping her.” 

“I doubt that.” 

Bucky caved under the weight of his stare and grudgingly nodded his head in agreement (or cession depending on who you ask). He has yet to win an argument with her dad, and Bucky wasn't about to try to now. 

"We haven't had a chance to talk since you've been home. I've meaning to come by.  Y'know how much we love Steve; we always have." 

Bucky tried to keep his face impassive, his grip on the bottle in his hand tightened, and he could feel his stomach-churning. Where the hell was this going? 

“He was a good man and a good husband. Took care of Y/n, made sure she was happy and was always respectful.” 

Bucky relaxed some when he realized he was simply praising his lost friend, and he nodded, taking a swig of his beer to wash his guilt down. Yeah, that was Steve. The polished side of the coin. The hero, not the broken sidekick.The better of the two. Bucky heard the speech before; it was one truth he knew well. 

“But I always thought it was going to be you.” 

Bucky froze and by some small miracle managed to keep his face blank as the older man went on, “Even up to the day of the wedding I had this feeling one of the girls were going to come running in, flowers in their hair to tell me she ran off with you and the wedding was off.” 

Bucky huffed. “She would never do that.” 

Her dad smiled and nodded his agreement. “She wouldn’t, but you would have.”

Bucky licked his lips and dropped his gaze to the counter, not risking the chance the truth could be seen in his eyes. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t think about it after Steve proposed. That he didn’t let it play out like some romantic drama in his head where he got to her just in time and told her the truth, the whole real, painful truth, and she loved him back all along. 

But she didn’t. She loved Steve, still did. 

It was obvious any time Steve was mentioned or when something reminded her of him. He could see it written all over her how much she still loved Steve, and Bucky couldn’t blame her. He still loved Steve too. Despite everything, Bucky loved them both. 

“Give her time to work through her grief, and I’m guessing you need to deal with your own. Losing someone you love is never easy. The time will come though when you both can move on. I’m not saying you’ll do that together or that I think you should, but there may be the chance to in the future. If you were looking for hope of some sort, well, that’s the best I can offer you.” 

Y/n had found her way back into the kitchen, no smoke in sight and their conversation ended there. It wasn’t one Bucky wanted to continue anyway. Not when the hope he was offering didn’t exist. Bucky tried to leave them alone so she could spend alone time with her dad, but she gave him the look, the one that pleaded with him to stay and tugged on his heart. So he stayed by her side until the stars were shining brightly and they were alone once again. 

Bucky had been more careful with his affection after that. He was meaningful in his touch and waited to make sure he meant each one. Not that it was that hard to do, he meant every one. When it came to Y/n, everything Bucky did had meaning, a purpose. 

Y/n had started asking him to go on a walk around sunset every night. It was getting cooler out now that autumn was right around the corner, and she liked to watch how everything around them changed -- slowly almost without notice.

Their walk tonight felt different. Things had changed between them, when Bucky didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what they had changed to, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was afraid if he did, she would realize her mistake, and all these small moments between them would stop. Halfway through their walk, Y/n had let her hands hang by her side instead of staying crossed over her chest. When they were kids, she would do that when she wanted Bucky to hold her hand, or maybe he imagined that she ever truly wanted to hold his hand. 

Bucky never could figure her out.

He never knew what she meant when she would lean in close to whisper something in his ear and pull away just as fast. When she would tease him and give him that giggle that had his heart stopping and restarting like an old engine that was about to give out. He could never tell if she felt something beyond what they already were; if she wanted him the way he wanted her. 

Her street was just up the hill, and Bucky finally gave in to the screaming in his chest because feeling her hand in his once more was all he could think about. He slowly slid his fingertips down her forearm until he reached her palm. He risked a peek at her as he laced their fingers together and caught the smile she was trying to hide by dropping her head to gaze down to her white high-tops and his black boots. 

Bucky didn’t know if Y/n wanted to hold his hand, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he knew her as well as he thought, but he sure did love that smile.

Previous // Next

[temilyrights]

Miscommunication

Summary: Jack Sloane x Reader. You accidently mistake a dinner invitation from Jack as a date. 

A/N: Exam season has had me in zombie mode but I'm almost alive again! I started writing this in like September and completely forgot about it until I picked it up again a few weeks ago. Pretty light angst considering my work. I wanted a better title but I couldn’t think of one and wanted to upload. Anyway, as always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) Enjoy!

Read on AO3

You smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit as you make your way down the path to Jack’s house, flowers clenched tightly in one hand, and teeth digging into your lip.

This was actually happening. A date with Jacqueline Sloane. You blow out a breath and knock on the door, trying to keep a calm exterior while your stomach does somersaults.

“You’re here!” Jack cheers as she opens the door, and you’re instantly blown away. She’s wearing a simple white button-down, French tucked into a pair of blue skinny jeans that fit her like a glove. Her feet are bare of shoes and socks, so you can see her freshly painted red nails, and her hair is in its usual beach waves.  She’s stunning. “Y/N?”

Your eyes snap up to hers. She’s watching you with amusement. “Sorry, uh, hi.” Your cheeks tinge pink, and in an attempt to hide that fact from Jack you shove the flowers at her. “Uh, I got you these.”

She gracefully accepts the bouquet, her smile turning soft as she looks from the flowers to you. “My favourite. How’d you know?”

You shrug. “You aren’t the only one who notices things.” It hadn’t been too hard to work out, she’d had a bouquet of them in her office a while back and then again in her living room recently. She’d had other types as well, but you noticed the way she always smiled a little brighter when she saw the beautiful arrangement of iris’ and daffodils. It suited her, and coincidentally also portrayed a fitting message. The yellow daffodils represented new beginnings and the blue iris’ hope, which was what tonight felt like.

She drops her head to breath in the flowers, a look of bliss crossing her face before she meets your eyes again. She reaches for your hand and squeezes, rubbing her thumb in circles across your palm. “Thank you. I love them.” She’s closer than before, and your eyes drop to her lips momentarily before you quickly meet her gaze again. Jack clears her throat and steps back, releasing your hand in the process and you try not to miss the contact. She signals down the hallway, “Well, I should go find a vase for these. If you join everyone else in the living room, I’ll be in in a minute.”

“E-everyone else?” You ask as your stomach drops, but Jack is already walking away, nose buried back in the flowers. You force yourself inside, and take your shoes off, leaving them by the door. It’s when you move to hang your jacket in her coat cupboard that you finally hear the sound of Ellie’s distinctive laughter flowing through the house.

You pause, squeezing your eyes shut as you bury down the humiliation and disappointment coursing through you. Of course, you’d misunderstood Jack invite for dinner. Thinking back, she never did specify it was a date, but she hadn’t mentioned other people either, and you’d just assumed, or hoped, or whatever, because it didn’t matter. Of course, Jacqueline Sloane didn’t want to date you and oh no you’d just bought her flowers! Flowers!

You groan and make your way further into the house, forcing a smile on your face as you step into the living room. Ellie, Nick, Tim, and Delilah are all sitting around but are way too consumed in what they’re debating to notice you. You take the opportunity to lean against the door frame and listen.

“Easy. No junk food.” Nick smirks, leaning back into the couch.

Ellie makes a noise of outrage, eyes bulging, “You’re joking, right? That means no chocolate, chips-”

“I’m not seeing a problem.” You smother a chuckle. He thought you didn’t all know about the chip stash he had locked away in his desk that he always ended up inhaling when he thought no one was around.

“-no takeout, and no burgers.”

“What? Burger’s don’t count!”

Delilah laughs, “Yes, they totally do.”

“Fine, whatever, I’m still sticking with my answer.” Nick huffs.

Ellie just rolls her eyes. “Well, obviously I’d choose no TV, how about you Tim?”

“The two don’t correlate, it’s not a fair would you rather.”

“You just can’t decide if you’d rather never watch Star Trek or eat Doritos again,” Delilah smirks.

“No, it’s just not a fair question!”

“Come on Tim, just admit you can’t live without your yearly Star Trek rewatch.”

Ellie hums, “Yeah, but can he live without Domino's stuffed crust pizza either?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “It’s not a fair-” he cuts off when he spots you in the doorway, eyes sparkling with delight at the chance for an escape, “Hey, look it’s Y/N.”

The other’s all swing around to look at you as you smirk. “Would you rather? Really?”

Ellie shrugs, “Need something to pass the time why we waited for you to appear.”

“Wait for me to- I’m early?” You pull your phone from your pocket to double-check, “Yeah. Early. Jack said half six and it’s only 6.27 now.”

They all frown looking between each other, Tim is the one who speaks, “She told us six.”

“What? She told me and Nick five-thirty!”  

“Dinner’s basically ready if you all-,” Jack says as she enters the room, her words quickly die off and she comes to a halt as you all snap around to look at her. Her eyes narrow, “Want to move to the dining room...Have I missed something?”  

“You gave us all different arrival times?” Nick asks.

“Oh, yes.” Jack nods. Everyone stares at her waiting for her to continue, and she rolls her eyes, “Nick, I knew you and Ellie were coming together and when you do you are almost always at least 45 minutes late to every plan we make. Tim and Delilah, you are usually about 30 minutes late too. Y/N on the other hand is practically always on time. By giving you different arrival slots, I could be sure you’d all be here by 6.40 when dinner would be ready.” She shrugs, signalling to Ellie and Nick, “You two didn’t arrive till six so I wasn’t completely off.”

Tim’s and Ellie’s mouths hang open in shock, while Nick looks mildly annoyed and Delilah is watching Jack with an impressed smirk. You don’t really know how to respond, but when Jack looks at you, her eyes dancing with amusement, you can’t help but chuckle.

“Now, dinner?” She claps her hands together, swinging on her heels and exiting the room before anyone can utter another word.

----

Jack’s outdone herself. The room smells absolutely mouth-watering. And Ellie voices as much when she swallows her first mouthful of food with a moan. “Oh my god, Jack. This is delicious.” Everyone murmurs along in agreement and Jack preens.

The conversation flows easily and as much as you try to keep yourself engaged, laughing and commenting in all the right places, you quickly find yourself retreating. You’d deliberately taken the seat furthest away from where Jack sat at the head of the table, choosing instead to sit beside Ellie. Tim sat the other side of you, at the end of the table. While Delilah was opposite you, and Nick beside her.

Jack's eyes had flicked to you a few times now, she was beginning to notice your odd behaviour. It wasn’t like you to be so silent, but you knew she wouldn’t say anything until she could get you alone, and it wasn’t like that was going to happen any time soon. Delilah was also watching you, and when she caught your eye, she shot you a questioning look. You quickly buried your head in your glass instead of answering it.

“So, how was your date the other night?” Jack smirks at Ellie, eyes teasing as Ellie releases a dramatic groan.

“Oh, don’t. We can’t all have the luck you do. How is the mystery person you won’t tell me about?” Ellie gleams, as Jack’s eyes widen.

Your gaze snaps to her, words spilling forth without thought. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone?” Hurt seeps into your voice and you just hope it’s subtle enough that nobody notices.

“There isn’t anyone!” Panic flashes in her eyes before she looks away and clears her throat, “I mean, there was a couple of dates with a man, but it’s not- we aren’t- I’m not seeing him.”

You drop your head so she can’t see the pain clear in your face, and quickly reach for your wine glass and take a large gulp. Jack does the same as an awkward silence takes over the room until Ellie, thankfully, starts talking again, drawing the attention of everyone and allowing you a moment to compose yourself.

Delilah’s watching you when you look back up and immediately catches your eye. She looks at you like she understands like she sees exactly what you’re so desperately trying to hide, and your emotions come swarming back tangling in your throat. Jack’s eyes bore into the side of your head too, but you refuse to look because you know the second you meet her eyes, she’ll see it all.

“Excuse me,” You cough, pushing yourself up from your chair a little too roughly and knocking the table. It doesn’t slow you down though, and you don’t meet anyone’s eyes as you quickly flee the room.

You lock the bathroom door behind you with a shaky hand and then lean back against it, allowing the cool wood to calm you down as you take deep breaths. Tears burn your eyes, and you so desperately don’t want to let them fall but they do anyway.

A date. You’d thought tonight was a date, and not only had you been wrong, but she plainly wasn’t interested as she was dating other people!

Your mind screams as you curse yourself for being stupid enough to get your hopes up. How many times were you going to have to learn this lesson? When had getting your hopes up ever ended positively for you?

Pushing yourself off the door you sigh, carefully wiping the tears from your face in an effort to not disturb your makeup. You wipe at your slightly smudged mascara with tissue, it’s not perfect but it works enough to hide the evidence of your tears. Pulling yourself together you spare one last glance at yourself and open the door.

Jack’s leaning against the wall outside, biting the hangnail on her thumb. She quickly drops her hand and stands properly the second you step over the threshold of the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just needed to pee.” You force a small laugh, hoping to dispel her worry and any questions.

She arches a brow, “Without flushing the toilet?”

“Are you policing my bathroom breaks now?” You laugh as panic clutches at your chest.

She takes a step closer, eliminating most of the space between her and you. Her eyes track your face as her brows furrow, “You’ve been off all evening.”

“I’m just tired.” You shrug and look over her shoulder, “Come on, let’s get back to the others.” You go to step around her, but she grabs your wrist, and you instantly freeze. You close your eyes before looking back to her. She’s watching you so closely and your heart starts thumping in your chest, but you force a small smile anyway, “Jack, I’m fine. It’s just been a long week and I’m just tired.”

“You said that already.”

You roll your eyes and take a step back. Needing to break the contact between your skin and her. “Yeah well, maybe because it’s true.”

“Also, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Can’t be that bad, still managed to beat you at poker more than once.” You tease back, hoping to distract her with jokes instead of letting her push any further.

“I was distracted.”

“Fornell’s chatter annoys you that much?”

“I learnt to tune him out a long time ago.” She hums.

You frown, “Then what was distracting you?”

Jack's eyes flash like she knows she’s been caught out, and she takes another step back and tries to laugh, “Maybe we should go back and join the others.”

“No, wait a minute!” You grab her wrist and pull her back in. She rolls her eyes, but you know it’s a defence to make you believe she’s not bothered when she clearly is. You think over the last poker night you’d won a few months back. You’d been in a great mood because Jack had gotten a little drunk and had been all smiley and touchy. After the game had finished, she had disappeared to Fornell’s kitchen to grab a beer and returned with one for you.

“For our champion.” She’d smirked, leaning down and hanging her hands around your neck as she passed you the drink. Your face had promptly turned scarlet and when you’d looked up at Jack to see her soft eyes and drunken smile the rest of the world had faded away. Your eyes had only been drawn away from her lips when someone coughed loudly.

It’d been Grace who had had a smug smirk on her face and thinking back she’d been shooting Jack that look a lot recently which was almost always returned with a glare from Jack.

“Grace?” You ask.

“What?” Jack frowns.

“She’s been distracting you.”

“Right, yeah. It’s Grace.” She nods along, and it doesn’t take a psychologist to know she’s lying.

“Now who’s the bad liar.”

She arches a brow, “Still you. I should probably be insulted by how much you look like you don’t want to be here tonight.” Her lips pout slightly, proving she is actually upset by it.

“I turned up on time, that’s a good indicator I do.”  

“Yeah, with flowers…” Her brows furrow again, her eyes examining your face. You release her wrist and step back, but it only causes her frown to deepen. “You bought me flowers.” She says as if she’s trying to piece a puzzle together aloud. “My favourite flowers and you dressed up more than usual…” Her eyes widen before quickly turning soft, “You thought it was a date.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” You rush out, even as your cheeks turn red and you wish for the ground to swallow you up whole.

Her eyes remain soft, a smile pulling at her lips as she takes a step closer to you. “You thought it was a date.”

“Jack,” You gulp, shaking your head. Her hand brushes against yours.

“You thought it was a date.” She repeats again, and it’s only when she’s this close that you finally realise just how happy she looks. There’s no pity in her eyes, and the tension seeps from your shoulders as you smile hesitantly.

“I may have thought this was a date.”

She grins as her spare hand grips at your waist. “You thought it was a date.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you wanna say anything else other than those five words?”

Her eyebrow arches, a cocky smirk tugging at her lips. “How about you kiss me?”

“What about your guests?”

“I’m sure they can handle a few more minutes without us.” As if on cue a smash sounds from the dining room and Jack sighs, “or not.”

“Sorry, Jack!” Ellie shouts, “I’m cleaning it up, don’t worry!”

“If there’s now red wine over my carpet I’m going to kill her,” Jack grumbles and you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

“Maybe don’t kill our friend. I’d miss her.”

She sighs dramatically as she tries to keep her lips from curling into a smile, “If you insist.”

“I know it’s a huge sacrifice on your part, but I’m sure there’s something I can do to make it worth it.” You smirk.

Her eyes darken as she leans in closer. She’s focused on your lips but at the last second her eyes meet yours, “Before our first date?” She whispers.

You twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, before moving to caress her cheek. Her eyes fall close as she sighs and leans into the touch. “Wouldn’t want you to kill Ellie.”

She hums, “Yes. Might have no choice otherwise.” Her eyes open, sparkling brightly as her lips twitch.

“Yep.” You nod, as your eyes trail across her lips. “It’s all for the greater good. Saving lives. All that jazz.”

“Hey, Jack. Have you got anymore- Oh, oh my god, sorry.” Tim apologises, immediately turning back around as he steps into the hallway. He keeps his back to you. “Sorry. Uh, kitchen roll, dishcloths, if you have any could you bring some when you’re done. Again, sorry.” He quickly hurries off, and even though you can’t see his face you know it’s bright red.

You immediately start laughing, “I swear he’s as bad as Jimmy sometimes.”

Jack hums and then sighs as she steps away, forcing you to drop your hands from her. You can’t help but pout slightly.

“I should go check out this mess.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, and you don’t feel bad for silently wishing everyone else would go home so, you could spend the rest of the evening alone with her.

As if following your thoughts, she smirks. “They can wait a few more minutes.” And in one swoop, she steps forward, her hand sliding around and gripping your neck before pulling you in and kissing you.

Your eyes widen in shock before they quickly fall close. You pull her in closer, matching her hurried, hot kisses. It’s like fireworks, or maybe more just heat shooting straight between your legs, but you could so easily drown in her kisses forever.

She pulls away though, a proud smirk on her face. You must look as dazed as you feel. “You’re definitely staying tonight.” She hums, eyes dark and she’s practically devouring you with them. You gulp slightly, turned on beyond belief and you can’t believe you still have to sit through the rest of dinner and dessert with your friends.

“Any chance we can kick everyone else out now?”

She laughs and pecks your lips, “Don’t think they’d appreciate that.”

“Don’t really care.” You grumble.

Her eyes sparkle and she steps away, despite you trying to keep her close. “I’m going to get dishcloths. The sooner we get back in there the sooner I’ll have you all to myself.” She winks and retreats to the other room before you can utter another word.

You gulp and head back to the dining room in almost a trance. Delilah breaks into laughter the second she sees you; Nick and Ellie are both grinning, and Tim still has a pink tinge to his face.

You clear your throat and take your seat as Jack enters the room.

“Oh, thank god it’s just water.” She sighs in relief as she makes her way to the soaked carpet beside Ellie’s chair.

“Hey, Y/N.” Delilah chuckles again, and you hesitantly meet her eyes. “You’ve got a bit of lipstick…” She points to her own lips.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you swing around to look at Jack whose face is full of faux innocence.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You whine, trying to rub the pink hue from your mouth.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She smirks.

“Should’ve just let you kill Ellie.” You mumble, using your reflection in your glass to see if you’ve been successful.

“Hey!” Ellie protests, “Why am I dying?”

You don’t answer her question, and Jack just returns to cleaning the mess without responding. Ellie pouts.

The second dessert finished, you not so subtly begin guiding everyone to the door, and the moment it closes behind Ellie (who you know took deliberately longer to leave just to spite you), Jack spins you around and pins you to the wall.

“Now who’s the one that wants to kill Ellie.” She hums as she begins to leave a trail of kisses up your neck.

“Between us, I’m sure we could do it successfully.” You sigh as she hits a particular spot, and you feel her smirk. “But no more Ellie talk. Or murder talk. Or anything talk that isn’t about you getting me in your bed.”

“Agreed.” Jack hums, before finally capturing your lips with hers. Your knees turn weak, and you’re grateful for the wall behind you. Your hands find her hair and her leg slides in between yours. You release a breathy sigh at the pressure, gripping at her hair and causing her to groan and lean harder against you.

“Bed. Now.” You order, and she’s more than happy to comply.

It’s a mission to get to her room because you both refuse to separate, too focused on getting the other out of their clothes.

“I’m going to make you scream,” Jack whispers against your lips, as her hands tease up your now shirtless body.

“Oh, yeah?” You smirk, “Do it then.”

And she does. Multiple times.

[jojo-reader-hell]

Time to show you all how we do it in the pinta cuh.

Gwess x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uh, I guess just Gwess being Gwess. I don’t expect everyone to assume she’s not going to be abusive.

Also if I catch anyone complaining about the Spanglish it’s going down and I know for sure you’ve never kicked it with the 90’s cholas in your entire sheltered life.

...

“Oye, listen bollera.”

“Told you not to fuckin’ call me bollera cabrona.”

“Cállate tu boca. Escucha bollera. Esa machorras, they do shit differently in the pinta. I worry about your ass because you don’t got one mean bone in your body. Shit, you couldn’t even stand up to the guera who bullied you in eighth grade. But I’ll tell you how it is in there esa. Maybe you’ll have the advantage since you’re going in a bollera, not coming out one…”

“What’s bollera?”

She butchers the Spanish, and all you can do is fucking laugh at her poor attempts. Your girlfriend frowns from between your legs, but you tug at her hair to get her to shut up her whining.

Saturdays, she always bugs you in your free time from writing to spend time with her. What the hell is there for two girls to do in prison on a date anyways? You can play cards with her in the yard, have her spot you lifting weights, all that shit gets old. Instead the two of you stay in, she begs you to baby her and brush her hair, and you oblige. Treating it like your grandma did and telling her stories while she made sweet eyes at you.

“How come you always talk in Spanish whenever you tell me stories about us meeting and falling in love?” She asks, pouting her lips up at you.

“Because that’s how it happened esa.” You laugh, tugging on her hair again and making her squeal, “It’s rare that I even get to act like this, not easy being trapped in the middle of two cultures and not getting accepted by either or. But with my babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

She pulls on your jailbird blues, wanting a kiss but you make her wait. It’s just how that shit goes. You still hold grudges from the time she made your first stint into prison some bullshit.

“As I was saying mensa, as every corresponding event would prove in the future, it seemed Little Mosca was, for lack of a better term, entirely full of shit.”

To a point though, as you would later find out. But when it came to it, she didn’t know you or your life.

Never the less you’d have never thought your time in the “pinta” was going to be as smooth sailing as it was. You expected to get into fights, possibly be violated, become “somebody’s bitch” as they so eloquently put it in every fucking prison movie you could get your little pizza hands on. That’s what they told you in your friend groups too. Stop doing loca shit with the girls and go back to school, school girl. You should be at home studying fool. You like to talk about stupid shit like rocks and fucking video games all fucking day. You’re still a kid.

It pisses you off and only serves to give you a Napoleon complex.

Maybe if you had listened, it wouldn’t have gotten you into a case of wrongful arrest that not even the best pro bono lawyer could get you out of. You expected to have no one to turn to in El Acuario. Especially when you didn’t seem to fit in any of the stereotypical niches that came from being an outsider in some bad ass peckerwood lands.

Last name is impossibly hard for the white kids to say? Three strikes you’re out and a beaner. Try to bond with the other people of color? Let’s face it, even if you’re on the same short end of the stick there’s no spot in that long history of oppression for you homes. Speak Spanglish even though you don’t know all that much Spanish because your parents took “English Only” as law? Now every homegirl at El Super is taking the piss out of you.

But say you get grudgingly accepted by the locas, but they’re the kind of girls that sport hoop earrings, lipliner no lipstick, and a neck covered in hickeys? Well, you had the last part, but when the hickeys were from another girl it tends to cause a ruckus in the barrio.

You didn’t expect to be led to your cell and recognize nearly every girl already locked up in there.

“A la verga! Es La Bollera guey!”

“Sad Girl?!” you exclaimed at the voice, only to be jostled into silence.

“Shut the fuck up!” Screams the guard who is leading you.

“Orale bollera! The fuck are you doing in here homegirl?!”

“Let her go homes, she ain’t do shit!”

“Ay loca! The fuck did you do to get in here foo? Get caught eating panocha again?!”

“She ain’t do shit pinche culero! Let her go!”

But somehow against every barrier, life worked in its own way. You went to school, tried to keep it straight to fit in, let your energy help you to fit in seamlessly no matter where you went. But the homegirls always warned you to stay out of shit. Even though they all loved you anyway, bollera y todo, they always claimed you barely survived outside when it came to your sweet nature, how the hell were you going to last a day in the pinta?

The way they seem to want your freedom, it seems like you’re going to incite a riot among the chicanas.

You’re almost embarrassed. Every mom friend on the block seems to be doing time the same way as you, but the camaraderie doesn’t last too long.

So far the worst part of Green Dolphin was being arrested. Slammed on the hot hood of a police cruiser and cuffed, thrown around like you were a rag doll. Granted it wasn’t any fun having la juda sticking their fingers into where you didn’t want anyone except your future partner to, but that and the mugshot, it came with the territory. Eventually your homegirls do have to quiet down, not before reassuring you that they got your “esquina”. Well, now that you’re trapped in a six by eight cell with some goo goo eyed chick that acts like she’s la reina of the whole fucking place, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option anymore.

Even better… she’s not even Hispanic or Latina. Her skin is pasty white and clashes with her blue koolaid dyed lips.

No matter. You know how to deal with the white girls too. That’s the beauty of being able to chameleon your way into any situation.

“Uh… hey.” You say awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t say a word. Weird. You have to scoot by her to take your place on the bottom bunk, about four seconds from opening your mouth to ask the dreaded ice breaker “what are you in for”, when she suddenly yanks you by the coveralls.

Oh… Oh hell no.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Thats my bunk-…”

Earrings off. Let’s go fool. It goes down like Diddy Kong, or more like Donkey when that’s just the type of punch she gets seemingly out of nowhere. You don’t have to turn around to know. She was fucked the minute she tried to get you.

It’s a matter of seconds, after you’ve floored her to the enamel first and pretty much sat on her chest, your hands and an unseen force have her pinned below you with your hands around her skinny guerra neck. The homegirls must have thought the screams were coming from you, because immediately you hear the banging of iron bars as your homegirls are coming to back you up.

“Oh shit! Bollera! Que esta pasando guey?!”

“Get the fuck off her white bitch!”

Their spring into action is stopped dead in its tracks when they see you’re strangling the girl on the floor. It takes them a minute to really comprehend the predicament you’ve got the girl in. When they only knew you from hang outs at Burger King or some dude’s house, they don’t truly know the reason that you waltzed in among them. Unafraid. Unyielding. They only know you that you’re a real loca to be walking around with girls who claim to be so.

They’re dead silent. Don’t even say shit when the girl’s turning blue. Not a word of encouragement or a “ja guey” to keep you going. But it’s fine.

You knock her back and forth into the enamel. She keeps trying to kick you off but her arms are pinned. You’re too far up on her chest, almost sitting on her breasts, smothering her down and punctuating every sentence with a jolt of her head against the flooring as you press down on her windpipe.

“Andale puta, you wanna play that way, I’ll play too.”

She’s blue. Turning the same shade as her lipstick. But you let her stay conscious enough to squeak out an answer.

“Here’s a few rules home girl, keep your fucking hands off me and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t give a shit about you, I didn’t get thrown in the pinta to get fucked up by some gabacha. But you wanna play that shit with me? Al rato bitch!”

“Sueltalo Bollera!”

“You feel me bitch?” You growl.

“Sueltalo homegirl! She ain’t worth it!”

“Let her go!”

“You feel me?!” You insist.

A squeak. That’s all you get from her. A small squeak of affirmation and you let her neck go, continuing to to make your bed as she flounders on the floor, totally ignorant of your homegirl’s gawking but feeling proud of yourself none the less.

It’s no fanfare when you meet up with everyone else later on. They tell you to watch your shit and to leave your cellmate at that. If word gets out, you might have a couple more fights at this rate.

But it doesn’t matter. Smooth sailing from now on since you stood up to her before she could get a hit in.

“You hit me though!”

“Technically that was my Stand that hit you.”

Those same blue koolaid lips pout at you again, and this time you lean down to give her a kiss right on her mouth. She squeals, its that same familiar sound she made when you had her pinned to the floor all those months ago.

“Yeah and you tried to knock my ass out too, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was to meet someone who liked it like that.” You laugh.

Gwess just huffs, making grabby hands at your coveralls and begging you for more affection.

That’s how it goes in the pinta though. At least Little Mosca was right about that part.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 28: Connections - A Strange Kind Of Ferality Chap. 2: The Spread Of Team Phantom

Danny’s become something of a legend everyone in Amity knows, as have the other strange teens.

Jasper bops Levy on the nose as she hops to sit on his lap. “Now that you and your folks have finally moved to Amity Park with the rest of the family, want to hear a tale?”.

Levy nods and bounces around slightly, grinning with a few teeth missing.

Jasper clears his throat, “now this is a legend of Amity. But not just of our strange ghostly home, no, of America herself”, pointing out the window to one of the many images of Phantom’s logo that the town was decorated in with pride, “I’m quite sure you know of Phantom. But this isn’t about Phantom. But rather a boy, a living mortal boy, the son of two ghost hunters actually”.

Levy giggles, “so ghosts are still involved”.

“Indeed they are, though not really. You see their son, the Fenton boy, Daniel or Danny I believe his name was. Well you see, he was a strange one”.

Levy tilts her head, “like the kid who eats glue sticks and thinks soap tastes good?”.

Jasper laughs, “oh so much more than that, little one. People say he was like a feral animal, all snarls and bared fangs. Could move like a lithe cat and wounds never seemed to stay as long as they should. I’ve even heard it told he once broke his leg only to walk off as if nothing ever happened. Some folks even believed he could hear you across town or would walk in time with people's heartbeats”.

“Oh that is really weird”.

“Indeed, and it’s a sad thing, because you know how people are about weird. They don’t like it and end up chasing it away”, Jasper pats her head as she frowns, “yes it is unfortunate. But he came back, always did. Sometimes he’d stay for days only to disappear after government agents showed up”.

Levy goes wide-eyed and gapes, “wow! Was he some kind of mutant or something? Alien?”.

Jasper chuckles, “hard to say. But it wasn’t just him who was strange. See he had two close friends as well. One was known for being creepy and hitting on everything even before Daniel had become strange. The other was a goth girl with more fondness for plants than people”.

“Plants are better than people though?”.

“You’re not wrong. But I heard it told, her plants would bite and attack people. That she could even control them. A witch they said”.

“Aunty Shade is a witch! She makes so many pretty smelling bags”.

“That she is, but I’m certain no one believes Shade’s summoning ghosts or putting curses on people. One story tells how the goth girl, I believe her name was Sam, had transformed into a dragon once because a girl insulted Daniel”.

Levy giggles at that and mutters, “good. Deserved it”.

Jasper smiles slightly and pats her head, “you have quite the taste for justice don’t you?”, readjusting in his chair, “anyway, none of the rumours about her could really be verified. Though she had many the same as Daniel, growling and being threatening. But the other friend, Tucker was his name, we can verify some of the rumours about him. You can even look it up, see he could hack anything. Even ghosts. He’s on most government watch lists because of that. And I remember how you were so impressed when Lex jumped that river. Well, Tucker supposedly jumped across roofs and would fall down people's chimneys, only to apologise and climb out their windows. And another strange thing I’ve heard, apparently he dated his electronic gadgets”.

Levy snorts and starts laughing, making Jasper smile as he continues, “now all this is just quirky of course. Where things get truly strange is after all three left Amity, only to return. As I’ve said Daniel never stayed away too long, but these two friends seldom visited and they only did with Daniel with them”.

“So they were really close friends, what’s weird about that?”.

“Oh nothing. What’s weird is how they were all weirder every-time they returned. Or at least the weird was more noticeable. They were feral through and through. On the prowl, looking for danger; putting everyone in the town on edge”. Leaning down and whispering to her, “now the real story begins after their visits had been going on for years. The two friends started doing the really truly strange things Daniel was known for. Eyes glowing in darkened alleys, fangs and pointed ears, unnatural shows of strength and healing. Whatever had made that boy strange had happened to them as well it would seem”, whispering even quieter and almost menacingly, “and every so often another teen would be seen hanging around them. Acting strange but not nearly as much. Except for the ones who would show multiple times, they’d be feral too. Like whatever was up with Daniel was actively spreading”, grinning darkly, “and sometimes it was an Amity teen who would wander to them, start hanging out with them. Start changing, and eventually leaving Amity with the boy. Sometimes they come back with the boy, feral and wild. Some say Daniel’s a monster snatching away teenagers and making them like him”.

Jasper chucked at her wide-eyed expression as he leans back, “but the absolute strangest thing. The nail in the coffin for the boy, and those who followed after him, not being human. Was that none of them seemed to age. And even to this day, I hear it told you can still occasionally spot Daniel visiting Amity, some of the missing teens visiting Amity, feral teens from other towns visiting. Even though for many that shouldn’t be possible. Because, tell me, how long have the ghosts been around?”.

Levy tilts her head and makes a face, “six hundred and something?”, scrunching up her face, “but that means Daniel’s older than that!”.

Jasper bops her nose, “exactly. And yet...”, Jasper chuckles as he points out the window, Levy following where he points.

Looking back and forth from Jasper and the boy outside. Black hair, blue-eyed, short and skinny. Flanked by a purple-eyed goth, a orange-haired boy with freckles, and little black-haired and blue-eyed girl barely older looking than Levy. Levy watches as the black-haired boy talks with a dark-skinned bleach blonde girl that Levy recognises from Casperhigh. The boy laughing, revealing fangs; making Levy squeak and look back to Jasper.

Jasper just nods at her, “seems he’s here today”, patting her head as she looks back out the window, “now I know he’s an interesting one, but you best stay away. Him and his children never seem to cause harm, but danger always follows them and they are all wild things”.

Levy looks back at Jasper, “but what about the dark-skinned girl? She’s from school?”.

Jasper sighs, “I’m sure her folks will keep her inside, away from the boy and the other two. But he may spirit her away all the same. He’s taken a shine clearly”.

Levy frowns, “but doesn’t she know he might take her away? Everyone knows this tale right?”.

Jasper chuckles and pats her head, “she knows, everyone does. Especially in Amity. But it’s said that those who follow the boy are meant to. Some fear he spirits them away as he pleases, but most agree that every single teen choose to go with him”.

Levy looks back out the window as the four walks down the road, the goth tossing a burger to the dark-skinned one and flashing a fanged smile. Black hair tucked behind her pointed ears. Looking back to Jasper, “must not be bad then”.

Jasper frowns, “still best to not tempt fate dearie”, smiling again, “and there’s still more to this tale to tell”.

Levy tilts her head, forgetting about the strange boy potentially leading astray a high schooler, “oh?”.

Jasper nods, “you see these feral teens, Daniel’s teens, Daniel’s ‘children’; they show up in towns all over America. But each city sees one of them more often than any of the others. Amity sees Daniel the most of course. New York sees one named Peter. Chicago has Wes. New Jersey, Bruce. Las Vegas has Lily”, pointing out the window, “the goth, Sam, her city’s Elmerton. And the little girl, who some suspect is actually Daniel’s biological child, her place is Michigan”, leaning back, “and another thing each of these towns has? A ghostly protector. Some say that these teens are sacrifices, created into something not so human as anchors to the mortal world for a good ghost. That Daniel and Phantom were the first”. Bopping her nose, “and you know what really supports this? Michigan’s ghost protector is a little girl who looks nearly the same as our Phantom”.

Levy mouths ‘wow’ before speaking, “couldn’t they just be ghosts? Daniel be Phantom?”.

Jasper laughs, “now there’s a theory! I’ll leave that up to you to decide. There are plenty of theories about those teens, the feral children, the wild ones. But you want my opinion? A ghost is dead and no matter how strange or not quite human. Fenton clearly isn’t dead”.

Levy tilts her head, “what do you think they are?”.

“Oh? Fair folk, fae, fairies. My guess is that Daniel was a changeling, a fairy child swapped with a human child”, rolling his hand in the air, “and that the exposure to ectoplasm from the Fenton parents changed him into a conduit from here to the Ghost Realm. Connecting to Phantom”, tapping his chin, “I believe Daniel takes all the teens who follow him to the land of fairies equivalent in the Ghost Realm”.

“Why?”.

“You see, it’s said if a person stays in the land of fairies for long or eats their food, they’ll become fairies themselves”.

Levy shrugs, “I guess that makes sense, but they don’t have wings? Fairies have wings”.

Jasper laughs, “not all of them, and certainly not changelings”.  

Levy huffs, “I think my idea makes more sense”.

Jasper pats her head, “I’m sure you do dearie, I’m sure you do”.

End.

[throtegote]

Yung Waitloz (2012 me’s rapper name)

(If you’d like to read this off my wix blog here’s the link: https://erikatriesall.wixsite.com/tlhodia)

If you get triggered by topics concerning body image and weight loss then proceed with caution or don’t proceed at all.

I probably discuss way too much personal stuff online, but hey, who doesn’t appreciate a little oversharing every once in a while?

I have never been skinny or slim, let’s start there. Sure, I was a tiny baby, but that was about it. I have always been bigger than a lot of my classmates and even now I’m in no way built like a Victoria’s Secret model. Also, keep in mind that I’ve never been clinically obese or severely overweight. Got it? Cool.

Enter My Mom. She has been on my case to lose weight for as long as I remember. I admit, there were times when I was particularly chonky, but that’s beside the point. I remember being 8-9 years old when she spent over 15 minutes ridiculing and calling me out on how my spandex gym tights made noises as my thighs rubbed together during our uphill walk around the residential estate. She was also and still is, fond of pinching my “love-handles” (in quotes because if I remember “You can’t even call them love handles because you have nobody loving you.”),  with her long-ass, sharp nails whenever they appeared over the waistband of my pants.

(I’m not bitter or anything)

Essentially, 8-year-old me was told to lose weight enough times to try. I ate the food they gave me, and only what they gave me, and went on walks occasionally with My Mom (which I despised because I really didn’t leave the comfort of my room to be berated by my birth giver). I even started taking netball more seriously and started athletics training. What I also started doing was paying close attention to the bodies of girls around me and playing spot the difference. Not too long afterwards I learned to hate clothes shopping and hide in group photos. When I look through photo albums and my parent’s phone galleries now, it’s plain to see that I was an Olympic grade camera dodger.

Fast forward a few years. Now I’m 11-12 years old. I’ve grown taller and older, so my weight distribution has changed, but I’m still not skinny. My Mom is still on me to lose weight, even more so now that I’m older and maturing into “womanhood” because apparently, it is a crime to wear pants only a few sizes smaller than your mother of similar body structure and lesser height. Now that I’m older and more educated, I’ve realized that even though I was playing a sport and jogging and going for aerobics with my mom occasionally, I won’t get skinny unless I change my diet. In fact, there was a time when some government nurses came to do regional health checks at school and some data included body weight (there was a crowd around me when it was my turn to hop on the scale. The boys laughed, I went to the bathroom and cried. But it’s all good). The nurses then asked me questions about stuff like the bread we had at home, if I ate junk food or added sugar, stuff like that. That’s when it clicked. It clicked real hard.

A typical school lunch packed by My Mom comprised a hotdog/ham sandwich/homemade burger, a packet of chips/crisps and a juice box or Tropica when she was feeling generous. Which is what my brothers and a lot of my friends were packing to school with no problems: but I’m not built like those people so I can’t eat like them, right? The lunch had to go. And go it did. And so did pretty much all my other regular meals.

If My Mom was distracted with getting ready for work, I’d ditch breakfast and lie about it, then hop onto the school bus. Getting rid of the stuff in my lunchbox wasn’t too difficult to do because I had friends who were happy to help. This meant that for the first 12 hours of the day all I had was a juice box or nothing at all. It worked. My Mom noticed and complimented my improved physique along with a handful of relatives. But was I skinny? Not even.

Then came the Google searches. “How to lose weight quickly” “How to get skinny” “How to get a thigh gap” “How to lose thigh fat fast” Just to name a few.

That’s when I discovered the infamous pro-anorexia community. Or should I say that’s when they found me? I’m not too sure.

Over the school holidays, I started with the so-called “K-pop” diets and did YouTube workouts every night with more consistency than my prayer life. Two boiled eggs for breakfast, some milk for lunch (which was disastrous because apparently, I’m lactose intolerant), and for dinner… water, with or without lemon or tea. It really depended on the day. Not that hard to get away with, really. When the fat girl says they’re not hungry, who are you to force them?

But I couldn’t lose weight fast enough. Sure, slowly killing myself was working, but was I skinny? Nah.

So, I turned to “thinspo” and “pretty girl diet” challenges and "pro-ana" coaches to guide me. (If you're somebody who thinks it's okay to coax children into dangerous eating disorders and potentially death, you deserve a chair. But make it electric. Periodt.) My stomach was flattening, and my pants came on a lot easier, but the truth was I was utterly miserable. Getting skinny was all I thought about. And I’m not talking about Victoria’s Secret model skinny, I got to a point where I was jealous of the science lab skeleton, no jokes. Food wasn’t food anymore; it was just numbers and macros. I was always dizzy and cranky and my hair was falling out and even though I had done it for long enough to overcome the hunger pangs, there was a new pain, one that manifested in my chest and couldn’t be treated with sleep or Panado. I was the only one on holiday for three months, so nobody noticed.

I was twelve when I first tried to off myself with prescription drugs. All because I couldn’t be skinny and in my head that meant I couldn’t be pretty, or loved, or befriended. I woke up after a 8-hour “nap” to find that nothing had changed.

Why am I exposing myself by telling this story?

If you’re a parent or sibling or anyone who cares for a child who you think needs to lose weight for whatever reason (hopefully for health-related reasons, not purely aesthetics), please do not leave them to their own devices. They will search for authoritative guidance elsewhere, and the wrong people may find them. People who prescribe oxygen as a meal plan and perpetuate the notion that if you can pinch at your flesh, then you are ugly and will remain ugly until you are feather-light. Despite being one of the smartest kids in my grade, I still fell for it. (Update: I’m still not skinny. I probably only fucked up my metabolism and lost hair. -100/10, would not recommend to my worst enemy.)

Good news is at some point I got sick and tired of feeling the way I did. My suicide attempt failed miserably but instead of trying again, I uninstalled all my calorie counter and fitness apps, tossed all my magazines in the trash and talked to my mom and made it a point to talk to friends more, especially those who understood in some way or another. The Body Positivity movement was rising, and that helped a lot. Big ups to all the lovely people on YouTube who post videos on #recovery.

But experiences like this don’t just go away. You don’t forget and move on. I still have relapses, I still feel insurmountable guilt after eating, I still feel like I would rather eat baked rat than gain weight, I still go through binge-restrict cycles. All stemming from events that happened over 8 years ago.

My Mom had some level of good intention, I won't disregard that. People on her side of the family suffer from chronic illnesses that can all be prevented if not managed better through proper diet and exercise and she doesn't want her kids developing high blood pressure at age 13. Fine, I get it. But damn.

If you can avoid doing this to yourself or someone impressionable in your life, please do. Model healthy behaviours for your kids to adopt and talk health; not snatched waistlines, not thigh gaps nor scale readings. Teach your kids not to base the entirety of their worth on their appearance. And do not, under any circumstances, body shame them.

Please?

Once again, a lot of what is here is based on personal experience and opinion (‘coz it’s my blog, duh’). If you have separate ideas or any disagreements, bring them up in the comments or email me. I love a good debate.

Also, if you currently relate to anything mentioned in this post, take this as your sign to get better. Trust me, you're worth it.

xoxo

Erika

[writerofmanyfandoms]

My Girl

Summary: Requested!Tony StarkxPlusSized!Reader! Cap is one of Reader’s closest friends, and you just so happen to vent about your insecurities after a frustrating day of being out on the town. He confronts Tony about it, hoping to ease your mind.

Pairing: Tony Stark x PlusSized!Reader

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: fluff, insecurities

Author’s Note: A day late, but not too bad! Hope you all enjoy! A surprise story is coming out tomorrow! And then back to requests on Wednesday! Enjoy! c:

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or the characters. Also, I do not own this GIF, found on GIPHY

Hot tears stung your face as you made it into the compound. It was stupid, really. You knew that words shouldn’t hurt you, but they did. Ever since you began dating Tony Stark, your life had become more public than you were used to. You were semi used to some attention; you were an Avenger after all. However, it was safe to say Tony Stark was pretty famous, and it was all the buzz when he announced you were together.

You usually let the tabloids and media roll right off your shoulder. It didn’t bother you, why should it? It was just a bunch of cowards who were too afraid to say anything to your face. Luckily, good attention happened more than the bad. After all, you had saved people’s lives. Every blue moon though, there was one or two people who would mutter something, or a sleazy paparazzi asking to more of your thick body. That was when you wanted to melt into a couch and die.

Which is exactly how you were feeling right now. Your day started like any other day when you weren’t out on a mission. Breakfast with Tony, well sort of breakfast. It was mostly you eating and forcing him to have a quick snack. And something other than coffee. He went back to the lab with Bruce, leaving you to do whatever you’d like. You trained with Nat and Steve after breakfast and then grab lunch afterward. Today you decided to grab lunch alone, wanting to do some shopping.

Being plus sized and an avenger was different. You sometimes didn’t feel comfortable in a uniform, though Tony would always reassure you. Some people would comment about how they didn’t understand how a ‘fat girl’ could be with all of these superheroes, though your teammates were the first to defend you. They were your family, and you felt safe with them. Which was why you had decided to go to lunch with a tank top and some shorts, what you usually lounged around the compound with. You were eating a fast food burger, wanting something quick so you could grab Bruce and Tony lunch on the way out. When a group of girls walked by you. They were all thin and pretty, the type of girls you envied. As they passed, a girl couldn’t help but comment on you.

“I can’t believe Tony Stark would date someone like that. I mean, have you seen all of the other girls he used to date?”

“I know! I think he feels sorry for her.”

“Or maybe he has a fat girl fetish?!”

“I doubt it. He probably does that to make her feel better. But I bet he has plenty of side action. I mean, why be with someone like her when there are girls who look like us?”

They all laughed and moved on to discuss how cute they thought Tony was. Maybe they didn’t intend for you to hear, or maybe they did. It didn’t matter either way. You wanted to confront them, to call them out. But in your moment of weakness, you felt so horrible and took off home.

As soon as you got back to the compound, you were sitting at the bar top, eating a pint of vanilla ice cream. You were so lost in thought that you had no idea Steve was even around.

“Hey, what’s up? You look upset?” Steve asked, taking a bite of your ice cream as he leaned against the counter.

“Hrm? Oh, nothing.” You mumbled, not event easing him for eating your snack.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting differently. You know you can tell me. Did you and Tony have a fight?” The super soldier noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I just feel so inadequate. Look at me, Steve.” You groaned, pointing to your stomach.

“What about you?”

“You’re kidding. Look at how fat I am. Why is Tony even with me? He probably feels sorry for me. He probably thinks I am a charity case. He probably has so many slim supermodel side pieces. He doesn’t need me.” It felt nice to vent to Steve; he was always really easy to talk to. You didn’t want to bother Tony with these feelings. After all, he would just deny anything.

“You don’t really think all of that? Tony loves you, Y/N. He is so crazy about you. Did he say something to make you feel like that?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head no.

Just as you were beginning to explain what had actually happened, Nat and Wanda texted you saying it was important.

“We can finish this conversation later. I think Wanda is looking for some advice on presents for Vision.” Steve gave you a side hug, letting you know it would be okay.

~

“What if we used this formula? I think it would turn out better.” Tony explained as Bruce began writing notes down.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Steve said, entering the lab.

“Not really, what’s up Cap?” Tony asked, looking up from his work.

“It’s about Y/N. I feel like it’s something you should be aware of. She is feeling pretty down today. Apparently, something happened, and she is feeling down about herself. You didn’t say anything to her, did you?” He asked, crossing his arms, a concerned look over his face.

“Of course not, why is it that you are blaming me? What is she upset about?” He interrogated, setting his stuff down.

“Well, she is feeling pretty insecure. Called herself fat, but she left before she could tell me why she is feeling like that. I was just trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“Why would she feel like that? I’m going to go talk to her. Why would she tell you?”

“She probably didn’t want you to worry about her,” Steve said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Bruce, I’ll be back. Think you can handle this by yourself?” Tony asked, taking off his lab coat.

“You go on, I’ll be fine,” Bruce said, waving him off.

~

You were sprawled out on yours and Tony’s bed, scrolling through Instagram. You couldn’t help but to feel envious of the other women, why couldn’t you be skinny like them? You hadn’t even noticed Tony coming in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, walking into the room. You quickly sat up and nodded your head.

“Of course I am, why?”

“Well, a certain patriotic eagle was saying otherwise. Something about you feeling insecure?” As soon as he said this you groaned, running a hand through your hair.

“Steve told you?!”

“Yes, and why did I have to find out from him? Why didn’t you come and tell me?” Tony asked, hurt in his voice. “We have been together for a couple of years now; you know I love you. You can tell me things.”

“Because it’s silly. I know I shouldn’t listen to other people. I knew you would tell me not to worry, and that you think I am beautiful. But I am not. I’m fat, and you only feel bad for me.” You said, your tone rushed as more tears formed at your eyes. Before you could blink, Tony had his arms around you, holding you tight.

“Oh, baby. I love you.” He whispered, kissing on your cheek. “Yes, you aren’t skinny. But who cares? You are healthy and gorgeous. I love every millimeter of your body. I love the curves; I love exploring your body. I love every bit about you. You are beyond amazing. I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you. You are this sassy woman, who is every bit of kind as she is courageous and fierce. You kick ass, and I wonder what I did to deserve a woman like you. You are patient, and always remind me to eat. When I work too much you make sure I get some rest, even if it’s just me lying in bed.”

“Do you really mean that?” You asked, pulling away so you could study his face.

“You know I do honey. You’re my girl. I will always love you.”

“And I will always love you too Tony Stark.” You said with a smile, brushing your lips against his.

[dragonindigo245]

So I know there’s a superhero AU for the sides but consider... supervillain?

Bare with me. This is going to seem really funky but I figured why not? In this AU Thomas is a superhero and the sides are supervillains. Here’s a semi-breif- Oh nvm this is way to long. Woop dee doo. Feel free to scroll away if you don’t want a long AU. If you’re into that... here’s some character descriptions!

Thomas

•Thomas is a YouTuber who vlogs and is known for his small skits and vines. His most popular series after vine died though is his Awkward Adventures.

•He collabs with his friend Remy to do some “sleep” skits.

•He used to collab with Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil back when vine was around too but they hardly knew each other.

•Thomas hardly remembers them besides a few off set jokes.

•Thomas was born with the powers of flight, super speed, and to feel emotions.

•He can’t alter them but he does try to help others like the good person he is.

•Actually was convinced by Emile to take up superhero work. Emile didn’t mean it in the “go beat up bad guys” way but here they are.

•Everyone knows Thomas identity. He doesn’t hide it.

•Joan and Taylon designed him a superhero outfit. It is basically a white jumpsuit with rainbow cuffs and a giant, glowing rainbow star symbol in the middle. There’s also an epic rainbow cape to go with it.

•He doesn’t view the supervillains as bad guys, but rather broken people. He only uses physical force if they attack him. Otherwise he try’s to convince them to turn themselves in. Course it doesn’t work all that well but he tries.

•He doesn’t go by anything besides Thomas. He doesn’t need a superhero name to be super.

Patton

•Patton has two kids who go by Fiona and Liam (The kids from vine) and is a single parent.

•Their dirt poor and often have trouble scraping by. His kids don’t even go to school due to school fees.

•He declines any money from his friends and his family has given him all they can. They aren’t as poor as Patton but also aren’t comfortable.

•Logan actually comes by Patton’s house weekly to try and tutor them to his best abilities. In certain subjects they know more than kids there age but in some their lacking.

•Patton was born with the powers to alter emotions and to fly.

•He actually alters his own emotions so he can remain happy around other people.

•Problem is that only represses them for later. When he’s alone he’s a total mess.

•He started going into crime around 5 years after he adopted his kids, when poverty was at its max.

•He doesn’t have a job unfortunately because he was to low on money to send the kids to school, hence not having time for a job.

•Pat only does crime for the money so his kids can eat and he can keep his apartment. He really hates it though.

•He doesn’t have a supervillain costume but he wears the typical black mask superhero mask along with his cat hoodie.

•Despite hating crime, he’s the best at it compared to the others. He can actually be really intimidating when he needs to be.

•The only crimes he has committed are robbery, attempted murder (course he would never actually kill someone), and trespassing.

•His kids don’t know he’s a supervillain and he intends to keep it that way. They have gotten dangerously close though.

•He hasn’t been captured yet.

•He still calls Virgil his “dark, strange son”.

•Virgil accepts this and the kids treat him like an older brother.

•Patton was the one who got Virgil into eyeshadow surprisingly.

•Patton actually hasn’t gotten hurt by Thomas. He munipulates his emotions to make him not hurt him. Thomas has stopped him from doing whatever crime every single time though.

•His supervillain name is Curse, due to him wearing a cat hoodie and the whole black cats have bad luck thing. Also based on him often using fear to keep enemies away.

Logan

•He lives in a two room apartment, one room always remains locked and with a few modifications, made the door booby trapped.

•Only he knows how to get past them without destroying them.

•There’s actually a booby trap designed to go off if you destroy the door trap.

•He often tutors kids other than Patton’s. However they know what they should be learning so their significantly easier to tutor than Fiona and Liam.

•He received his powers in illegal experimentation though he was a test subject so he wasn’t in much trouble.

•Really he just had a migraine for a few days and suddenly he could lift an entire couch with one arm.

•His powers are unique. He is quite literal when he says “Knowledge is power.” His strength is based on how much intellect he possesses.

•Currently he can lift 2,000 pounds comfortably. This does mean he can lift some cars.

•Ironically because he looks so skinny, people tell him he should go to the gym so he’s able to hold his own in a fight.

•If you mention a new topic to him he doesn’t know much about, he will get a splitting headache and he is almost incapable of resisting researching it. He will become hyper fixated on it for like a month.

•His supervillain costume is a black jumpsuit along with a black bandana. Patton stitched in a black hood to the jumpsuit because Logan was worried that he could leave a hair at the scene of the crime, and get caught. He also extanges his glasses for contacts.

•He commits crimes the least often compared to everyone else, only doing so to unleash bottled up anger. When he gets angry enough for that though, all hell breaks lose.

•His first crime was commited in his softmore year of High School.

•His crimes include homoside, arson (don’t ask where the fire came from), assault, kidnapping, property destruction, and finally trespassing.

•He has been captured twice but has gotten away before they could unmask him.

•His supervillain name is Mind Bender because he wasn’t exactly discrete how his powers work. Really Thomas just came up with it on the fly and the media loved it.

Roman

•Roman lives in a two bedroom apartment with his roommate Remy who knows of Romans identity.

•Thankfully Remy doesn’t give a shit unless Roman intrupts his life with it. He had to take an oath not to tell anyone as long as Roman doesn’t bother the Starbucks industry.

•Remy may not care Romans’ a supervillain, but he will keep his identity a secret because he doesn’t go back on his word.

•Roman was considered to be a magnificent actor but was disgraced once Remus became a supervillain.

•He now works for a modeling company... as a photographer.

•He loathes he can’t be a model himself but doesn’t make a fuss about it.

•Honestly being the photographer is just rubbing salt in the wound for him.

•His powers include the ability to make anyone enamored with him and he counts his reflexes as a power even though it isn’t. He’s just crazy talented.

•His powers actually were a hex from Virgil, as a way to able him to be a supervillain. He also has been begging Virgil to give him the power to communicate with animals but Virgil has told him to wait for awhile.

•Problem is, his powers actually make him more prone to falling in love. Magic always takes its toll.

•He’s actually once had 3 relationships in one week before. It was just sad.

•After losing the acting carrier, he became extremely greedy and obsessed with riches. You can imagine why he is a supervillain.

•He started becoming a supervillain around the 2 month mark for his photography job.

•His list of crimes are theft, robbery, shoplifting, arson (again nobody knows where they get the fire), manslaughter, and kidnapping.

•Though with the kidnapping he literally did it to spite the ladies boyfriend. Really nothing happened to her. She sat in a dark room, tied to a chair, having a debate with Roman which Kardashian was the best. Then the police showed up and Roman jumped out a window.

•Romans outfit is the same princely getup as in the series and a white and gold masquerade mask. Also a gold crown that he bought himself. He carries a sword as well to aid in battle but he uses it as an accessory all the same.

•Patton once swapped Romans’ crown for a Burger King crown in the middle of a heist. He didn’t even realize until Patton handed him his original crown like half an hour later.

•There is viral camera footage of this event. Roman is still a bit bitter towards him but secretly finds it funny.

•He has been caught five times (every time he went on a heist with Remus) and has had his secret identity revealed in private by a few cops. They were all killed by Remus before they could tell anyone.

•Technically Roman owes Remus.

•His supervillain name is Prince for obvious reasons. Remus claimed him as his sidekick immediately so that helped the name decision.

•Everyone thinks Remus is Romans sidekick though. Nobody believes Roman is the lesser one here.

Virgil

•Virgil lives in a 3 bedroom, house with Dee and Remus.

•He’s actually been alive since the dark ages.

•Currently he works at a Hot Topic.

•He’s a supervillain because he is actually a serial killer. Virgil loathes this fact though and tries to repress it as much as he can.

•His powers come from a spell book he has. He can do electrical magic and some illusion magic without help from the book but otherwise he has to read it from the pages in combat. Easy to do with cops, hard to do with superhero’s.

•The spellbook however gives the user intense fear for as long as it’s left open. He tries not to use it to much.

•One time however he literally collapsed and had a panic attack while fighting Thomas. Thomas actually stopped fighting and helped Virgil through it though.

•The athoreties showed up with Virgil proped up ageist the wall beside Thomas. He willingly came but wouldn’t allow for his identity to be seen. He was rescued by Logan later on before he had to go to court.

•Virgil has been detained twice, the first time being him beaten down, the second time him willingly going.

•His outfit is a black cloak along with the rest of his body wearing black. He has fingerless gloves too. His face is hidden by a simple black bandana.

•His supervillain name is Shock, in both the electrical way and emotion way. Another one Thomas came up with.

Dee

Well for starters I just found out how to do this easier. Okay anyways resuming.

Deceit goes by Dee or Dec. He refuses to tell anyone his name. If they ask he says something like “Karen” or “Linda”.

He doesn’t have a job for this reason.

Oh and the fact he can’t cover his identity very well so he’s on the run from the law.

He was involved in the same experimentation Logan went through, but was tested for something different.

Long story short: His body ended up going through the extremely painful process of growing scales on his right half of his body, his canines (teeth not dog) grew into poison filled fangs, and his tounge became thin and forked. An unfortunate side effect was him going blind in his right eye.

He was the one who actually got the experiments shut down.

He was treated as a freak of nature and feared. Eventually he developed the mindset that society was a lie and it needed to be torn apart.

So I guess now he wants an anarchy.

He’s also a narcissistic liar so he fits the role of a snake.

His powers are being immune to physical damage on his right side, and having a venomous bite.

He wears the same bowler hat and everything he originally wears. There is no need to change when you can’t conceal your identity.

He’s actually terrified of snakes despite being part one. Unfortunately snakes are attracted to him.

Remus constantly reminds him that snakes can have two d-

He started a few years ago with his whole anarchy thing from Orlando but Thomas quickly put a stop to it.

His list of crimes just... keep going... it’s to extensive but let’s just say genoside is on there.

His supervillain name is Deceit. He made it himself.

Remus

Ho boy the real train wreck.

He’s currently hiding at Virgil’s place along with Dee.

He is not mentally stable enough to have a job. He’s also the most wanted person in America. This guy can’t get a job.

He’s literally chewed his way out of a straight jacket. This mans unhinged.

His powers? Nobody knows where he got them. Probably used Virgil’s spell book.

His powers are teleportation and shapeshifting.

Leads to some interesting interactions.

He has the achievement of being the only person Thomas has genuinely lost his cool with.

Remus doesn’t conceal his identity. His outfit is just his normal duke outfit he wears everywhere.

I mean when the police first showed up on his first heist he was eating a dollar bill and introduced himself as, “Remus, but you can call me Duke.”

He’s frankly terrifying.

He’s committed every crime in the book. Tax evasion to mass homocide.

His villain name is Duke and it is a household name across America.

Somebody get this man under control oh my god.

So there’s the character bios. Here’s some little tad bits of information!

Emile Picani is both Thomas and Virgil’s therapist.

Virgil hasn’t told him about being a supervillain but oh he knows.

Emile very discreetly is trying to get him to be better one step at a time.

All the supervillains logos were designed by the media.

“Curse” And “Mind Bender” are apparently I dinamic duo on the internet?

Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil often team up. Their not official team members or anything but just good friends.

The four often try to pull each other out of crime. For example someone will anonymously give Patton some money, keeping Logan calm, ect.

Virgil used to team up with Deceit and Remus all the time but slowly started to pull away due to them being absolutely unhinged.

Fiona and Liam actually are friends with Thomas.

Remus can actually be quite calm around Deceit and Roman. There can’t be anyone else in the room though.

Thomas is very insistent on finding everyone’s identities and helping them out.

Remy actually knows everyone’s identities besides Virgil’s but because the unhinged ones are already known, he doesn’t care.

Virgil and Roman will sometimes come over to Patton’s house to give him a much needed break from being a single parent.

Logan and Dee are actually extremely good friends and have been since the experimentation. Everyone is pretty good friends with everyone but those two are a whole new level of friends. The others are convinced they might have telepathic powers between each other.

Emile and Remy often hang out together and chat about whatever.

Welp there’s that! I’ll probably be writing some stuff for this so stay tuned! Enjoy the rest of your day!

[lonely-bored-writer]

Winchesters meet the Phantoms Ch. 15

"SCHOOLS OUT WE DON'T CARE" Danny laughed from behind his phone, recording his two friends as they sang rather loudly. He was definitely keeping this one. "NA NANA NA NANA NA"

"Okay boys." Sam spoke once all their laughter died down as they walked down the sidewalk leaving the school behind them. She threw her arms over "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to the malls and get a new clothes for this summer."

"But Sammmmmm" Tucker whined, placing his PDA into his pockets.

"We're broke." Danny finished, wrapping his arm around Sam's torso while Tuck did the same. "No all of us can change up our wardrobes whenever we feel." Sam flashed her two friends a grin.

"My mum gave me her credit card and told me to go ham." Sam laughed when Danny and Tuck each raised a hand and whooped.

"We're not throwing away our shot." Tuck spoke, earning a groan from his two friends causing him to smirk. "Hey, we only just watched Hamilton on Broadway okay"

"Last summer Tuck."

"The mall is less pack than I expected." Sam mused, leading the way to the first shop on their stop. Hot topic. The people were the normal crowd, no more crowded with schooling being officially out and graduation in just a two weeks. Not that any of them are complaining.

"Okay, so how are you guys going to completely change my style this time?" Danny asked, smiling politely at the worker that greeted them in the store.

"I'm thinking more skinny jeans." Sam mused, looking over to Tucker while Danny sighed behind the two.

"Oh, you told me to remind you to get him more over-sized tops." Tuck jumped in, smirking at Danny's groan. "And shorts... I think you wanted to try him out in crop tops too."

"Guys, I'm already the shortest. The large clothes will only dwarf me." Danny whined, following his friends as they piled things together. "Guysssss"

"You don't oppose of the crop tops?" Sam asked, holding up a tied dyed supernatural crop top. "I think Dean and Sam would love this." Sam laughed.

"Whatever you do to me, we're doing to Tucker." Danny bargained.

"Deal." Sam nodded, turning back to the wracks of clothing. Danny grinned and cheered while Tucker groaned. Danny's grin widened when he heard the worker nearby laughed at their antics.

"I don't a choose in this!" Tucker cried, seeing Sam hold a pair of army booty shorts and crop top before him.

"Nope." Sam Chimed, tossing them onto the pile. Sometimes being the one in charge of paying for everything had it's perks, and guess what? She's not throwing away her shot.

"We got a lot." Danny mused, looking over at the large bags resting beside and under the table the trio sat in. The bags ranged from H&M, Forever 21, Spencer's, Hot Topic, Pink, etc. To Danny it felt like they just drained Pamela Manson's bank account but he was pretty certain they barely made a dent. Though, Pamela will probably be pissed that Sam spent money on her 'boyfriend'.

"And now we have food." Tucker grinned looking over the food. There was churro mania, Cajun Cafe, and burger king. He rubbed his hand ready to dig in when...

"There's an... angel?" Danny's words broke Tucker from his food stare, turning to see who it was Danny was talking about. Sitting only a few table away from them was a man with blonde hair and blue eyes, eating a burger king whooper.

"He's not hurting anyone, it's fine."Tucker bit into his sandwich and groaned when his best friend stood walking over to said angel. Tucker looked over to Sam, who shrugged.

"We give him ten minutes, if he's not we go over?" She offered, stealing a fry from him. Tucker nodded, that could work for him besides who would want to waste all this delicious food?

"What are you doing here?" Danny asked the moment he took a seat across the man who looked up with a raised eyebrow. Okay, so maybe Danny could have ignored the angel and enjoyed his day with his friends... but this angel was weird. After Gabriel, that's saying something.

"Enjoying a whooper." The angel responded, glancing around the mall. "That a problem kid?" Danny watched the wings stretch behind the man. he was trying to intimidate him.

"Angels aren't very common here." Instantly the man's eyes narrowed. "I'm also curious about your wings. Why... hot pink and sparkly?"A look crossed the man's face before he leaned back with a smirk.

"So, your the kid everyone's been talking about." The man smirked, his wings flaring out before resting back against his back. "I'm Lucifer."

"... That doesn't answer my question." Danny deadpanned, only earning a raised brow from the older being.

"I tell you I'm Satan and you're more curious about my wings?"

"Eh, I met the king of hell the other day." Danny shrugged. "I'm even leaving with a hell-hound. Hell, I met your brother Gabriel Monday. Whose Next? Micheal? Raphael? Uriel?"

"To have Gabriel paying you visit,must mean you really are special." Lucifer glanced over Danny's shoulder, before looking back at the teen. "A thing like you with human friends? That's quite odd."

"Says the fallen angel." Danny glared, eyes flashing green.

"You're giving me chills." Lucifer smirked, taking another bite from his sandwich.

"You're different than I expected." Danny mused, watching the archangel. "You seem to human for the devil, or an angel... But then again there is Gabriel." Lucifer smirked.

"You're odd for not running away when you found out you were talking to Lucifer himself."

"Eh, I've dealt with scarier things." Danny challenged, leaning back.

"Oh now, let's share stories and braid each other's hair." Lucifer grinned leaning forward.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't all that comfortable finding out you have Satan's number." Tucker grumbled, glancing over his shoulder at the fallen angel as the trio left.

"I'm just sad I didn't get to talk to him." Sam sighed, shifting the bags on her arms. "I have so many questions."

"You could always call him." Danny responded, not surprised his friends had completely opposite reactions to this. "His number is purely sixes."

"Living up to the stereotype, nice." Sam laughed, her eyes landed on the phone screen held out to her. Aside from the number, the contact name caught her eyes."Pink wings?" Tucker popped his head from behind Sam's shoulder and laughed.

"You guys won't believe this, but his wings are hot pink and they even sparkle." This pulled a laugh from all the teens as they slowly nearing Sam's house for a movie night.

"Satan just keeps getting better and better." Sam grinned, flashing the elderly couple who walked by with an innocent smile and they glared at the trio. "We should invite all the people you've met to my place."

"Can you imagine the hell that would go down?" Tucker groaned at the thought. "Wait... does that mean you'll meet God!?"

"Lord who knows." Danny sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of claws against the concrete. "Hey Juliet, I'm going to assume you were with Crowley." Danny greeted the dog causing Sam and Tucker to glance around a bit.

"I really wish I could see her" Sam sighed, the only inclination the hell-hound was there was a soft huff beside Danny.

"I'm happy not seeing a hell-hound thank you very much." Tucker's words caused his other friends to laugh. "What! Normally when you see one you're going to die!"

[tnffc]

Steter with 21? I love your writing so much btw!!

Ok so, I hope I used the right propt post, which would mean this was “best friend’s sibling au”

It took me quite some time to come up with a version here that worked for me but I am finally done!

So have some very alternative steter:

_________________________________________

Stiles grinned when he saw the beautiful house in the woods come into view.

And he grinned even wider when he saw his best friend Derek step out onto the front porch as he parked his old jeep next to the two other cars.

He got out and Derek shook his head with a smile.

“I can’t believe you are still driving that old thing, it’s a miracle it hasn’t broken apart right underneath your butt yet.”

Stiles patted roscoe’s hood.

“Don’t listen baby, he couldn’t understand the bond we share.”

That made the werewolf raise his eyebrows in the trademark Hale way.

“Should I be jealous?”

After Stiles got his duffle back out of the trunk he jogged up the stairs and went right in for a bear hug with Derek.

“Don’t worry dude, you’ll always be my number one best friend.”

He felt the warm, throaty laugh from Derek rumbling through both their chests and a reassuring hand in the middle of his back.

“I am glad to know that. Now come in dumbass, dinner is almost ready.”

~*~

Catching up with Derek and eating home made burgers was awesome and Stiles just then realized how much he had missed being able to do that while both of them had been away for college.

Time had flown by so fast and before they knew it it had almost been two years since they last had had physical contact.

Of course they had texted and skyped now and then, but it just wasn’t the same as hanging out and spending some quality time.

Derek had gotten even taller and broader it seemed, but Stiles realized he himself had grown as well, because now he was almost Derek’s height, although nowhere near his general size.

And of course werewolf physique meant the guy was able to maintain his muscled appearance just by being.

But Stiles had long stopped envying that. He was doing alright himself, college had taught him that much.

“You got really good at preparing food dude, I was worried all you might eat in college was raw meat from animals you hunted yourself or something.”

Derek grinned.

“I had a short ramen noodle phase, but then I met Braeden and she introduced me to the passion of preparing food, especially for others.”

Stiles smiled as his friend talked about the woman he loved and at the same time really wished he had somebody who made him smile that way.

“Man, you have to introduce her to me while I am visiting. I want to get to know the person that has you grinning like that. She must be amazing.”

Derek kept grinning and his cheeks turned a little red “She really is.”

Stiles took a gulp from his soda before putting it back down.

“I am so glad you got someone, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

And Derek looked down onto his plate with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Stiles.”

“Only the truth buddy.”

~*~

They were sitting in the living room and playing video games like back in school. Normally A werewolf would easily beat a human, but Stiles’ mother had been the pack’s emissary before she died and Stiles had inherited her magical powers, so he always used a little bit of magic to level the playing field.

It was only fair.

Derek said “Someone just arrived” and moments later the front door opened and not long after someone walked into the living room.

“Derek, who is parking in my usu-”

Peter Hale, looking just as delicious as Stiles remembered, wearing a white v-neck, leather jacket and skinny jeans looked down at Stiles.

Stiles, who was ungracefully sitting on the floor with the controller in hand like a goblin with a treasure and the chewed up lid of his bottle of soda between his teeth.

Derek cleared his throat.

“Peter, you remember Stiles? My best friend from school?”

Peter smirked.

“Oh right, the fact you are chewing on plastic should have reminded me. Even though I was mostly away in college during Derbear’s high school years.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me that. You were mostly away partying if anything. Just in case your memory is as bad as his, this is Peter my quasi big brother.”

Stiles nodded.

“Yeah I remember. He is actually your uncle, but only six years older than you and you grew up like siblings. And if I remember correctly you were studying to become a lawyer. right?”

Peter and Derek both gave him the Hale eyebrows of curiosity.

Derek with a side of judgement, Peter with a side of- something…

“Yes.” Peter confirmed then “You are correct. I’m actually on a good way to becoming county attorney.”

At that Derek pretended to fall asleep and snored loudly.

“Go brag somewhere else asshole, we want to continue playing the game.”

Peter shrugged “I have work to do anyway.” and then turned on the spot to go upstairs.

Stiles looked at his back -and ass- as he left.

When he was certain Peter was upstairs and would not hear him whispering he looked up to his friend.

“So since he’s still living here, Peter hasn’t chosen a mate yet?”

Derek made a face at the question.

“Ewww Stiles, please tell me you aren’t thinking about boning my brother.”

Stiles tilted his head.

“Yeah I guess that would be weird huh?”

For a moment Derek just stared into nothing and then he sighed deeply.

“No…I get why you would…you two would actually kind of fit together…it’s just…he is not the type to settle down and I really don’t want to get caught in the crossfire when it ends badly.”

Interesting.

“I get what you mean, but nothing could ever change the friendship we have. And I am not looking to settle down either. What I find fascinating is the fact you aren’t at all doubting he would be into me.”

Derek snorted.

“You are Hale catnip Stiles. Have you forgotten Cora, Laura and my cousin Anthony? Mum would probably consider you her favorite child if that was socially acceptable and we have been best friends since first day of kindergarten. Of course Peter would be into you.”

Yes Stiles remembered how obsessed the entire Hale family was with him. He had actually considered Peter a bit of an exception because the guy had never given him as much as a second glance.

“Huh…” he said non-committal and then turned back to the game.

“My turn, I chose rainbow road.”

Derek groaned and let his head fall back onto the couch cushions.

“You really are just as much of an asshole as Peter…”

~*~

When it was 3am Stiles and Derek both decided it was time to head to bed.

The days of pulling all-nighters just for fun were behind them it seemed.

But it had still been a great day and Stiles was looking forward to the next two days.

He also slept in the guest room this time, mostly because he didn’t want to bother them get out a mattress and bedding and shove all that into Derek’s room when there was a perfectly ok bed to sleep in.

He didn’t need the high school experience that badly.

They wished each other goodnight and Stiles went to unpack what he needed for the night.

A sniff at his shirt then told him he really should take a shower before bed.

He wouldn’t want to insult anybody’s sensitive nose after all.

In his boxers and with a towel he made his way to the bathroom only to find Peter in his pajama pants already waiting in front of it.

The door was locked and there was the noise of the running shower coming from the inside.

He rubbed his neck.

“So Derek beat us to it I assume, shouldn’t take long…”

Peter shook his head.

“It’s Laura, she apparently decided to sleep over since she has a case here. Even though her office would definitely pay for a hotel.”

You could hear the frustration in the guy’s voice and Stiles tilted his head.

“You don’t like your sister staying over?”

Stiles got a thickly sweet smile back, he knew Peter probably used it with difficult people at work all the time.

“She has the habit to take forever and to use up all the warm water.”

Yeah ok, that was a bit annoying.

“I see.”

They stood there for a while in silence.

Then finally Stiles decided that was getting too awkward.

He tried to come up with a harmless conversation starter.

Unfortunately the first thing that came to mind while looking at Peter was maybe not the best question for that.

He apparently had stared too long because Peter caught his eyes and gave him a sly smile.

“Take a picture darling, I am very photogenic.”

“I thought werewolf eyes ruin the shot…”

There was a soft chuckle.

“You can learn to control it. I can’t be a public figure and all my pictures turn out bad.”

That made sense.

“Smart. I was actually kind of wondering where your pack tattoo is…but I feel like that might be an insensitive question.”

Peter seemed to consider his response while staring at Stiles.

“Most werewolves put it on a relatively good visible spot so they can be identified as part of their respective pack. I prefer to keep my cards a bit closer. It is on the inside of my left thigh. I-”

Before Peter could say whatever he had wanted to say next the door of the bathroom flew open.

“Oh my god Peter, I swear if you offer Stiles to show him your tattoo I am going to barf. I can smell both of your interest through the fucking door.”

Peter glared at her.

“Is there warm water left?”

She gave him a mean grin “Maybe a little, have fun asshole. Good night Stiles, great to see you again. And if you let Peter fuck you I’ll be disappointed.”

And with that she left both of them.

They gave each other a glance and Peter went to see if the water still ran hot.

“She didn’t lie. Maybe you should go first Stiles, I will survive taking a cold shower.”

Wow, considering what Derek and the others usually said about Peter that was uncharacteristically considerate.

The man seemed to read his thoughts.

“Don’t take all they say at face value Stiles. I can be very nice if I think somebody deserves it.”

Stiles was a bit confused.

“And I do?”

Peter came closer and grinned.

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise. Now take the offer or leave it before I decide I’m an unredeemable asshole after all.”

His thoughts were running fast to come to a decision and suddenly he had a terrible, aweful, delightful idea.

He gave Peter a sly grin himself and stepped into the man’s space.

“We could always just share. Might be a good opportunity to show me that tattoo.”

Peter did not step back and instead licked his lips.

“What about Derek? Or Laura’s disapproval?”

Stiles made another step and their bodies touched, chest to chest, face to face.

“Derek said we would be a good fit and who says I have to be the one getting fucked. Unless you aren’t up for it.”

Peter’s eyes were full of mischievous joy.

“I am up alright.”

“Then let’s get clean.”

[memories-of-a-sleever]

Let's ramble for starters...

I had thought about making a tumblr for a while now, mainly to use as a personal diary. Something I can look back on as my journey progresses and remember where I came from. Because that's important. You never appreciate where are if you can't look back on where you've been. I don't know who said that, someone much more inspirational than me. I suppose since I took this long to start my Tumblr, I'd better start from the beginning.

Let's start with the basics. My name is redacted. I am an Australian gay guy in his mid to late 30s. I have a wonderful partner of many years, a steady job and own my own house. I love Nintendo, Pokémon Go, comics and Marvel (Both the movies and the comics). 

Oh, one more tiny thing. I also love food. I love food more than I probably should, and let's be real. I've always loved food. I can remember loving food from a very early age. I love the taste of food, I love trying new food, I love socialising with people over food. I obviously love food too much, and this shows through my habits, my weekly food spend and most importantly my body.

My body has been ravaged by food all my life. I don't think there was ever a time that I was skinny or a regular weight. I was a chubby kid, who turned into a fat teenager, who turned into a morbidly obese adult. There's a fucking awful thing to be called. Morbidly Obese. It makes you feel like you are so disgustingly fat that you belong in a freakshow. Whoever coined that term, you are a cunt. Unfortunately, facts are facts America; I am morbidly obese. I currently weight 196kg (432 pounds for those not on the Metric system). I am currently the heaviest I have EVER weighed and I have myself to blame.

I don't think I remember a time as a kid or teenager when my mum (who is also a larger lady) wasn't on a diet or forcing me to be on a diet. They never lasted long, and some of my most prominent memories are my mum and I sneaking treats when we should be dieting. I remember hating the diets though. We would eat diet food that always had that artificial sweetener taste that I fucking hate and we would have super restrictive food intake. Although, it probably wasn't as restrictive as I remember it to be, but I just remember being REALLY hungry a lot of the time. 

I would cheat a lot on my diets. Sometimes, I would have a spoonful of milo to get that sugar hit I was craving, or a spoonful of peanut butter. Always spoonfuls of things, because you can't get caught for that. No-one keeps track of EXACTLY how much of something is in a jar, so if the spoonfuls are small enough you can absolutely get away with it. I remember that my mum used to pack me diet yoghurt in my school lunches, which of course I hated. So I used to trade them for nicer food with a kid at my school. I don't think we were even friends, so looking back I don't know if she had a body image issue and wanted diet food (Cause she wasn't big by any stretch) or maybe she just liked me. I guess I'll never know. The point is, I cheated. A lot. 

I remember always feeling like I was in a constant state of misery or shame. I'm sure I remember things way more intensely than they actually happened, but I guess they're the only memories I have. So I hate dieting. Always have, probably always will. When I became an independent adult, i.e - living out of home and earning my own money, I decided I didn't want to diet anymore. I wanted to enjoy my life. And I did. I spent over 10 years, basically eating what I wanted and doing what I wanted.

I remember when I was at home by myself one night, I cooked an Enchilada kit and then ate the whole thing. Those kits have 8 servings in them. So I ate 8 servings of Enchilada in one sitting. On eating the 6th or 7th enchilada I started to feel overfull, but I kept going. I've learned to hide any evidence of eating poorly by ingesting the evidence and that's what I did. When I finished the 8th enchilada, I felt so ill. My stomach was bloated like I've never felt before and was physically hurting. I actually thought I was going to burst my stomach and I was panicked and embarassed and sore. Turns out, your stomach can put up with a lot of torture from you. After a few hours, it righted itself. Needless to say, this is a moment that I remember with pure horror. I was so embarassed and I knew it was wrong, but I kept going. I kept eating whatever I wanted.

Now, anyone who isn't fat or has never been fat probably wont understand this, but I was a fairly healthy fat person. I could run if I wanted to (Though rarely did), my breathing was fine, I didn't have diabetes and my blood sugar and pressure were always normal measurements. All those things that they tell you will happen to you if you are a fatty. They didn't happen to me. My doctor would always say to me that I should lose weight, and that he wished he could tell me that I was unhealthy because of it to motivate me, but it just wasn't the case. I was able to live a fairly normal life. I mean, I still got the stares in public, the children whispering about me to their parents, I still felt uncomfortable on a plane (I'll come back to that another time >_>) and had trouble finding nice clothes that fit me, but more or less I lived a happy life.

When I was about 24 I think, I had my first real relationship. I had wanted a relationship for a while, but never had the guts to talk to anyone or ask them out. Truth be told, I probably didn't understand why they would want to go out with me. I was the exact opposite of what the world tells us we should want to be or be with. Just to be clear, because for some reason I need it stated I was not unfamiliar with the more carnal desires of life, just the relationship part, as a teenager I experimented with every person who was willing on the down low. Probably partly because of my shame with being gay at that age and partly with my shame of being fat. It doesn't really lend itself to self worth. Anyway, my first relationship. 

I was with a guy who I suspected at the time, but confirmed towards the end, was a chubby chaser. He liked bigger guys, and that worked for me at the time. He was attractive and we made it work for a good few years. We did the normal things; dated, moved in together, bought each other promise rings. I started to get REALLY comfortable and happy. And when I'm happy, I like to increase the happiness with my old friend food. I was in charge of cooking most nights, so we would usually have food that I liked; burgers, nachos, stir frys. We would go out for dinner at least 2-3 times a week. Couple that with the fact that I would buy lunch at work and lived a fairly sedentary lifestyle playing video games and understandably, my weight started to increase. 

This is when I started to become sneaky in my relationship too. I would come home from work early and cook myself a burger before dinner, or if I worked from home I would get a bunch of junk food and eat it all before my partner came home. If you are trying to figure out how much junk food that is, an example could be: A pack of donuts, a 2L coke, a bag of chips, a family packet of M&Ms and a packet of shapes. I don't remember when I got to this weight, but I think I was around the 150-160kg mark at this stage.

Looking back, I suspect that I had become too big, even for my chubby chaser boyfriend because he started to flirt with a guy at work, he told me it was harmless and meant nothing, but when I came home from work one day and they were in our apartment building's hot tub together I knew it wasn't nothing. Those were some of the hardest days of my life. I broke up with him on my birthday, when I could tell he just didn't care less about me anymore. He cried and made me feel bad about my decision, but by the next week he had started dating the guy he was flirting with. I was pretty heartbroken. Looking back, it's a sad memory but at the same time it worked out for the best, and also those two didn't last long so they can go fuck themselves XD.

The months after the breakup brought on a level of depression I had never felt before and I learned I have a VERY different reaction to depression than I expected, but I will add to this later.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not So Happy

Summary: Dean and the reader have to pretend to be married to work a case. The only thing is they aren’t getting along...

Square: Fake Married

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,300ish

Rating: teen (some language)

A/N: Written/created for @spnaubingo

“Sam,” you said, standing outside your car, hand on your hip. “Don’t get me wrong, Dean’s great. But you want me to pretend to be married to him?”

“It’s a couples only resort, Y/N. Dean and I can’t exactly work this one ourselves. Not without killing each other ten seconds in,” said Sam. “You guys work together great. What’s the problem?”

“Well that makes two of us that don’t want to kiss your brother,” you said, cocking your head. Sam rolled his eyes, putting on puppy dog ones when they returned to look at you. “No!”

“Please? I know you guys can figure this thing out,” he said.

“I’m not his type, remember? I’m too much of a ‘tomboy’ in his opinion,” you said, Sam sighing.

An after hunt celebration out had quickly turned sour when Dean let loose that it made perfect sense you were single. No one wanted a hunter. No one really wanted a hunter that dressed like a guy all the time.

“He said that as a joke, Y/N,” he said.

“Well guess who’s still single as ever Sam,” you said.

“We’re all single!” said Sam.

“But you would never date me,” you said.

“You’re not my type! You’re like my sister I didn’t ask for,” said Sam.

“Told you!” you said. “If I was walking around in a skin tight tank and boots with heels or a push up bra, things would be different.”

“Why would you want a pushup bra? Aren’t bras annoying enough? Or so I’ve been told,” he said.

“That’s not the point Sam. It’s that a guy who can’t find one positive thing to say about me while drunk, isn’t going to be able to act like we’re some in love couple that can’t keep their hands off of each other. You need to go find a prettier hunter,” you said, opening up your car door.

“Y/N, please-”

“I can’t do this Sam. I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” said Dean, bursting into your motel room a few hours later. “Cut the whiny crap. You’re the best chick hunter we know. You’re doing this whether you like it or not, Y/L/N. Pack up your bag, get your shit together and you’re gonna follow us to the resort or so be it I’ll drag you out of here myself.”

“Sure you will,” you said, laying on your bed, turning your attention to the TV.

“You asked for it,” he said. You scrunched up your face as he walked over with a scowl. “Last chance.”

“Get out of here before I kick your- PUT ME DOWN!” you shouted, find yourself face first with Dean’s backside, your body thrown over his shoulder.

“Nope,” he said, grabbing hold of your hips with his free hand when you squirmed, already moving for the door.

“Winchester I swear I’ll-”

“It’s a five hour drive. Plenty of time for you to change your mind,” he said, moving you outside, tossing you in the backseat and locking it shut behind you. 

“Huh,” said Sam from the front seat. “He wasn’t kidding when he said you were coming on this hunt no matter what.”

“Like hell I’m pretending to be married to him,” you said, climbing over the bench and out the drivers side, just in time for Dean to walk out the door with your bag.

“Get in the car,” said Dean. “Now.”

“Or what? I don’t want to work this hunt. Find someone else,” you said, walking to your car, Dean tossing your bag in Baby’s trunk by the time you’d ripped under the front dash to hotwire it.

“You’re really acting like more of a brat than usual, Y/N,” said Dean, pulling you out of the seat, putting you in the back of Baby like you were nothing. “Weaker than I remember too.”

“Sam, I told you I don’t-”

“Y/N. We need you. We’ll owe you one. A big one. Just one little hunt, please?” asked Sam.

“Fine. But I want Sam to be working this with me,” you said.

“Best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Sam,” you groaned in the motel room not too far from the resort you were supposed to be checking into in thirty minutes. “You can’t call and say you gave them the wrong name?”

“I told them Dean and Y/N Jones. Besides, Dean wants a free massage,” said Sam.

“Dean fucking Winchester wants a massage?” you said. “Do I look stupid to you?”

“Y/N. Just work with Dean on this one. I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” said Sam.

“You better.”

“You look weird,” you said, Dean wearing a polo and sneakers as he stepped out of Baby.

“You’re telling me. You’re wearing a fucking dress,” he said, glancing around. “Grab your bag and let’s get this done with.”

“Maybe my ever so loving husband can get it for me?” you said, cocking your head with a grin.

“I believe in equality. Get your own shit,” he said, grabbing his bag, leaving yours behind. You grumbled and pulled it out, tugging it behind you as he spun around. “And by the way, what the fuck did I do to piss you off? You’ve wanted nothing to do with me for months. I thought we were friends.”

“Nothing. Just got tired of running with you guys,” you said.

“Funny. Sammy doesn’t get the cold shoulder,” said Dean.

“Sam’s not a dick,” you said.

“Whatever. Try not to look like you hate me in there,” said Dean, holding out his hand with a groan. “You gonna hold it or what?”

“Yes, sweetie,” you said, grabbing hold of it, his hand warmer than expected and enveloping yours easily.

“Just make it to the room and then we can start investigating.”

“I got nothing,” you said hours later, flipping shut your computer. You heard Dean’s close as well, neither one of you coming up with any ideas on what was killing the couples here. “It’s getting late. We should grab a bite and hit the sack.”

“Last time I was at a resort and ate something, I got drugged,” said Dean.

“So we’re supposed to starve?” you said.

“PB&J,” said Dean, going to his bag and  pulling out a sandwich for himself, tossing another over to you.

“Dean,” you said, holding out your sandwich. “I can’t eat this. I’m allergic.”

“I thought that was shrimp you couldn’t have,” he said.

“Shrimp and peanuts,” you said, tossing the sandwich back. “It’s fine. I can not eat for a few days. I can stand to lose a few anyways.”

“From where? You’re skinny,” he said. “You need to eat something, Y/N.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, walking past him for the bathroom. “I’m going to use that soaking tub as long as we got it. I’ll shout if something tries to kill me.”

Your bath was relaxing and you decided you needed to spend more time in hotels with nice rooms from now on to give yourself this luxury. Your stomach growled as you pulled on your pajamas though, a heavy sigh leaving you.

Back in the room Dean was in the lone, King size bed. It was big enough to share but your gaze falling on a fast food bag by your side of it was currently drawing your attention.

“How did you...” you asked.

“I told them when I came back you’ve been dying for a burger since you cut them out to fit in your wedding dress,” he said, tugging the covers up. “I ran to a minimart quick too and hid some snacks in the bag. It’s buried under my clothes in the suitcase when you get hungry. Figured you could handle anything if it burst into the bathroom.

“Thank you,” you said, opening up the bag, unwrapping the burger.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N!” you heard Dean hissing in your ear, something grabbing your arm. You blinked open your eyes, no longer in your room. “Wake up! I gotta get you out of here.”

“What?” you asked, as he pulled you to your feet, your head swimming as he caught you.

“Blood suckers. Not vamps. Some sort of leech people. You’ve lost too much blood. I have to get you away before they come back,” said Dean, wrapping his arms around your torso, half-dragging you out of the room.

“I can help,” you said, resting your head against his arm.

“You’re gonna go hide in Baby while I barbeque these bottom dewlers,” said Dean. “I got this, Y/N.”

“How’s she doing?” asked Dean a few hours later, your body groggy as you laid in Sam’s motel bed.

“Sleeping it off. I made her chug some sugary drink to get her blood sugar back up. She’ll be off a day or so I’d guess. We’ll keep an eye on her but let her sleep and make sure she eats and she’ll be fine,” said Sam.

“You know it’s my fault she got caught,” said Dean, sitting down on the other side of the bed. “We got in a fight because I told her to stay put when we knew it was better to not get separated. I should have let her come.”

“Y/N’s a big girl, Dean. If she really wanted, she-”

“She’s different now. She either hates me or won’t look at me. I don’t even know what I did and she won’t tell me so I can’t try to fix it,” said Dean.

“Fix it?” asked Sam.

“Come on Sam. You know I’m not one for attachments. Y/N was my friend and I fucked something up. I’m not used to losing friends because they didn’t die. I thought being fake married might sort of help show I’m not the dick she thinks I am but that went horribly wrong. All we did was argue,” said Dean.

“You honestly don’t remember that night in Montana? At the dive bar?” said Sam.

“Not a clue,” said Dean.

“You...hit her self-esteem or confidence or that sort of thing. You said it as a joke but you kind of told her she wasn’t pretty...and would forever be single because no one wants that kind of girl,” said Sam.

“Sammy! That’s bull and you know it!” said Dean, running his hands over his face. “Did I really fucking do that? I had to go and get all shy?”

“Shy? What are you talking about?” asked Sam.

“You remember when I was in tenth grade and that girl, Sara, the one with the super long hair came up to me when I was grabbing you from the junior high? She asked me on a date? I said no because I froze up since I liked her and got real shy about it and your twelve year old ass gave me shit about it for three weeks straight?” asked Dean. “History repeated itself.”

“So you’re saying you like Y/N so you insulted her?” asked Sam.

“I didn’t say I was smart! Fuck. Sam, literally every woman we’ve ever had relationships with has ended up dead. How am I gonna apologize without telling her the truth?” asked Dean.

“You could do the easy thing you know and just tell her the truth,” said Sam.

“No,” said Dean. “It’s easier to just let her think I’m a dick. I swear if you bring this up to her Sam-”

“Still as scared as a sixteen year old, Dean. Don’t blame me when she doesn’t answer one of our calls ever again.”

Dean kept his word and didn’t say anything to you, neither of them knowing you’d heard their late night conversation. You thought about bringing it up but Sam had a point. Dean needed to decide for himself if he wanted to own this.

Not that you really forgave him for his reasons behind saying what he did anyways. Not until he could truly come to you on his own.

You didn’t hear a word from them for months after that, not until a text from Sam saying he was in the area and asking if he could stop by for a drink came your way.

“Hi,” said Dean, wearing one of his fed suits when you pulled open your front door, Sam nowhere in sight.

“Is Sam alright?” you asked. Dean nodded, a few flakes of snow outside landing in his hair. “Come in before you freeze.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out actually,” said Dean, glancing quickly at his feet, pursing his lips. “We had a hunt last week that...that made me think of some stuff and how I’m terrified of being alone when it comes down to it. People like us go through enough as it is and I’m sorry for ever making you feel like there was something wrong about you because you’re all right. I’m the one that’s wrong and can’t grow up to save my life. I’m sorry.”

“Dean, come inside,” you said. He stepped into the small older home you used on occasion when you were taking a break from hunting, glancing around at the space, shaking his head. 

“Can we try being friends again?” he asked. “I promise I won’t screw it up this time.”

“Yeah, Dean. We can definitely try that.”

@baconlover001 @emilymorgan1994 @jensenackesl @captainemwinchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @xfanqirlinq @anokhi07 @akshi8278 @fandom--shipper @xxwinchester-22xx

@zeusmyster @atc74 @aingealcethlenn @pillow223 @alilianamendez @dancingalone21 @smoothdogsgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @jaelami @roxyspearing @kickasscas67 @gallifreyansass @untitled39887 @charliebradbury1104 @quiddy-writes @arryn-nyxx @poukothenerd @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @idalinette @evyiione @jayankles @samisimportant @maddieburcham1 @demonic-meatball @hey-um-misha @flufy07 @its-not-a-tulpa @whit85-blog @mrswhozeewhatsis @extreme-supernatural-lover @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @spn-ficfanatic @deanwinchstcrs

[amnachil]

The High School Game Part 22

And here we are, the last part !!! I hope you’ll like it.

Liam DAY 174 Monday

Today, Kilian made his come back to the school, against his mother wishes. Of course, she was worried for her son, which was quite strange knowing she was mean to him in the same time. But Liam wasn’t an expert in family's love. (After all, he had two mothers, the real, and the imitator). Anyway, the whole day, he decided to be at his friend's side. Literally. They were beside in class and they ate together. From time to time, Raphaël came, and checked if everything was alright. This bodyguard made Kilian smile.

"Are you sure this is necessary ?" he asked when the captain went once again.

"Yes it is." replied Liam. "They all need to understand I'm with you, and Raphaël too. By the way, even Nate was motivated to help, but obviously he had course."

The goalkeeper still reminbered his bestfriend word about this story. You should stay with him. You're tall and impressive bro. He said this. Tall and impressive. Liam felt tall and fat, but well. (Okay, not fat, but at least plump).

"I brought you the food you asked." stated Raphaël. "But you said to me it was for Kilian, and now I wonder who is genuinely eating this."

The goalkeeper blushed, but his gay friend burst into laughter.

"Don't worry dude ! I'm satisfied, and you just bring enough to feed an army anyway." he explained. "Liam's helping me finishing everything."

"Yeah, I guess he's." smiled the captain. "Whatever, do you think you'll be there for my departure party Kilian ?"

The boy lowered his eyes. He went from a mood to another pretty fast. Sadly, his family certainly wouldn’t agree with this idea.

"I'll ask his mother." decided Liam. "I sure she'll accept when I'll tell her Nate and I will be there."

Kilian looked at him, thankful, but Raphaël just frowned.

"I thought you were frightened by his mother ?"

The goalkeeper blushed again. Of course, his captain being a mutant, he probably could read his mind. I wonder if he knows about my struggle with my weight. Anyway, Raphaël was right, Liam was scared. But for Kilian, he was ready to take risk. He thought about this : he certainly felt pity for his gay friend, and wanted to help. Yeah, the erection and my... feelings were nothing more than pity. (Okay, you can't explain an erection by pity, but boys got sometimes uncontrolled erections after all.)

"Anyway, Liam, I let you convince his mother." whispered Raphaël. "And if you fail, I'll do it myself, okay ?"

The lad nodded. His captain was very cool...

This evening, Liam took Kilian at home, while snacking some donuts bought at Liliano's bakery. His friend invited him to come in, and they went to his bedroom. His whole family was absent, and they were alone, tranquil. Some things changed since the ran away : Ms. De Beauchêne took her son's money box, and put bar on the window, but the young teen affirmed it was not a problem. In fact, he was apparently happy to know his parents were worried for him. Despite their homophobic attitude, at least they still loved him.

"Please, have a sit. Do you want some pancakes ? My mom provides me a lot of those, now."

Liam gave him a powerless look. He already snacked a lot during the day, but it was pancakes. They are calling me. Eat me, eat me ! (Pancakes had, in his mind, their own personality, with a life goal : be eaten by Liam Strucker). He grabbed one and bit in.

"You know... I'm not supposed to eat that much." he mumbled.

Kilian smiled and sat next to him. He took a pancake too (one less for Liam, who felt a bit sad). He was cute, with his thick and curly blond hair, his blue eyes and his freckles. At the end, the goalkeeper found him too skinny, but quite handsome.

"Seems like you're lovin' the pancakes." whispered his friend, noticing he ate already four.

"Yeah, sorry, they are my weakness." explained Liam. "But I need to stop because I'm getting fat."

"Fat ? Are you kidding dude ? You're fuckin' handsome."

Tenderly, the thin boy put a hand on the plump belly of his friend.

"This is not fat. This is the sign of a heatlhy and well-fed young man. It's soft, cute, and really enjoyable."

He started to stroke the tummy, which made Liam blush. What is he doing ? Despite being surprised, the goalkeeper let him continue. It felt good. Really good.

"I wanted to thanks you." whispered Kilian, focused on Liam's belly. "For everything you did. You're nice."

"You already thanked me one hundred of times, you know ?"

But... I kinda like the way you're thanking me. Slowly, his friend put his second hand on Liam's shoulder, and brought his head closer. The goalkeeper felt something strange overhelm his body. A warmth, but not in a sexual way. Just, he felt... comfortable. He took another pancake while Kilian came even closer.

"I already tell you how much you're physically handsome, but did I say you are a lovable person too ?"

Liam blushed again. He faced his friend, their heads separatared by an inch.

"Do you think... I'm doing a mistake ?" asked Kilian.

"No. You're not. Or we both are. I don't know. Whatever."

The goalkeeper kissed the skinny lad with passion and desire. He dreamt about this since at least one week. And as expected, it felt pleasurable. For a long minute, they kissed eachother, and then, Kilian step backwards.

"I... I love you Liam. Seriously, I think you're perfect."

"I love you too." replied the goalkeeper while kissing him again.

His shyness prevented him to go too far, but he wanted more physic contact. Of course, they were in the De. Beauchêne's house, and they had to be discreet. But for now, they were alone, tranquil. And Liam intented to take advantage of this situation to cuddle his new boyfriend.

Shirley DAY 176 Wednesday

In three days, on Saturday night, the girl would play the game for the last time. Thanks to Gregory, she knew Raphaël was suspecting something, and of course, planning a defensive strategy. But Shirley was better, and already considered all the possibilities. In fact, he could not avoid her. Because she was the plan. Literally.

"Babe, what do you think about this one ?" asked Sam while going out of the bathroom.

They were at his home, alone, trying some outfit for the departure's party. To be honest, Shirley had underestimated  Barbara willpower. She had rent the community center and had managed to invite at least one hundred people. The whole 11th grade, of course, but also some friends of Raphaël from other states, or even other countries. Also, she had managed to find enough food and drinks for everyone, plus several decorations she would install during the afternoon. Sam and Shirley so, had to try suit and dress, because the class delegate demanded evening wear. Gregory was right... She’s in love...

"Babe, are you looking to my suit, or thinking about somethin' else ?"

Shirley raised her head and smiled.

"Sorry. It's perfect."

It was. He bought with his mother a new outfit, considering his last one was obviously too tight. His belly pushed a bit against his white shirt, but nothing too uncomfortable. Seing his like this, she realised how handsome he was. Since he accepted his new body, without six pack, Sam became at the same time cuter, and nicer.

"Which dress will you wear ?" he asked, far away her thoughts.

"I don't know honey. I think a basic one will be enough."

He sat next to her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Babe, what are you planning exactly ?"

"What ? What are you telling ?"

Sam looked at her, serious. He wasn’t joking. I hope Gregory didn’t tell anything... Otherwise, the plan will fail.

"I know you still blame Raphaël for everything, and however, you are fine with this party, planning how to dress and what we're gonna bring as a gift. So I wonder if you ain't planning something ?"

She laughed. After all, he knows me better than I thought. The old Sam, overconfident and selfish, wouldn’t have asked her about this.

"Don't worry honey. I'm not planning anything. I know Dan'll be here, as my mother. And I decided to make a clean break with past. Also, yeah, I still blame Raphaël, but I'll be exemplary during the party."

"Okay, it's nice to hear that." Sam replied, reassured. "Because I would have be very disappointed if you tried something..."

She smiled. Well... Don't worry my boy, you'll never suspect what I'm planning... She was confident : once Raphaël annihilated, Sam would love her unconditionally... I just have to succeed.

When she left her boyfriend this night, the young girl headed towards Mcdo, where Gregory was certainly waiting for her. She entered in the fastfood, and glimpsed the lazy boy, eating burgers like if they were candies. She sat in front of him and smiled.

"Having fun, Greg ?"

He swallowed slowly.

"I'm training." he laughed. "I heard Barbara spoke about a fuckin' feast in honor of Raphaël, and I want to be the best eater. And by the way, I have to feed this."

He patted affectionately his potbelly. Jeezus, he's so different... Like Sam, the dark-haired lad changed a lot when he gained weight. First oblivious he now enjoyed it even more than her boyfriend. He was constantly eating, and continued his lazy way of life, unworried by the fat paunch he maintained. But she wasn’t here to admire Gregory's new love for laziness.

"Do you think he found the stuff you hid at his home ?"

"No. He did not."

"Good. By the way, I've one last thing to ask you during the party. Will you do it ?"

Gregory leaned towards her. He smelled the grease and the protein shake.

"I really want to see his face when you'll win the game." he whispered. "So yes, I'll do anything you want to. Just tell me."

"Can you isolate him for a while ? During the party of course ?"

He nodded.

"I'll do it. But what is exactly your plan ?"

She had never told him. He was not fully trustworthy.

"Don't worry Gerg. Just isolate him, and I swear to you : his whole life will be ruined."

Gregory FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

This afternoon, the young lad was so excited he had itchy feet. Shirley promised to Raphaël the hell, and he was part of this plan. I can't wait to see his face... Sadly, he had to wait. Right now, he was with Thomas, at the Muller's home, but the captain wasn’t here. His little brother was quite excited too, but not for the same reason, obviously. They were playing videogames, captivated, when the bell rang.

"Don't move dude, I'll be back." stated Thomas while standing up.

However, he came with Sam in the living room a few minutes later. What is he doing here ? Shirley boyfriend looked at Gregory, and sat onto the sofa, his belly hanging over his tigh pant. Of course, Gregory couldn’t really tease him, his own paunch being largely bigger.

"Thanks Thomas." started Sam. "Greg, I needed to talk to you. I need your help."

The dark-haired lad raised an eyebrow. It was kinda surprising from Sam. They were friends (Mcdo friends), but they never talked that much. Thomas gave them some cookies (as the feeder he always have been), and they both started to ate.

"Okay, I think Shirley is planning something for tonight." explained Sam. "Something bad. She's acting too normal, those last few days. Like if she wanted to be at the party. But I know this is false. She made a plan. An evil plan, in order to make Raphaël pay."

Gregory just stared at his buddy with amazement. Wow... I thought he was just a fat dumbass... However, he apparently didn’t suspected that the supporting striker was part of the plan.

"Pay for what ?" asked curiously Thomas.

"She blames him for absolutely everything." replied Sam. "She thinks he's guilty for Kilian's stuff, and Kim's stuff, and Jessy's stuff. And even Greg's stuff. She's convinced everything is a part of the game, and she wants to win. Of course, she didn’t tell me this, but I know it's true."

Gregory opened his eyes wide. Seemingly Sam had understood more things than he let appear. But even more astounding, Thomas laughed, completely unworried for his brother.

"The game !" he guffawed. "She'll not win the game by defeating Raphaël. In fact, she'll lose it. That's funny..."

Sam looked at him, curious, but then focused on Gregory.

"Whatever it be, I need your help dude. You were her worst ennemy, and you know how she's thinking. You probably are aware of her plans, ain't you ? That's why both of you met at Mcdo every night, isn't it ?"

Holy shit. Did he is ignorant of at least one thing ? Sam never indicated he was aware of their meetings. And Thomas looks to trust more in his brother than Shirley... Maybe it was time to betray the young gril. For my own safety. I have a cool life now... Am I ready to lose it only to see Raphaël defeated ? With the possibility to lose everything instead of him ? The answer was evident.

"I know she want to trap him." he eventually confessed. "But she doesn't really need my help, and she will do it anyway. She's convinced she can ruin his life."

"Well... I hope for you she'll gave up." whispered softly Thomas. "Because she'll probably also ruin her own life in the process."

Gregory smiled. Thomas's confidence in his brother was kinda amazing. He took a cookie, and watched Sam think. Dude, I hope you'll find something... Otherwise, it'll be a fuckin' chaos. But anyway, as a worthy lazy boy, the dark-haired boy did not care. The only thing he wanted right now was this cookie.

Liam FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

Liam, Kilian (Can he call him his skinny poppet ? He always wanted to call someone his poppet) and Nate were, as volunteer, helping Barbara for the installation of the community center. They had a great time, thanks to the good mood they shared. Of course, the goalkeeper told everything to his bestfriend, who was happy to know he found love again, and accepted his body the way it was. As time spent, Barbara was more and more stressed, and they glimpsed her tears when she failed to fasten a tinsel.

"We'll do this." offered Nate. "Don't worry."

He brought Kilian with him, and they both took the garland. Meanwhile, Liam decided to speak with his class delegate. She's so panicked... She did an Herculean work. Barbara dressed casually, but he had glimpsed the beautiful dress she bought and hid in a corner of the room. This party was maybe for Raphaël's departure, but she could be proud of herself. She did everything alone, because Jessy just abandonned her when her new boyfriend Finn had been expelled. (Liam's ex blamed the class delegate, and the goalkeeper apologised like one hundred time to Barbara, despite being innocent).

"Are you okay ?" he asked. "Everything's ready, you don't have to worry you know ?"

"That's not... not the organization. I just... think Gregory played with my feelings, and I'm sad about this."

"What do you mean ?"

She looked at Kilian, and smiled.

"How did you realised you were gay ?"

Liam frowned. Nice question. He didn’t understand why she asked this, but he decided to be honest.

"I don't even know if I'm gay, bisexual or whatever." he explained. "I just... feel something for Kilian I never felt before. It's... hard to explain, but I feel... fine with him. Fine with my body, with my toughts, with my delirium..."

The last word made her smile.

"I think you work well together." she whispered. "Thanks you for helping me. I owe you something."

"Absolutely not." he affirmed. "We're glad to help for this party. And I'm sure Raphaël'll be thanksful."

"Oh, I know he will..." she smiled, but her eyes hid a glint of sadness. "It's just... did you ever expected so much something, and then, realised it was impossible ? The more you're excited about this, the more it's painful then."

He nodded slowly. I think I understand... But she was a strong girl. She would get through her feelings. And find a perfect boy for her. He wanted to say something, but her phone rang suddenly.

"It must be the first guest !" she shouted.

While she pick up the phone, he headed towards his friends.

Nate and Kilian were finishing to fasten the tinsel, and when they glimpsed him, they both laughed. What did Nate said ? (Yeah, it was necessarily Nate's fault, this little boy was a jolly fellow). Liam came closer, and smiled, curious.

"We wondered how much you'll eat tonight, black hole." explained his bestfriend. "Are you hungry ?"

One week before, Liam would have blush, and just laughed, uncomfortable with his bulge, but now, it was different. Different because like Nate, someone loved this little plumpness. Consequently, he blushed (yeah, classic did not change) but lift his shirt up and smiled.

"Ask my food baby dudes. I think he is kinda hungry yeah."

They all laughed. Nate pinched his stoutness, admirative.

"This is a good baby ! Heatlhy !"

Kilian, this sneaky boy, patted Nate belly and busrt in laugh.

"It seems like he will have a bestfriend. You both have wonderful baby food !"

"Yeah, but stay with me, and soon, you'll have one too." replied Liam.

Of course, not everything was perfect. Kilian's family was still unware of their relation. They were still homophobic, and quit violent towards the young lad, but less than before. In the contrary, Chloe and Liam's mother (the real one) were both aware of the situation, and they took this well, gald to know he was happy.

"Anyway, what are we doing now ?" asked Nate.

Liam smiled.

"We have something to do for Raphaël. C'mon, follow me."

They headed towards the backyard, and the goalkeeper opened the door to Dan, Shirley's brother. The college student came in and greeted them cheerfully.

"Everything went fine ? Barbara is okay ?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's welcoming the firsts guest." replied Liam. "And you, are you ready ?"

Nate and Kilian look out of their's eyes, surprised by the situation. I forgot to explain them what is happening... Woops. (He did not feel sorry at all).

"I think I am." supposed Dan. "But she's as stubborn as a mule. I hope she'll listen to me."

"We all are with you." approved Liam. "She's my friend, but Raphaël is too, I understand your position. Good luck, mate !"

Then, the four boys went in, joining the party. And Liam took Kilian's hand, happier than ever.

Shirley FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

This party was the most noisy and muffled she ever experienced. The night was late, and she was pondering her plan over and over again. Her mother was here, at the buffet, distrayed by Liam, Kilian and Nate. Without knowing it, they were playing Shirley's game. However, Sam was sticking her like a robot. Usually, he had gone to the buffet one or two times, but not during this party. And Gregory didn’t isolated Raphaël yet. I'll do it myself. She was just waiting a good opportunity. Barbara did an amazing work : the decoration was awesome, the food really tasty and everyone was having fun. Except Shirley. When she glimpsed the devil heading towards the toilet, she decided to move into action. Still followed by Sam, she came closer, but suddenly, Thomas and Dan cut her up. What the fuck ? Her brother was wearing a cute suit, enlightening his new muscles, but also his round belly. And Raphaël's brother was like a mini-devil, shorter but as depraved.

"I'm in a rush." she said. "Let me go."

"Wait a minute." suggested Thomas. "Your brother needs to talk to you."

She gave him a dirty look, but did not move. His tone was strangely persuasive. Let's see what they want. Dan looked at her seriously and smiled.

"Sis', listen, I'm sorry. I was enraged, and I overreacted during our last argument. I think I need to explain things better."

Shirley frowned. What was that ?

"I'm gay. Yeah, I'm gay, and you're cool with this. Several friends of yours are gay too. But when I asked you to apologise to Raphaël, it was because you had hurted him, violently, and he had suffer. Not only physically but also..."

"I'm done with this crap." she interrupted.

It was still the same speech. The devil's speech. I don't care Dan. You need to open your eyes, everyone needs to. She avoided him, and headed towards Raphaël. She could hear her brother yelling, but did not care. Her mother would probably try her luck soon, and the devil would certainly took advantage of this. I need to act now. Sorry bro'. She entered in the toilet, more determined than ever.

Strangely, when she went in, she found Raphaël watching the mirror, meditative. He was shirtless, unveiling his incredible six pack, his strong pec and arms, like a top model. Is he contemplating himself ?! Without a look for her, he smiled. Shirley grasped her dress. I'll simulate a rape. I'll do it.

"Dan and I are going out together." he suddenly stated. "We're in a relationship."

She stopped her move and stared at him. What did you just said ? Slowly, the devil turned towards her.

"Your brother is my boyfriend." he repeated. "And if you try something now, especially something this stupid, you'll lose him forever. In fact, you'll lose Sam too, and Liam, and Kilian, and your mother. Are you sure you want to do this ?"

"I don't understand." she mumbled. "How is it possible ?"

"The condo Shirley. His friend's condo. It's mine." explained Raphaël. "When I discovered he was gay, I told him I was too, and we made a date. Look, to be fully honest, I have been loving your brother since 2 years, but I ignored he was gay. Now, we're boyfriends."

"But... why he didn’t tell me this ?"

She was lost. Lost because it make sense. It explained why Dan was overprotecting Raphaël. Why they always were friends.

"He tried, in his own way..." confessed Raphaël. "He told you about weak erogenous area, like mine, which means being sensitive from the crotch. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Plus, I asked him to let you partially in the dark."

She frowned.

"Why ?"

"For the game. You needed to understand the game."

Shirley nodded slowly. The devil was obsessed with this game. But she did not get it. She was still unaware of the rules, of the aim, of everything. What this fuckin' game was, after all ?

"You're what we call in the game a deviant. You are against the conformism, and you struggle against the rules constantly, trying to escape this setting. And for people like you, there is three kind of ennemy in the game." explained Raphaël. "You fighted each one, one after another. And you succeeded at least two times."

She looked at him. Please... Be honest. Her rancor was disapearing. Even if he was a monster, he was right. If she tried something, Dan would never forgive her. Neither Sam, nor Liam. But deep inside, she was not convinced of his evilness anymore. He sounded just like a sociopath.

"Firstly, there are deviants, like you, but who are ignoring themselves." started Raphaël. "This kind of people didn’t really conform to the rules, they try to escape from the game. They're following the rules, but feel uncomfortable. And because they want unconsciously to escape, they blame the others deviants, in order to feel less guilty for their own difference. Sam was this kind of person, as Gregory. Liam was quite similar, but he never charged anybody other than himself. However, now, they all have discovered their true self, and they have become true deviants. Secondly, there are the products of the game. They're people who always follow the rules, and conform to the game. They hunt deviants, and try to annihilate their kind. For example, Kim is a product, as Jessy, or Finn. Even Barbara, but she's smarter, and she know where are her limits. For a while, I thougth Gregory was this kind too, but you proved me he was a deviant."

Raphaël made a break, and she looked at him, surprised. He was telling everything so quietly. She started to understand what the game really was. But she had still several questioning.

"Finally, the third ennemy is the deviant himself." he continued. "Because he refuses to conform, he's always fighting, and he tends to become paranoid, afraid of everything and everyone. For example, you're putting all your difficulties on my back. Deviants wants to feel free, and in order to succeed, they often over blame the others kinds for their problems. This is typically your case. And I'm not sure you'll defeat this ennemy yet."

She nodded. Yeah, it was true. She was turning him as the evil in order to feel less guilty. But what is his role in this game ? And what are truly the rules ?

"As you certainly understood, the game is a rough designation of our society. That's why you can't exactly win the game. Deviants are simply people who are struggling against the standards and the norms of our society. Because you love fat guys, you're not conforming to the natural and social selection, which recommend to love muscled and well built boys. Sam and Gregory, because they have chosen a lazy way of life, are not conforming to the social preference for work and sport. And Liam, Dan or Kilian ain't conforming to the social and biological gender. You're playing the game, since the beginning of your life, and until the end, but you can't win it. However, the better you understand how it works, the more you could feel at ease with this."

Shirley did not know what to say. It was... true. At least, logical, and not stupid. Maybe quite simplified. Raphaël smiled. And for the first time, it was not a cold smile, but a amiable grin.

"As for me, I just helped you to understand this. To be honest, I first tried to help Sam, and then I decided to help you with this stuff. As I told you, deviants tend to choose an ennemy, and I decided to be yours. In this way, I hoped you would understand how our society works, and achieve to struggle against it."

"You're a deviant too." she stated. "Because you're gay. And you love a chubby man, my brother."

"Well, we are coming to my last point." he laughed. "Eventually, I only have one favor to ask. Of course, I'll decline your mother's wish of testimony. But I wondered if you would accept somethin' now..."

"Tell me."

She was completely calm now. She had realised Raphaël was not the devil. As he said, he did not planned Finn's actions, or Kim's ones. He was innoncent, and she had charged him wrongly. He was still a manipulator, obsessed by his training and the game, but he was not her ennemy. Finally, maybe he is a deviant because he's too smart to conform...

"Now I'm dating your brother, I hoped you and I would succeed to be... friends." he whispered.

Shirley smiled. She did not deserve his friendship after everything she had tried. But here he was. I think you're completly crazy...

"I'm sorry." she mumbled. "Now, I regret having kicked you in the balls. And I regret my plan for tonight."

"That's nothing." he replied. "Well, the kick was quite painful, but otherwise, I'm fine."

He put his shirt back and headed towards the door, and she let him do. After all, it was his party, and they probably were waiting for him. He opened the door, and just before going out, looked at her.

"By the way, I found the condoms, the sextoy and the porn magazines in my house. I can tell you Dan and I enjoyed most of them."

The end

Well, that’s it. I hope you liked it. I wanted Raphaël to be her last ennemy since the vey begining. And in a way, I think he’s a real sociopath x) but also right. Today, in Western society, there is a real struggle between conformism to norm and individuals preferences. That’s what I wanted to point out at the end of the story.

I guess we can temporarily say goodbye to all my OCs. But I already started another project with some of them (Liam mainly because I love him so much). Maybe I’ll post it later, maybe not, we’ll see.

In the meantime, I’ll post some fanfic with weight gain / stuffing when I have time and inspiration.

Thank you all for reading !

[bridgetbites]

On Body Shaming

I have quite a unique position in that I have been body shamed at my smallest, and body shamed at my highest (which is healthy) weight. And they both really suck. I hate that either of them have a place in our society today.

When I was at my smallest, I was inundated with comments of “YUCK” and “eat a burger”. And when I had gained a bit of weight I was called fat. Both of these scenarios are such bullshit. It makes me so angry. I fought back at my smallest, and I am fighting back now through this blog. I have zero respect for anyone who feels the need to write cruel comments on instagram, reducing the person to nothing more than their body. Because those comments are read. And no matter how strong you are, they get through. On some level they imprint on your sub-conscious, and it hurts.

Would you ever look a loved one in the eye and call them disgusting/vomit/yuck? If the answer is yes, you need some serious guidance. How would you feel if a stranger walked up to you and said “you look like a twelve year old boy?” Or “you’re fat?”. We are all people with the same set of emotions. If we treat each other like we love each other, the world will change. Empathy to me, is the single most important emotion we need in life. Without it we would fall into anarchy. And social media is starting to erode it.

Being called disgusting when I was struggling with an eating disorder achieved absolutely nothing. All it did was reinforce my previously held beliefs that I am in fact, disgusting. All my adult life I had been battling voices that told me that “I am not enough” and that I am wasting my life. And all modeling did was provide a neat outlet for me to channel this pain. I do wish that this wasn’t the case – but that is not the point of this blog post. The point is that by writing mean comments on strangers instagram, you are doing way more harm than good. If you truly are worried about the person, tell them privately and with love. But do not subject their bodies to damaging scrutiny. More often than not, when the person is looking that underweight, they do not see it. They feel like everyone is lying to them. They also may feel a little thrill that people are “worried” about them and their weight. Whatever the scenario is, by heaping hate onto strangers, you achieve exactly nothing.

Being called fat at the nutritionists office that day, or on set was equally painful, but in a very different way. I knew that I wasn’t. I just wasn’t underweight. I felt my skin go prickly and I didn’t know what to say or do. So I just laughed and agreed with them. Or tried hard to show that they hadn’t hurt me. Suffice it to say, my reaction now would be extremely different. But I was younger, and hadn’t realized that my existence is far greater than my body. So I just vowed to do better. And you know how that went (bridgetmalcolm.com.au/blog/2018/4/2/on-celebrity-nutritionists). I was so humiliated and felt like such a failure. However, I believe that the stigma surrounding the word fat needs to be removed. Fat is so important to our bodies. Having lost too much, and lost a lot of healthy functions, I have a huge amount of respect for fat. If my being the weight I am today makes me “fat” then I say bring it on. Because I am fit, strong and full of vitality. Being “fat” rules.

For the record – some people are naturally smaller than others. I sit naturally at a size 4. That is smaller than average, but larger than an average model. I know girls who sit naturally at a 0. And they eat (not that that is important here). I also know girls who can outrun me (not that that is important here), who are a 14. You just never know. So keep your opinions to yourself.

Body shaming, be it fat or skinny shaming is a terrible illness of our society. It is an illness based on the pack mentality, and our societies complete fixation on the exterior. It is also based on a deep running vein of fear, and that makes me sad. We all just want to be loved, and to belong. But this doesn’t happen by alienating others and their chosen way of life. It happens by showing all beings the love we hope to receive. Behind every face are countless stories, stories that we all share to some degree. And if you take away those stories, we are left with nothing. Without my stories, I am exactly the same as you without yours. This sameness should breed empathy and unity.  

We cannot approach this world with the aim to hurt and divide. Our journey is short, but the opportunity to make real change is unlimited. Remember how great it feels to be shown love and light by those around you. Really live in that feeling. Wouldn’t you love to be that person for someone else? You don’t need to get anything in return. But you will get the knowledge that you touched someone’s life.

Today, live in empathy, and make the decision to be someone’s light. You could really change a life, unknowingly.

 And most of all… I dictate my path.

 Love,

Bridget

Photograph | Dove Shore

I love receiving your comments! - and if you have any specific questions don’t forget to ‘Ask Me Anything’ via the link here.

THANKS SO MUCH

[islareeveswriting]

At least three dates

Masterlist Here

Word Count 10.6k 

‘I like it.’ Harry returned, pulling food from the brown bags and handing things to her. Zara noticed the note of extra jalapenos on the burger that Harry handed to her and she smiled, pleased Harry had gone with it and not thought she’d regret it like others had tended to.

‘Ketchup?’ She asked hopefully. 

‘And mayo.’ Harry told her proudly handing the sauce sachets to Zara.

‘Wow Grim really didn’t forget anything huh?’ 

‘Heyyy.’ Zara snapped her head to Harry at his response. His face was a picture of offence and she had to try not to laugh. ‘I remembered from the restaurant actually.’

‘Nicholas, are you serious?’ The sound of Zara’s voice drifted through the house and followed the sound of the front door closing, and her footsteps up the stairs to the first floor. Nick looked to her, from the company he was sharing around the dining table, as she entered the room.

As per usual, she was dressed in the seriously faded, black, skinny jeans that she wore pretty much daily. Apart from when she admitted defeat, put them in the wash and slung them over the bathroom radiator in hope they’d dry for the next day. They never did, and she’d be forced to opt for a skirt, or blue jeans. Heaven forbid. Really she needed a new pair, but she refused to take them out of her work uniform allowance when there were far more exciting things to choose instead. And as far as Zara was concerned they were still wearable, despite what Nick said. 

‘What?’ Nick asked calmly, his mouth full of the chicken and quinoa salad he’d made, really overdoing the healthy eating thing he’d been promising to have a stab at for weeks. 

‘It was the worst date I’ve ever been on, and you’ve given him my number.’ Zara explained. She had her hands resting on her hips, the cropped grey jumper she was wearing spilling out of her palms and making the gesture have slightly less effect than she clearly desired. Nick chuckled a little as the stony face and ignorance to Nick’s guests, that Zara definitely knew well enough to at least greet, suddenly made sense. 

‘Oh come on Z, it was hardly the worst date you’ve been on.’ Nick could think of at least two that had been worse since he’d known her. There was the guy who had taken her to a fancy (and expensive restaurant) and then told he’d forgotten his wallet - convenient. And then there was the guy who told her he’d asked her on a date because she looked a bit like his sister - weird. Nick knew, the date she was referring to definitely wasn’t the worst date she’d ever been on. Apart from anything else the words Harry Styles, and bad date didn’t go together very often. In fact, Nick felt fairly sure this would be the first time. 

‘Well I wouldn’t exactly call it good either.’ Zara sneered to which Nick could only giggle again, sticking his tongue through his teeth as his eyes crinkled at the side. ‘Eugh you’re so annoying.’ Zara saw that face far too often, she could hear it, whenever she put his radio show on in the morning, when he made a sarcy or slightly cheeky comment, and she didn’t like the joy he was getting from her displeasure. 

‘Just give him another chance.’ Nick virtually begged as Zara turned away from him with a groan, like the stroppy teenager she hadn’t quite grown out of being. Nick often had to remind himself she wasn’t much more than that. Only just twenty, and working a run of the mill retail job in the Topshop on Oxford Street. That was enough to make anyone stroppy. ‘He wasn’t himself, he’s so busy at the moment, he was tired and nervous.’ Zara rolled her eyes. 

‘He should have cancelled then.’

‘He wouldn’t do that.’ Nick told her with a more serious tone that that told Zara that he was being, well, serious. ‘Just one more chance, please, he wants to make it up to you.’ Zara sighed heavily, dropping her shoulders to emphasise it. Nick chuckled at her dramatics, they rivalled some actors he’d interviewed. 

‘Fine.’ Zara sighed admitting defeat, but she quickly lifted her finger and pointed it straight at Nick. ‘But only for you, cause I can tell you’re worried he’ll hate you if I don’t go.’ Nick grinned brightly. It was only half a lie on Zara’s part. She couldn’t deny there was part of her that was still intrigued by Harry, there was something about him that she couldn’t shrug off and she knew Nick had noticed the way her cheeks blushed a pale pink when Harry paid her attention, even if it was just a quiet ‘hello’. 

‘You won’t regret it.’ Nick beamed with his trademark Cheshire cat grin. 

‘Whatever’ Zara breathed, pulling out the chair she had one hand leaned on, and sitting down. ‘Is there any food left?’ Zara asked changing the subject. It didn’t matter if she knew there was something inside her that wanted a second date with Harry because she was attracted to him and wanted to know more, but she didn’t want to let Nick get a whiff of it. And she certainly didn’t want Harry to know. She didn’t want him to think that she was just going to roll over and forget their first date. Even so butterflies were starting up in her stomach the same way they had done ahead of the first date, even though she hadn’t known it was Harry she’d be going on a date with. 

Nick had set it up as a blind date. He’d been promising Zara she’d love the guy she’d be meeting since the suggestion came up. Unbeknown to her Nick had been promising Harry the same thing. 

Zara and Harry had met a few times before, a brief introduction in the kitchen of Nick’s house before she went off to work, followed by fleeting, polite conversations whenever Harry happened to be in the house at the same time as Zara. Zara couldn’t remember much of them looking back but she could understand how people were so taken with him. His charm and charisma would be hard to miss, not to mention the pale, yet bright, green eyes that always caught Zara out. There was something about him and it was hard for Zara to put her finger on, but it was the thing that made her wish she could get to know him better. 

She knew Nick had seen the way she had to stop herself from acting like a teenage girl, with a crush, around Harry. She didn’t know Nick had seen the same in Harry. Or the way his eyes so often fell on her when she was in the room and followed her until she left. Neither of them knew Nick had been planning a blind date between the pair for a while. 

That was why Zara was so surprised when it was Harry that sat down opposite her at the Mexican restaurant, half an hour late. That on it’s own she could have forgiven. He was a busy man, Zara knew that. Nick had told her just how busy Harry was after having him on the radio show twice in as many months, not that Zara had caught either of them. She could see how busy he was for herself, she only had to open Twitter and something about him would have been retweeted by someone - a secret show, a TV appearance, an interview. 

However, she couldn’t forgive the phone on the table, or Harry’s inability to leave it be. It buzzed and flashed constantly and when it wasn’t doing so, Harry was pressing the button to light up the screen and check it. Maybe she could have gotten over it if he’d done it occasionally when their conversation lulled into silence, but not when he was doing it halfway through conversations as well as in the quiet. Zara found herself starting up and maintaining most lines of talk, and as much as she wanted the quiet to linger until it made Harry feel awkward, she always seemed to cave first. 

The whole thing made her feel like she was intruding on something, like she shouldn’t be there, like there was a hundred and one other things Harry would rather be doing and about a million people he’d rather be with. She felt like an inconvenience and, she hated herself for it, but that feeling nearly made her cry as she walked home. 

Harry had offered to drive her at the end of their night, about two hours earlier than Zara had anticipated it being, but by that point she couldn’t think of anything much worse that sitting in the car, with Harry, back to her house. When she got in, Nick was, unsurprisingly, still up watching TV on the sofa. As was the norm, he had a blanket pulled over his legs, both dogs curled up either side of him, Pig a little too close to the bowl of popcorn on Nick’s lap to make Zara want to take some. Normally she’d be tucked up the other side of Pig, her legs laid over Nick’s where the popcorn was. They really needed to get another couch. 

Obviously Nick asked how the date had gone, a smug smile on his face assuming it had gone as well in real life as it had in his head. Zara didn’t hold back. She didn’t forget who it was she was talking about it just didn’t matter to her that he was Harry Styles, or one of Nick’s good friends. The date had still been disappointing and had left her feeling a little hurt. Although she didn’t admit to that part. 

Normally Nick might sympathise, sit and listen, nodding and making noises of approval as she ranted, but on this occasion he just commented something about how out of character Harry’s behaviour sounded. Zara just groaned in response and took herself off to bed, not appreciating Nick’s lazy excuses for Harry. She should have known when Harry sat down opposite her that it would be a bad idea, but she’d been drawn in by his eyes and the apologetic, kind smile he’d thrown at her as he sat down and excused his lateness. 

There were enough butterflies darting around Zara’s stomach to make her feel nauseous as she stood in front of the tall mirror in her bedroom, and checked her quickly put together outfit. Harry had told her to go casual when she’d asked what the dress code was, but she didn’t quite believe him. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Harry in anything that she’d call casual. Last time he’d been at the house he’d had a vividly patterned shirt on (that Zara had admired and wanted to ask where it had come from, but knew it would be somewhere she wouldn’t be able to afford in a million years), a pair of black jeans, dark black jeans, not faded like her’s, and a pair of loafers that she knew were from the Gucci collection. She knew because she’d been eyeing them up. That was what you called wishful thinking.

Zara had hedged her bets on the ‘go casual’ instruction from Harry, and decided to finally get a new pair of the classic black Jamie jeans out of her uniform allowance. And now she was stood in front of the mirror, in said jeans and also a black silk shirt that was patterned with small, bright pink, flamingos. She had the shirt undone to her breast bone, exposing the milky white skin underneath that didn’t match her dark brown hair, that she’d chopped to shoulder length (somewhat regrettably) but did match her bright, pale blue eyes. The silver chain she always wore, hung down in the v of the shirt and tickled her skin, the way it always did, as she moved. Despite the fact she was trying to verge away from wearing all black, all the time, she opted to pull her black chelsea boots over her feet, deciding the suede baby pink jacket that was on the coat hook downstairs would work as a pop of colour, along with the flamingos. 

As she left her bedroom she could smell the stir fry Nick was cooking downstairs, as well as the hiss of the pan as he added ingredients, and the clatter of utensils. Zara trotted down the stairs to the kitchen where she leaned against the breakfast bar opposite Nick and his frying pan. Nick looked over his shoulder to Zara, a friendly smile on his face. 

‘You look pretty.’ Nick complimented, but Zara just looked up at him through her eyelashes with flared nostrils. ‘You do, I like the shirt.’ Zara knew the words had an underlying ‘I’ve got my eyes on that’ tone, but didn’t warn him away like she often did.

‘Got new jeans too.’ She mumbled lifting her leg so he could see the stark, black material of her new jeans over the breakfast bar. 

‘Well I hope Mr Styles knows what a privilege that is.’ Nick jested turning back to his dinner as Zara rolled her eyes, the sound of the doorbell following. ‘Have fun.’ Nick called after her, laughing as Zara looked to him with an unimpressed glare. Zara grabbed her jacket from the hooks at the top of the stairs as she passed them, throwing it over her shoulders as she scampered down the stairs. Harry was visible through the obscured glass panels in the door, Zara knew it was him even though his form was distorted by the glass.

‘You look lovely.’ Harry announced, pretty much the second Zara opened the door to him. It gave her the feeling that he’d been planning on saying it no matter what she looked like when he saw her.

‘You look … casual.’ Zara commented in response, looking him up and down and taking in his outfit. She wished she’d not bothered with new jeans, because Harry’s were far more faded than her old ones, and ripped at the knees, ripped more than they were originally designed to be. A white t-shirt poked out from the gold, satin, bomber jacket he was wearing and he had a black breton cap on his head. The brown boots on his feet were scuffed and clearly old. Zara felt positively over dressed and that was nearly as bad as being under dressed. 

‘I did say casual.’ Harry reminded her, an undertone of hurt in his voice. 

‘Yes to be fair you did.’ Zara turned to the sound of footsteps behind her, she knew Nick wouldn’t be able to resist. He had a mischievous grin on his face as he joined Zara at the door, taking it from her hand and pulling it open a bit more as he leaned against it, crossing one leg over the other.

‘Come to pick her up this time ey Harold?’ Nick jested with a wink, and Harry simply shook his head. Zara let one corner of her mouth turn up in a half smile, realising she wasn’t the only one who did that to Nick when he toyed with them. ‘Not wearing tea towels today I see.’ 

‘Tea towels?’ Zara interrupted, a look of disgust on her face, and she flicked her head to look up at Nick. 

‘Do you not listen to my radio show?’ 

‘No, not really.’ Zara lied, pouting her lips a little as she did so.

‘Well that’s great.’ Zara heard a bubble of a chuckle come from Harry and she felt her mouth turning to a smile once again, this time less consciously. ‘Go on get out of here before you offend me again.’ 

‘Yeah, right, see you later then.’ Zara sighed, completely missing the hurt that ran onto Harry’s face for a second, leaving just as quickly as it appeared, at the disappointed tone of her voice. 

Silence fell over them as they walked away from the house. Harry had shoved his hands into his pockets pretty quickly after Nick had closed the door behind Zara, and as the quiet lingered on Zara couldn’t help but feel the evening was going in the same direction as the last. She tried to push it to the back of her mind. She tried to remember, and focus on, Nick’s advice of not judging Harry by the first date instead. However, it didn’t stop her from remaining deadly quiet to try and force Harry into saying something to break the sound blackout. 

‘So I thought I’d take you to one of my favourite spots.’ Harry announced suddenly, and it took Zara a little by surprise. Harry smiled, a lopsided but big smile that made his cheek dimple in a way she’d never noticed before, as she looked up to him with wide, bright blue eyes. ‘I’ve got GBK in the car so-’ 

‘So that’s why Grim was asking about burgers earlier.’ Zara realised, nodding her head slowly, once, as the pieces puzzled together in her mind. 

‘I asked him to be subtle about that.’ Harry admitted, his face a little creased and his bottom lip pouted and petulant, but in a way that was endearing. 

‘He was it just, well, it’s kinda obvious when earlier he was asking what my GBK order was and now you’re saying you’ve got GBK in the car for our date.’ Zara felt her tummy fizz as she said the word and she thought she saw something in Harry’s face that told her his did the same. Though there was also a little disappointment in his features as he realised his romantic plan had been foiled, and wasn’t quite so romantic anymore, or at least Harry thought not. Zara didn’t mind though, she thought it was cute. ‘It’s fine don’t worry about it, at least you didn’t guess and get me something I’d have hated.’ 

‘Well, I thought we could go and eat it at this spot I like, I think, well I hope you’ll like it.’ Harry rambled looking at his feet as they walked, getting closer to the Range Rover Zara had only just noticed. ‘Quieter than a restaurant.’ She could see he was nervous, it was filtering off of him, it was easy for her to spot because it was the personification of how she was feeling inside. There was something about it that charmed her. Harry Styles nervous for a date with little old Zara. That was something to tell the grandkids about. 

‘It sounds lovely.’ Zara said with a smile of genuine excitement and happiness, one she hoped would reassure him a little. Harry opened the car door for her and she whispered a coy ‘thanks’ as she slid into the passenger seat. 

As Harry rounded the front of the car for the driver’s side, Zara took a discreet, deep breath. Suddenly there was a kaleidoscope of butterflies inside her, and she was full to the brim with nervous energy. She was sure it couldn’t be a coincidence that Harry was taking her on her ideal, idea of a date. She was fairly certain Nick might have planted the seed in Harry’s head. But that didn’t matter. It felt exciting with just the right amount of scary added in. It felt the way a first date should feel. 

The drive from Zara’s house wasn’t long, but it seemed Harry was determined not to let silence fall the way he had in the restaurant two weeks ago. Every time a topic came to a natural end, he’d start another one. Zara didn’t mind, it had her feeling the opposite of what she had done at the restaurant. Instead of feeling like she shouldn’t be there with Harry, or like Harry wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else, she felt like she was the only person on his mind, the centre of his attention, like every question he asked her was all he cared about knowing in that moment. Harry’s eyes were focused solely on the road ahead of them, but she felt like his mind might just be filled with her. 

It was. But, he was trying to play it cool. His stomach was a wash with the tumbling waves of a nervous buzz that was charging through him. But, he was trying not to let that show as he concentrated on the road ahead, even though, really, the only thing he was concentrating on was making Zara smile and feel comfortable in his company, trying to make sure she forgot about the way he’d acted two weeks ago at dinner with her. 

He made sure he was driving as carefully as he could. Normally he might run amber lights or rev the car up a little more than necessary, trying to get it up to speed quicker. Not tonight though. He was aware driving like that made him look just as much of a dick as he had done when he couldn’t leave his phone alone, whilst dining on Mexican food with a beautiful girl. Harry was more than aware what a bad impression he’d given on their blind date, and he was determined to reverse that now that he had the chance. 

The week of their blind date had been Harry’s busiest week in a long time. It had been a never ending cycle of interviews - phone calls followed by emails followed by meetings followed by phone calls and so on. By the Sunday evening Harry was exhausted and the impending flight to LA, for his weeklong stint on the Late Late Show with James, was playing on his mind more than it should have been. He knew he should have rearranged the date, but it slipped his mind and when he remembered on Sunday afternoon, with only three hours until the date, it was too late. He didn’t want to let Nick down, and he didn’t want to let the mystery girl down. 

When Harry saw Zara sat at the table, wearing a body hugging, long sleeved, black dress, he regretted not rearranging. He knew he wouldn’t be able to give the date his all, he wasn’t in the headspace for it, but he really wanted to be able to. He was already late when he arrived and that was never the impression he wanted to give to anyone, but particularly Zara. If he had known Zara was the one he was meeting for dinner he’d have rearranged for a time when he didn’t feel like he was going to fall asleep any second or like one more notification on his phone would have him pulling his hair out.

Harry had wanted a shot with Zara from their first introduction. It was no secret. Harry had never been good at hiding his feelings and if anyone was going to catch him out. it would be Nick. Harry knew Nick had noticed the way Harry’s eyes always fell on Zara when she was in the room, followed her around and watched after her even when she’d left. He couldn’t help himself, he just wanted to look at her, admire her. 

She’d looked beautiful sat opposite him that night. It was only when he drove himself home from dinner that he realised he’d never told her that.

‘What happened?’ Nick asked, answering Harry’s call with the question rather than a ‘hello.’ ‘Z said it was awful.’ Harry could have cried. He felt awful. He hadn’t even wanted to be around himself that night, so he couldn’t imagine how it had felt for Zara.

‘It was awful,’ but that wasn’t quite true, ‘I was awful, I need her number Grimmy.’ Harry begged and he heard Nick scoff down the line. ‘Please Grim, I need to make it up to her.’ Harry continued, still a tone of desperation in his voice.

‘She’s pretty pissed of mate, I’m not sure she’d appreciate it.’ Nick informed Harry, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Regret, laced with guilt, washed through him. He’d blown his chance because he couldn’t switch off from his work brain for a few hours to just be with someone. It was out of character to say the least. Harry had always worked hard on separating his work and private life, and at a time it could have really counted for something, he’d failed to achieve it.

‘Please Nick, I really need to make it up to her, I need her to know that I’m not a twat, she thinks I’m a twat.’

‘She used a stronger word than that.’ Nick lied but Harry didn’t need to know that. Zara hadn’t had to say it, it was written all over her face when she walked through the door, how hurt she was by the way Harry had acted at dinner. Nick knew Harry would really have to pull it out of the bag to make it up to Zara, and, Nick knew, for Harry to do that he had to at least think Zara really did think he was a massive bell. She probably did think he was a massive bell.

‘Fine, but it better be good Harry.’ Nick warned fully aware if it was anyone else, even another of his friends, there would be no hope in hell he’d be passing Zara’s number onto them following the date Zara had described to Nick. As far as he was concerned, someone who didn’t appreciate Zara completely didn’t deserve her time. But it was Harry and Nick knew he could do better, Nick knew he did appreciate Zara really, or at least could, given the chance.

Nick’s words rung in Harry’s mind as he parked the car, ‘make it good Harry’ he repeated over and over to himself in his mind as he concentrated on the parallel park. He had no idea how often Zara went on dates or when her last date was, aside from their date, and he didn’t really care to find out. All he cared about was making sure her date with him that night was the best date she’d had so far. He planned on it going well enough that by the end of the night he’d feel comfortable asking her on a third date, where he’d go on to better himself.

There was something about Zara, and it was even more obvious now she was sat in the passenger seat of his car. Harry wanted to go all out for her. He wanted there to be no doubt in her mind that she was all he cared about, that she was the only thing on his mind. There was something fizzing around inside him that was a little bit more than he was used to, and was definitely a result of more than just physical attraction. 

Zara followed Harry from the car, even though by that point she had an idea where they’d end up. As they walked side by side, they both allowed a comfortable silence to fall. Neither felt the need to punctuate it with conversation or fleeting comments anymore. They walked closely, the cuff of Zara’s jacket brushing against Harry’s every so often. If his hands had been free she’d have considered reaching out to hold one of them, but they were full, and apart from that it was too soon. He still had some proving to do. 

Purples and oranges bled into one another in the sky as the sun began to fall behind the horizon. It cast a glow over the city below as they reached the top of the hill that made the concrete jungle look like the city of gold. Zara noticed the way it danced on Harry’s flawlessly smooth skin like glitter, making his eyes sparkle with more than what was already dancing in them. There wasn’t a single other person around, which Zara thought odd. Whenever she’d been up there, which admittedly was normally the middle of the day, there was no where to sit apart from the grass. That night they took the empty bench. 

‘Good spot.’ Zara commented as she sat down, crossing her legs up underneath her, Harry taking the space beside her. She looked to him as he did so and saw the smile, oozing with pride (but not cockily so), that spread over his face from her words. She liked that. Making him feel good about himself, making him feel like he’d done good. It looked better than the disappointed look he’d given her at the end of their last date when she’d rejected his ride home. It suited him more and made her feel warmer. 

‘I like it.’ Harry returned, pulling food from the brown bags and handing things to her. Zara noticed the note of extra jalapenos on the burger that Harry handed to her and she smiled, pleased Harry had gone with it and not thought she’d regret it like others had tended to. 

‘Ketchup?’ She asked hopefully. 

‘And mayo.’ Harry told her proudly handing the sauce sachets to Zara. 

‘Wow Grim really didn’t forget anything huh?’ 

‘Heyyy.’ Zara snapped her head to Harry at his response. His face was a picture of offence and she had to try not to laugh. ‘I remembered from the restaurant actually.’ Zara knew she looked taken aback because she felt it. She didn’t think he’d taken any notice of anything she’d said that night, but in particular when she’d asked for ketchup and mayo to go with her spicy fries before mixing them together on the side and dipping the chips in. ‘I was taking notice of you, I know I didn’t show it but I was.’ Zara nodded and looked down at the food clutched in her hands, feeling a little awkward with the change of conversation. ‘You looked beautiful.’ Zara felt her cheeks redden with Harry’s compliment. 

At the end of the night she’d wished she hadn’t, but she had made an effort for their dinner. She’d pulled her hair back from her face and even cracked open the highlighter she’d bought three months previous, but never touched. It had stung when Harry hadn’t told her she looked nice, even though she’d told herself she hadn’t done it for him. Nick had managed to tell her she looked pretty, why hadn’t her date been able to? 

‘Thanks.’ She mumbled bashfully.

‘I should have told you then, I’m sorry.’ Zara shook her head and caught Harry’s gaze, staring down at her, as she lifted her eyes to him. She had a feeling that his eyes had never left her even when she was looking down at her hands. They swam with regret, wide and puppy like as he watched her. ‘For the whole night, I’m sorry, I really don’t want you to think I’m that person, I’d quite like it if you liked me.’

‘I do like you.’ Zara admitted, neither pair of eyes dropping. Harry saw that she meant it in the smile that started to creep in and the way her bright blue orbs softened. He knew he was doing the same. He didn’t care if she saw, he wanted her to see, he wanted her to know the effect she was having on him. ‘Let’s just forget about the restaurant date thing,’ She stumbled over her words, feeling a little hot under the collar due to Harry’s unrelenting gaze. ‘Let’s call this the first date.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Harry beamed and Zara giggled before finally dropping his stare and turning to her food, unwrapping it carefully. ‘You look really good by the way.’ Zara giggled again, feeling just like the teenage school girl Harry had made her feel like the first time he’d spoken to her in her kitchen. She welcomed the feeling back with open arms, it felt good to have him make her feel like she was made of jelly.

‘Thanks.’ 

‘So you like spicy food?’ Zara hummed happily as she bit into her burger, nodding as she chewed on the food. The spice from the Sriracha sauce, that was a frequent accompaniment to her meals, and the extra jalapenos lighting up her tastebuds. Harry chuckled with the sparkle in her eyes, clearly thrilled with her burger choice.

‘Wanna try?’ Zara asked after swallowing. Harry looked at her a little timidly and Zara giggled. ‘It’s not that hot I promise.’ She lied mischievously, but Harry could tell. Even so he took a bite of the burger Zara was pushing towards him. The heat instantly set fire to his mouth and he winced at it, Zara giggling as his face contorted. 

‘That was mean.’ Harry announced, food still in his mouth, but not caring as his tongue continued to be scalded. He breathed heavily through his mouth to try and cool his tongue, waving his hand over his tongue that he had stuck out in the air, all to the soundtrack of Zara’s giggles. ‘I’ll get you back for that.’

‘It’s not that hot.’ Zara insisted taking another mouthful and chewing on it like it was candy floss, completely unaffected by the spice. 

‘You must be a mutant or something.’ Zara laughed loudly at Harry’s comment, his grin beaming as she did so. His teeth were on show, his cheek dimpled and his eyes creased. It suited him and he glowed with it. Zara could have stared at him all night looking like that, it was warming her and it was beautiful. It felt even better knowing he was smiling like that thanks to her. 

The evening passed to night and soon they were sat in pitch black, the only lights those of the city below. It gave their skin a ghostly glow but somehow Zara still managed to take Harry’s breath away when she looked out over the city and spoke about fashion as passionately as he spoke about music. It radiated off her, her love for clothes and fabrics and patterns. It had Harry smiling at her like a loon as she spoke and when she turned to look at him, as she finished, he didn’t mind that he’d caught her. He just smiled bigger, and she returned it, though a little bashfully. 

Conversation passed easily between them and the giddy feeling Zara had been feeling in Harry’s car had subdued so she just felt high on being in his company, but relaxed and comfortable. She had noticed how he moved closer every so often even, though it was clear he didn’t really want her to call him out on it, so she didn’t, just enjoyed the feeling of his body getting closer to hers. She felt warmer as he got closer and when their thighs and arms finally touched it felt like she’d been licked by flames, in an intense, exciting, thrilling way. Like walking on coals.

‘So do you kiss on the first date?’ Zara looked up to Harry with his question. He had a smirk on his face, one side of his mouth lifted, his lips just slightly poutier than normal. Zara chuckled breathily at him and shook her head. Maybe she would have done but despite how enjoyable their evening had been, the memory of their dinner was at the back of her mind and she didn’t want to get involved with that Harry. She wanted to know the Harry she’d shared burgers with was the real Harry.

‘More like the third.’ She told him and Harry sighed a little disappointed. It felt good to her though, having him react like that to being declined a kiss from her. 

‘Guess I’ll be rolling two dates into one next time then.’ Zara giggled and nodded looking back away from him as her cheeks started to warm, even though he wouldn’t have been able to tell in the dark.

‘Are you asking me on a second date?’ 

‘Of course I am, are you mad?’ Zara laughed again and looked back at him as he lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulder. The smirk had gone and was instead replaced by the big bright smile that made the butterflies come back far too quickly. She wanted to kiss him, she really did. His lips looked so soft and pink and wanting to be kissed, but she stuck to her guns and instead moved in a bit closer to rest her head on his shoulder. She felt him lean his head down onto hers as she looked out over their city. 

++

‘Is that a lady’s shirt?’ Zara asked Nick as she wandered from the staircase to the kitchen. Nick turned to her question, as did Harry who was stood next to him. He had that dopey smile on his face as soon as his eyes landed on Zara, she didn’t miss it and didn’t hesitate to return a similarly friendly smile. He’d turned up to take her on their second date, twenty five minutes earlier than planned. It was clear he was still going all out to prove he wasn’t the tardy, uninterested person he’d appeared at the Mexican restaurant, despite their agreement to forget about it. 

‘No, why do you want to borrow it?’ Nick asked looking down at the green and navy leopard print shirt he’d opted for. It wasn’t rare that Zara would ask to borrow one of Nick’s shirts, or a t-shirt, or jumper, she liked his fashion sense and he liked that, so he let her take what she wanted. 

The pair had met through a mutual friend. Introduced at a party after Nick had announced he was looking for a housemate. He hated being on his own, particularly living on his own, he loved to be around people and he’d gladly rent out his spare room at a vastly reduced rate if it meant he got someone to live with. Zara had just moved to London and was currently living on the sofa of a university friends living room, but it was temporary and she was desperate to find somewhere. It seemed an obvious match, particularly considering they hit it off straight away. Nick was hard not to get on with, but so was Zara and the pairing just worked. Living together meant they shared a lot, Zara wouldn’t outwardly describe Nick has her best friend, and the same applied to him, but they probably weren’t far off. At least, Zara hadn’t told anyone else about her disastrous date with Harry.

‘Yeah, I’ll nab that later.’ Zara giggled as she wandered around the breakfast bar to stand opposite the two men. Harry’s eyes, as always, didn’t leave her. 

‘No black jeans, someone’s trying to impress.’ Nick jested, sticking his tongue between his teeth and holding back a giggle. Zara shook her head at him and tried not to become self conscious of her bare legs. Harry had noticed the blue denim skirt she’d opted for but he liked it, she looked fantastic in it.

‘She looks great.’ Harry announced eyes still on Zara. She looked to him and smiled thankfully. 

‘Never said she didn’t look good.’ Nick pointed out. Nick threw compliments out to Zara on a near daily basis, Zara didn’t know why, but she couldn’t deny it was a confidence boost she’d learned to love. ‘So you kissed her yet?’ Harry shook his head and Zara could feel her cheeks blushing. Nick was always forward, and she should have expected no less, but even so she wished he hadn’t asked.

‘Nah, she has a three date rule.’ Nick scoffed, eyes creased at Harry’s words and Zara shook her head again.

‘Three date rule!?’ Nick laughed. ‘She’s pulling your leg there.’

‘Hey, after the first date I think three’s reasonable.’ Zara explained but Nick just continued to giggle. She rolled her eyes to Harry whose smile had fallen, eyes also and she felt a little guilty for her words. It definitely wasn’t a case of not wanting to kiss Harry, simply that she felt she shouldn’t. ‘Well shall we get going?’ Zara asked quickly. Harry nodded and pushed himself away from the countertop he was leaning against. They both said goodbye to Nick and Zara led the way from the house, pulling the front door closed behind them. ‘So where we going?’

‘Surprise.’ Harry winked with a cheeky smile that forced a giggle from Zara. It seemed that it didn’t matter how much time she spent with Harry, he’d always have butterflies erupting inside her, but she liked it and it was getting addictive. Just being in his presence had her feeling the right kind of on edge that made her want to be around him all the time. 

Harry’s car wasn’t even in sight as they walked down the road away from the house, Zara began to wonder if he’d even driven. However, when she felt his hand take hers, encasing her fingers in his, she thought maybe there was a reason for parking so far away that the car was out of sight. Zara looked down at their hands as Harry made his comfortable. His large palm and long fingers were warm around hers, the metal of his rings a contrast to that. When she looked up to find Harry’s face his eyes were already on her. 

‘Is this ok?’ He asked a little timidly. Zara simply nodded at him before switching her gaze to the road ahead pretending to focus on where they were going rather than the thrill she was feeling from having Harry holding onto her hand. 

Harry smiled to himself as he walked with Zara’s hand in his. It was small and cold but it felt like it fit just right in his. He’d been talking himself up to it from the moment he saw Zara in the kitchen and she’d pretty much taken his breath away, yet again. The fear that she’d pull her hand from his or tell him it was too soon, or some other rejection that would set them two steps back, held him back. But something, he couldn't put his finger on what, made him go for it as they began the walk towards his car. 

‘Oh.’ Zara couldn't help but be a little surprised as Harry stopped walking, their joined hands meaning he pulled her back a little. Harry chuckled as he unlocked the classic, red, Jaguar E Type. Zara’s eyes were wide and Harry chuckled again. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t erm, sorry don’t worry.’ 

Why she was so surprised they weren’t getting into a Range Rover she didn’t know. Of course he had more than one car. Of course he had a classic E Type. No matter how easily he made her forget, he was still Harry Styles. Harry opened the passenger side door for her and she thanked him as she ducked to slide into the car. Even Zara, who didn’t have a mind for cars, could appreciate the beauty of this one.

‘Sorry I hadn’t got it out in a while and since it’s a beautiful day, I thought we could put the roof down.’ Harry explained as he went about pulling back the soft top roof, letting the scorching sun rays into the car to dance to Zara’s bare legs and arms. Zara smiled appreciating the sun and relaxing in the seat as she basked in it. She dropped her head to the side when Harry sat in the car beside her, ‘Alright sun baby.’ Harry chuckled taking her in, the content smile on her face, unbeknown to him, not just from the warmth the sun was offering.

‘Well I am a fire sign.’ She explained cooly. 

‘Should have guessed.’ Harry mumbled with a laugh, as he pulled away. Zara ignored the comment. She had no idea what that all meant anyway, although she couldn’t deny she was intrigued by it. She wondered if Harry’s comment was genuine, if he really know something she didn’t, and she was acting just the way her star sign would predict. Did it make her as predictable as she tried not to be now he knew that? 

The drive to wherever they were going was filled with the sound of the radio that neither of them moved to turn down or off. It didn’t feel necessary to load their time together with chat when they were both comfortable enough to enjoy the music and the sound of the wind, that whipped at Zara’s hair, as they drove. Harry was more focused on the road this time around, and Zara got the feeling he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of how to get where they were going. It had her feeling a little nervous at what was ahead. She snuck glances at Harry every so often and he looked glorious. She could feel herself getting weak for him and, even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t stop herself, or hate herself for that.

Harry parked in the first spot he saw in the small carpark of the village they drove into. It was a typical quaint English village, and Zara couldn’t even guess what Harry had in store for their date. Harry led the way from the car, his hand surrounding Zara’s again, his long ringed fingers a little like a safety blanket as nerves rose in her tummy at the unknown. Zara always loved being out of the city on a sunny day, the city was great and she loved calling London home, but you couldn’t beat the charm of a small English village, or the seaside when the weather was at its best.The traditional buildings and cobbled streets would always make her feel at home.

Zara looked up at Harry questioningly, as he pushed the door of a cutesy, cupcake shop open. He smiled down at her reassuringly, but said nothing to give her a clue as to what was going on. A young woman, the kind that Zara imagined seeing walking down the street with two toddlers in tow, appeared from behind a counter with a beaming smile. 

‘Hi, can I help?’ Zara could tell she recognised Harry from the blush on her cheeks and her fumbling words, but she didn’t say anything. Zara wondered what was going through the woman’s head as she took her and Harry in, Harry’s hand still holding onto hers and not loosening. 

‘Yeah I’ve got a cupcake masterclass booked.’ Zara tried not to laugh, instead biting her lips together as Harry spoke politely to the woman. 

‘Ah, yes, come on through.’ The woman beamed turning and leading Harry and Zara to the back of the shop where single island benches were set up. It was a little reminiscent of the Bake Off and Zara couldn’t help but get excited at it. ‘There’s aprons on the benches, help yourself and I’ll be back in a second.’ Zara smiled a thanks, shy in the company of a stranger. Once the woman had left the room, Zara looked up to Harry and giggled. 

‘Good idea, thought it would be fun?’ He explained with a hopeful smile. 

‘I’m sure it will be.’ Zara said taking one of the aprons from the side, the green one, leaving Harry with the pink and white polka dot one.  ‘I’m excited.’ She admitted tying her apron tight behind her back. Harry couldn’t help but notice what it did to her figure, her waist cinched where the apron tied emphasising her wide hips, that had him feeling something he knew he shouldn’t spend too long thinking about.

‘Right then guys, I’m Louise, I’m the head baker here at Swallow Bakery.’ Louise rambled, on a spiel that Zara could tell was pre-rehearsed and spoken regularly. She went through the options Harry and Zara had to bake that morning as well as some of the equipment they were using, though Zara was proud to admit that she was already familiar with most of what Louise was showing her, apart from the piping bag that Zara could never be bothered to use if she was making cakes at home. Too much faff for Zara’s liking, and a ball ache to clean. ‘So what cupcakes would you like to go for?’ Harry looked at Zara, indicating she should go first. 

‘Can I do the Red Velvet?’ Louise nodded with a sweet smile and looked to Harry.

‘I think I’ll go Carrot.’ 

‘Perfect, ok, I’ll just grab a few bits but you make yourselves comfortable, there’s tea in the pot there and coffee, just help yourselves.’ Harry smiled a thanks as Louise left the room again. 

‘Ok?’ Harry asked, Zara nodded with a happy smile that reassured Harry. He’d worried it would be too out there, a little unconventional and Zara would be put off by it, but she seemed to be into the idea. ‘Did you want tea?’ 

‘Yes please.’ Harry wandered over to the pot of tea on the counter that Louise had pointed out. ‘White, no sugar.’ Zara told Harry before he could ask and he chuckled to himself. He liked that she was forward, but also clearly shy. It made him think he made her feel relaxed and Harry got a kick out of that.  He liked making her laugh and making her smile, he liked listening to her talk. It all made it seem like she was comfortable around him, and that he loved. He passed the tea cup to Zara and she took a delicate sip, humming as it hit her taste buds before she swallowed.

Louise soon appeared with a tea caddy filled with ingredients. Harry helped as she began to unload them onto the bench, and Zara fizzed with how much of a gentleman he was. He was one of the most famous people on the planet, but Zara always felt like she was sharing company with a young lad who worked at the local pub or something. He was so grounded and content with himself and she never felt intimidated by him. She didn’t know how he did it, but she enjoyed that he did.

The pair followed the instructions Louise had given to them, listening to her tips as they went. Harry took the opportunity, when Louise’s back was turned, and Zara was preoccupied reading her instructions, to stick his finger in her batter, Zara quickly swatting his hand away with a giggle when she caught him. Harry’s eyes went wide and childlike as he sucked the light, creamy batter from the end of his finger, Zara giggling again as she blushed at the gesture shaking her head and turning back to her instructions. Zara felt like she was giggling unrelentlessly as the pair acted like a couple of lovestruck teenagers. They fooled around and kept trying to find ways to get closer to each other at the bench until they may as well have been stood in front of one another. Harry’s hands found Zara as often as possible and Zara reached out for Harry’s wrist when he continued to try and dab cake batter on the end of her nose.

Zara hadn’t had so much fun on a date in as long as she could remember, and Harry didn’t think he ever had. He always tried to be himself when getting to know someone so he knew they were with him for the right reasons, but he didn’t think he’d ever been so like himself so soon with a girl before. He was being the joker he really was, and the gentleman, and the thinker, and all of it had Zara swooning inwardly. 

‘So both your cakes have cream cheese frosting on top so you can make it together if you want?’ Louise announced once their cupcakes were out of the oven and cooling on the side. 

‘What do you reckon Z? Bit of teamwork.’ Zara would normally have bristled, or flinched, when someone she hardly knew clipped her name like that, but she kept forgetting she hardly knew Harry. She felt so at ease with him that it felt like she’d known him, really known him, a lot longer than a few weeks. 

‘As long as when it turns out to the be the best cream cheese frosting you’ve ever tasted you don’t take all the credit.’ She jested and Harry chuckled with Louise, as Zara pulled a clean mixing bowl closer. 

It was as Zara cubed butter into the bowl that Harry moved to stand behind her. He made out like he was trying to see past her to look at the instructions for how much icing sugar they needed, but Zara knew he was stood behind her for a lot longer than it would have taken him to do that. His hand rested lightly on her waist, as she stood, eyes flicking over the laminated instructions. Electricity buzzed through Zara from his touch, and she had to wiggle her toes to keep from giggling with the feeling. She couldn’t stop the smile though, and she was sure Harry saw it because he squeezed her waist just a little before moving back to the icing sugar and the scales.

She wanted him to do it again, stand behind her and hold her waist, she wanted his arms around her. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, but she settled with bumping him with her hip as he poured icing sugar into the bowl. It knocked his balance and icing sugar fell to the counter releasing a puff of dust around Harry. Zara laughed loudly as Harry batted it away coughing and scalding her slightly. He reached out and grabbed her waist, tickling her through her t-shirt, a slight scream leaving her mouth as she jumped away from him, Louise completely forgotten by both of them. 

‘That’ll teach you to bump me.’ Harry growled jokingly, reaching around her back and pulling her close again by the hip. She smiled hoping Harry had the same feeling inside him that she had. He did and he was high on it. It was addictive, flirting with her, acting like a foolish schoolboy.

They finished their cupcakes, icing them perfectly with the piping bag that Louise gave them a quick demonstration on how to use. Harry finished his with pre-made candy carrots and Zara finished hers with a sprinkling of tiny, candy love hearts. Zara had never made anything so pretty, and she was quite impressed with herself. Normally baking was a quick fix for her, normally half from memory, and a bit of mix and match of whatever she had in the cupboard that she could make work. The cakes she’d made with Harry looked like they could actually go on sale, to be fair, so did Harry’s. 

‘Time for the taste test then.’ Louise said with a smile taking one of each cake and cutting them into quarters. She took a piece of Harry’s first chewing on it slowly and nodding. ‘Very nice Harry, good work.’ She complimented and Zara saw the proud smile on his face. Louise took a piece of Zara’s, and Zara bit down on her lip as she put it in her mouth. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous, it’s wasn’t like there was actually something riding on the outcome. ‘Wow Zara, that’s really good, well done, beautiful sponge.’ Louise announced with wide eyes. Zara beamed happy with her work. 

‘So who’s is best?’ Harry asked hopefully. 

‘Well, I think it has to be Zara I’m afraid.’ Zara clapped her hands together smugly, looking up to Harry with a grin on her face. She tilted her head to the side as Harry looked down at her disappointed with pouty lips. 

‘What’s up loser?’ She taunted, jabbing him in the side gently.

‘I used to be a baker you know.’ Harry informed her, eyes wide with his serious tone.

‘Obviously not a very good one.’ Zara joked, sticking her tongue through her teeth as she laughed, Harry’s brow dipping and his mouth falling open. She’d said three dates, but she could have kissed him then, mocking disappointment and offence. His cranberry pink lips were pouted and begging to be kissed. Instead she reached for a piece of her cupcake and lifted it to his mouth, the gesture putting the smile on his face that had her falling.

++

‘So you’re into astrology?’ Zara asked, taking another segment of the scotch egg, thinking back to his comment in the car earlier that day. They were sat, on a picnic blanket, in Harry’s back garden enjoying the sun, with a typical picnic spread, including the cupcakes they’d baked earlier that day.

Zara had been able to tell he was nervous about asking her back to his after they’d finished at the cupcake shop. He went quiet and was chewing on his mouth. His fingers fidgeted around hers as they wandered back to the car, and he seemed distracted. Finally he asked her though, stumbling over his words a little, and apologising if it was too soon, but, eventually asking her back to his for a picnic in the garden for what would be their third date. Zara had chuckled and told him not to be so ridiculous, it sounded perfect. As all his dates had done.

‘I’ve done some reading around it.’ Harry told her, he was leaned back on his elbows, stretched out on the blanket, looking at Zara through his sunglasses. She could see herself in the reflection of them, her own sunglasses on her face and her hair half tied up after the breeze continued to blow it in her face. She had her legs folded underneath her, trying as hard as she could to be ladylike and save her modesty, though the short denim skirt she was wearing didn’t make it easy. 

‘So what do you think my sign is then?’ Zara challenged with a mischievous smile. Harry moved his pouted lips to one side and stroked his chin, Zara giggling as he did so.

‘I’m gonna guess Leo.’ Harry finally settled on. 

‘Shut up did you just guess right first time?’ Zara’s voice sounded genuinely shocked as Harry chortled at her reaction. ‘Did Grimmy tell you when my birthday was?’ 

‘No, I swear he didn’t.’ Harry chuckled, but Zara gave him a look that told Harry she didn’t believe him. Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks sucked in a little. ‘I promise, you can ask him if you want.’ 

‘Well, how did you know?’

‘You’ve just got Leo traits.’ Harry told her. ‘You’re very ambitious and hardworking, a little self conscious, which a lot people don’t think of as Leo trait but it is sometimes, you’re not mushy when you’re talking about things and people you love, yeah just several things.’ Zara could feel herself smiling as Harry spoke. It was interesting to her and he was clearly very knowledgable about it, but also quite passionate about it. She got the same zingy feeling inside as she did when he talked about music.

‘So what’s your sign?’ Zara asked intrigued and  moving to lay down on her front, next to Harry. She leaned up on her elbows and looked up through her sunglasses to him. His head moved to look down at her, resting on his shoulder a little. 

‘Aquarius.’

‘Tell me some things about Aquarians then.’ Zara instructed.

‘Well we often seem far away and dreamy,’ Zara chuckled thinking back to their first date, ‘I’m just saying, it’s my birthday’s fault I was so detached on our first date.’ Zara shook her head and looked down at the blanket. 

‘Seriously, come on, I’m interested.’ She told him, pleading a little.

‘Ok, ok.’ Harry chuckled. ‘We tend to like to be independant, we’re normally quite artistic and have a silly sense of humour, we’re hopeless romantics but don’t often show it.’ 

‘I’d say you’ve done a pretty good job these past few weeks.’ Zara admitted cooly but her cheeks were flushing a little with it. It was worth it though for the smile that spread onto Harry’s face. 

‘That’s good to know.’ He admitted, feeling relieved that she’d enjoyed their time together as much as he had. Harry looked down at her for a few moments, just getting lost in taking her in. ‘Come up here.’ He suggested, reaching out for her arm and pulling just a little to coax her further up the blanket to him. She did, rolling over so she was sat up and moving closer to him, leaning back on her elbows so they were on the same level. Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and encouraged her to lie back with him, his hand resting on the top of her arm and rubbing small circles on her skin, through her top. 

‘I’m really glad I gave you another chance.’ Zara whispered, staring straight up at the perfectly clear, bright blue sky.

‘So am I.’ Harry told her. Zara twisted her neck to look to him, Harry’s eyes, as always seemed to be the case, already on her. He knew he wanted to kiss her. She was beautiful. But, before that she was funny, and before that kind and willing to try, and before that she was sweet and shy. She was beautiful and funny and sweet and smart, and it all balanced out so perfectly. He wanted to kiss her because he didn’t think he’d ever get bored in her company. Because, he saw things, new things, that were interesting or ridiculous, or both, or neither, but either way he always wanted to know what she’d have to say about it. 

‘So we’ve been on three dates now.’ Harry pointed out and blood rushed straight to Zara’s cheeks. It was endearing to Harry, how easily he could make her blush, how shy she got around him at times, yet be so confident at others. She was looking down towards their feet, smiling bashfully. Harry reached for her chin, taking it gently in his fingers and moving her face so she was looking up at him again. She licked her lips, rubbing them together to moisten them, both fully aware of what was coming. She swallowed and Harry felt reassured that she was just as nervous as he was. ‘I’m going to kiss you now if that’s ok?’

‘Ok.’ Zara barely whispered as Harry moved closer. His breath fanned across her face as he got closer, sweet from the strawberries and lemonade he’d tucked into. His lips were on hers before she could even process anything. They were just as soft as she’d imagined and felt just as good on hers as she’d hoped they would. She felt his hand move down from her face to her waist where he pulled her body in closer to his so they were pressed tightly against one another. Zara let her hands move up his chest, finding rest, one on his broad shoulders the other behind his neck, holding him in place because she never wanted it to end. She felt Harry’s hand move further down, resting on the back of her bare thigh and pulling her leg over his so she was wrapped around him. She didn’t mind. It promised something more than a kiss, but at the same time she got the feeling he just wanted to be as close as possible. 

Finally she pulled back, breathless and craving air. Harry was delirious with having kissed her, his hand still at home on her leg, tracing delicate patterns, like lace, onto her skin. Zara blushed again when their eyes met.

‘Worth it?’ She asked, and Harry’s face melted into a look of confusion. His brow creased a little, his eyes blinking quickly a couple of times. ‘The kiss, was it worth all the effort?’ She clarified and Harry smiled brighter.

‘Love, I’d have gone a million dates if it meant I got to kiss you at the end of it.’  

Hope you like this one guys, let me know. 

Big ol thanks to @harrysmeadow and @cuddlemusclestyles for being queens as usual with this one and proof reading all 10k of it. It’s a beast I don’t know how it happened but I appreciate their proofing a lot cause would pretty much be unreadable without them. Also thanks to @trulymadlysydney for helping me out with some of the astrology stuff on this one. Much love.