#not his fault. not louis' fault. they both WANT just not enough space to question and realise how much deeper it all goes

[little-smartass]

THE VAMPIRE LESTAT COVER ALBUM - the legendary Vampire Lestat is back and bigger and badder than ever, this time bringing a whole album of song covers ranging from classic bangers to newer fresh takes on chart hits! get your copy now, complete with a transcript of the artist's commentary on each song!

(songs I think Lestat would cover and release as an album in an attempt to re-kickstart his career and/or make some sort of dramatic statement to Louis. tracklist and "artist commentary" under the cut)

Survival - Muse

“And I’ll reveal my strength, to the whole human race, yes I am prepared, to stay alive, and I won’t forgive, and vengeance is mine, and I won’t give in, because I choose to thrive! Yeah I’m gonna win!”

Oh, I wish this song had been around back on that opening night at the Cow Palace - how apt that would have been! What a fucking anthem! They would have been rioting all night. I mean, they already were, but, like, because of the music. Not because vampires were being immolated in the middle of the crowd. Different kind of riot.

The Bitch Is Back - Elton John

“I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch, oh the bitch is back, stone cold sober as a matter of fact, I can bitch, I can bitch, ‘cause I’m better than you, it’s the way that I move, the things that I do!”

One day I want to have this play as I walk into Night Island. I’ll time it perfectly so that I throw off my coat - my denim jacket, or- oh, no, a fur! Maximum drama! - just as the chorus starts. Armand will know that I’m coming of course, but I think that’ll just make it even better. And I have good memories to this song... [muffled question] Sorry, gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, bébé. [laughter]

Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic

"Oh my, feels just like I don’t try, look so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me, head down, swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everybody loves me”

Look, do I even need to explain this one? Didn’t think so.

Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

"I don't give a damn ‘bout my reputation, I've never been afraid of any deviation, and I don't really care if you think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change - and I'm never gonna care bout my bad reputation"

This one's fairly self-explanatory again. It could have been my personal anthem when I was mortal quite honestly. And it's an awful lot of fun to jump about and headbang to, don't you think? That's a new thing I've found out about, headbanging. People have been hopping about to music looking like fools for centuries but now there's a name for it. Fantastic.

bad guy - Billie Eilish

"I’m that bad type, make your mama sad time, make your girlfriend mad type, might seduce your dad time… I’m the bad guy. Duh.”

Creepy? Check. Sexy? Check. Tongue-in-cheek? Check check. This song was great and a lot of fun to cover.

Lover to Lover - Florence + the Machine

“I believe there’s no salvation for me now, no space among the clouds, and I feel I’m heading down, but that’s alright, that’s alright, that’s alright”

I don’t know, this one just felt very relevant. Also the piano was great to do. You might have noticed that I’ve picked a lot of songs with piano, and that’s because I bullied the studio into getting me a goooooorgeous grand piano for the recording space and I wanted to use it as much as possible!

Feeling Good - Muse

“Stars when you shine, you know how I feel, scent of the pine, you know how I feel, oh freedom is mine, and I know how I feel”

I just really like this song - I’ve done a cover of an excellent cover! Can- can you put emojis in this? Do people still use emojis? Well imagine I’ve put the shrug one. Wait, isn’t there- Daniel, Daniel, come here, isn’t there a shrug emoji made up of keyboard- [muffled words] yes! The shrug one! Yes, put that in the transcription. [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] I just like this song.

The Man - The Killers

“I got gas in the tank, I got money in the bank, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man, I got skin in the game, I got a household name, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man”

I feel like this one speaks for itself too. Can you put that shrug emoji thing in here again? [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] Yes!

J'ai Pas Envie - MIKA

J'ai pas envie, de faire comme si, comme les maris, qui disent oui, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie d'te faire plaisir, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, si tu m'aimes viens me le dire"

Look, I'm not going to translate the whole song for you, because it has all this clever wordplay you just totally lose in english… but the gist of it is that these two lovers are… at odds a lot. It's… it's maybe a little spiteful [laughter] but in a fun way! It's a fun song! Louis won't even be mad about it, it's MIKA.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

"When I'm not with you, think of you always (I miss those long hot summer nights), when I'm not with you, think of me always, always"

[Long pause] God, I miss Freddie.

Let 'Em Talk - Kesha

Ah, full disclosure - I put this song in purely because of the expression Louis made when I played it in the car and it got to the line “can suck my dick” and she did that popping noise… it was incredible, and I just knew I had to cover it so I could see his expression when I said that. I can’t wait to play it to him. [laughter]

So What - P!nk

"So so what, I'm still a rockstar, I got my rock moves, and I don't need you, and guess what? I'm having more fun, and now that we're done, I'm gonna show you tonight, I'm alright, I'm just fine, (and you're a tool, so)"

I'm actually a big fan of nineties and noughties female stars - all that grrrrrrrl power, it's great fun, you know? I'd say this one is fairly self-explanatory, because I am still a rockstar! This is my new album! Fuck you EMP and your sniffy little article calling me "washed up"!

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

"But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear?"

This one could be self-deprecating, but it's also very vindictively angry at the same time, and that's a combination I definitely get. Like, oh, it's my fault, isn't it? It's my fucking fault again, what a surprise. Perhaps "learn from your mother or you'll spend your days biting your own neck" is a little on the nose… [muffled words] you've read my books, right? [muffled words] Good, good.

Missy - The Airbourne Toxic Event

"But I swear there's still some good in me, I think if you'd stuck around you'd see, all the botched attempts at integrity I once had"

Oh, I was feeling philosophical when I picked this one. No, philosophical isn't the right word… melancholy? Do people still use that word? "I swear I swear I swear I'll never get sad" is both furiously defiant and yet so self-defeatingly ironic. [Exasperated noise] Enough of that. Next!

Please Don't Leave Me - P!nk

"I don't know if I can yell any louder, how many times have I kicked you out of here, or said something insulting? I can be so mean when I wanna be, I am capable of nearly anything, when my heart is broken… (please, please don't leave me)"

Oh, we’re… we’re getting to this section now. [clearing throat] Well, I have to make up for that sucking dick line, don’t I? Get a bit vulnerable. Oh God, why did I decide to do this bit? [muffled words] [bad chicago accent] But why buy the cow? Because you love him, you really do. [sigh, laughter]

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

"Oh, I always let you down, shattered on the ground, still I find you there, next to me, and oh, the stupid things I do, I'm far from good it's true, still I find you, next to me"

Why did I- I don’t remember putting so many of these ones in.

Run To You - Pentatonix

"I've been settling scores, I've been fighting so long, but I've lost your war, and our kingdom is gone... how shall I win back your heart which was mine? I have broken bones and tattered clothes, I've run out of time"

[Sigh] [clears throat] Yeah. I think we can move onto the next one.

Love of My Life - Queen

“Love of my life, don't leave me, you've stolen my love, you now desert me, love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me, because you don't know, what it means to me”

I play this one sometimes on my baby grand when we've had a fight, and it's impossible for him to stay angry. He's a sucker for this sort of… formality in romance. God, I wish I'd realised that earlier. If I'd written him a letter in fancy copperplate script with scented paper and enclosed rose petals politely requesting him to bend me over his desk back in the day, it might not have taken two centuries of mutual blue balls for us to figure our shit out. Ah well, live and learn… as it were. [muffled words] Look, I did a whole bunch of vulnerable songs! Now I get to make sex jokes! [laughter] oh fuck off.

[brockadoodles]

kiss me at midnight - m. tkachuk

AN: The way i can’t WAIT for the season to start so I can gif short haired Matty... Anyways. uh, I woke up today and chose violence, so here’s a New Year’s fic with one of our favorites. Maybe one day I’ll stop posting at 1 am? Let me know what you think! 

Word Count: 2395

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, otherwise it’s fluffy. 

“Ten dollars says they’re going to make out within the next five minutes.” You quickly turned your head at the voice. You smiled slightly at Matthew, nodding at him to take a seat next to you. You had just met him that evening and had somehow ended up running into him multiple times throughout the night. You laughed softly at his statement as you swirled your rum and coke in your hand. You didn’t even have to look in the direction that he was pointing toward to know exactly who he was talking about. Your roommate had ditched you in favor of his teammate over an hour ago, and in her defense, he was cute and better one of you not to spend New Year’s Eve sulking alone at the bar. 

“I give them three, you’re welcome to hang out and wager me on it.” You joked. Matthew eyed you curiously, anyone that was willing to make a bet with him that quickly was someone he wanted to get to know. He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered himself a drink. He glanced over at your near-empty glass and had another made for you, making sure to tell the bartender to add it to his own tab and not yours. Your friend had very clearly left you to your own devices and he had no intention of doing the same thing, the least he could offer is buying you one drink. You just smiled at him in thanks as another rum and coke was put in your hands to replace the now empty one. 

“Would ya look at that, guess neither of us wins.” Matthew mused as he took a sip of his drink. You quickly turned your head to where your roommate was now pressed against the pool table, kissing his teammate. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Matthew, who was inarguably cute. No harming in shooting your shot with someone you likely wouldn’t see again in a crowded bar in Calgary on New Year’s Eve, right? 

“Bummer. To think I was going to bet you a New Year’s Kiss.” You shrugged, raising your eyebrow a bit toward Matthew, who now had a smirk settling in on his features. He leaned against the bar as he took a step closer to you, positioning his body between your thighs. It wasn’t uncomfortable, you actually found yourself smiling softly at him as you placed a hand on his waist and tugged him slightly closer to you, opening the door for whatever would come next.

“Me and you at midnight? Deal.” You rolled your eyes at him and pat his side, pushing him back just enough to give you some more room. The conversation started flowing after that, and you found yourself getting lost in the stories he was telling. Something about Matthew was captivating. You could blame it on his looks, maybe the way his eyes lit up when he smiled at you, or the way his hair was just long enough to see that it was a bit curly, or maybe it was the way you were sitting close together now, with his leg brushed against yours under the table that you had moved to an hour before. But deep down you knew it wasn’t just because he was some hot stranger who you were hopefully stealing a midnight kiss from, you and Matthew had a connection that you couldn’t quite explain further than it being what everyone describes in shows that you never bothered to believe in. You could only hope that he felt it, too.

Except, he must not have, because when the clock counted down and you prepared yourself to finally kiss him, he just held you close. Matthew tucked you under his arm as the crowd started cheering and he made no move to kiss you, something that even in your drunken state was causing disappointment. What you didn’t know was that he wanted to kiss you more than anything that night, but he wasn’t about to cross a line you had drawn while drunk. He wanted to make sure it was okay before anything happened, so instead, he settled for a soft kiss to your forehead and exchanging numbers as he put you in an uber back to your apartment. Leaving you drunk and confused as if you had just read the signs entirely wrong. 

You spent the next 11 months with Matthew, spending nearly all of your time together. You went to his games, you met each other’s friends, you spent nights with each other and there were so many frustrating pent up moments where if someone would have asked you what you were to each other, you genuinely would have had no answer. Matthew frustrated you in ways that you couldn’t pinpoint because his signals were caught up in the crossfires and you weren’t sure what you meant to him. You knew he cared about you, and sometimes his hand would linger just a bit too long on the small of your back, or he would fall asleep with his arms just enough around you that you would convince yourself that he felt what you had felt for him the entire time. 

You spent months dancing back and forth with Matty, replying that New Year’s Eve night over and over in your head, wondering why he never kissed you. Then you spent months to accept what he was giving you, a friend that cared about you and would do anything for you, but one that simply didn’t harbor the same feelings you held close to your chest. You couldn’t fault him for not feeling the same way, feelings sometimes don’t have a rhyme or reason as to why they happen. Sometimes the hand you’re dealt results in a win, and other times you bet your entire heart only to watch it get cashed out by someone else who didn’t care to have it in the first place. But you had spent a year waiting around for him, and at this point, you just needed to know. 

Matthew answered the phone quickly when he saw that it was you calling. He had just gotten back from a small get together with some of his friends from back home. He smiled softly as he greeted you, breathing a content sigh of relief as he settled down into what would likely be a long chat with you. You were Matthew’s favorite person and even though he hated being on the phone, he’d talk with you for hours about nothing if that was what you wanted. 

“Do you know how there’s that saying about how if you spend New Years with someone, that’s who you’re spending the year with?” Were the first words out of your mouth, acting on a stint of courage that your friends had practically shoved into you the entire time you were with them. They all wanted you and Matty to get your shit together and confess, and you’d be lying if them pressing you wasn’t a factor in this impulsive late-night phone call to the person in question. 

“Yeah, I have heard that one.” Matty smiled into his phone. 

“I have this theory. I think it’s actually that who you miss the most on New Years’ is who you’ll spend the year with.” You were glad this was just a phone call and that matty wasn’t there to see your face. You had been dancing around something with him for so long now, that it felt like you were stuck in an endless game of poker where no one was winning. But you were the dealer now, and you were giving Matthew the cards that would give him a royal flush if he wanted it, and god you hoped he wanted it. 

“You’re going to need to explain that, sweetheart.” 

“We spent last New Years’ together, and you didn’t kiss me. We spent an entire year together and you didn’t kiss me, but there’s something here right? Because I feel like there is, and even though you’re in St. Louis and I’m here all I want is for you to miss me just enough that you’ll come home and finally kiss me.” 

Matthew swore that he felt his heart lurch in his chest as he processed your words. You, the person he had spent the last year getting to know, spending nights together on your couch watching bad reality TV and arguing over what take out to order. You, the person that he thought about more often than not, so much so that he had made a routine of calling you after every away game, just because it was calming to hear your voice on the phone. You, the person that he had so desperately wanted to kiss the year before but didn’t because it wouldn’t have been right with both of you too intoxicated to make that decision. He had spent the last year assuming that you thought of him as just a friend and he had been sulking about it for months. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you were into me.” Was absolutely not the most eloquent way that he could have responded to what you had just said. Matthew internally groaned at himself as he listened to the silence that was now coming from your side of the conversation. He was panicking, racking his brain for the right words to string together to make sure you knew he felt exactly the same way as you did. For some reason, just telling you that didn’t feel good enough when you had just about taken his heart right out of his chest from another country away with your confession. 

“Fuck, that was not what I meant to say.” He ran a hand over his face, and he was thankful for once you had asked to just talk on the phone and not FaceTime. 

“I really miss you. And everything you’re feeling, I feel it too.” He finally settled on it, hoping that it was enough to convey his emotions. He knew he wanted you, he had waited a year for this moment to come to its head. A year of him subtly standing by your side, itching to reach his hand out to yours but not daring to make the final touch. A year of him hoping you wouldn’t meet someone else that could take up the space that he desperately wanted to occupy. He spent a year waiting for you, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Before he could stop himself he grabbed his laptop, pulling up flights as you started to speak again. 

“God, Matty, there have been so many times I almost told you how I felt.” You breathed out. He could tell exactly how you were feeling, he could hear the relief in your voice. He knew that type of relief, the instant gratification a person feels when they give someone their time and effort and it’s all reciprocated. He knew that feeling because as soon as you mentioned you wanted to kiss him, he felt that same relief settle into his chest, a feeling he had been craving for so long now. A feeling he could act on in a matter of hours thanks to a ridiculously over-expensive flight from St. Louis back to Calgary. 

“Can you pick me up tomorrow morning? From the airport?” He asked. You froze in bed, pulling your phone from your ear and looking at the time. It was late, already past midnight which meant it was even later for him. Your heart was racing and you felt like this was some hazy dream that you were bound to wake up from disappointed, the same dream you had experienced probably a hundred times over the last year. Matty was your entire world, and it didn’t feel real that he was finally something tangible. So you told him yes. You told him, yes and you counted down the hours until you got to see him, barely sleeping at all. 

You had never been the type to think you’d be standing outside of security at an airport, living out some terrible moment from a romantic comedy as you waited for the person you loved to come through the gates. But there you were, in one of his old sweatshirts, nervously tapping your foot as you eyed every single person that walked through.

You were totally sure that anyone watching you probably was rolling your eyes at the look on your face, the same lovesick look you see in the very movies you often complain about. But you didn’t care because strangers walking through an airport clutching their coffee at 7 am who you would never see again didn’t matter. Everyone had their own destination that day, their own trip that they were making for their own reasons, and your reason was walking toward you, looking at you like you were the only thing that he could see and that was what mattered. 

Matty dropped his bag to the ground as you jogged up to him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist and tucked your head against his chest, taking a moment to listen to the steady beat of his heart, the same steady beating that you had listened to so many times before not knowing that it beat only for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now because I’ve been waiting for a year to do it and I don’t think I can handle waiting any longer.” Matty grabbed your cheek, pulling your gaze up to meet his as his other arm tightened around you. 

“You can kiss me whenever you want now, Matty.” You murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed as you leaned in and pressed your lips lightly to his. You melted into the kiss, letting him pull you closer to deepen it just a little as the early morning travelers kept walking around you. You almost didn’t regret the time spent wishing for this moment, because in a way, the person you spent New Year’s with the year before was the person you spent the year with, and now you got to spend another year with him, being fully and completely each others. It wasn’t midnight, but somehow 7 am felt better than midnight ever could have.  

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Tell Me

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6   🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Tell me what it's like to be with you Remind me of the things we use to do And tell me that this time will never end Tell me what it's like, tell me again

Everytime you stay It never feels quite the same And everytime you go It hurts a way you'll never know

Everything I fear Shows itself everytime you're here And everything I know (I know) Leaves with you everytime that you go

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

                                               It was not easy to ignore her. I had spent days doing exactly that but now that she had pushed me away, I couldn't do it anymore. I felt like a creep whenever I'd find myself staring at her for a bit too long. How could I just forget about her and pretend that nothing had happened between us? How could I just pretend I didn't care about her anymore? That I didn't think about her all the time? That I didn't have feelings for her? It felt completely stupid to go on with my life as if she hadn't been the most important part of it in the last few weeks... as if she was not still a big part of it.

I looked at her as she walked out of our class, laughing with Daxia and Asher about something I didn't hear. She raised her nose up in a grimace and giggled a bit more but I just pushed my hands in my pockets, remaining motionless as she left. She was better than me at pretending, and if I couldn't remember the way she had kissed me in the elevator, or the way she had looked at me when she found out I paid half her rent, I would believe her. Luckily (nor not?) I could clearly remember all of it. The way she had ground on my thighs as we kissed deeply and how she had whimpered when my cock had swollen between her legs... The way she let me touch her, the way she sucked on my tongue when we kissed in our room... but most of all, the way her eyes fluttered when I placed soft and slow kisses on her lips after my claustrophobic crisis... the way she had looked so hurt and sad whenever I left for whatever reason... the way I could hear pain in her voice every time I rejected her. It was all those things that kept hope alive inside me. You can't just forget about someone like that, right? Not someone who had that effect on you, no, I didn't want to believe it.

I waited, hopeful that maybe she'd glance back, giving me just enough fuel to keep hoping for something, but she didn't, and I ended up walking back to my room only to grab my guitar and my notebook. I scribbled a few words quickly, the first things that came to my mind when I thought about Devon, and found a melody just as fast.

I stared at some of the words written and felt my eyes flutter as I breathed in. I tried to stop the tears and swallowed them hard before clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes. It couldn't be the end, I didn't want it to be, and now that Devon was ignoring me the way I had ignored her, I couldn't help but hate myself, knowing it was what I actually put her through, and probably even worse.

I took my phone and snapped a picture of my notebook and my guitar, wondering how Devon would have taken the picture and knowing it would definitely have looked better than the one I was now posting on instagram, but it didn't matter. Somehow, I wished she would see it and realize it was for her, but I knew there was only a tiny chance for that. I hesitated but added a few words from the song I had just written in the description part and blinked a few times staring at it, wondering if it was a mistake.

"Every time we get this close, It's always pulling us apart."

--

Turns out Devon didn't like the picture or commented on it. I was not really expecting it but I was hoping for it, but if I knew one thing about Devon now, it was that she was really stubborn. It was not what emanated from her the most, in my opinion, and it wasn't as important as her intensity, her feelings, her fiery, her empathy and her sensitivity, but it was still a part of her that I couldn't deny. I couldn't blame her, most artists were stubborn, I was slightly entitled myself, but her stubbornness was strong and I liked it, even if it caused a problem at that exact moment.

When Lewis invited me home to watch the game, I almost refused. I wanted to see Devon, but she had asked not to see me, and it would have been wrong of me to go to her place, knowing she didn't want me around her. I wanted to respect her and what she wanted, even if I was desperate for a conversation with her. I knew I couldn't force her to have feelings for me, or to act on them. It was on her, and begging her or harassing her wouldn't change anything. In fact, it would make things worse and anyway, it was not the kind of things I did. If Devon ended up giving me a chance, it would be her decision, the same way it was my decision to push her away and not take all the chances she already gave me. A bad decision, but it was all mine.

I finally accepted when Lewis told me Devon was leaving for the evening and even if I was disappointed, I didn't show it or mention it. I couldn't stop wondering where she was going and with who as I drove to my friend's and when I parked. I stayed for a few minutes, sitting behind the wheel, trying to stop the erratic beatings of my heart. I hadn't felt like that for so long. It felt like a heartbreak all over again, except this time, the whole break up was my fault and the problem was me. I leaned my forehead on the wheel and sigh until I heard someone chuckle.

"Are you napping before the game?"

I sat up and leaned my head on the bench before sighing loud enough for Louis to hear.

"You’re here for Devon, I'm guessing." I just let out without enthusiasm, not even looking at him.

"Nop, I'm here because Lewis invited me to watch the game."

It made me frown and I turned my head his way as it was still leaning on the bench. "What?"

"Ya head." Louis shrugged, glanced at the door of the building before looking back at me. "I thought Dev was going to watch it with us."

I raised my eyebrows and started my car again, shaking my head slightly as Louis got closer. "Hey, mate, where are you going?"

"Devon doesn't want me near, I'm certainly not going to spend the evening in her vital space and make her uncomfortable." I explained, putting both my hands on the wheel.

"Dev doesn't want you to avoid her."

I sighed again and turned my head only to meet Louis' eyes. "She was pretty clear."

"You know she likes you, right?" Louis raised his eyebrows. "She wants you in her life."

"But she made it clear she didn't want me around. I can't just go with your words, okay? I have to go with hers."

I couldn't pretend it didn't feel good to hear from her best friend that Devon actually liked me, but I was also aware that Louis wanted me happy. He had been taking care of me ever since that story with my ex girlfriend. I didn't know if it was out of guilt or pure friendship but either way, I couldn't deny that he was there for me, no matter what. I had been blabbing and complaining to him every single day since that stupid blind date at the restaurant and even if he was annoyed by all the shit I threw at him, he remained calm and collected, which was a first for him.

"You're right." Louis admitted, taking one last pull at his cigarette and throwing it on the ground. He pushed the smoke out of his lungs on the side to make sure it wouldn't come in my face and licked his lips. "You do give up quite easily though don't you think? She came back every time you pushed her away." he pointed out in a gentle tone.

"No, she didn't." I shrugged a shoulder. "We just ended up being locked together in random places."

"Maybe Lewis' apartment can be that random place."

I moved my head closer to the window and looked up at the building before sighing. "If I have an inkling of a feeling that she's uncomfortable, I'm leaving."

"Good."

I ended up in the elevator with Louis, rubbing my hands on the back of my jeans. I was more and more nervous as we got closer to his apartment and when Lewis opened the door, I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest by my throat.

I didn't ask about Devon but she didn't seem to be there and we all sat in the living room with a beer. There were a few guys from some of my art classes too, sitting on the floor, but I decided to sit next to Louis on one of the couches. I finished my beer quite fast and got up to grab an other in the fridge. My heart skipped a beat when I closed the door after grabbing a beer and my eyes got slightly bigger.

"Hey, Devie." I let out in a low tone, swallowing hard as my eyes roamed on her. "Uhm you-you look great."

"No need to lie, Niall." she shook her head with a sigh. "I don't know why I let Daxia convince me to wear things like that, this is so uncomfortable."  She pulled on the bottom of her dress roughly but all it did was show part of her bra. She was leaning a bit and I let my eyes roam on her cleavage for less than a second before looking away.

"You shouldn't do that." I pointed out, clearing my throat. "It's- it's pulling it at the top."

She looked down at her breasts and groaned, letting her head fall back on her shoulders. I had to admit I didn't remember her with that much cleavage and I licked my lips.

"Are you.. are you wearing a push-up bra or something?"

She looked up in my eyes with surprise and her lips parted slightly before she moved her head slowly from left to right. "How did you..." she didn't finish her question and shook her head faster. "That's it. That's enough. I'm getting changed!"

"No wait!"

I grabbed her wrist, two of my fingers and my thumb wrapping around it loosely. She stopped and breathed in, and I wondered if it was because she was annoyed that I stopped her, or annoyed because of that electric feeling that probably crossed her body the same way it had crossed mine at the contact of our skin.

"Devie, you look amazing." I admitted in a low and soft tone as she turned around to face me. I hated thinking she was going on a date, and all the scenarios in my head made my heart sink in my chest, but I couldn't lie to her. I would never lie to her again. "You really do. You look beautiful."

She bit her bottom lip and nodded as I let go of her wrist and she pulled on the top of her dress again to cover more of her breasts.

"I'm sorry, Devie. I know you're leaving but, if me being here bothers you, I can leave."

She looked up again and her eyes met mine. She just shrugged and cleared her throat, looking back at everyone in the living room before turning back to me again.

"No it's okay, I know Lewis is your friend." she shrugged, grabbing her purse on the table. "I'm leaving for the evening anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

I remained silent and pushed my hands in my pockets, holding my breath. Was I allowed to look at her the way I was looking at her?

"A pair of shorts."

"What?" she asked with a frown.

"If you wear a pair of shorts under your dress, it'll bother you less that it's short."

"The problem is mostly that I hate my thighs but I guess you're not wrong." she chuckled, raising her eyebrows. "It's a good idea."

I waited patiently until she came back, walking by the kitchen and waving shyly at me. "Bye Niall, thanks for the tip."

It took me a few minutes to go back to the living room. No one had noticed I had left for a while except for Louis, who turned his head my way as soon as I sat next to him. "Did you tell her?"

"Mm? Tell her what?" I asked, staring at the tv as I leaned my elbows on my knees.

"That you love her."

I turned my whole body his way, now only focusing on him, and shook my head. "No, and I don't plan to." I explained slowly. "Louis, she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you and you know it."

I didn't answer and turned back to the tv for a few minutes and finally leaned my back on the couch. "You think she's gonna shag a guy tonight?" I asked low and a bit sad, looking down at my beer as I turned it in my hands.

"No."

"Why not."

"I know Dev, she's not like that." Louis explained, letting out a sigh. "Would you shag a girl tonight? A girl that's not her?"

"What does it have to do with anything?"

"Dev is a lot like you." he finally confessed. "I'm sure you've noticed before. You two react the same way, you've been through the same things... both of you gave up on love and both of you are completely in love with each other. You stopped having sex with Mandy because Devon is all you think about. Trust me, you're all Devon thinks about, too."

"She told you that?" I asked, closing my eyes and swallowing hard.

"She'd kill me if she found out I told you."

---

An other week without Devon, an other week getting drunk and complaining to Louis. I had missed a few classes and always ended up in the music room to write songs on the piano after everyone had left until very late at night. I would probably get denied the access to that room if they found out I was drowning my pain in vodka, beer and rum while I was composing but I didn't care.

On friday night, Louis had begged me to join him in class. He had asked for the keys to classroom to finish his work and apparently, he wanted me to write a song for him that he'd use. I had never written a song for kids before but I was always ready to try new things. Besides, Louis had been there for me a lot in the past few days and I felt like I owed him at least that.

The days were getting shorter and it was already dark outside. Weirdly, the hall was barely lighted but I noticed the open door of a neon-lit room. I walked in and noticed Louis, sitting on one of the desks. His lips curled when he saw me and I realized I hadn't seen a small classroom like that before.

"Neil, hey, I'm glad you're here." he raised his eyebrows, jumping off the desk and walking to me. "I really need you."

"Yea, of course." I frowned, looking around the room. "I mean we could have worked in my room, or yours?"

"Mm no, we couldn't." he replied, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and bringing me closer into a weird hug. "It really had to be here."

"Okay, you're being weird. It sounds like a bad horror movie. Are you gonna kill me or something?"

Louis chuckled as I looked at him and he took a few steps back, throwing his arms in the air.

"I'd never do that, Niall. You're my best friend!"

I took a step closer when he reached the hall and he moved his hand in front of himself, making me stop immediately. "Wait here a minute or two, okay?"

"Alright."

I sighed and sat on a desk, my guitar on my lap, and let my fingers slide on the strings gently. It's only when I heard a voice in the hall that I looked up and frowned. My heart skipped a beat when Devon walked by the door, her eyes covered with Louis' hands but I frowned and raised my hands up when I noticed Lewis, slightly behind them, who was telling me to keep quiet with a finger on his lips.

"Lou, I hate surprises, you know it." she let out, nibbling on her bottom lip.

Despite all the stress my friends were putting me through, I still found myself thinking about kissing her as my eyes fell on her mouth and I held my breath.

"Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, alright?"

"Mmhm."

Slowly, he removed his hands from her eyes and I stood there, not really knowing what the hell they were trying to do. Devon didn't want to talk to me, she didn't want to be around me or hear about me, and bringing her here was not going to change anything, I knew it. It's only when Louis closed the door and I heard the lock that I understood.

"No!" I Iet out, jumping off the desk as I gripped my guitar tighter. "NO!"

I hit the door a few times without looking back at Devon but I knew that by now, she had understood what was happening. Our friends had decided to lock us in a room without our consent and I could feel myself get dizzy at that thought.

"It's not funny guys! I'm claustrophobic!" I yelled, hitting the door again with the side of my fist. "Let me out!"

"The room is big enough and there's like, five windows, Niall!"

"Yea!" Lewis agreed. "Feel lucky, at first we had thought about the janitor's closet!"

"Guys, it's not cool!" I begged, leaning my forehead on the door. "And it's useless."

"No it's not!" Louis let out as I closed my eyes and groaned low. "Solve your shit! I'm tired to hear both of you talk about each other!"

"Plus, we stole your phones." Lewis let out with a laughter. "I took Devon's when she was not looking and she just thought she lost it. Louis stole yours a few minutes ago."

I frowned and my hand reached for my pocket, realizing he was right and I just rolled my eyes. My heart was beating so hard I was wondering if it would just stop completely at some point. It was not a claustrophobia crisis though, it was just the fact that once again, I was locked with Devon somewhere but this time, the roles were reversed. She was the one who was avoiding me.

"Neil, tell her, okay?"

I didn't answer him. I just licked my lips and turned around, scared of what was going to happen. Devon raised her eyebrows at me and pressed her lips together, her arms wrapped around herself. She tilted her head and I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Tell me what?"

-

Request

[kerwritesthings]

The Heartbeat of Inspiration

Summary: Musicians find magic within the simplest sounds, especially when it’s laced with love

Word Count: just shy of 1.5k

Warnings: silly and sweet with some fluff and a slight dip into cheeky fucker

Author Notes: I had been lamenting earlier Saturday that I wanted to write, opened a few things I have going (which I HATE having multiple things started let alone started and just hanging) none sparked joy at the moment, prompts I’m sitting on were doing the same. Was about to close down for the night when Bre @fallinallincurls decided to blog THIS and then all of a sudden, a word doc was opened and I vomited 250 words in like 10 minutes. I had about 1k done in an hour, then it took a turn. All in all, 2 hours to bang out this whole thing start to finish. CRAZY. Miss muse, she has a mind of her own.

This falls earlier in the verse than I’ve been writing lately, like somewhere between Sharing a Look and Because I Need You. Totally can be a stand-alone but as always, verse knowledge helps. Full masterlist can be found here.

“Can I play you something?” he asks earnestly, guitar slung on his back as he reaches for your hand.

“Of course, always. But why not here?” you question as he pulls you through the maze of people, cases and wires, down a random hallway you don’t remember seeing before. He peeks around the corner and ducks you both into a dimly lit room.

“Because,” he smiles, swinging his guitar around before hopping up on the counter in the small space he’s found.

“Because is so not an answer my dear. What are you up to Shawn?” you knit your eyebrows as you pop down cross legged on the floor across from him.

“When you were on that call before, after sound check? I didn’t want to sit or anything. Too much rolling through me,” he explains strumming lightly. “I felt something bubbling. I needed to play and write and just be you know? Bus wouldn’t do it or my room cause everyone would be popping in and out. I went to wander, it got quieter. Found this. Not sure why we’re not using it considering everyone’s on top of each other in this place.”

“I thought you went to nap, I know the bus and all the extra stuff hasn’t been the best for you for sleep,” you start before he jumps back in.

“Nope. Was in here. Remember that progression that’s been eating at me? The one I made you record on your phone the other morning?” he plays it, and eases into it further, looping back to the original. “Music’s done. Or I think it is.”

He goes head down, focusing solely on the guitar and the sounds coming from it. You love all facets of this man of yours, but seeing him in his element, creating, in love with the music. The way you get to see him, the way he allows you to see him this way; it’s nothing short of special. Towards the end he’s bopping his head along as he strums, smile creeping across his lips.

“And so yeah, it’s that,” he shrugs, bashful and flushing all of a sudden.

“Can you play it for me again?” you request. “Please?”

He turns a few shades pinker, deeper. “Really?”

You nod, looking him straight in the eye, lips quirking up on one side.

He slides back into music mode, this time a little surer of the chords and the strings underneath his fingers. He looks up at you more this go, cheeky little grin as he progresses. Head bops a little more towards the end of this go, the newness still there but something with it settling underneath his skin and into his bones.

“I think I’ve got the start of lyrics too,” he mumbles, fingers drumming against the front of the light washed wood. “If all goes well, wanna get this down, mixed. Done. Drop it when we get back from all this. A surprise, a thank you, an end note to this bit of running if you will.”

“What brought this all on all of a sudden? What’s the inspiration?” you question, head tilting to the side just enjoying the scene folding out in front of you. He’s always pretty in your eyes, but when he gets deep into his music, he’s ethereal with a whole other glow.

“You,” he says so matter of factly, not looking up from his fingers fidgeting across the frets now. “The other night, when you finally got in, and you slid into my arms. Something just popped, clicked. It was this feeling of calm and serenity, that nothing else mattered but that single moment with you. I heard the progression in your heartbeat, as fucking cheesy as it sounds, but I did. It hit, stuck in my head even when we slept. Felt it again, stronger and more sure really, when I woke up with you sleeping on me. Why I made you record me playing it first thing that morning. I couldn’t let it go, I needed to keep it.”

“I had to go and fall in love with a poetic as shit songwriter,” you sniff, shifting to your feet to get to him.

He hopped down off the counter, slinging his guitar behind him to get you into his arms.

“I warned you that this whole muse thing for a musician was real,” he laughs brightly, holding you tightly to him. “You’re a pretty damn good one at that. Thank you, baby.”

You nuzzle your face against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, wrapping your arms about his waist being careful of the guitar behind him and just hold him so for a few minutes.

“Love you pretty girl,” he whispers, nudging your face up to look at his. “So damn much.”

He leans down, dusting the softest kisses across your face, hitting your eyelids, cheeks, the tip of your nose before carefully pressing into your lips. You’re lost in the moment, in him, in the bubble. Then your phone starts buzzing wildly in your pocket, Shawn’s following suit.

“Shawn,” you utter against his lips, pulling away ever slightly.

“They can wait,” he mutters against your jaw, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to bring you closer into him. “Wanna love on you a bit before I have to go into show mode. I’ve missed you, missed being this close. You feel good under my hands, the taste of you on my lips.”

He hits this spot on your neck that makes you let go something between a moan and a sigh. “The part of me that loves you so much wants to say to hell with them all, but the rational part of me that knows if they’re hitting both of our phones…”

Shawn doubles down, nose skirting against your skin with his tongue following. “Couple more minutes, please?”

“Baby, sweetheart,” you fight out as he nips at your ear while slipping his thigh between your legs. “You’re not fighting fair. You’ve got folks to see, fans to make swoon, songs to sing.”

“I’m seeing you; I’m making you swoon, I can sing to you,” he utters into your ear, hips canting against yours. “You’re my favorite audience.”

“What’s gotten into you…” you begin just as a familiar face busts into the room.

“There you are. Kids, really?” Cez barks through a deep laugh. “Enough of that. You two are damn lucky it’s me that found you and not say Andrew or even Louis, who by the way is here tonight.”

“I tried,” you say, trying to peel back from him, but he won’t let his grip on you go, his head leaning down into your shoulder at this point.

“Yep, ‘smy fault, but do you blame me man?” he grins wickedly as he picks up his head and pulls you into a much more PG hold. “My girl that I love is here, you know how much I’ve missed the hell out of her and I mean look at her. You’re lucky I’ve behaved at all lately.”

“Shawn,” you push at him, face bright red.

Cez rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You are lucky I care about you the way I do, kid. God help me why I do, I wonder sometimes. You have 15 minutes to get yourself back to your room, cleaned up and changed before meet and greet starts. If you cannot behave, I will take your love with me, so you have to behave. Get it?”

“Come on,” you push him towards the door and in Cez’s direction while still tangled in his grasp. “Time to go be a Rockstar, Shawn.”

He loosens his grip on you, kissing your forehead before letting you go. Shawn nudges at him as he walks towards the door. Cez throws his arm around his neck in a loose head lock. The two walk through the door and down the hallway that way for a beat.

“Thank god for you. Someone here that he’ll really listen to,” Cez replies, letting him free of his hold.

“I listen to you,” he sticks his tongue out at him in retaliation as they hit the main hallway backstage.

“See what I deal with? Go, I’m back for you at 4!” Cez calls out walking past the both of you

“Wanna dress me?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a wink as you get through to his room.

“I’ll help choose, no touching now, but I call dibs on getting you out of it later ok?” you pick through the rolling rack on the far wall.

He comes behind you to hug you again, his chin hooking over your shoulder. “Promise?”

You twist to kiss him as best you can. “Post Rockstar show Shawn is one of my favorites so yes, of course. Me, you and that couch after the show.”

“It’s a date.”

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @etherealpetey, @sinplisticshawn​, @hollandraul, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry, @adelaidestreets, @thotmendes

*Always feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

[brokenjardaantech]

abstract ghosts, concrete lives

written for this prompt challenge. rated T for potentially disturbing scenes but nothing too graphical imo.

relationship: captain allen/simon

fandom: detroit: become human

summary: 

But there are also times like this when his mind betrays him. Images too fleeting to be described even in the broadest sense flash in front of his mind, haunting him and dragging him to the deep end no matter how hard he tries to focus on the good, the neutral, the reality.

also on ao3

---

Louis Allen prides himself in being able to more or less take care of himself properly despite having lived alone for more than ten years. Of course, his usual routine has been disrupted since the arrival of a certain little kid on his doorstep, but that doesn’t change the fact that he goes to sleep and wakes up regularly unless his child needs him and he is woken up by their cries; even if he is tired enough to sleep through them, there is always Simon to take up the job, and by now Shub sees the android as their second father more than anything else - not that Louis will have it any other way, the android being more human than most actual humans he has ever met. 

But there are also times like this when his mind betrays him. Images too fleeting to be described even in the broadest sense flash in front of his mind, haunting him and dragging him to the deep end no matter how hard he tries to focus on the good, the neutral, the reality, Shub being compressed into the simplest shapes before shattering like broken glass, Simon’s body falling apart piece by piece as his face twists in the gravity of an object heavier than a black hole and his arm stretched outward awkwardly and his mouth open in a static-filled scream, a tide of white and brown that manages to remind him of the darkness at the same time sweeping them away until he blinks and his heart races and suddenly he is back to staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Simon curled up against his side, the android’s breath too deep and regular to be a regular human’s but his movement and position also too human to be a regular android’s. Simon’s mere presence and regular heartbeat are usually enough to calm Louis down, but as the cycle repeats itself for the sixth time and midnight passes, he knows that it isn’t going to help tonight. Not wanting to disturb the android’s stasis with his own tossing and turning in case those images turn into actual nightmares which he would have no control over, he slides off his bed, careful not to disturb Simon, and pads first to check on Shub, finding them still sound asleep and their vitals steady and strong, then climbs the stairs to the attic which is, most of the times, his own space. 

A small window allows him a narrow view of what is outside his house from this angle, and normally speaking he can stare at the nothingness until he bores himself out and falls asleep because of it, but tonight, the shadows and darkness only brings out the ones his mind creates for him to fill the gaps in his memory that he has known since a long time ago that exist but never sought them out: they are mostly from before his eighth birthday which to this day he still has zero recollection off, but on top of that there are also moments with his mother who went MIA shortly before he graduated from high school, things that he did together with his father that returns as him speaking more than ten languages without a single memory on why and how he learnt them, events that he brought his sister to (or vice versa) that confuses him whenever she mentions them because he never remembers. Tonight, they all blend into one, reality mixing with imagination and memories that should have been long gone but choose this moment to resurface temporarily before disappearing like wisps of dissipating smoke, untouchable and uncontrollable and gone just like the ages. So he alternates between drawing and writing, trying to capture bits and pieces of the images at the front of his mind with his stylus and his fingers while being completely oblivious to the numbness of his crossed legs and the knot forming on his back and the dryness of his eyes, but even though the logical and adult part of him tells him that he isn’t exactly twenty and young anymore and he should be aware of the strain he is putting on his body, the part of him that has always been running from the lost memories, the one that somehow manages to remain a scared little boy despite four decades’ worth of life experience and growing pain - it just takes over and urges him to let everything out until his entire body is shaking and the page is full. Guided by the magnets within the two devices, the stylus snaps to the side of the tablet automatically, its light blinking yellow to indicate that it is charging, and Louis puts down the tablet on the floor next to him before he closes his suddenly-heavy eyelids and unwinds his body with a wince and too many popping joints and needles underneath his skin. He picks up his tablet again to take a better look at what the hell he spent the last… two hours and a half working on just to hear the familiar creak of wooden floorboards, the attic illuminated by the faint blue glow of Simon’s LED. Louis freezes like a deer in headlights.

The android folds himself into the already-cramped space of the attic and sits with his legs folded underneath him next to the human, his hand reaching for Louis’ thigh, and the warmth through his sweatpants is enough to drain whatever fight that remains in his body away. So much for going back before Simon notices.

‘I woke up and you weren’t there,’ Simon whispers without breaking eye contact. Then he cocks his head, his LED spins yellow, and he continues, ‘You didn’t sleep at all.’

Louis blinks and looks away, suddenly embarrassed. ‘Can’t.’

He can feel Simon’s intense gaze on his own face. ‘Why?’

He starts fidgeting with the stylus by removing it from where it’s attached to the side of the tablet just to let it snap back again. ‘Memories,’ some images still flash in front of his eyes, but they are less haunting now, less graphic, less detailed, ‘or lack thereof. I try not to think about them.’

‘But…?’

‘Sometimes they just come back and haunt me.’

‘Do you want to talk about them?’

Louis unlocks the tablet to view his creation again, a mixture of abstract images and words that don’t make sense when put together that hurts his head to look at, telling him that keeping it and letting anyone else even glance at it is a mistake, is a torture, and that it shouldn’t have existed in the first place, but they are a representation of his own head so they must have been there since a long time ago but it’s just his damned fault for avoiding the issue and running away instead of facing it heads-on and maybe solve the problem instead of losing sleep and making shitty evil art and making other people worry about him and probably not being able to be a good father for his child in the morning because of sleep deprivation and -

The tablet is taken out of his hands with its screen turned off, suddenly leaving his hands empty and flexing and scrambling for something to hold onto, and the next thing he knows is that there is a warm body pressing against his own and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, grounding him and giving him very little choice on where his hands should go apart from winding them around the android’s waist as well. He inhales deeply, smells the detergent on Simon’s shirt and the body wash that they share, and the chain of thoughts slows down and turns itself down until the thud of their hearts overwhelm it. He suddenly feels restless, his hands twitchy and itching for things to do, but he’s lost, his brain isn’t working, and his eyes refuse to close even though he’s suddenly so, so tired.

Simon stills, and that is when Louis realises that the android has been rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to further calm him down. ‘Let’s get back in bed, shall we?’ he asks, his voice soft and barely audible, but the way he phrases it makes it sound more like a command than a question, so Louis lets himself be guided down the attic and back into their bedroom under the covers, the two of them lying on their sides and facing each other. ‘Do you want me to stay awake with you, or may I go into stasis for now?’

‘Stasis,’ Louis answers immediately. ‘You need it.’

‘And so do you, but here we are.’

‘You are aware that you will most likely take over most of the childcare, aren’t you?’

A soft smile appears on Simon’s lips. With a hand on Louis’ cheek, he leans forward to kiss the human chastely and then pulls back. ‘We’ll figure that out when we wake up again. For now, try to go to sleep, okay? And don’t leave the bed even if you can’t; it’s better than getting up and working.’

Louis nods, and Simon’s eyes slip shut and his body relaxes immediately as he goes into stasis. He scoots close and holds him to feel his breath on his skin and his chest rise and fall against his hand again, and even though the images pull him away from slumber whenever he nearly falls asleep, everything remains relatively peaceful compared to the overwhelming barrage from before. Head now clearer, he thinks of what he will do after both Simon and Shub are awake, recalling bits and pieces of information that he gathered from his surroundings and his work to help himself make decisions: tomorrow is a weekday and has a high chance of being sunny for the whole day on top of being his day off. There are no appointments for Shub and neither does Simon need to report back to a CyberLife store for check-ups anymore, there are enough ingredients in the kitchen and the fridge to make a light meal for himself and Shub, the parks will also be relatively quiet because all other children are at school; maybe he and Simon can bring them there, have a picnic together, let their child have their fun without being harassed or bullied by other children because of their cybernetics and prosthetics that extends all the way from their face to their feet. He might need some strong tea to keep himself awake or a nap in the park to recharge halfway through the day, but it will be another day when the family can spend the whole day together and relax, another happy memory for Shub before their inevitable… no, he has faith in his sister and her people. They will figure out a way to make sure that Shub has many happy years to live before old age takes them. They have to.

Dawn comes with light alongside the grumbles of a hungry child rousing but not quite awakening yet, and Louis feels more than sees Simon’s smile against his neck as the two of them slide out of bed and begin their usual morning rituals with practised fluidity. He forgoes going to the gym in favour of spending a slow morning smelling of tea and warm breakfast at home with his family, knowing that it won’t matter much if he only skips it for a day and doesn’t let it become his habit. Ah well. Not like staying up all night is something he is planning to do often.

‘Picnic, Shub?’ he asks after swallowing a mouthful of pancakes. ‘Just you, me, and Daddy. How does that sound?’

Shub’s wide green eyes and her flailing limbs are answers enough, and as Louis’ own eyes meet Simon’s sky blue ones, it is as if one gaze is enough to communicate everything between them, Louis moving to prepare for the upcoming trip to the park that may seem insignificant to most children but is certainly a big thing for their child while Simon coaxes Shub to finish the last of their breakfast and swipe the plate away from grabby hands before loading it into the dishwasher. 

It is another day.

[ericsonclan]

Heading to Bed

Summary: Clementine and Louis get ready to sleep and talk about the adjustments they've made with the loss of Clem's leg and Louis' added responsibilities.

Notes: I love these two so much <3

Read on A03: 

“Home at last,” Clementine exclaimed as she and Louis strolled into their room as night deepened outside the window. With a deep sigh, she collapsed spread eagled on the bed. Louis laughed as he looked down at her.

“Not wasting any time, I see,”

“You know it. Now, if I could just muster the strength to get this off…” Clem lazily shifted her stump, her prosthetic dangling precariously on the edge of the bed.

“Allow me the honor,” Louis lifted both her legs to place them in his lap as he took a seat on the bed. Bending over, he began the process of undoing the leather straps that kept it in place. As he eased the limb off, Clementine let out a soft hiss of pain. Louis shot her a concerned glance.

“Is it sore?”

“Very. It’s been a while since I kept it on that long,” Usually, Clementine split up her time between the crutches and the prosthetic as she tried to build up endurance. Today had been her first attempt at hunting though, so she had needed to keep the prosthetic on for most of the day while she was outside the walls. Overall it had been a successful outing, with four rabbits and a squirrel caught between archery and the traps. 

She was glad she had chosen to go with Aasim. Though Louis had been instrumental in giving her the encouragement and support needed to get back on her feet, she was sure hunting with him would have been a complete nightmare, with him hovering behind her and cheering her on with every step when silence was needed to hunt prey. Aasim had kept a respectable, detached attitude throughout the trip, giving Clementine her space, but being close enough that on the few occasions when she stumbled he was there to break her fall.

Of course, AJ had wanted to tag along as well to protect her, but Clementine had stringently objected. She couldn’t have the stress of keeping an eye on AJ and figuring out how to hunt again for the first time, no matter how capable the 6 year old was. Neither Louis or A.J. was happy with the arrangement, but they respected her wishes. As soon as she and Aasim were in sight of the school, both boys had barreled out of the gates and literally carried her back into the front yard. She doubted they had gotten much of anything done while she was gone. They’d hovered over her incessantly throughout dinner, asking her questions on what she and Aasim had done and seen in excruciating detail.

Once dinner was over, Ruby had mercifully pulled A.J. away for a while, asking him to help her with something in the greenhouse. Clem had given her a grateful smile then headed toward the dorms with Louis, using all of her willpower to keep from limping as they made their way inside. Now that the day was done, Clementine could finally bask in the pride of a job well done. Things couldn’t have gone better. Now she was home in the comfort of her bed with her boyfriend gently massaging the blood flow back into her leg.

A sudden stabbing pain up her leg caused Clementine to gasp.

“Sorry, sorry!” Louis exclaimed, pulling his hands back. “Was that too hard? I can stop,”

“No, it’s OK. It’s just more tender than usual. It still feels good,”

Hesitantly, Louis reached for her leg again and began to gently massage around the base, thumbs rolling soft circles into her aching stump. Clem moaned appreciatively.

“Yeah, right there. That’s sooo much better,”

“Y’know, I’ve become quite good at this if I do say so myself,” Louis smirked playfully at Clementine. “It must be because I’m so talented with my fingers,” It took a second for his own words to sink in. “Oh shit, wait, not like that! I meant because of my piano playing…” He lowered his face in shame, hiding behind his dreadlocks.

Clem giggled. “Smooth, Louis. Very smooth,”

After the awkwardness had faded, they settled into a comfortable silence, Louis continuing to absentmindedly rub Clementine’s leg as she lay with eyes closed, savoring the moment. She felt like she could drift off to sleep at any second, but she didn’t want to quite yet. She wanted to spend more time with Louis. “So…” she began, “What did you do today?”

“Ah, nothing too interesting. A.J. and I did patrol together and checked the wall for any weak points. Then I spent some time with Violet tanning some of the rabbit hides. I know they’re great for keeping warm in the winter but man do those things stink!”

“Yeah, I don’t envy you that job,” Clementine had been stuck doing inside work for the last several months as her leg had healed. Though she and Violet had found ways to keep themselves entertained in spite of the mind-numbing tasks, Clementine had felt the boredom slowly eating away at her soul. Who knew that homemaking could feel worse that living on the road?

“Anyway, after that Ruby had me haul a ton of water from the creek since ever since we started doing laundry she’s convinced it must be a weekly task,”

“You have to admit, there haven’t been any more lice outbreaks since she started her cleaning regimen,”

Louis shuddered. “Don’t remind me,”

“So that was it then?”

“Well, once I finished with the water I tried to sneak off to get some music time in, but Omar cornered me by the tables and had me chopping veggies for dinner. A.J. helped out since he was waiting for you to come home. We finished prep shortly before you returned and you know the rest up until this very moment,”

“Sounds like quite the day,”

“That it was. Thank God I’m usually much better at shirking than today would suggest,” He lifted her right leg to remove her boot, then began to massage her foot, humming a little tune to himself as he continued.

Clementine watched him thoughtfully. Despite Louis’ well-known history of avoiding work, when she thought back on the last few days, he’d really been running himself ragged. Hell, she couldn’t think of a time in the past couple months when she’d seen him slacking off, except for stolen moments with her. 

When she had arrived at Ericson, Louis would spend hours at the piano every day, practicing or composing to his heart’s content. But thinking over the last week, Clementine couldn’t remember if she’d even heard the piano being played. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she reached forward to brush Louis’ dreadlocks away from his face.

“Something wrong?” 

She could see that the area under his eyes had darkened, and there were stress lines around the corners of his eyes as well. How long had those been there? “Are you eating OK? Sleeping?”

Louis chuckled. “Wow, are those maternal instincts turning on me since A.J. is out of the room? Relax, I’m fine,”

Clementine gave him her best unconvinced staredown. Louis squirmed under her eyes. “You know it’s not bad to take time for yourself. No one would fault you for setting aside some time to practice your music,”

“I know… but there’s just so much to be done around here, what with hunting for food and checking the walls and prepping for meals…”

“There is such a thing as asking for help,”

“Nah, that wouldn’t be right. Everyone’s pulling their weight around here. No reason I shouldn’t do the same,”

“Louis!” Clementine exclaimed, taking his face in her hands. “Look at you! You’re worn out! Clearly you’ve been going above and beyond lately. There’s no reason to feel guilty!”

Louis wouldn’t look at her. Instead his eyes were trained on the bed, as if afraid to meet her eyes.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t get hurt,”

“That night, when we attacked the raiders’ ship… I didn’t get hurt. Violet did. You did. And every time I think back to what happened that night…” He choked on his words, tears beginning to run down his face.

“Louis…” Clementine gently brushed the tears aside, but more came. “Louis, none of that is your fault. You couldn’t have prevented what happened. And Violet and I – we’re fine! I mean, sure, things are different, but that hasn’t stopped us from doing what needs to be done. I mean, I went hunting today. I can take outside shifts again. It doesn’t always have to be you and Aasim.

“No,” Louis shook his head firmly. “No, I don’t want you to take that on!”

“Louis, I like hunting,”

“No, I can’t take it! I couldn’t focus on anything today – not patrol or the rabbit hides or those stupid veggies! All I could think about was you outside the walls and how the last time I left you outside-”

He was breathing too hard, his breath coming out in short, tight gasps. Clementine wasn’t sure what to do. Desperately, she wrapped him in her arms, holding him tightly. Louis buried his face against her neck and Clem ran her hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down. She wasn’t sure how many minutes it took, but finally Louis’ breathing slowed and he went slack against her, body limp. Clementine ran her fingers gently through his hair.

“I won’t do anything stupid that’ll get me killed. You know me. I could never do that to A.J. or to you,”

“It doesn’t have to be stupid to get you killed,” Louis murmured. “Mitch died saving Tenn. Tenn died ‘cause he couldn’t turn his back on Minnie. Marlon died….” He sighed shakily. “Things are different than the days where I used to while away the hours in the music room. It was wrong of me to waste time back then. It’d be even worse doing it now,”

Clementine sighed in exasperation and pushed Louis back from her. She took his chin in one hand so he would look her in the eyes. “Louis, I love you, but you’re being a fool right now,”

Louis’ brow quirked in confusion.

“Listen to you! How can you talk about music this way, like it’s nothing? Music is your passion. I don’t want you to give that up for anything,” She reached down and took his hands in her own. “I hear what you’re saying. We lost so many people back then in those days and things did change. But we’re a family, Louis! We all look out for each other! Not a single one of us would want our happiness to come at the cost of yours. When Violet and I were hurt, you carried us through that time. Now it’s our turn, OK?”

Louis mutely nodded.

“OK?” “

OK, OK!” Louis looked up at her, his eyes still wet, but calm now. Warm. 

“Clem…. You’re amazing,”

Clem smiled, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. “You are too,” She wrapped her arms around him once more, pulling him toward her until they had both collapsed on the bed. She inched forward until her nose was brushing against his. “This is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, you and I are going to the music room. And we’re going to spend the entire morning in there. We’ll lock the door so no one can bother us and then you can play me that song you wrote me. Or try to teach me how to play again – that is, if you have the patience,”

“I would love that,” Louis whispered.

Clementine reached out to grab Louis’ arm, draping it over her waist, pulling him closer. He was so warm and she was so tired. It wouldn’t be long till she was asleep. She looked into Louis’ eyes, so close to her own. “Promise me something?”

“Mm?”

“Promise me that you’ll tell me next time you’re feeling worn out. I count on you for so much. I want you to count on me too,”

Louis was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded. “I promise,”

“Good. Love you,”

“Love you too,” Louis breathed, resting his forehead against hers. 

After a few minutes in each others’ warm embrace, sleep overcame the couple and they both took their well-deserved rest.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 9c

"I think he has a long road ahead of him and I worry he's not going to want to commit to seeing it through."

“No me either.” He admitted.

"I don't know how best to help him. Emily and Jake are both still so upset about it all too." She sighed.

“I would be upset too.” He admitted.

"I just wish they hadn't tried to handle it all by themselves."

“That’s Em and Jake for you though.”

"At least Emily seems to be eating a bit better."

“Yeah.” He hesitated for a moment before dismissed the idea.

Duffy hadn't missed his brief hesitation. "What is it?" She asked, tilting her head to one side and shooting him a look.

“Nothing.” He smiled sadly.

"Charlie..."

“Are you sure she’s ok?”

"What makes you think she's not?"

“It’s probably nothing,”

"No, tell me!"

“I heard her being sick.”

"When?"

“Yesterday.”

"She does get sick when she's anxious..." Duffy replied weakly.

“I know, I know she does.” He smiled sadly.

"It could be anything. She's probably still upset about Louis, or worried about school or maybe she had another fight with Beth or Jamie..." Duffy stopped suddenly, realising as the words left her mouth that she'd said more than she intended.

“Beth and Jamie?”

"They're friends of hers." Duffy stammered awkwardly.

“Just friends?”

"Yes, Jamie is Jake's age. They go to the art school."

“Right.”

"Charlie! Don't be like that..."

“Like what? Is she friends with Jamie the way we were friends or..?”

"You'd have to ask her." Duffy replied, a little defensively.

He rose an eyebrow and smiled. “Is this where I promise not to go all protective daddy bear?”

"If you go in all guns blazing I don't think you'll get very far."

“She’s my baby girl.” He pouted.

"I know she is but she's growing up." Duffy replied, booping Charlie's nose before giving him a mischievous grin.

“She is.” He sighed. “They don’t stay babies for long do they?”

"No they don't." She pouted.

He kissed her lips.

She giggled as they parted. "Don't worry you don't need to distract me away from making any crazy suggestions..!"

“Like making another baby?”

Her grin widened and her eyes positively sparkled with mischief. "Is that a question or a suggestion?"

“It was a question.” He smirked.

"Shame." She sighed dramatically, a silly grin still plastered across her face.

“Fancy it though?”

"I could maybe be pursuaded..." She purred, stretching slightly as she felt his hand start to creep up her thigh under the table.

“You’ve got really nice thighs.” He purred.

"You're somewhat biased."

“Hmm, maybe.” His hand creeped higher up her leg.

"You are so predictable too."

“I can’t help it.”

"I've noticed. At least finish your food first. You'll need the energy..!" She giggled, waggling her eyebrows at him.

“Oh is that so?”

"Wouldn't want you flagging on the job."

“Hmm, no we wouldn’t.”

Duffy giggled at the enthusiasm with which Charlie dug into his food. "Now I see where the boys get their terrible table manners from!"

“It’s not me!” He laughed.

"Says the man talking with his mouth full!"

It wasn’t long before Charlie finished his meal.

Duffy giggled as he practically dragged her up the stairs as soon as she placed her fork down on the table. She was about to push open their bedroom door when the sound of vomiting drifted down from above.

“Is that Em?” He asked sadly.

"There's no-one else up there."

“Do you want me to go or you?”

"Maybe we should both go?"

He nodded, they went upstairs together. “Em, darling. Are you okay?”

The door of the bathroom locked quickly.

"Emily, we just want to talk. We're not angry, we want to help." Duffy spoke softly through the door.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing. I’m just sick.”

"You know you're not supposed to lock the door when you're sick though princess."

“I’m fine mum, please.”

"I want to check your temperature Emily."

“I don’t have a temperature.”

Duffy looked at Charlie, gesturing that maybe he should try getting through to their daughter.

“Em, please. We’re not angry or cross. Is there something you want to tell us?”

"I'm ok daddy."

“You keep being sick.”

Emily flushed the toilet and opened the door. "Look I'm fine." She smiled, hoping her parents would drop it.

“Are you making yourself sick?” He asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"No!" Emily replied defensively.

“If you are, your mum and I can help. We’re not angry...”

"Just coz mum does it don't mean I do too!" Emily fired back.

“Em! That’s out of order! Apologise to your mother now!”

"She told me herself, it's not like I made it up."

“Apologise now! Please.”

"I'm sorry that you think I'm fucked up like mum is."

“That’s enough! Go to your room!”

"Whatever!" Emily muttered, pushing past her parents and entering her room, slamming the door behind her.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked Duffy, his hand touching her cheek.

"I always feared this would happen."

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

"Isn't it?" She sighed then spun around as she heard a noise from Emily's room.

It sounded like things were been moved. “Shall we go and investigate?”

"Yes." Duffy replied, pushing open the door and finding the room empty, the window slightly ajar, the curtain flapping against the wall.

“You’ve got to be joking!!” Charlie went to the window, “Em!!”

Emily briefly looked up before jumping down from the wall that ran along the edge of the house and legging it down the road.

He sighed. “Do you know where she's going?”

"Beth's maybe."

“Is that one of her friends?” He turned back to Duffy.

"Um... Yeh..."

“Just a friend?”

"What are you implying?" Duffy asked, a little flustered.

“Is our daughter gay?”

"How should I know? Shouldn't one of us being going after her right now?" Duffy was fast getting agitated.

“I think we should give her space.” He replied, “She's told you there’s too much on her mind.” He paused, “Ah! I think I’ve got it.”

"What?" Duffy was struggling to keep up.

“You said the other night that she had a lot on her mind. And you mentioned two names earlier. Jamie and Beth.” He processed his thoughts for a moment, “She doesn’t know what she is, does she?”

"I promised her I wouldn't say anything." Duffy mumbled, her head in her hands.

“You haven’t said anything.” He pointed out, “I worked it out. Is that why she’s been off lately? Because she’s scared?"

"She was upset and confused because she hadn't heard from Beth since they'd got back from Europe."

“My princess likes girls?”

"So it seems but then there's also Jamie in the mix complicating matters somewhat."

“She likes both? Girls and boys?”

"I'm not sure she knows what she wants. But thankfully it seems like this Jamie was raised right and behaved like a gentleman at least."

“Why? What did she do?”

"It sounds like she... Well, I think she pretty much threw herself at him..."

He raised an eyebrow, “She's fourteen!!”

"I know, I know. Please don't go off about it..."

“I won’t.”

"I think Beth is where her heart truly lies."

“So you think she’s a lesbian?”

"To be honest I don't actually really care so Iong as she's happy and treated well."

He didn’t say anything. His little princess couldn’t be gay...

"I just hope she's not doing what I used to do when I escaped out my bedroom window at her age..." Duffy grimaced.

Charlie still didn’t say anything, he moved and sat on the edge of Emily’s bed.

"Well, we'll soon know if work call us to say she's having her stomach pumped..!" Duffy continued, becoming concerned by the lack of reaction from her husband. "Or she's fallen into the river..."

“I think I’m gonna go and find her.” He stood up, “Do you know Beth’s address?”

"I don't. Maybe... We could look in her desk..?"

He nodded, “OK.”

[oscopelabs]

Jonathan Demme’s ‘A Master Builder’ and the Elusive Magic of Bringing Stage to Screen by Tina Hassannia

Criterion’s three-film box-set of the works of Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory—My Dinner With Andre, Uncle Vanya, and A Master Builder—features several supplements, including an interview between the theater artists and writer Fran Lebowitz. She makes a frank confession: “I don’t like watching theater.” Gregory, a man who’s spent his entire life in the theater, says he feels the same way.

Lebowitz explains that she loves to be drawn into a good film or novel, but, with the exception of Shawn’s work, she’s never experienced the same with theater. She’s not alone. While theater may not exactly be a dying art form, it was long ago upstaged by cinema and television as our de-facto entertainment, and our appreciation for it has dwindled in kind. Theater requires us to suspend disbelief that we’re watching mere make believe, more forcefully than film, which benefits from a metaphysical distance from the viewer. Why sit through 2-3 hours of physical artifice just to see actors move through the spectrum of human emotion when there are so many easier and supposedly better options?

Those lucky enough to have witnessed really good theater know this a philistine’s line of thinking, but even so, its cultural relevance is tightly bound to its usurper, cinema: film adaptations of plays are usually better known than famous productions. (Consider the populist understanding of A Streetcar Named Desire without Marlon Brando—it doesn’t exist.) But adaptations are in essence, films, not theater. Transmitting the visceral pleasures of actual theater is nigh-impossible. If you’ve ever made the mistake of watching a recorded stage performance, you know you’re missing an essential thing privy to members of the audience. No matter the quality of the performance or camerawork, filming a play cheapens the experience. Theatricality is transmogrified into an over-exaggerated mess onscreen. The chemistry unique to each performer and audience, which gives birth to an atmospheric energy that changes with every performance, is lost.

A Master Builder director Jonathan Demme tries to describe a similar sentiment in another Criterion supplement, an interview between himself, Shawn, Gregory, and critic David Edelstein. Having seen the duo’s final production of A Master Builder —which Demme calls “literally spell-binding” and “very emotionally intense”— the director chronicles in the interview his experience watching Gregory watch the play. Having finished his part as Brovik, Gregory joined the audience, but, according to Demme, appeared to subconsciously direct the performers as if through an “energy field.”

“I remember seeing his face responding to everything that was going on there and feeling the connection,” he says. Edelstein follows up with questions, as what he’s hearing sounds too “woo woo”: Were the performers looking at Gregory? Was he in their peripheral vision? … What, exactly? It’s not Demme’s fault he can’t eloquently explain the phenomenon, because words rarely do the experience of live theatre justice. It’s an inexplicable sensation that can only be experienced to be understood.

Filmmakers sometimes struggle adapting plays for the screen. Those who succeed understand the key differences between the artforms. They preserve the essence of story and drama, the play’s unique blueprint. They subtly reframe the story to be told more visually. And they honor the reality that plays are usually verbose in nature. Results have varied in quality from baffling (August: Osage County) to transcendent (Amadeus). But the outcome is usually more accomplished in the literary appreciation of theatre—say, a modern or unique interpretation of a classic text, like Orson Welles’ Macbeth—than the emulation of that woo-woo theatre magic.

And then there’s Demme. The director took on Shawn and Gregory’s third film collaboration. A Master Builder is dedicated to Louis Malle, who brought to life the actors’ long-form conversation My Dinner With Andre and their modern interpretation of Anton Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya. Demme was a perfect replacement for Malle, as they share a visual intimacy in their work. Demme also benefits from a swirling chain in his aesthetic DNA: an unparalleled gift in recording live performance that sometimes makes you feel like you’re really there, really present, inhaling the performers’ energy.

In his concert films, including the masterpiece Stop Making Sense, Demme captures both spectacle and the musicians’ shamanistic force. In Swimming in Cambodia, a kind of filmed play, for lack of a better term, it feels as if you really are watching Spalding Gray’s affecting one-man show. Demme relies on close-ups to get us as close as possible to the performer, but maintains a respectful distance. Instead of trying to direct the performers to be more naturalistic for the screen, he blends himself into their forcefield. Perhaps this is why Demme is able to transform Shawn and Gregory’s take on Henrik Ibsen’s play into something simultaneously cinematic and theatrical. The humanistic, democratic POV that Demme often brings to his work nearly elides his personal perspective, thus allowing the viewer to virtually breathe in the full depth of the performer’s space and energy.

Shawn plays Master Builder Solness, a narcissistic aging architect who won’t allow his associates Brovik (Gregory) and his younger son Ragnar (Jeff Biehl) to build anything on their own. Tensions in Solness’ personal and professional life are a direct consequence of his tight reign over his company. Suddenly a mysterious nymph-like woman named Hilde (Lisa Joyce) visits the Solness estates, and their past history is one of many contradictions the play teasingly weaves into its narrative. Through the course of their labyrinthine conversation, the viewer understands how Solness views his selfish actions, the traumatizing effect they’ve had on his loved ones, and his deceptively innocent explanation, simply imagining his success into existence.

Ibsen’s original The Master Builder is a difficult play to mount and even more trying to comprehend, full of delightful contradictions that produce different interpretations.  One understanding—supported by Shawn and Gregory’s modern adaptation—is that Hilde is an imaginary figure in Solness’ death fantasy, a chance for him to reckon with his many mistakes. Shawn and Gregory crystallize Ibsen’s ambiguous magical realism into something more obvious, turning the typically physically robust Solness, who self-deprecates about his inner “trolls,” into someone who actually resembles one. (No offense to Mr. Shawn). It’s clearly intentional. He’s on his deathbed but then suddenly dashes into a spry man upon Hilde’s introduction. Their conversations are all a dream, despite seeming real. Occasionally the film interrupts their garrulous chemistry to show a more liminal headspace that very well could be reality: we hear beeping monitors and frantic nurses trying to save the comatose Solness, but all we see are Demme’s signature mobile establishing shots of trees and the architect’s many buildings.  

In A Master Builder, Demme gives the actors sufficient room to block their minimal but lustful action. The beautiful interior architecture provides an elegant and visually interesting complement to what is essentially a chamber drama, that most notoriously difficult kind of story to film. Demme toned down the actors’ acting so that it was suitable for the screen, as film tends to capture every minute facial twitch and shift in body language. But the actors retain a good portion of their theatricality, as it’s the play they’d been rehearsing and performing for many years. This is a rare feat in film adaptation: the preservation of theatre’s intensity and magic that piques curiosity in Ibsen’s strange little play.

The Master Builder thrives or dies on the dynamic between the actors who play Solness and Hilde; their immediate palpable chemistry is imperative to intrigue the viewer. So much of the play focuses on these two strangers oversharing personal details, a conversation that delves deeper and deeper into personal, vulnerable territory. It only makes sense for the viewer to know why these two people seemed “destined” to meet again, why we want to hear them speak at length, and with such intensity. The use of close-ups to capture Hilde’s wild-eyed fascination for her master builder, her hunger evident through body language, all seems outlandish for a long while until she reveals details of their shared history that Solness conveniently forgot. It sounds tedious but the pace is dramatic given the ugliness of their past. Until then, the viewer remains bewildered why a young, ambitious and confident woman would ever be so openly smitten by a troll.

Shawn and Gregory downplay an integral component of the story, however, to suit their “death fantasy” interpretation, for better or worse: in Ibsen’s original, it is pretty obvious Solness physically handled the 12-year-old Hilde in some inappropriate manner (according to her, he, all but a stranger to this child, kissed her on the mouth, called her a princess, and promised to build her a castle in ten years). It’s a conversation that is more grounded in the original and treated more lightly and ambiguously in this version. A practical, psychologically grounded interpretation of the original might conclude Hilde’s pursuit of her abuser is a trauma bond she never recovered from, with the “princess in the castle” fantasy carrying her through adolescence into young adulthood and here we are, ten years to the day, Hilde having found her master builder at last, so he can deliver on his promise.

But the film suggests a different understanding: here, Hilde is not so much a real character with baggage guiding her actions as she is a fantastical figure in Solness’ final reckoning with his id. While Ibsen appears to have written Hilde as something of a wild child (and there is symbolic value pointedly repeated in dialogue about her stay in the Solness residence’s empty “children’s rooms,” her presence also representing Solness’ guilt about his deceased children), Shawn and Gregory’s maximalist interpretation has Hilde literally wearing a childlike outfit. These outlandish aesthetic choices, while more acceptable in theatre, veer into ludicrousness in the subtler frame of the camera, but Demme’s setup elegantly frames it for magical realism—a form that some people have intuited was Ibsen’s real objective with The Master Builder.

One reason why this play remains a lesser produced work by the Norwegian playwright is its baffling complexity. Its many contradictions don’t offer any satisfying interpretation. One way to cut through the bullshit for a theater artist—especially one responsible for bringing it to the masses via film—is to hint heavily at their interpretation without directly spelling it out. That approach works best for two-dimensional, captured film. Otherwise the viewer may find A Master Builder, no matter how refined and well-filmed, an obfuscated maze to walk through. There’s just enough realism to make us question whether or not we are watching reality or a death fantasy. In either case, it’s a fascinating exploration of a narcissistic mind, and a gem of a play granted wider access through the medium of film.

[midnightcindy]

The Break of Day: Chapter 8

SMUTTY GOODNESS AHEAD!

After Leo left him, Louis walked the entire city it seemed, but could find no sign of Grace anywhere. He sighed, returning to his refuge fruitlessly. But when he reached the threshold of his hideaway, he instantly sensed something out of place. Pulling back the curtain, Louis revealed himself, and Grace whipped around with a gasp. She stopped her obvious pacing to face Louis. Her eyes were wide, swollen with distress and tears. She looked completely disheveled despite the fresh clothes she wore; obviously she had returned to whatever she considered a home to change into something more comfortable. Still, she shook uneasily, ducking her head away as Louis entered the space.

Louis’ heart rose at the sight of her, his memories of what had just transpired before she disappeared entering the forefront of his mind. He trained his features into his usual neutral expression. “What are you doing here?”

Grace was silent, fiddling with her nails and looking down in shame.

Louis tried to seem unbothered, closing some of the distance between them as he shrugged off his long coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Where did you go earlier? I looked for you.”

Grace flinched, blushing, but still said nothing.

Louis sniffed. “Really? Nothing to say? How unusual.” He circled around her, and she trembled in fear. Louis paused, uncomfortable with her panicked state. Something was certainly out of place; aside from Grace’s sudden presence in his dwelling. He rounded her quickly, to stare pryingly into her eyes. “Grace, look at me.”

Her chin twitched and she looked up to Louis, her eyes glistening with tears and her mouth a deep frown. Louis shook his head, unsure of how to continue. This girl was more than nervous- she was terrified. Guilt clouded Louis, and he looked down himself. “What did I do to make you so afraid of me?”

Grace shook her head violently, a single tear falling. “It’s not you,” she quivered, “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have followed you all those times… I shouldn’t have…” She seemed like she wanted to say more, but dissolved into shameful cries.

Louis stepped closer, his need for answers, for once, falling secondary to the needs of someone else. “What is happening to you, Grace? What will help you?”

Grace closed her eyes, breathing shakily, before saying, “Touch me.”

Louis inhaled softly, his fingers flexing on instinct. He pictured the passionate images that flooded his mind earlier that evening, but shook them away. “Grace, I do not know how I feel about-”

“Please,” she cried softly. “I can’t do it. You have to. Please… touch me, Louis…” She finally raised her head, and uncrossed her arms from her body.

Louis looked down to the front of her blouse, two buttons already unfastened, the rest of the row begging to be released. Louis’ blood boiled, catching a faint whiff of her scent, the natural perfume so much softer than usual. Louis’ fists clenched and unclenched. He tried finding her eyes, begging questions that he couldn't manage to say, but Grace firmly shut them, and waited.

Louis’ thoughts raced. Why was she doing this? Why was she so quiet, so submissive, and where was her usual pushy, playful self? Why did she seem to be afraid? What had happened while she was gone that night?

More importantly, why was Louis allowing himself to fall into her? Why wasn’t he stopping his hands from grasping the first button, the second, the third? Why was he pushing himself closer to her, tipping her chin upward, and swiping a tear away with his thumb? Why was he leaning down, pressing his nose to the top of her head, and sighing into her hair? Why was he wrapping his opposite hand around the small of her back, tugging her to be flat against his waist?

“Louis,” she breathed, and the weak, needy sound of his name sent a chill through Louis’ body. Her eyes still closed, Grace whispered, “Kiss me.”

Louis swallowed thickly. The hand that pinched her chin trembled with uncertainty. Why was he doing this? He was in too deep. He needed to stop now. He needed to stop. He needed to let her go.

“Kiss me, Louis,” she begged, opening her doe eyes that were glistening with something that Louis had never seen looking straight at him: genuine desire.

Louis panted, and with a final moment of doubt and a short surge of hunger, pressed his lips to hers.

Grace whimpered, and the sound sent Louis into a feverish haste. His eyes glowed as he pulled at his own dressings, ripping off his shirt and toying with his belt. He pulled away at Grace’s blouse, pushing it to the floor, never leaving her lips for a moment. As he threaded his hands into her hair- her long, soft, impossibly intoxicating hair- he realized her hands were firmly pressed to her sides.

“Grace,” Louis said, pulling back just enough to breathe the words over her lips, “what is wrong?”

“I’m scared,” she trembled, “I-I’m scared to touch you.”

Louis pressed his chest to hers, cradling her face in his palms. “Why?”

“I…” Grace began, her eyes looking downcast.

“It is all right,” Louis whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. Softly, he asked, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding almost pained. “I want it more than anything… to be with you like this…” Grace shuddered, fingers twitching. “I just… I don’t know how… without….” Then she began quake under his touch, whimpering.

Louis shook his head. “No, none of that,” he said, surprised at the softness of his own voice. “Please,” he said, brushing her hair away from her warm cheeks. “Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know…” Grace said honestly. “I just need you to keep touching me like this.”

Louis smiled, a small gesture that had Grace reeling. After he kissed her forehead, Louis swept Grace into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest. “Allow me.”

Louis walked them over to the makeshift bed, gently laying Grace down on the pile of pillows. He then laid down next to her, stretching his arm under her head like a prop. Resting a hand on her stomach, Louis leaned down and captured her in a sincere kiss.

Grace laughed lightly, “Louis, what are you doing?”

“I do not know what you need, so I am going to explore your body slowly,” he said, kissing her neck and earning a flinch. He pulled back, returning to her lips. “Whatever makes you uncomfortable, I will cease. But whatever earns me a delightful reaction,” he explained, smirking at her pleased moan as his fingers slipped under her bra to toy with her nipple, “I will continue. All right?”

Grace was already panting as Louis continued to toy with her breasts, pushing down the padded cup to expose her fully. “Y-yes,” she answered.

Louis nodded, smirking to himself as Grace’s eyes closed. “Good girl.” He loosed a hot breath over her nipple, squeezing the breast in his hand. Grace reeled back, arching into his mouth. Louis gladly covered the bud with his tongue, sucking gently on the raised flesh and all around the soft skin of her chest. He worked his way down to her stomach, kissing gently around her bellybutton and humming at every happy moan she relinquished to him.

When Louis grabbed onto Grace’s thigh, her eyes shot open. She gasped, but covered her mouth quickly. “I’m sorry…”

Louis removed his hand, continuing tiny kisses down her abdomen. “Never apologize,” Louis said firmly, but with compassion. “You should never be ashamed of your honest reactions. If you are uncomfortable, by all means, tell me.”

At his words, Grace relaxed. “Okay,” she sighed, her back stretching easily against the blankets. “Can you… let me take these off?”

Louis sat back, his hands reaching for his already unfastened slacks. “Together?”

Grace swallowed thickly, her cheeks flushing. “O-okay…”

In unison, the two started removing their pants. Grace unbuttoned her jeans with shaking fingers, her eyes darting back and forth between Louis’ naked body and the fabric under her hands. She arched her back, slipping her pants down her warm thighs. Louis, on the other hand, never took his eyes off Grace’s movements. As he slipped his slacks to the floor, kicking away the clothing, his breaths became more labored, his pants heavier with each inch of skin that Grace exposed of herself. His need for her only grew when her pants hit the floor, and she took the liberty of removing her bra herself. When she sat in nothing but a pair of cotton panties, body flushed and perfect, Louis released the breath of anticipation he had been holding.

“Louis,” Grace said nervously, her eyes downcast. “Stop staring…”

“Why,” he asked honestly, leaning forward to kneel before her on the bed.

She chuckled, embarrassed. “You’re making me shy.”

Louis laughed, and took her hands in his, pulling them from her chest. He laced their fingers together affectionately. “Grace, you’re incredible. Have I not shown you your worth already?”

Eyes glistening, Grace smiled. “Show me, Louis.”

Wasting no time, Louis pulled her hands to his chest, and pressed his lips to hers.

With a content moan of permission from behind her kiss, Grace allowed Louis to fall on top of her on the pillows. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and Louis reached down between them to press his fingers to her core. Grace whined with want, and Louis gladly slipped a single finger beneath her panties to toy with her.

“Grace,” Louis gasped between open kisses. “May I taste you?”

Grace stiffened for a moment, before breathing deeply and relaxing her body. “No,” she said, the word itself commanding, but her delivery shaky. “I- I would rather you kiss me…”

Louis grinned, teeth glistening as he bit her bottom lip. “Whatever you like, beautiful.”

Grace giggled when he captured her lips again, taking the liberty to continue his exploration of her core. He sucked her tongue between his lips, pulling gently at the muscle and groaning greedily at the taste of her mouth. Louis’ hips rolled against Grace’s thigh. He was aching for more friction, to feel her fully, as they both wanted.

Louis pulled away, staring down at Grace’s dazed face and puffy lips. His hand stopped toying with her clit, and he retrieved it to his side. The two stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what the other would do, but confident in their own feelings. They both wanted this, and the unspoken truth hung between them like a sickeningly sweet haze. Wordlessly, the two moved together, both removing their underwear and nestling into the shape of each other’s bodies.

Louis rested gently on top of Grace, her thighs pressed to the outside of his hips. His elbows rested on the pillow, framing her expression. He caressed her face, pushing brassy strands away from her endless eyes so he could stare into them. Tenderly, Louis pressed his lips to her forehead. “What do you want from me, Grace,” he whispered against her.

“Have me, Louis,” she said, eyes closing, a smile on her lips. “I want to give myself to you.”

Louis rested his forehead against hers, and aligned himself with her entrance. He pressed the head of his cock against her core, and could already feel how wet she would be. He shook, trying to steady himself against her body, unable to control his need. In his effort, Louis shut his eyes tight.

“Louis, look me in the eyes,” Grace suddenly pleaded.

The urgency with which she spoke made Louis pause; but when he looked down to the woman beneath him, all he saw was warm, welcoming brown orbs. Smiling, Louis finally pushed forward.

The two nearly crumbled into one another at the sensations. Grace cried out, but the grin on her face told Louis that she felt nothing but bliss from being filled with him. And Louis, for all his stoicism and steely composure, nearly whimpered at the feeling of Grace’s tight core pulsating around him. After adjusting to the new experience, Grace rolled her hips under Louis’ body, and Louis gladly responded by thrusting slowly back into her.

“Louis! Yes…” Grace clutched the pillows under her head, ripping at the fabric with a loud tear.

Louis grasped Grace’s side with one hand, steadying himself with the other to angle his thrusts deeper. “G-Gra-ace, ah,” Louis whined.

“That’s it,” she said, “God, this feels… incredible…”

Louis pressed his body closer to hers, fondling her breasts as he kissed her with desperate, open kisses. “Oh yes, beautiful. Please, keep moaning like that. I want to hear… you…”

Grace arched her back upward, and Louis hit even deeper inside of her, earning him a short scream.

Louis smirked, panting at the feeling of ecstasy building in his core. “That’s it, perfect. Keep screaming for me. I need you… to… come undone…”

Grace squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clenching and releasing in the pillow. Every time she reached out to touch Louis, she would furiously claw at the fabric beneath her.

That is, until Louis grabbed her hands in his, and pressed them down into the mattress. “Grace, focus on yourself. Focus on how I am making you feel.” With each word, Louis slowly ground his hips down into her core, his cock stretching her as his pelvis pressed onto her clit. “Can you feel me, inside and out? I want you to let yourself feel this. I want you to allow yourself the simple pleasure of a man making love to you. Can you do that?”

Grace tossed her head to the side, panting desperately into Louis’ wrist. “Y-yes…”

“That’s it,” Louis breathed, cupping her face in his palm, running his thumb over her wet lips. Grace continued to hold onto Louis hands, even as he cradled her cheeks. “That’s it, beautiful,” Louis encouraged, hovering over her temple as he panted the words. “Let it build. Let yourself enjoy this. Let yourself go.”

“Ah!” Grace tightened her legs around Louis’ hips. “Louis! Yes!”

“Yes, perfect, yes,” Louis said, his voice breaking, hips stuttering as he reached his climax. “Cum for me, please Grace. I am begging you, cum for me!”

“Lou-Louis!” Grace’s body shuddered beneath him, her core gushing with her orgasm. She clutched Louis’ hands, clawing into the back of his wrist until her nails broke the skin.

Louis hissed, but not from the tiny pain coming from his hands. He sucked in a harsh breath only to blow it out just as aggressively from behind his now exposed fangs. His eyes inflamed in a crimson hue as he tossed back his head, and came deep inside of Grace. His hips lurched forward, and he locked his body onto his lover’s. Suddenly, as if overtaken by a carnal spirit, Louis wrapped his arms tight around Grace, holding her hips flush against his. His eyes never left hers, the brown irises gradually brightening into a blood red sunrise. They held each other close, wanton red eyes matching their fiery expressions, fangs at the ready for marking.

The two beings shared a mutual understanding of what had happened, but neither one dared to say it aloud. So they remained content to hold each other close, unmoving, complete.  

________

Louis slept soundly as Grace shuffled out of the bed. She quickly put on her clothes, and stole one last glance back to Louis. He looked so peaceful, and for the first time since she had met him, happy. The thought made her stomach twist with guilt. She never should have let him get so close to her; the moment she felt herself falling for him, she should have run away. And now, look what had happened. Grace closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of Louis’ red eyes staring down into hers with obvious intention. They were bonded now; whether or not they wanted to admit it.

She tried to jog out of the room as quickly as she could without making a sound, but when she threw back the curtain, she gasped loudly.

Robert shoved his hand over her mouth. “If he wakes up, he’s a dead man.”

Grace shivered, shaking her head. “I- I put him to sleep, just like you said Bobby.”

“Aw, you think you’ve earned the right to pet names, bitch?” Robert slapped Grace’s face and she almost shrieked. “No, you’ve been incredibly naughty tonight, slut. Did I say you could fuck him?” Robert grasped onto Grace’s neck, but she dared not make a sound. “I told you to put him out so we could collect him. That was the deal. Now, I’m much more concerned with punishing you.”

Grace shook her head. “Please Robert, d-don’t… not again… I won’t run away, I promise!”

“Nope,” Robert said, pulling her into his chest, his hands slithering down her sides. “You’re clearly not responsible enough to act on your own. You’re much more fun when you’re a puppet.”

Tears poured down Grace’s cheeks, just as Robert leaned in and forced his mouth against hers. Grace’s hands weakly pushed against her captor’s chest, but her hits were ineffective. Slowly, Grace began to relax, her eyes glazing over until she was nuzzling into her master’s neck.

“Good girl,” Robert said, yanking on her elbow. “Let’s go home. Your fuck buddy will just have to come to us, now.”

Grace tilted her head, humming dumbly.

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting her cheek harshly as he pulled a pen out of his pocket. “He’ll know where to find us.”

[hollyoaksloversx]

Jarry Reunited, The Wicked Step-Father and Louis Love-Dead...

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (21st - 25th January 2019)

It was goodbye to the Lovedays this week as the three original members of the family bid farewell to Chester. At the pig farm, Louis was terrified having discovered that Breda was the village’s latest serial killer but he soon came up with a plan to get himself released. Knowing that Breda was keen for Louis to reconnect with Leela, Louis told her that that’s what he intended to do. Breda was delighted with the news and agreed to let Louis go, but her plans hit a serious snag when Simone turned up out of the blue. Having overheard Breda criticising her to Leela, Simone wanted to have a word with her and rather than just head round to the McQueen’s later, Simone decided to track Breda down at the farm. Luckily for Breda, she was able to get rid of Simone, but Louis used the situation to his own advantage and made a bid for freedom whilst Breda was distracted. Unfortunately, having two broken legs and being confided to a wheelchair seriously limits the amount of ground one can cover and Louis didn’t get very far before Breda caught up with him...

Breda was furious with Louis for trying to escape and began to question his trust in her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she discovered her confession down the side of Louis’ bed, and realised that he was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear regarding Leela. Despite Louis pleas, Breda whacked him round the head with a phone, killing him. Later, as Breda disposed of Louis’ belongings, a mystery figure was seen watching her. Meanwhile, back in the village, with Louis out of her life, Simone made plans to leave the village, telling her family that she was going to transfer to another Price Slice store in Derby. However, Martine kindly gifted Simone her air miles, telling her to go to Jamaica instead. Zack was also heading for pastures new when he received a message from Holly. The pair declared their love to each other via video call and Zack quickly decided to join her in Paris. As Lisa said goodbye to two family members she soon gained another, when Breda forced her to spend some time with Daniel by ‘accidentally’ leaving him in the shop. Breda was delighted when she overheard Lisa tell Leela that she’d enjoyed having Daniel around and offered to look after him again in the future.

Elsewhere, keen to discredit Jonny, Sinead got in contact with Ste’s step-father, Terry, hoping that he could provide some much needed answers on the newcomer’s identity. Terry proved to be no help in this department and soon set about trying to worm his way back into Ste’s life, claiming to be a changed man. Persuading Ste to give him a place to stay, Terry then stole from Leela’s purse and conned Ste into giving him money for a job interview. The wool was finally pulled from over Ste’s eyes when he walked in on Terry picking on Lucas and demanded that his step-father leave. Terry agreed, but on one condition; Ste help him steal the new TV’s about to be installed at The Bean. Ste reluctantly agreed but soon got cold feet and called the police, who sadly arrived too late to catch Terry in the act. Terry was furious that Ste had gone against him and brutally beat him up. The following day, with Scott being blamed for the break-in, Ste confided in Jonny about Terry’s role, and the abuse he’d subjected him to. Jonny promised to help Ste, and got his henchmen to beat Terry, seemingly to death, in a car park whilst he was trying to flog the stolen TVs. 

Meanwhile, Harry was crushed when James rejected him again in favour of building a relationship with Romeo. Keen to help his friend move on, Zack set Harry up with one of mates, however, the date was interrupted by James, who was left upset to see Harry supposedly moving on. With a big shove from Romeo, James was encouraged to go back to The Hutch and tell Harry how he really felt. James declared his love for Harry in front of the packed restaurant and was delighted when Harry agreed to give their relationship another shot. 

Also this week, there was delight for Alfie and Yasmine when both were offered internships; Alfie in America and Yaz with the Chester Herald. However, Alfie soon worried about leaving Cindy whilst she was still unwell and decided he wasn’t going. Going against Alfie’s wishes, Yaz told Cindy about the internship, and she begged her son not to put his life on hold for her. Alfie then worried about leaving Yaz behind for the duration of his placement and secretly arranged some work experience for her at a newspaper close to where he would be based. Unfortunately, Yaz didn’t take the surprise well, believing that Alfie thought her placement in Chester wasn’t good enough. She soon came round and agreed to go with him, but wasn’t sure that Misbah would let her go. She’s 18, isn’t she? Misbah gets no say...

In other news this week, Diane was furious when she spotted Lily and Romeo kissing and her aunt’s reaction devastated her so much that she started self harming again. Finally, Sienna was left feeling uncomfortable again after another run in with Laurie at school. 

5 Things We Learnt This Week:

1. Good manners cost nothing. Breda McQueen is a lot of things: Nanny, man hater, serial killer. However, you can’t fault her manners. She’ll always make sure she gives herself the cheap, cracked crockery.

2. Filming restrictions are easy to get round. “Holly’s meant to be in France, but obviously we can’t go there to film just one scene, so how do we make it clear to the audience that that’s where she is?” “I know! Just stick her in a beret and stripy top! Job done!”

3. Money worries are easily forgotten. Remember all the fuss made about Lily and Prince’s money troubles last year? Why is Lily now living with Tony and Diane, when she’s presumably still paying for the place she had with Prince? That’s not going to help the purse strings! 

4. It’s important to make use of every bit of space you have. Location filming can be difficult. It can be expensive and you might not find the right location for the time you need it. It’s far easier, therefore, to stick up a couple of signs in the grounds of the set and make sure that no buildings are in shot. Dot a couple of picnic tables around and have a couple of dressing-gown clad extras and nurses walk about and et voila, you’ve got yourself a private mental health hospital! 

5. It’s important to advertise your business and many people do so using their cars. But forget a window or bumper sticker, that’s going to get you nowhere. Breda advertises her services as a nanny by having a giant teddy bear on the roof of her car. I wonder if any other villagers will start doing likewise? Tony could have a giant knife and fork, Jesse a pair of scissors and a comb and Liam a bag of cocaine and a gun. 

Characters Featured:

Alfie, Breda, Cindy, Daniel, Diane, Goldie, Harry, Holly, James, Jonny, Laurie, Leela, Liberty, Lily, Lisa, Louis, Lucas, Martine, Misbah, Myra, Romeo, Scott, Sinead, Simone, Ste, Sylver, Terry, Tom, Yasmine and Zack. 

Past Characters Mentioned:

Carl Costello, Adam Donovan, Glenn Donovan, Pauline Hay, Ellie Nightingale, Russ Owen. 

[horansqueen]

BabyGirl 3.0

NOTES:

♥ this is based on a concept i received a few weeks ago and ppl asked that i made a story with it. ♥ i planned 3-4 long parts but i think it’ll be 8-10 short parts ♥ 3.2k. fluff. ♥ there may be smut but i doubt it and IF it happens it wont be as explicit as my other smut works. ♥ i didn’t proofread and if you read my stuff you know i never do because im a lazy ass. ♥ thank you so so much for all the notes and feedback for the previous chapters! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!! i hope you enjoy this chapter! ♥ if you have any questions please dont hesitate. ♥ read part 1 HERE and part 2 HERE

                                  3.0  ♥ APOLOGY & CULPABILITY ♥

HIM

I was pissed. Pissed at myself for not even noticing that Louis was bringing me into a trap. I like to think i'm good to guess people and their character, but through the years, I realized I was not as competent as I thought. Still, being played and betrayed by my very best friend was humiliating and incredily hurtful. I glanced at him and noticed guilt written all over his face, but it wasn't enough to take the feeling of betrayal running inside me.

"Wow, hey, it's been a while."

She glanced at Louis too and I breathed in before nodding.

"Yea, 4 years," I just pointed out, slipping my hands in my pockets, trying to find a way to escape this incredibly awkward and almost intolerable situation.

Could I pretend to get a call? Or a text message? Then run outside and call a cab? Was there any way for me to just run to the airport and fly as far away from here as I could? Even on the other side or the world I knew I couldn't feel better. It was too late. I had seen her again and I couldn't take my eyes off of hers.

She got older. I could see her hair were dyed but it was still pretty much the same shade of brown it always was, and I wondered why she'd do such a thing for so little change. Her dress was plain but pretty and she gained a little weight. For some reason, she seemed to glow in a way I couldn't explain.

"5." she corrected me. "It's been 5 years."

I was surprised when her eyes left mine to glance behind me but I kept looking at her. Perhaps, she still had that effect on me, but i didn't have the same effect on her. We used to be a bit obsessed with each other, and we could stare at each other for longer than most people would find acceptable.

My heart felt heavy, like stuck in a vice and someone was twisting it slowly, as if to make the pain less bearable and my death longer to come. I wanted to run away, yet my legs wouldn't move, i was stuck here indefinitely, forced to look into the eyes of the only girl i loved without being able to touch her.

"That long..." I nodded, as if I didn't know the exact date of the last time i saw her.

She nodded too and sent me a shy smile as I twisted the fabric of the inside of my pockets hard enough to feel my muscles tense.

"Louis... didn't tell me..."

She nodded quicker this time and glanced behind me again, where I only guessed Louis had gone, leaving both of us in a situation we didn't want to be in.

"Yea, no, he didn't tell me either." she chuckled, clearly uncomfortable. "Surprise, I guess."

We remained silent for a while and I started swaying gently on my toes. She finally closed her eyes and sighed, running her fingers in her long hair and somehow, it made my heart twitch.

"Look, Niall, I know it's late for this, but i'm so sorry."

I frowned but she kept talking.

"That fight was all on me, it was ridiculous, I shouldn't have insisted." she explained. "I'm so sorry for how things ended, Niall, I-I didn't want this."

Her apology hurt my heart and without thinking, I moved closer and grabbed her arms. The contact of my skin against hers was life changing, like electricity ran all over my body... like I was high on a drug I had never tried before. I knew she felt it too and she held her breath. My face was so close to hers I had to swallow and my lips parted but it took me a few seconds to talk.

"No, you really don't have to apologize, it was my fault, not yours." I whispered. "All mine."

From up close, I could smell her. She still used the same perfume as she always did, and it made memories invade my head. I remember the first time we met and how cold it was outside... and how bad I had wanted to kiss her. It made me realized I wanted it just as bad now, maybe more.

It felt wrong to be in her personal space and let go of her, feelings my palms burn again even if I wasn't touching her anymore. I took a step back and cleared my throat, forcing myself to look down.

"I'm surprised you're wearing a dress." I finally pointed out, trying to change the mood. "You look great, really."

She sent me an other smile, one that seemed slightly more sincere this time.

"Thank you, but you know me. If I could, i'd be here in my sweatpants." she pointed out, making me smile more. "The dress wasn't my idea."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, relieved that we seemed to have a light conversation after being a bit emotional.

"Who's idea was it, then?"

She didn't have time to answer, I saw a tiny little girl run between us and wrap her arms around her thighs. I heard her laugh and looked up at her, but she was only looking at the kid.

"Mommy! Look!"

With an enthusiast face, the kid moved one of her arms up to show a doll who was already missing a shoe. I had a hard time to mend the pieces of what exactly was happening here but I watched her crouch down to discuss with the little girl. They hugged and she ran back to where she came from as my heart started beating harder in my chest. She had a kid and she was probably taken. I always suspected she had found someone else very quickly after we were over, but knowing it for sure hurt more than I thought it would. It was ridiculous, it's not like what we once had could ever come back. There was so much pain still left, so many things untold and unknown... this small encounter would only make things worse and I was scared that after today, even If i never saw her again, I would be even more scarred than I already was.

"That's your daughter?"

She nodded and her lips curled into a fond smile I had never seen on her. I held my breath a few seconds, trying to calm the thumps of my heart against my chest without much success. I've always enjoyed seeing her happy and it made me realize how bad I missed her laugh. Not a chuckle, or a giggle. A real laugh, the kind that echos on the wall and always seemed to reach my heart.

"So, you're married." I just pointed out, clearing my throat." How old is she?"

She raised her nose up in a grimace and chuckled, shaking her head from left to right. The sight made me smile despite myself and I stuck my hands in my pockets again, trying to restrain the need I suddenly had to be closer to her once more.

"No, I'm a single mom." she explained before her smile fell. "She's... she's four years and a half."

I couldn't explain how good it felt to hear she wasn't married, and I sort of felt bad for liking it. That's why it took me a while for the other fact to actually sink in. My lips fell and my eyes got bigger. Something stirred inside me, making me suddenly nauseous and I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

"She's four years and a half..." I repeated.

Even though it was clearly not a question, I watched her as she nodded slowly, suddenly extremely serious.

"She's gonna turn five in a few months."

I pressed my hand on my mouth and held my breath, bending down slowly as i felt myself tear up. This couldn't be real. This was not happening. I had a daughter and I wasn't even aware of it, and all that seemed to flash in my mind was the fact that I didn't see her when she was born or when she walked for the first time. I wasn't there when she said her first word, and that for her, I was a total stranger. Did she even know she has a dad? A dad that would have loved her and cared for her if only he had known she existed?

"You..."

I couldn't talk, I was incredibly hurt and so many thoughts were running in my mind that I wasn't sure I could handle any at the moment.

"I am so so sorry, Niall."

I didn't want to hear her apologies, and I didn't want to hear her excuses. I just wanted to lock myself somewhere to get my thoughts and mind back into place. My vision became blurry after a few seconds and that's exactly when my daughter came back. Just thinking about those two simple words made my heart threaten to jump out of my chest.

"Mommy! Freddie broke my doll!"

It hit me so hard that it felt like someone was twisting a knife in my already open wound.

"Louis knew..."

Her head raised up at my words and her eyes opened wide as she was trying to fix the doll in her hands. Her expression betrayed her and I felt like someone had stabbed me in the stomach for a second time in the past 6 minutes.

Everything seemed to make sense suddenly. The reason why Louis would never talk about her or bring her up was obvious now. He couldn't or he would always risk to let out her secret. Lying to me was also not something he enjoyed and I guess he thought omitting something was not as bad as lying. But it was.

I closed my eyes and breathed in, trying to stop or at least calm the anger and hurt boiling inside me, but I couldn't help the feeling of loneliness flooding my body and mind. I felt sick and alone, and somehow, it felt like my ex girlfriend and my best friend had conspired in my back for the past five years.

Nothing could ever change that. Nothing could make that right. Nothing except maybe the love I already felt for a daughter I didn't even know.

HER

I knew that someday, i'd have to explain to my daughter what happened with her father, but i never thought it would happen so soon. I was slightly mad at Louis for literally pushing me into this meeting and forcing me to come face to face with Niall, but also with my own lies. I didn't understand why he did it. He could have done it years ago, why now?

I tried to push Louis out of my thoughts to focus on Niall, clearly as uncomfortable as I was, standing in front of me. I didn't remember the last time I felt so nervous and speechless, but having him so close after so long brought back memories and feelings I had tried to bury and ignore for years, and I wasn't sure I actually liked it.

He looked good, even better than in my memories, and even if I had tried to avoid him, his career and his music in the last years, looking at him after all this time still felt like home. Maybe the fact that I had a little child constantly reminding me of him helped keep the flame alive but it didn't matter. Niall was here and close, and the love I knew I had for him, even if i wouldn't admit before that it wasn't dead, was now burning my whole body and heart, threatening to leave only ashes. I'd be ready to give him my heart again even if the outcome would probably be as worse as the first time.

I felt the need to apologize for my behavior, but whenever I pronounced his name, my heart jumped in my chest. I felt like I hadn't heard it or said it outloud in so long it almost hurt to do it, but at the same time, it came so naturally and left a sweet after taste on my tongue.

A bunch of memories of when I would whimper his name rushed to my brain and made my heart jump. I could swear my cheeks turned a soft shade of red and I could try to blame it on the wine, but the thoughts made my whole body throb and my inside twist.

I always thought I had made the right choice to leave and let him live his life the way he deserved to. However, when he bent over slightly and seemed on the verge of tears, I felt incredibly guilty and bad for hiding it for so long. I could see the dimmed lights of the room make his eyes glisten and It really made me want to take him in my arms. I knew it wouldn't be a good idea so I just gave her doll back to my daughter and remained motionless, waiting for Niall to have an other reaction. Any would be good. He could even yell at me for what I had done, I wouldn't blame him. Instead. He shook his head and turned around to watch my daughter run back to the tree and he stared at her as she started playing with Freddie again.

"Louis has always known." he whispered, making me swallow an other lump of guilt with difficulty, before turning back to me. "He knew and he never told me."

"I made him promise not to tell you." I explained in a low tone, scared that my voice would crack. "I forced him. It's my fault."

It hit me that at some point, I was an important person in his life, and Louis was too. Niall had just realized that two of the persons he cared the most about had betrayed him, keeping a big and heavy secret from him, and I could understand it was hard to accept. I didn't even dare to hope he would ever forgive me.

I moved closer, placing my hand softly on his arm but he moved away and shook his head, rubbing his hand on his face for a while. He let out a few curse words and turned around, gripping his own hair and pulling on it. I shouldn't, but I felt endeared by the way he reacted, or perhaps it was simply from seeing some of his habits I was so used to see, yet had missed more than I thought.

"What's her name?" he finally asked after a few minutes, turning to me and diving his gaze into mine for a few seconds.

He looked sad and hurt and I did everything I could not to cry in front of him. For some reason, I felt like I didn't have the right to. He looked down and I swallowed again.

"Chelsea."

His head moved up roughly and he frowned. I knew he had a question burning his lips but he didn't ask. He just stared at me some more and breathed in, biting the inside of his cheek. I had never wished I could read his mind more than I did at that exact moment.

"Does she know about me?"

"She knows of you, but she doesn't know who you are."

Once again, he turned around on his heels slowly and moved back to face me, his hand holding the back of his neck. He stared at me and I couldn't hold all the tears anymore. I blinked and let a few fall down my cheeks without daring to wipe them off.

"When did you plan to tell me about her? When she'd insist more? When she'd be 18? Never?"

I didn't want to answer, and he guessed the truth because of my silence.

"Alright, never then." he said shaking his head.

I could feel he was getting angrier by the minute, but all I could focus on was the pain I heard in his voice every time his mouth would open. I would give anything to reassure him, but I knew that no matter what I did or said, it wouldn't make things better.

"I'm sorry, Niall." I whispered, making his face twist.

"Stop saying that." he almost begged before sighing extremely loud and leaving.

I watched him until he passed the door to go back to the cold weather without his coat and I shivered. I stared at the door for a few seconds until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I didn't have to look, I knew it was Louis, and at this point, I was way past being mad at him for setting this up. Plus, I knew he'd have it tough with Niall, he didn't need me to make things even worse.

"Why did you do that, Lou?"

My voice was weak and I felt numb as his hand slipped on my arm gently. I swallowed and closed my eyes again. I couldn't explain to Niall why I kept him away. Back then, it seemed so obvious and legitimate but now, the aspects and reality I didn't want to see five years ago were right in front of me, and didn't seem to make any sense anymore.

"Because both of you were miserable. Because I felt like he deserved to know Chelsea. Because I felt like an impostor and a bad person for knowing his daughter and spending time with her when he didn't even know she existed." he explained low and slowly. "Because deep down, I'm sure you wanted him to know."

I remained silent and avoided his eyes again. All I could do was stare at the door in hope to see Niall walk back inside. Did I want Niall to know?

"It was not my place, or my choice to make, and I'm sorry." he added. "It was none of my business and I normally don't do that. I was wrong. But I can't say I regret it."

He was right, I knew he was, but admitting that was admitting I had failed. It was admitting that I was wrong and that I deprived Niall from so many memories and time with his daughter. I brought my hand to my mouth and did my best not to start sobbing.

"I'm not mad at you, Louis." I whispered, scared that i would start crying again if i talked louder. "I just hope he can forgive me one day."

"I hope he can forgive me too."

We remained silent for a while and Louis left for about a minute, bringing me back a full glass of wine that I swallowed a bit too quickly. It felt like we waited forever but I think my heart stopped completely when the door opened again. I held my breath, feeling my heart jump once against at Niall sight, and waited until he was back in front of me, He waited until Louis had left, without even sending him a glance.

His face was impassive and I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. His simple presence made my heartbeats accelerate and if you mixed that with the guilt I felt, it was even worse. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate or pass out.

"I want to see her. I want to spend time with her. I want her to know who I am." he just let out. "And you don't have the right to refuse. Not after what you did to me."

I waited a few seconds after he was done talking and nodded gently, still staring at him.

"Of course you can see her and tell her who you are, Niall." I expressed, feeling on the verge of tears again. "I'm never gonna stop you from seeing her. You're her father, and you'll always be."

[lahallucinations]

when the dust settles

Pairing: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles

Summary:he wants to meet up no no no no no no i think he misses you

or, breaking up sucks, and losing your best friend at the same time is even worse

Warnings: Implied Alcohol Abuse

W/C:6835

Read on ao3: x

Louis was in the middle of contemplating whether he had enough time to sneak in a cigarette before they started filming when he got the text.

It was from Natalia, his talent manager turned best friend and it was exactly as professional as her, “sos babe i tried to stop it from happening but simon was... himself” Louis sighed. He definitely needed a cigarette break, one that was away from the crowd and preferably never-ending. It was all Simon’s fault. Simon had this way of getting Louis to agree to things that he never would consider or want. At first, it was mostly out of gratefulness and a little bit of fear that Louis or the one of the other boys would agree to whatever idea Simon proposed. It had sold, so perhaps Louis should have been appreciative but he wished he had fought harder on coordinating outfits and in the later years, the amount of work they did. Things would be different now, if he had. They might not have hit their peaks but perhaps they wouldn’t have hit their lows either.

Even now, Louis didn’t know exactly how he let Simon rope him into these projects. The convincing, or well, the schmoozing had started a few months ago, when Simon had visited him in the studio. He had listened to the demos with pursed lips and a poker face giving nothing away. The minutes right after Louis would play Simon something, he’d get transported to primary school, back to a child that was looking to a teacher, hoping for a pat on the back. It was weak. The low hum that Simon made after Louis showed him the first demo took him exactly back to his first audition. The seconds after he had sung, each felt like a century. He had barely been able to breathe, awaiting the response that would potentially change his life. The response had been good, things had worked out. Nobody is lucky twice. Simon talked around it. Despite calling himself a straight shooter, Simon didn’t tell him the songs were shit, or that they wouldn’t sell or that perhaps going solo may not work out. He was nice. If Louis had learned anything in his years working with Simon was that a nice Simon was worse than a mean one. A mean one respected you as an artist and wanted you to improve, a nice one pitied you. A week later, he had taken Louis out to a club, they’d drank martinis and had caviar tacos and Louis had felt the whole night feeling strange about the future. The album was on hold, Harry was on the goddamn radio again and his sisters didn’t need him to be the big brother anymore. He din’t even want to think about being a disappointing father on top of that. Louis didn’t know how Simon could tell what he was feeling but at the end of the night it was a simple question, “Wanna do X-factor?” It was some combination of booze and the tracks lying on the cutting board that Louis said yes. He read over Natalia’s text again and grimaced. He grabbed a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it. He wasn’t supposed to spoke inside his dressing room but this counted as special circumstances. Louis had been good, expert even, at avoiding Harry. Both in their lives and in their professions. He had been asked about Harry’s music in an interview and the lie had come easy to him, “Yeah we’re friends. I think people will love the album.” He couldn’t imagine listening to it. He couldn’t imagine talking to him. He didn’t want to imagine seeing him. He took another drag of the cigarette. Someone knocked on the door. That was his five minute signal. This time next week, he’d be here. He shot a reply to Natalia, “make sure he gets his own dressing room. far away from mine.”

^^ The worst part about all this was, Simon was right. He enjoyed being on the show. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled this much during the day and then went home inspired to create more. The people on the show reminded him why he wanted to do this in the first place. He wanted to sing, he used to sing to his sisters when they were upset, getting to see their tears turn into laughter is what drove him to the auditions and even if he hadn’t gone through, he would still be making music, he firmly believed that. Watching smiles appear on the faces of the singers after hitting their high note made Louis happy. Louis knew the feeling of being on stage and impressing the crowd all too well.  He’d belt out a note and for a moment after, a silence would rush over the audience, they’d be processing what happened, Louis would take a breath in that second and then accept the uproarious cheering he was showered with. Music had purpose again. The disappointed faces of his audience didn’t run through his head while he wrote anymore. Their expectations felt manageable, not as heavy as they had been at the start. Everything he had been making felt like a recreation. It was like taking a blossomed flower  and turning it back to a bud. They were buds before, never quite at bloom but growing. Louis didn’t remember how to do that anymore, maybe he never knew how to do this alone. He’d always connected to the other boys through the music. The feeling was a rare one, akin to a sunny day after weeks of London showers. It would be him and Liam mostly, the others boys preferring to write alone, or with other people. Those sessions made everything worth it. The long hours, the lack of privacy, the haze of partying and intensity that surrounded them in those years, the sessions that were about music made it all work. He sometimes thought if he and Harry had jammed more, they might have ended differently. His mum had always told him that he couldn’t fix everything, but Louis always admired the way she held everyone together. He should have been the glue, he should have made his mum proud. The only memory Louis has of Harry writing with him, is one he can’t place, it was a late night, the rain was loud and imposing outside. Harry had returned from a party a little damp and laughing at every little thing. He had come over and took a spot next to Louis on the ground. He was close, closer than he was in public, closer they were supposed to be. His hand had lingered in the space above Louis but it didn’t sadden him. He had looked at Louis with this look. The look felt like a promise. A promise of a place without lingers, a promise of future where they could be. Louis let out a laugh now, chiding his own naivety. Liam had started strumming as Harry sang. It was gibberish at first, Harry putting together random words in succession to see what stuck. He somehow made that sound beautiful too. Soon though, Louis started paying attention again and it was soft, Harry sang as they recorded it on their phones, Louis joined in with harmonies a verse in. It was perfect, like everything Harry touched. Louis wondered if he’d ever be able to listen to that song again. ^^ Louis’ body was betraying him. His hands kept shaking, his stomach was weak and Louis almost wished he got ill so he could not have to do this today but he put that thought behind him. Professional and Pleasant. That’s the mantra that Louis had to exist by. It’s what Natalia had told him was the best course of action. She used the phrase often repeating it to herself to get through tough negotiations and dealing with the sexist asshats that dominated their industry. His stomach flipped again. Professional. Pleasant. He wanted to throw up. Louis went to grab a cigarette but found his pockets empty. He swore under his breath as he tried to find a solution. He opened the door to his dressing room and found a PA running with a box of La Croix that was probably for the crew. Louis flagged the PA down, the man was dripping with sweat and he gave Louis a tight smile. “After doing this, you mind getting me a drink too?” Louis acted friendlier than he had to, giving the man a wide smile at the end of the question. He couldn’t afford to be low energy, he had learned the hard way that his low-energy was someone else’s rude. “You want a La Croix too?” the man was disinterested, Louis could tell. “Nah, mate, I want a real one. Listen, I’ll give you the money, just get me something strong,” Louis grabbed his wallet and got out the cash. “Uh...” the PA froze. The man looked scared out of his wits. Louis sighed. The team around here still treated him like he was an eighteen year kid, chasing after every illicit thrill he could find. A moment later the PA said, “I don’t drink so... uh... if you told me what you wanted.” Louis sighed. The universe had a plan to ruin his day didn’t it. “Let’s go with a bottle of gin.” Louis came back to the dressing room and sunk into the couch, letting music from his headphones flood over him. He tried not to let his mind wander not to the changes he still had to make to his music, not to the fact that it had been almost two weeks since he’d last talked to Liam, not to dinner tonight and especially not to the other side of the building where in a near identical dressing room, he’d be there. Existing. Happy. Alone. ^^ An hour and a half a bottle of gin later, Louis finally felt okay. He knew his body well enough to drink enough to control his spiral but not enough to be considered too drunk for judging. He could very easily pass as sober and happy. Good ol’ friendly Louis. He popped in a mint to cover up the smell. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out his thoughts. His thoughts put up a difficult fight however, everything from his songs to dinner made his head hurt. He gave up the rest and checked his phone instead. Reminders filled the notifications of his phone. Call Liam. Don’t freak out. Don’t get drunk!!!!! He chuckled at the last one, at least he wasn’t wasted. He was doing fine. He shut his eyes again, one last attempt at a nap before his call time. <creak> Louis looked over to the whining door and his memories came alive. "Hey, I... uh... wanted to come over and say-" Louis blinked slow, twice, not quite ready to trust his eyes. Maybe the alcohol had gotten to him, maybe this was a dream. But no, Harry continued speaking and Louis tried to stare at the brick wall behind him. Tried. Harry's eyes were hard to compete against. -catch up." Harry looked over at Louis raising his eyebrows. Louis stood up, Harry moved forward with his arms wide, for what looked to be a hug and Louis stumbled backwards. Harry looked sheepish, and put his arms back to his side. They were both quiet for a moment, taking each other in. Louis could smell the faint whiff of Harry's cologne mixed with his hairspray, he wanted to envelop himself in that but he stabilized himself on the armrest of the couch instead. Louis felt Harry’s gaze following him. He was always like that watching not like a hawk, but a resting lion, preferring to know everything. It had always been that way, where Louis was impulsive, saying the first thing that came to his mind and Harry was the opposite. He’d observe, think and then act. Even during the X-factor days, he’d sit in a corner observing the competition, taking his time to process before deciding, how they’d tackle the week. It felt intrusive. Louis finally broke the silence,"What do you want?" Harry smiled wide. Louis couldn't think of a more assholeish move. "I wanted to catch up," his eyes were practically twinkling as if he had walked straight out of a disney movie. "I'm busy," Louis repeated the mantra in his head. "Doing what?" "Not being here," Louis started to walk past Harry to the door to leave but after a few steps, he felt an hand on his arm. His heart stopped for a second. It felt wrong. Louis shook it off. "One conversation, we can at least manage that can't we? Nothing personal, just show stuff." Louis rolled his eyes. The snark came out without intention, "Didn't know you cared so much about X factor?" “No one cares as much as you do though, that's why you're drunk right now ain’t it?” Harry shot back. Louis had to smile, it’d been too long since he heard that biting tone, one that Louis knew he had instilled in Harry. He was too polite otherwise, it was a bore. Louis shrugged. “I thought you were doing better,” he spoke slow, as if he was talking t0 a nervous fan, not wanting to spook them. Louis didn’t respond. Harry didn’t push. Harry nodded leading Louis to the couch. He looked more tense now, holding his hand together in front of him, "The producers want is to do a duet together,” he said, slow and calculating. Louis almost laughed at the intensity of Harry’s voice. He didn't know what he had expected but this was downright trivial, compared to the seriousness of Harry’s tone. Louis felt a sliver of guilt, for being a dick about it. Though, not enough to apologize "Sure, it'll make the people happy won't it, you can pick the song, just tell Natalia before the show okay, can't have me forgetting the lyrics. Doing it without rehearsal might be better, more natural?” Louis was aware of his ramble and he didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, his desire to be alone or his fear of what would happen if he wasn’t. Harry looked a little bit like a kicked puppy. He seemed resigned to the situation. He finally said, “You want to hang out, after the show?” “Sure,” Louis states, getting up and and nudging Harry to the door. Harry left and Louis’ phone buzzed. Natalia had sent a text, it read “we still going out tonight?” “ofc. i’ll see u right after the show, its gonna be litt” ^^ Louis’ appreciation for EDM grew by the second. He knew why it annoyed people, the stereotype of the DJ pressing a button at a live concert was one he too had joked about. Tonight however, Louis could kiss the DJ, the rhythmic beats permeating the crowd, every beat drop acted as an adrenaline rush to the crowd. They were at the fingertips of the DJ and Louis was right along with them. He saw Natalia across the dance floor, at the bar, doing shots with a guy who’d been chatting her up. That was her escape, this was his. The club was popular, but not snobbish and each person looking for salvation in the music. The music let them breathe, saved the drowning souls who’d otherwise end up alone. Louis danced letting the music take him over.

He felt eyes on him, he met them, they were electric blue, one’s Louis could get lost in. He had dark hair that tempted him to run his hands through, he was the type of beautiful you could lose yourself in. The guy bit the inside of his lip and looked him up and down. It was a look Louis had often seen, it said everything. Louis took him in. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt that left little to the imagination. The guy moved closer, leaned over and whispered, “Hi.” His voice sounded smooth, as if it was music itself. Louis took in a quick breath. He usually wouldn’t do this, not in public, not with a guy and certainly with a stranger but he still had a long day and the meeting with Harry had him missing the gentle bliss of waking up next to a warm body in bed. Louis smiled and let the guy grab his hand and move in closer. The guy leaned over and his lips brushed against Louis’ cheek. The guy raised his brow and his eyes shifted to the door. Louis got the message loud and clear and he grabbed his hand to lead him out to the street from a side entrance. Walking out of the club, away from the neon lights the guy said his name, “Jamie.” “Hi Jamie,” Louis whispered, staring at the beautiful man in front of him. he must have been staring for too long at his lips because the next thing he knew he felt soft lips on his own. He was caught off-guard but it felt good. To touch, to be touched was a treasure. Louis could smell the fruity smell of his shampoo as he ran his fingers through his hair. He pulled back a second later and smiled. His eyes moved down for a second and Louis’ jaw dropped. Four words. It was four words that could destroy him. He needed to find Natalia. Fuck. This boy was looking at him with wide eyes, as if he’d given him the world, and maybe he thought Louis had. “Fuck,” Louis exclaimed at the world. Jamie caught on quick. “I swear I won’t say anything, I really admire your music-” Louis couldn’t meet his eyes. His eyes did not leave the white, too tight T-shirt the boy was wearing. ‘Treat people with kindness’ it mocked. This was the fucking kindness Harry fucking Styles had brought to his life. Louis grabbed the boy by the neck of his shirt and let his panic take over, “You ever so much as breathe about this-”. “I won’t, I swear, Louis I really like you.” Fuck. What was Louis doing? He should’ve been smarter. This was weak. Simon could never find out. The boy at least looked scared out of his wits though the allure of money could make anyone talk. “How old are you?” Louis asked, letting go of the boy’s shirt. His eyes dropped and he was biting his lip, as if he was holding back tears. “Twenty,” he could barely say it. Louis rubbed his temple. This was a kid. What the fuck was he doing? “Wait here,” Louis told the kid, going back into the club. He knew the kid could take off, but Louis trusted that he wouldn’t. He found Natalia where he had left her, still at the bar, laughing along with a guy that looked like a model. Louis signalled to her that he wanted to talk and a few minutes later, the stood outside the washrooms, the only place, where they could possibly hear each other in a conversation. Louis explained the situation to her and watched her face go from curiosity to shock to terror and then annoyance and finally resignation. She pursed her lips and Louis could picture the pencil behind her ear, one that would show up whenever she was in planning mode. She paced around a little and then said, “Right, the kid is getting VIP tickets, merch or whatever the fuck kids like these days.” “He won’t say anything,” Louis said. She gave him a look that told him to shut up. “You go hang out at the bar, flirt with a girl, leave with her through the front, There’s always paps around this place so be spotted together, if not just fucking put up a photo with her on Instagram. Create a narrative, okay, I’m gonna go take care of the kid,” Natalia was already on her phone, figuring out the bribe, or the “gifts” as she’d say. “I’m sorry,” Louis said. She shrugged and simply said, “Take care of yourself tonight.” ^^ Louis woke up to his phone buzzing. He wanted to throw it against the wall. He was hungover, the past day had caught up to him and his body hurt all over. He checked his phone and saw a string of messages from Natalia. “the kid signed an NDA, thankfully no one saw. i’m so fucking hungover. i’m taking the morning off.” Louis laughed, she deserved it. He thought that’d be all she’d say but another message followed. “i got a message from Ronnie, harry’s manager? apparently you agreed to meet harry to discuss a collab, lmk if you want me to set it up, i’ll do it after my nap.” Louis knew he’d technically agreed to hang out but he hoped his absence yesterday had sent a clear message.

Yesterday may have been petty, but the sentiment was real. “no no no no no no no, ugh why can’t he leave me alone,” Louis texted back. He receives back a heart emoji, followed by a simple, “i think he misses you”. Louis groaned. He was too hungover for this. In a few hours, he’d be too sober for this, and after a few hours after, too drunk. He crawled out of bed, racking his brain to remember if he had anything that might be constituted a breakfast food in his fridge. He at least knows he has some fruits he could put in a smoothie. His fridge is sparse, nothing pops out, that he’d like to eat. He checks the freezer and finds a box of frozen waffles and sighed. At least the sugar would improve his mood. He pops two in the toaster and soon a sweet smell fills his kitchen. It reminds him of something it shouldn’t. A different apartment, a different year, the same delicious smell in his kitchen as Louis tried to mix pancake batter while Harry kept tickling him. They giggled into each other until Louis retaliated by grabbing some all- purpose flour and applying it to Harry’s face. He could still remember his curls tinted white, while Louis laughed. Harry grabbed the wooden spoon and out of Louis’ hand and splashed some batter on Louis. They had ended up a laughing mess. Louis could only hear the remnants of their joined laughter. Noise that he should’ve treasured. Looking around now, he realized how sparse and hollow his kitchen was. He hadn’t even put up a fridge magnet. The waffle was too hard, but Louis appreciated the maple syrup. They had fed each other pancakes, after remaking the batter. It was cheesy but Louis had loved Harry liked that. Smiling, joking and trying to convince Louis that his favourite pancake topping was marmite. He didn’t know that in the future he’d treasure the presence of Harry’s dimples in his life. That even when they were together, Harry would scowl more, have worry lines on his forehead and never let go enough, for his dimples to make a presence. Louis added strawberries to the second waffle. It was a blissful morning. Even as Louis thought about it, he knew that was an exaggeration. Lies and exaggeration, both stitched by the same thread. The morning was bliss, bliss until Harry suddenly pulled away from Louis’ kiss. “I think I saw a camera flash,” Harry’s voice was high, from panic. “Fuck them,” Louis response was automatic, rolling his eyes at the press trying to get some fodder for their “paper”. He saw Harry’s brow furrow. “I think i’m gonna go,” he admitted. The words punched him in the gut. “I thought we were spending the day together?” It was childish the way he’d asked, his voice almost breaking as he choked out the question. It had been a too long since they hadn’t gotten a day together, one in their own bed, after the craziness of tour, alone, with nothing to do but to be with each other. Harry had shifted nervously, and promised to call him before leaving. Louis had smashed the empty plate onto the ground and then cut himself picking up the pieces. Louis traced over his finger now, where there was a very faint scar, reminding him of why everything went to shit. It was upsetting, in a way, that Louis wanted to smile recalling the story, that little details came to him despite the distance. Harry used to hum while he cooked, he’d call him anything under the sun, from sweetheart to honey to sugar, he’d whisper “thank you” after Louis would kiss him and Louis would know that this was meant to be. The tears started before Louis could stop them. He wanted to smash a plate. ^^ The coffee shop was very... Harry. The decor was minimal, the counters marble and the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans permeated the air. A soft, indie song was playing in the background. Harry would’ve teased him for calling it indie, go on a tangent about how that word means basically nothing because any song not strictly pop was labeled as indie. Louis would’ve laughed then, he was sure.   Louis perused the menu, there were some photos of the drinks, all with latte art and a few with gold flakes that based on the price Louis knew must be real gold. It wasn’t a surprise that Harry chose this place, he always did appreciate decadence. I In other words, this place was pretentious. The people around him were all dressed to the tens. Louis shuffled in his seat, he had sat in the corner so he wouldn’t be spotted, but the walls were mostly glass making anonymity difficult. He felt out of place in his Adidas tracksuit. Despite his fame and affluence there was something about this place that made him uncomfortable. Louis could feel eyes on him, but these weren’t the wondering eyes of people who’d nudge to their friends trying to confirm whether they had spotted a celebrity in the wild or just stared at a regular guy for ten minutes. An older woman sitting at a table near him huffed. Louis knew it was directed at him, because he looked like he belonged in a club, not in a place that had the pace of an old age home. Louis checked the time again. Harry was late. Maybe the universe was testing Louis, how long would he wait for him before he left? How much did he care? He decided to scroll through Instagram while waiting. His hands shook while he scrolled, his body giving away the knots that were forming in his stomach. The cafe door opened and Louis looked up. He took in a sharp breath. He noticed the white shirt before anything else, it was tight, a grey coat hanging off his body. He looked comfortable, a little bit more relaxed than when they saw each other on set. They caught eyes and Harry made his way to the table. “Sorry, did I make you wait? You should have ordered,” Harry rushed out, mumbling through some of the sentence. “I didn’t know what you wanted.” Louis responded. It was colder than he anticipated, he smiled to make up for it. “Uh.. I can go order, and let me cover it, for being late. They have a really good green tea here. And for you?” Louis kept himself composed. Of course he wanted to pay, that’s what the did with girls too, flash his money to make the other person feel special. Or smaller. He wanted to remind Harry that he had money too, he could buy the bistro if they were comparing wallets. That was unfair, his sister often told him about love languages and how buying things might be hers, Louis knew it was because she wanted some more pocket money to spend on her friends but it must have stuck, because he didn’t snap at Harry. “Espresso is good,” Louis said, it felt odd, conversing about something so normal. They weren’t talking about love, the band or anything bigger than a cup of coffee. Harry raised his brow, “Um.. you don’t want milk or sugar?” “I take it black now,” Louis responded. It felt like a confession. Louis browsed as Harry ordered, the outside world taken over by the golden glow of a sunset. He was reminded of a few years ago, on a tour bus. He wouldn’t be able to name the tour they were on, the city, or even the country they were going through but he remembered Harry, fallen asleep leaning on the window, his curls almost covering his face. He was skinnier then, smaller too and the golden light on Harry made Louis’s heart skip a beat. Harry carried Louis’ drink a minute later, he was followed by a barista carrying Harry’s tea. It smelled like a freshly mowed lawn. The barista also carried a plate that had a slice of chocolate cake on it. “Thought you’d like it,” Harry said, “unless you don’t like chocolate anymore.” Louis doesn’t know what he means by that, whether its a jab or a regular statement. He ignores it. “So, Ronnie mentioned something about you working on a new album, how’s that going?” Louis had a strategy, keep it polite, keep it professional, don’t notice the was Harry’s curls drop in front of his face and definitely resist the urge to tuck it behind his ear. Harry fixed his curls as he talked, “It’s going really well. Yours? Will I be hearing it soon?” Louis tightens his grip on the small cup he’s holding, “Uhh... eventually.” “I liked the singles by the way, I’m sure your album will be brilliant. And from someone who’s done it solo, don’t chase perfection, okay? There were some songs I really doubted but they ended up being people’s favourite,” Harry smiled as he spoke. Smiled as if he was unaware of the weight of every word he said piercing Louis’ heart. It had been two years. Harry wrote an album. He established himself as an artist, respected even outside their core audience. Louis... didn’t move on. Their breakup hadn’t been like the snap of a twig, it was more akin to a fallen leaf decaying away. Harry had rested in the soil and sprouted again, Louis had floated away. “I didn’t hear your album.” The words should have left a residue of awkwardness at the table but Harry laughed. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, I swear. Anyway on the new album, you should do a duet with me.” Louis gasped, “What? “You have to admit it, there was a spark,” Harry spoke with surety and conviction.   “You’re imagining things,” Louis kept a straight face, hoping his face wasn’t betraying him. He made eye contact with Harry to sell the lie, but it didn’t work. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? I know you,” Harry raises his voice, disbelieving,“Oh my god I saw that bloody look on your face.” Louis bit the inside of lip, “What look?” “The one where you make the other person feel like they’re lucky to be near you, like they’re part of some secret club. I know that look. And I know you-” “-You knew me. Harry, look you wanted a meeting, I gave you that, I even came all the way too this posh ass coffee place so just tell me what on earth do you want from me? Harry still felt foreign on his tongue, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said his name out loud, let alone to his face.   They were quiet for a moment. Louis noticed the song playing in the background, it was classical, something he’d never hear. “Call me Haz,” it was casual the way Harry say to a reporter who he was trying to make a good impression on. Louis didn’t know whether that ever worked but Harry’s eyes were almost pleading. “Haz, I don’t think I have anything left to give you.” the words were almost easy to say, perhaps because it had been years, years spent practicing, endless days spent repeating the same conversation in his head. In all the scenarios he imagined this reunion, he’d been smiling. He’d be smiling ,drawn in by the charm dripping of off Harry’s lips or the familiarity of his drawl as he spoke. Louis would chide himself after for letting a drink or two relive memories that he’d rather not remember. He was always smiling, and Harry was too and suddenly he was back to being the naive, eighteen year old who’d think only of the now and kiss Haz. “Lou, please tell me I’m not delusional. That we have,” he seemed to be editing himself as he spoke, “we had something real, we could do that again.” Louis remained silent. Harry continued, “We can be friends, if you’d rather I promise I’ll respect your boundaries. All i want is you in my life, however much you want.” The silence that followed was deafening. It was after that long silence that Louis stated, “We weren’t good for each other.” “You only remember the bad parts,” Harry said raising his brow. Harry was always the optimist and he seemed to be reminding Louis of that. “You only remember the good bits, do you really think we can just be friends?” There was an edge to his voice, a bitterness that came out during the question. Louis used to hate that, but it was honest. He wasn’t pretending that they had a future. “Yeah, I want to make music with you, go on tour again, isn’t that something you want?” Harry asked. “And you’ll be okay with just that?” Louis doubted everything coming out of Harry’s mouth. He knew him too well, to not know when Harry regret this later. He nodded, “I would respect what you wanted.” Louis wanted to scoff. “Harry who are you kidding? The rumours would be everywhere, rumours you hated. And look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t want us to be back together every time we were in the same fucking room,” Louis raised his voice now, getting passionate   “Look X-factor is great for you, but you’re better than that, you’re so fucking good. Why don’t you embrace that?” “This is not about my career.” “What’s it about then?” “Let’s say I say yes, I open for you, or we make an album together, we go on tour together and you see me with someone else, then what?” “I know you hook up with women.” “Let’s say its a guy,” “I’d handle it.”

“Would you? Or would you be hurt over not being with me? Because I’d be hurt if the tables were turned.” “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “You still love me, it’d kill you to see me with someone else, I know you’re carrying a torch for me because I’m carrying one for you too.” “We could be together then, do it in secret but not have that pressure that we did. Be free for once, can’t we be happy?” It was a plea, the way Harry said. Teary eyes and voice breaking, his heart was breaking. “You can’t make blue and red out of purple, love. We can’t go back.” They sat there for a long time, in silence. Louis didn’t know whether he had any tears left in him, though he felt the urge to bawl. Harry looked about the same. The barista came over and asked if they wanted something else. Louis ordered another piece of cake, he hoped it was delicious enough to bury some of their sadness. It was awkward. It was awkward and weird and Louis felt sweat go down on the back of his neck. The class clown in him wanted to crack a joke, tease Harry about the dwindling quality of his tattoos, to say something. He swallowed. “How’s your mum doing?” he asked. “You’re changing the topic, just like that?” “I still care about you,” Louis smiled, “I’ve never stopped.” Harry turns his head, looking away for a second , “You fuckin- do you hear yourself? What the hell have you become? You were always the one fighting, fighting for the rest of us to have control, to fucking do what we’re good at, create shit we were proud of and now what? You’re not proud of me anymore?” Louis clutched the fork tighter. Through gritted teeth he said, “The world out there are vultures, ready to attack. Do I think about being with you? Every goddamn day, but you know we can’t do this, we can’t be some joke that everyone points at, I want you to be more, go be a fucking legend.” “Don’t give me that bullshit, you’re a coward, every single time I’ve performed I’ve been up there posing with the flag, and in those moments all I’m thinking about is how much I want you there next to me, don’t you dare tell me we can’t have it all, our happiness is not conditional,” Harry declared. He was angry, passionate and looked like he wanted to strangle Louis. Louis paused, running his hands through his hair, looking up to see expectant eyes, “You’re going to do great things, Haz. With or without me,” he looked down to the floor, which felt too clean for a coffee shop. “With, it’s not a question, it’ll always be with you. I’m ready to face whoever the fuck comes between us, I’ll quit being in the public eye, work in a bakery in the middle of nowhere, if it meant that we were still together,” he rambled, clearly frustrated. Louis hated being frustrating, but Harry was trying to save him, withhout wearing his own oxygen mask.

“There you go again, giving up parts of yourself for me, I want you to have the life you dreamed of as a kid, I want you to travel the world, make music, act, be wild, be the success story you were meant to be. You don’t need me holding you back, love.” Louis smiled, it was unconvincing but necessary. Harry pulled back, “Are you happy, Louis?” Louis blinked in surprise. “You tell me you’re happy and I’ll back off. I’ll be professional, won’t even be an acquaintance, I’ll be the perfect ex if you tell me that you’re happy.” “I’m hap-” Louis started, then paused. Was he happy? He was doing alright. He was struggling, sure but who doesn’t sometimes? He wasn’t depressed, he had seen friends go though that he didn’t lock himself in his room everyday. He was on the telly for goodness sake, he was doing fine. Was he happy? He liked his music, he liked his sisters and he was happy that he had friends in his life. Was he happy? Harry raised a brow, challenging Louis. “Why the fuck does it matter?” Louis demanded.

“It matters because I care, and you should too.”

“Haz, you’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“Look, you don’t want me caring about you, fine, but at least care about yourself, you were happy back then and now,” Harry paused and his silence gave everything away.

Louis scoffed. And then he coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like tears.

“Fucking hell, you’re actually concerned aren’t you,” Louis said in a disbelieving tone.

Harry reached out, left his hand on the table and ran his thumb up and down his index finger. It was a gesture Louis knew too well, their way of comfort in public, were even without touch the other could feel held.

Louis smiled at its familiarity.

He had to face the music.

“I don’t think I’ve been happy since,” Louis admitted, “I don’t know if you’ll make me happy, it was shit before, apart from us, but right now I don’t know if I can handle that,” his breathing gets heavier, “it was so much work.”

Louis could tell he was on the brink of tears. He felt a hand on his knee, underneath the table. They didn’t do that before; at least not when they were alone and in public. He must have longed for it once, now it just hurt.

“Louis, do you want to be happy?” Harry asked.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Louis rolled his eyes at the question.

“Then that’s enough.”

“We’re not getting back together, I can’t promise that we ever will get back together, you should probably move on,” Louis stated.

“That’s okay, you should focus on getting better, sorting out your head, see a therapist maybe, and I want to be a friend, to help you through that.”

It’s painful to hear.

It feels like pity.

He looks at Harry, whose eyes are wide and teary and he knows its concern, not pity.

“Thank you, Haz, for everything,” Louis said in a soft voice.

p, li { white-space: pre-wrap; }

[thebuffalohuman-blog]

Unpacking Childhood Trauma. *trigger warning. rape*

Well, it’s been 5 blog posts now since I ditched the “chronological” version of talking about my trip to Portland. I don’t know if it matters if I finish it exactly as planned. Who needs to know EXACTLY how things are going to work out, anyway? It’s all a huge journey.

Two days ago, I finally got deep enough into my experience to unlock a certain childhood trauma that has been one of my most long-standing challenges. Now that I’m absolutely 100% okay with it and admitting it to myself, I can admit it to other people.

For those of you who don’t know, I was essentially emotionally and psychically raped for a good portion of my formative years. Now, before I go into detail about the circumstances, I just want to make it clear that I don’t blame anyone for their roles in how this all happened... it’s all due to lack of understanding in their part. There is no space for anger or blame in me for how this all worked out. It is 100% my responsibility to deal with the fallout and how I have become as a result of it.

Let’s start where it all began, the Doctor’s office. When I was having difficulty staying still in class, causing disruptions (such as build a paper fort out of my desk and throwing paper balls at people when the teacher was teaching), my 4th grade teacher suggested to my mother that I get medicated for ADHD... since that was the common thing to do in year 2000... Therapists obviously didn’t exist and word of mouth from a fourth grade teacher and my mother, an Emergency Room nurse was enough to bypass the psychological exam or even a suggestion of asking another party for help and head straight to the medications. I was 7.

We went to this one N.P. who was a known “ADHD specialist” and she told me about how the Dopamine and Serotonin in my brain was all off and that I needed medications so I could make friends and be happy and do good in school. She prescribed me Ritalin... which became the first of about 6 or 7 drugs that I was on from age 7 until I finally kicked pharma when I was 22. So, now there was both a medical doctor, my mother and my teacher telling me that I was somehow “broken” and needed help. Over the next 15 years, not once did I ever receive a psychological examination from a qualified therapist or psychologist. I ended up on a high dose of Concerta (long acting methylphenidate... street legal speed), Ritalin (quicker acting, harder hitting, street legal speed), Strattera (a relatively benign Selective Norephinephrene Re-Uptake Inhibitor that balanced out my depression slightly that my doctor had coined, “The light at the end of the tunnel”... but the kicker was when I was prescribed Apiprazole, aka Abilify, a potent anti-psychotic used for a diagnosis of Obsessive FUCKING Compulsive Disorder because of my DISORGANIZED COLLECTION OF WILD HARVESTED HERBS.

Back story time... At this age, I had a decent collection of locally harvested herbs, flowers, leaves, bark, etc... mostly labelled (all identifiable by my eye) on two shelves in my basement. This “disorganization” was apparently grounds to label me as an obsessive compulsive hoarder at age 11, hence the powerful antipsychotic medication prescription for the next ten years... needless to say, I didn’t collect herbs too much after that. One day my mother threw them all away without asking me.

If you ask me what I’d have done in the situation, I would have helped my child pursue his or her own interests by hooking them up with a herbalist or someone who does that kind of thing the child is interested in... but I don’t get to make that kind of choice. I didn’t get to make any choices because I wasn’t 18 and my mother thought she knew better what I needed and AS A CHILD, I BELIEVED HER.

It took me until a few years ago to realize that the anger that I’ve held inside for so long wasn’t at her for all of that... It was at myself for all those years of letting someone else tell me what was good for me and what I wanted.

I was a child. Even if I had other opinions, why would I believe myself when all these capable, functioning adults told me I was wrong?

I was reading in Maya Angelou’s book, “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings” about how she blamed herself for the death of the man who raped her. When she traveled to St Louis to her biological mother’s place from her mother’s husband, Mr Freeman raped her and then held her like she would be safe from anything that could threaten her. Next, he said he would kill her brother if she ever told anyone about it. She then talks about how, after he raped her again, eventually her family found out and Mr. Freeman was put on trial. During the interrogation, she was asked if he had touched her before the one reported rape incident and she lied and said “no”. Her “lie” resulted in his sentence being substantially less, his lawyer got him out that very day. That night, he was killed and his body left in the slaughterhouse lot.

Maya blamed herself, her one lie for the death of the man who she somehow loved. She closed her mouth for years after that, never uttering a word, for she blamed herself for the his death. Only after she realized that, by sharing her story, was she able to connect to the greater human experience... all the deep emotions we all feel and to find the liberation that self-love brings.

So, I guess that’s why I’m sharing. Thanks, Marguerite Angelou. Thanks for telling your story. Here’s mine. I don’t blame anyone for how it happened. It is not my fault, not another’s fault... merely how it happened...

Now, the part that I only figured out recently about this... I realized why I was being disruptive and hyper in the first place.

Because my first crush, “Nicole” had completely ignored me when I wrote her a letter, asking her if she wanted to be my friend. I was a precocious little brat... and honestly, I had very little rapport with my mother, a notoriously bad advice giver who would often suggesting relationship sabotage or manipulative behaviors. I had no real “friends” to talk about this problem with... so when one thing led to another, I acted out and that’s how I ended up medicated and thus OBEYING WHAT MY FAMILY WAS TELLING ME ABOUT MYSELF. THAT I WAS BROKEN. THAT I NEEDED HELP. THAT I WASN’T WORTH INVESTING ANY REAL EFFORT INTO. THAT I WAS A BURDEN and THAT I SHOULD SHUT UP AND TAKE WHAT THEY WERE GIVING ME. They couldn’t control me without medications, so they hit me where it hurts and got me started on a violence cycle towards myself of self-deprecation, isolation and drug-addiction that it would take me years to resolve.

Now, it’s the times, really that caused this. This idea that it’s acceptable to medicate a child PERMANENTLY is terribly detrimental to our society as a whole. Not only to most of these medications cause severe side effects, both long and short term but it’s literally drugging and raping an entire generation to do as they are told and to not question the way of things. Fucking traumatic generational bullshit that is COMPLETELY normalized. In the Early days, Shamans didn’t look at people as having “mental illness” as a disorder that is characterized and labeled... People were an infinite spectrum of personalities, all with their own individual wants, needs and path that must be respected and honored so that the person can grow as a whole. Medicine focused on the WHOLE PERSON, not just a specific character trait that the doctor deems as “non-beneficial”. We have moved so far from our center as a human species.

Now, I’m learning to love myself more... to be less violent in thought and action towards myself... to accept when I don’t know what to do to fix something... to channel my anger appropriately (into art, craftsmanship, poetry, music) and to love people, despite their flaws or lack of “knowledge”. I have a deep well of compassion for humans in all walks of life. I have better boundaries now and know where my emotions and desires end and another person’s begin. I am strong and I will be respect from here on out as a survivor of childhood trauma.

To you, Mom... I love you anyways.

[unofficialxstyles]

Hi! Here’s another character tag from the lovely @thatoddpanda​ Thank you so, so much for tagging Robin (I missed her!)

rules : choose a couple of fave photos/gifs of your character. the character can be an oc, the main boy, a side character or basically any character. copy and paste the questions down below. answer as if you’re the character that’s been tagged. then tag some of your fave characters/authors to answer next. (you’re also allowed to tag an author again if they have more than one character you want to answer these questions)

tagging: Niall (Under My Skin, @booksncoffee) & Joelle (Slow Burn, @allywrites

1. What is your MBTI?

I’m an ISFJ. They made us take this test in university when we were learning about child development I think. Afterwards, my professor shared some of the insights and yeah..maybe I am too much of a perfectionist and procrastinator.

2. What is your star sign? Do you think it suits your personality? I’m a Virgo and I suppose it fits a little? Aside from the fact that , Virgos like healthy food? I don’t think...I could give up fries.

3. Name one person in your life, you think you can tell anything to. What makes them special? Liam because he gives really good advice. People might think he’s mostly playing around and doesn’t take things seriously but at the heart of it, he knows how to make the most complex of problems seem simple enough to solve. 

4. Do you have a life goal? Something you can sell your soul for? If so, are those plans likely to succeed? I really don’t want to sound cheesy but I want to make a difference in young child’s life. It’s not an overnight thing or a year long goal...more like a commitment and I want to help as many kids as I can. 

5. What is your usual your liquor/drink order? What kind of drunk are you? Probably a beer from a can?

6. What factors determine whether you will get along with someone? What is a complete turn off? Respect. I think as long as people respect me as a person, my values, actions, ideals and all that without imposing theirs, we’re good. I hope to do the same for the people I meet as well. 

7. What is something people assume about you that IS true? That...I’m a procrastinator. I will get the job done it’s just that I don’t like people telling me I need to. I’ll do it when i want to and well before the deadline (most times)

8. What is something people assume about you that ISN’T true? I’m all work and no play and that I’m boring aha. Yes, I spend a lot of my time on/at/with work but I do have things I enjoy like reading and drawing. I mean, just because I prefer to stay indoors does not mean I am boring. That probably sounded boring, though, oops

9. Is there anything you’re good at but hate doing? Organisation-of messy spaces, my day etc in any and all forms. I’m really good at getting things together in a very short time but I like a creative mess, too. *gestures wildly*

10. Where do you go when you need some time alone? Is it a place or person? The library. Both figuratively quiet and being surrounded by books and calm just helps to soothe the soul and to put things in perspective. I would say the gym but...Louis.

11. Friendship or Love? What’s more important to you? This one is really hard so...hmmm. Love, I guess. Cause you know, friends will always be there but they do grow up, move on with their lives and all that and it’s in no way anyone’s fault. That’s just how life is. Love stays with you; or so you hope.

[darveyfics]

We Fight Like Hell [to Protect It]

Prompt:

anonymous - Nothing really specific but I would love some protective Harvey.

--

Not sure if this is what you had in mind but I was doing a re-watch and this wouldn’t leave me alone so here we go! An AU during 4x11 Enough is Enough

Donna was staring out the expansive window of Harvey's office overlooking the late hour of bustling Midtown madness when she closed her eyes as she heard his familiar footsteps outside the hallway. It was late enough that he'd be the only one coming this way, but that still doesn't change the fact that she'd be able to pick out his steady gait out of the hundred employees at Pearson Specter.

She caught his reflection and twisted her fingers in shame.

"Harvey," she called out and watched the reflection step into his own office before she began to turn around.

"You don't need to say it," he said with a quiet rage discernable only to her ears. It isn't directed at her, but she feels like it should be. At least, partially.

"Yeah, I do," she confirmed as she turned to face him. She paused for a moment before walking towards him as he came around to stand at the corner of his desk. "Louis came looking for you, and I didn't know what to do. He was going to call Sheila and tell her everything. I'd never seen him like that before."

She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hands and for the first time, Harvey saw the smudged mascara and tear tracks bleeding through her typically put together self.

"Donna, this is not on you," he told her honestly. Because it was him. And Mike. And they thought they were invincible. She had always been the voice of reason, but he hadn't listened to her this time.

"Yes, it is. He pressed me, and I broke," she registered a sniffle, and her eyes met his. Hers was full of shame. His were full of contempt. But still, none of it directed at her.

"It doesn't matter because he already knew," he tries as he broke his gaze and looked down at her defeated posture before returning to lock eyes with her again.

"How can you know that?" She shook her head. She's the one that reads people. Not him. Well, he can't always know as she knows. He's Harvey, not Donna.

"Because I know Louis," he begins, and she watches as he steps around his desk. "And I know you. And he couldn't have broken you unless he knew the truth already. So, this is not your fault, and I never want to hear you say that again."

He's standing in front of her and saying all these words and keeping his eyes locked on hers, knowing she'd see that he's telling her the truth.

"I should have at least warned you before you got here," she says with a flippant gesture. It's all too much and yet not enough.

"All that would have done was antagonize him even more because he would have known you did it," he says as he shakes his head. His fingers unconsciously reach out, and they press her wrist and linger before encircling them. And he does it all without breaking eye contact. "You did everything you could have done."

"Okay," she gets out, and her shoulders shrug a little and his hold slips. Their fingers brush for the briefest of moments. Its a staring contest between them as they continue a wordless conversation to finalize their roles in this new hellscape they've just made.

"We have to tell Mike," she notes with as much care as possible.

"No we don't," he shakes his head and drops his hands back to his side. "Not now."

"Harvey," she whispers.

He watches her lips rather than her eyes now.

"I'll tell him in the morning. He just had a huge win, and I am not in the mood to ruin his night," he notes as he shakes his head.

A single tear falls as she nods her head. She understands but she's also one hundred percent certain this isn't going to be a favour to anyone come tomorrow.

He takes another look at her and reaches deep into his pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a brilliant white pocket square that's been hidden in the suit jacket all day. He hands it to her with a quiet sort of acceptance that they're now here of all places.

She swallows the lump in her throat and unfolds the square once, blotting at the trail of tears before moving to where she knows she looks like a bit of a sad, mangy raccoon.

He has the decency to look away for a moment to let her clean up before he turns back to look at her.

"Come on," he says after she's a little more put together. He can still see how defeated and sorry she is by her eyes and her posture. "Let's go home. There's nothing more we can do tonight."

There's a quiet moment once again as he helps her into her coat and they make it out to the car Harvey's parked at the curb. He opens the passenger door for her, and after she buckles in, she takes hold of her hair, so it doesn't fly all over the place when he does eventually get to pick up speed. When he turns the block three times to head to the Upper East Side, she hums and resigns herself to an evening in his company.

He means his home and not separate homes, and for once, she doesn't give a shit how it looks. He's done this a handful of times in the last year if she's really honest with herself. Plus, she's mentally and physically exhausted from the past two hours and doesn't have the energy to protest.

She doesn't have an appetite, and he doesn't force the issue. He promises to make waffles and berries in the morning since he’s pretty sure Mike had eaten all the good cereal she likes when he had been avoiding Rachel. He's kind of glad the kid is at some other place tonight.

He gives her a spare undershirt and a pair of clean gym shorts. She digs through a washroom drawer to find a new head for his Sonicare and makes sure that her brush head’s coloured ring was not the same as his that already sits atop the brush base. She pulls an extra washcloth and uses his facewash to remove her makeup, and when she comes out of the washroom, he's already turned down his bed and dressed in sweatpants and a similar undershirt.

She lets him slink past her, sticks her clothes on his dresser by the mirror, and then she moves around to the right side of the bed and slips in and rests her head on one of the soft feathered pillows. He's also pulled the blanket out. The one from his father's house that she always curled up in on their holiday or long weekend visits. When they had been dividing little things after his death, Marcus handed over the blanket without a second thought. And here he is, using it without a second thought. Shit, she thinks, she must look really fucking pitiful if Harvey's initiating so many gestures tonight without prompting. This thought causes her to sigh, and he wordlessly questions her with a raised brow as he slips in on his side. As a gesture, she shares her blanket--spreading it horizontally over their middles.

His fingers slide along bare skin on her arm as she curls up against his side, her head resting in the space between his chest and shoulder. He'll have a tingling, almost dead arm by the time she falls asleep. His rage has lessened in her presence and the quiet, gentle rhythm he's established listening to her breathing as well as his gentle touch on her skin. And its less than an hour after she slips into sleep that he finally does, too.

In the morning, he'll be on his stomach with his mouth a little open, and she'll be on her side, leaning against him, sleeping more on his side of the bed than her own. She slips out of his bed and grabs one of her spare dresses she has in the back of his closet-- like he has a few spare suits in the back of hers. She'll shower and dig through her purse to find her emergency makeup bag that has limited items but enough to not have to go home.

When she finally looks at her phone, she finds Rachel's texted her sometime in the night after she had turned the do not disturb function on and she warns Harvey as she's finishing up her waffles that Mike is most likely going to come to him.

He tells her to take the car, meaning Ray, and as soon as Ray texts that he's outside the building, Donna shrugs on her coat and Harvey's still eating waffles at the table.

She leans in and her fingers grip his arm as she presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, Harvey," she whispers with a small smile.

He nods through a mouthful of syrupy breakfast food and watches her leave.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Mike shows up.

There's a tap and rap rhythm on her door, and she knows it's him because no one else knocks like he's trying to do a poor man's morse code. She blows a breath out as she leaves her wine glass on the coffee table in front of her and unfolds herself from the couch to get the door.

When she opens the door, she doesn't have to force a smile because she's had a hell of a day and its only gotten worse for both of them, and his face mirrors her own.

She opens the door a little more to let him sneak past her, and she closes and locks the door.

"Rachel here?" He asks as he looks around and then back to her.

"No. I'm pretty sure they made up," she shakes her head as she watches him look at her and then he moves to her living room and sets the paper takeout bag in hand on the floor, and he sheds his suit jacket before sitting down.

"Sure, make yourself at home," she says sarcastically but moves to the kitchen and pulls out a wine glass for him.

He sits on the couch and looks at the bottle next to her own glass and pretends he knows about wine and his lips upturn in interest and he finds her looking at him with a small smile.

"Pretending you know if that's good or not?" Donna says as she taps his knees with her legs because he doesn't move and she sits down and sets the glass on the table.

Instead of letting her pour, he tops off her glass and fills his own before returning the bottle to the table.

He starts pulling food out of his paper bag and hands her a little takeout box that has three stars on the edge and she hides a smile as he takes out his own that has two stars.

"The shitty Thai place?" she asks as he gets up and moves to her kitchen to get their expensive, non-wood chopsticks she keeps in her utensil drawer. One of her better investments, he thinks, with how much Asian food they've consumed in the past fifteen years. “You must really want my company.”

He hands her a pair when he returns, and she sits criss-cross on the couch as he toes off his shoes to then sets his feet on the edge of the coffee table in front of him.

He watches her start to eat before he focuses on her own. Her television is off, and one of his dad's records quietly plays in the background, and he swallows the guilt.

"Did you and Rachel share a bed?" He jokes as he notices her couch is a little better than his own for sleeping and there aren't any blankets laying around or messily over the back of any chair.

"I told you once that how I sleep is none of your concern," she says with a laugh as she sipped her wine.

"And that still doesn't stop me from thinking about it," he points out.

"Asshole," she shakes her head. "But, no. I mean, did you and Mike share a bed?"

"He likes your side," Harvey jokes. "He did, however, eat all the cereal. I mean he even ate the Raisin Bran Crunch which I'm pretty sure was really old."

"That damn kid," Donna sighs dramatically. "That's why we had waffles this morning."

"Yep," Harvey said through a mouthful of noodles.

Donna shook her head.

Once they were finished with their food, he bags all their trash and moves into the kitchen to throw it in her bin. He sees the photo sitting at the kitchen table next to her purse and his lips form a frown. He brings the framed photo back to the couch, and he has a million questions, but he knows she gave the photo to Louis less than a month ago.

"This morning I found that face down on my desk," she says as she picks up her glass and swirls the dark red liquid around. "I told him I didn't want him to throw our friendship away over this. And he said it didn't exist in the first place."

She takes a moment to sip her wine and then traces the rim of the glass.

"He asked if I had the chance to take back all the nice things I've ever done in the name of our friendship in exchange for him not finding out, if I would do it."

He takes a mouthful of wine, and his fingers tighten on the stem.

"I didn't answer," she shrugged a shoulder. "It was a bullshit question asked to make me feel like shit. And, it worked."

"Donna," he says quietly and his fingers land on her knee.

"The worst part was when he told me I was dead to him," she said as she looked at him. She had unshed tears in her eyes, and he could tell that she was biting her lip before she hid her mouth for a moment by drinking her wine again.

Louis was going after her because he knew damn well it was the best way to get to him. The man had recently called him cold. And he'll take it every day if he has to, but as soon as someone comes after someone he cares about, especially the woman beside him, they better strap in and prepare for his overprotective nature.

He fills their glasses one last time, and he motions for her to sit by him. She curls into a different angle where her side is flush with his. His arm moves up and over her shoulder, slowly tracing the same pattern up and down on her robe-covered arm as they sit in the quiet of her apartment with the only sound his father's saxophone and the occasional sigh as the wine helps them unwind for the night.

"You want me to stay?" He asks quietly as they both finish off the last of the wine.

"Its okay," she shakes her head and moves into a seated position.

He nods and stands, shrugging on his suit jacket, and he watches as she stands.

She walks him to the door, and he promises to pick her up tomorrow because he'll be in early to meet with Jessica and she agrees.

His fingers gently grasp her forearm and slowly slide down to encircle her wrist. He leans in and presses his lips to her temple, and he catches her eye as he moves back.

"Goodnight, Donna," he says quietly.

"Night, Harvey," she echoes.

She watches him as he walks down the hall to the elevator in her building before shutting and locking the door.

Louis was slowly moving up his shit list, and it had been Harvey's and Jessica's day with the announcing of his partnership and the half-truths Harvey had to spout and pretend like he was thrilled this was happening.

And it had only gotten worse when Robert Zane called in his favour, and he had to use leverage against Scottie when all he wanted to do was keep their relationship at status quo and not have this shit hanging over their heads. Donna had offered to call and set up the meeting, but he had shaken his head. He needed to do this. She understood. 

So, she didn't question when he took his 'me' time to the coffee cart a few minutes later. And an hour later when she was finishing up setting up a few client meetings with Cline's people, he was in her space, setting down a cruller and one of her specialty drinks with extra, extra whipped cream.

For the rest of the day, he sat at the chair nearest his basketballs, and she took the couch cushion closest to him, working silently on case files.

He had been out of sorts and forgot niceties by the time seven pm rolled around. It had been a short meeting with Scottie, and when he was about to text Ray to come back and get him, a familiar individual leaned against the Lexus stopped at the curb.

"What the hell happened now?" He asks as he rubs his temples.

"He's requested a party with cake and champagne," Donna says as she stands up straight.

"Goddamn Louis," Harvey says as he clenches his jaw.

"Jessica was looking for you, so I told her I would have my guys take care of it since we know Louis and he's going to make all of us more miserable if we get it wrong," Donna says. "I told her I would tell you."

He blew out a breath and she knew without asking none of it went well despite the fact he had succeeded for Robert Zane.

"Come on," she says to him as she stands away from the door. "Let’s go get barbeque, make a pit stop, and then go home."

"Barbeque?" He asks as he opens the door and he hears Ray start the car.

"We can also blame Robert Zane for it," she shrugs before she ducks into the car.

He has a genuine smile on his face for the first time in several hours as walks to the other side, and when he gets in, he lets Ray know the agenda.

They went to Fette Sau and ordered all the barbeque thanks to Donna's conversation with Robert earlier, and Donna couldn't stop craving ribs and brisket for the rest of the day. They had Ray come in with them, and Harvey's driver tried to sit at the counter, but Donna was having none of it and told him he was their chaperone since Donna tended to be very territorial about her barbeque and Harvey tended to order something else off the menu and steal her food. Harvey countered that he ordered other things so they could share and that's why he takes things because she does it, too.

Ray agreed, if only to see Donna's forceful beauty extend to protecting a little piece of barbeque heaven from his boss.

As its an agenda item, Harvey made one last stop that night. Its why he got an extra order of ribs with extra spicy sauce, potato salad, and baked beans to go. And, a half hour later he was at the door with a bag and a case file that doesn't say Pearson Specter... now Pearson Specter Litt.

"It's done," Harvey says as he hands over a white takeout bag and the case file to Robert when he opened the front door. "We're even."

The older lawyer frowns in slight confusion as he watches as Harvey moves to the far side of the Lexus. The windows are too tinted, but as the lights turn on from the open door, he can see there's a familiar silhouette in the window that he had seen earlier that day in Harvey's office talking about the barbeque he now holds in his hand.

"Shit," he whispers to himself as he watches the Lexus drive away.

As with all meaningful confrontations, Harvey corners Louis in the Pearson Specter Litt washrooms after he had seen Donna get back to her desk to slowly sit in her chair and then run a hand through her hair, her posture showing slight defeat.

Thankfully the door is on a hinge that prevents his anger from ruining the door with the force he opens it with to find Louis looking at himself in the mirror with a grin on his face.

"You really want the pomp and circumstance, to lord it over our heads, and tell people that they're dead to you and break people? Then do it to me and do it to Mike. But don't you dare bring Donna into this," Harvey says as his fingers clench into a fist at his side. Although Jessica had made Louis sign the partnership agreement with the small addendum that he is also a co-conspirator, the message for them to start anew didn't quite reach Louis yet.

Louis turned and silently questioned Harvey, grin still apparent.

"Before this whole episode that you've made this small thing to be, Donna went to Jessica and almost got herself fired asking if you could help with Forstman and if Jessica would allow you to stay since she’s let me stay and let Donna come back," Harvey confessed. "She went to bat for you when no one else would. And, when I was supposed to fire you, she came with me to be there to support you because she knows this place is all you have."

Louis looked down in shame for the tiniest moment, but his ego was so overinflated at this point that Harvey was going to have to do a lot more confessing before it was over.

"She has only ever been your goddamn friend, Louis," Harvey says in a way that's quiet but cutting. "She gives a shit about you, Louis. Whenever you fuck up, she is always ready to defend you. And, this is how you treat her?"

"Why would I trust anything you say?" Louis spits back with just as much bite but not enough venom as Harvey’s own voice holds.

He looks at Harvey and steeples his fingers in front of himself.

"How do I know I can ever trust either of you? She may have you wrapped around her finger and be lying to you, too," he reminds the man in front of him. "I know you slept together. She just told me as a part of her penance."

Harvey worked his jaw for a moment, focusing on not beating the shit out of Louis for that comment.

"For the past three days, she's gone home and cried or felt like shit, and sometimes both," Harvey says quietly. He's unsure if Donna would want Louis knowing this, but it's all in the name of protecting the weird friendship Donna and Louis have undertaken the last thirteen years. "What was it you said to me a year and a half ago? What just happened to that beautiful woman in there, that's on you, not me. Well, this time, it is on you. It's on you because you can't goddamn see all she's ever done is defend you and the friendship she values with you. To me. To Jessica. And to any number of people who question us as a firm."

Louis's jaw twitches. He swallows a lump in his throat.

"After you left to go and lord it over Mike, Jessica told me that you threatened to go to the police," Harvey recalled as he stepped closer and used his height to intimidate the shorter man. "Of course Mike, Jessica, and I would have done time. Jessica and I would have our licenses stripped. Donna and Rachel may have also gone to prison depending who the ADA or DA was and if they had a grudge. And, you know what, the thought of Donna going to prison made me want to drop to my knees."

Louis opened his mouth to speak, but Harvey poked his chest with a finger to back him up.

"She's put me and my career first for the past fifteen years, and her loyalty to me is not to be mistaken for a fake friendship with you," Harvey reminds him. "She told you she was sorry and she meant it. It wasn't her tale to tell, you goddamn asshole."

He can see Louis's ego lessening a little. More to a manageable level. Still too much but enough to make him hold up a mirror to himself.

"I've taken your shitty attitude, and now we have you on the ropes, so you better cut the shit, Louis," Harvey reminds him.

Louis opens up his mouth to speak, and Harvey holds up a finger, wordlessly telling him that he's not finished.

"So, I swear to god, Louis, if you ever threaten her, make her cry, or do shady shit to her again, I will beat the shit out of you," Harvey warned. "And, until you figure your shit out and realize she's your friend, and apologise and mean it, stay the hell away from Donna."

Harvey works his jaw as he stands and looks at Louis, making sure the man knows he's not fucking around and Louis dips his chin, acknowledging his understanding.

She's leaning against the edge of his window where she had been three days ago, playing with the baseball he usually keeps on his desk. She's worried the stitching a million times over when she looks up and finds him leaning against the open door of his office.

"Hey," she whispers with a small smile.

"Hey," he echoes her greeting and tone.

She looks him over, and her head tilts with curiosity and knowledge despite the fact he didn't tell her what he was going to do.

"You saw Louis, didn't you?" Donna says with a knowing raise to her brows as he comes closer and takes the baseball from her hands.

"What can I say, he brings out the best in me," Harvey shrugs and his chin dips to watch his fingers move to the stitching as if he was going to pitch a fastball.

She tilts her head and leans in, catching his eyes with her own, and he brings his chin up. They have a wordless conversation where his gaze confesses what he's done.

"You're so goddamn emotional," she laughs breathily, and she steps away from her seat at the window. “While sweet, don’t do that again because we should be taking Jessica’s advice to heart.”

“What, fighting like hell to protect it?” Harvey asks as he’s heard a few things from Jessica the past few days.

She shakes her head and hides a smirk. She invades his space, her fingers run under the lapels of his jacket, and she tucks herself closer. Or, maybe she tugged him a little closer. Either way, she's up in his space, and he watches her eyes search him for a moment. And then two.

And then she's slowly leaning in and its long enough for him to either break contact or go full force, and he chooses a delicate version of the latter.

It's soft and unhurried. Donna's lips are full and sweet and bright, and he swears there's a hint of lip stain that sort of changes the entire taste of her as his teeth graze her lips in a brief exchange that's entirely too short in his opinion. He leans into her as her fingers tighten in his lapels and she leans up and into him. She stops it slowly. He's left with his eyes closed and his brows knitted in concentration and he opens his eyes slowly to find her wide brown eyes searching his own again.

"Thank you, Harvey," she whispers as her fingers loosen and drop and she smiles and drops eye contact as her chin moves downward. She licks her lips unconsciously as she feels him watching her and she steps to the side to go home for the night.

His fingers reach out and stop her as they grab her wrist and keeps her frozen to the spot.

"Come on," he gestures to the coat rack that holds both their jackets with the hand that holds the baseball. "Let's go home."

"I don't have spares at your condo," Donna reminds him.

"We're not coming into work tomorrow until later," he says as he shakes her head. "Breakfast and an excursion to get me a few new suits and you a few new dresses are in order, I think."

She laughs and he sees a genuine smile on her face for the first time in three days and he thinks they’re moving in the right direction for once.

He props the baseball back on his desk, and he helps her into her coat and then shrugs on his. He waits for her to pack her bag and as she rounds her cubicle, his fingers touch her own. She brings their palms together as they walk down the expanse of the hallway and for the first time this week as they see the Litt on the wall at the elevator, it doesn't bring a sense of dread of what's next in either of them.

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want The World!"

Monday 23rd November 2020

Hello again everyone! Hope you're having a good week so far. This post will be following up on Monday's episode, hopefully by the end of this week I will have completely caught up. I just want to thank you for being so patient with me, it really does mean the world. I hope you are enjoying my blog as much I am, please feel free to give me any feedback on how to improve my blog, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions!

So this episode very interestingly begins with Lauren calling a mobile phone. At first we have no idea who's phone it is as the phone appears to have been left on a table at the Cafe. Luckily Ash is in the Cafe and notices it ringing and manages to see the name appear on the screen, suddenly Peter comes dashing in, relieved to have found his phone. He realises he has a missed call from Lauren, he explains to Ash that she is simply just an ex-girlfriend, to which she responds by instructing him to call her back. However there would be no need for him to do so as his phone begins to ring again, this time he answers, and it doesn't take long for him to realise that there's something seriously wrong, on the other end, Lauren appears to be in a state. From the sounds of it she claims there has been some kind of fire. Is there going to be some horrendous news that their son Louie has passed away in house fire? Or perhaps does it mean that Lauren and Louis are now homeless and she's desperate for his help?!

Meanwhile Linda and Max are entering the Carter's apartment, all prepped and ready for their children to have a second playdate. As they chat and share a giggle as they walk into the main living space, they're shocked to see Mick sat on the sofa waiting and listening to their arrival. Linda is visibly incredibly surprised to see her husband back, you sense the absolute awkwardness in the room as the tension between Mick and Max is very much in the air. They remain civil to each other however as Ollie runs in to see his Daddy. Max suggests to Linda that they arrange a playdate another time and he picks up baby Abi and leaves Mick and Linda to have some time on their own. In all honesty, I was expecting some kind of row about to happen, but instead, they express to each other how much they had missed one another.

Returning to the Cafe, Peter announces the devastating news that Lauren and Louie have lost their home in a house fire, from the sounds of it, they have lost everything. Peter is in complete dismay as he starts to panic and wonder what he can do to help. Bobby suggests approaching his Dad for some help, surely he wouldn't see his Grandson out on the streets and struggling. Peter seems a bit doubtful to follow Bobby's advice, but in all honesty, what other choice has he got?!

Meanwhile on the Square, Gray finds Tina approaching the house and stops her in the path as he informs her she that she left her hair straighteners on, Tina being Tina, she simply sees the positive side of things and mentions that at least she didn't set the house on fire. (Is that just a coincidence that in another part of the world, Lauren has actually had a house fire!) - Hmm, I don't know, that just kind of stood out for me there. Gray asks her in the politest way he can, to make sure she doesn't do it again, Tina playfully agrees to obey. Whilst this is taking place on one side of the Square, across the road, Kat is seen throwing a bucket of water over an undercover police car, obviously she did it on purpose, but she tells the officers that she didn't see them. She attempts to insult them by informing them the water came from her Nan's footbath! (Can I just say how much I love Kat's one-liners, she's come out with some brilliant ones recently and honestly, I'm just loving her right now! I am so so glad she's back on the Square!) - As she walks away, Phil approaches her and she's quick question when she's going to receive her half of the money they agreed on. However, Phil informs her that she won't be getting a penny after the stunt Kush pulled about threatening to grass both Ben and Phil up. Kat is clearly frustrated, it's not her fault that Kush messed it up, plus she was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Will she fight to receive what she's owed?! As Phil walks away, Whitney approaches Kat from behind and pleads to her to try and talk to Kush, if he's going to making so much noise in their attic, eventually he's going to be found and it won't be good for him when he does, something tells me that Kat might convince him to go on the run?! What do you guys think? He can't stay in the attic forever, the police are out to get him and so are the Mitchells, if he was to escape somehow during the night, it may be his only chance of freedom.

At the Vic, Peter bursts in, in desperate need to speak to his Dad. Ian hears his son comes in and sarcastically questions "Where's the fire?!" Little did he know how serious that line would've been. Peter informs his Dad about the tragic news that in New Zealand, Lauren and Louie's house has completely burnt down and have been made homeless. Both Ian and Sharon are completely stunned to hear the news, Ian instantly assures his son he'll sort anything and everything he needs to help them. Peter is surprised but deeply grateful by his Dad's generosity. Peter leaves the Vic in attempt to get more shifts at the Cafe from Kathy just so he can earn some more money to send to Lauren, as Sharon looks to Ian and questions what his plan maybe for coming up with some funds for Lauren and Louie. It's interesting that Lauren doesn't want Max to know about their news, I mean surely Max would want to know whether his daughter and grandchild are safe or not, maybe in time Peter or Ian will reveal to him what has happened?!

Returning to the Carter's apartment, Mick reveals his eye injury to Linda and she's stunned to hear that while he was away seeing Lee, he got mugged by a group of youths, he informs her that luckily they didn't take anything. She passes him a bag of frozen peas to press against his eye. As he looks up, its clear to see he's got like a graze or mark of some kind just underneath his eyeball. He apologises to his wife for leaving in such a blip the way he did, but she is sympathetic towards her husbands and explains that she understands, as long as the break away helped him in some way. Now what Mick says next makes me feel, once again, that this is Mick and Linda that we've always loved - he removes the frozen peas from his eye and looks towards his wife, he then softly compliments her by saying that the more he looks at her, the more beautiful she is. (So sweet!) Once again they tell each other how much they missed each other and how it was for each of them being away from each other, for Mick it felt like a lifetime, whereas Linda playfully mentions that her week had flew by in her husband's absence. Linda then brings up the sensitive subject of Mick possibly going to see a doctor, but he reassures his wife that he doesn't need to see one and he's doing much better than he was.

At the Beale household, Kathy is also agreeing to help her Grandson out by giving him more shifts at the Cafe and maybe also Prince Albert. Peter is once again ever so grateful to his Nan for helping him out, it's only then that Kathy mentions how she wishes she could simply just give him the cash, but unfortunately, Ian has seen to that by his recent actions. Peter informs his Nan how much his Dad is willing to help, to which Kathy seems surprised, but maybe this could make them see him in another light? But the interesting question is, where is Ian going to find the money to also give to Peter? Considering he still owes Max and his Mum money - I swear to God, Ian is just digging and digging himself into a much deeper hole, isn't he?! Funnily enough, whilst this conversation is taking place, Ian finds Suki in the Cafe and tries to compromise - well actually no he doesn't - he basically informs her that he needs the other half of the money urgently as he's made promises to people, how Suki is not one to back out on her agreement so quickly, she informs Ian that he'll get his other half of the money as promised, once he's held up his part of their agreement. Ian is visibly irritable as he leaves the Cafe, but while their discussion has taken place, Ash has been watching them from behind and once Ian leaves the Cafe, Ash approaches her Mum questioning their friendship, however Suki plays it cool and comes up with the most ridiculous excuse (I think) that they were simply talking about fish and how Ian's portion sizes from his chippy were too small! In all honesty, who is going to believe that?! Ash is instantly looking suspicious of her Mother and Ian.

Meanwhile, up in Whitney's loft, Kush is continuously pacing and excursing to keep himself occupied, he appears to be completely on edge, he jumps out of his skin as there's a big bang and someone makes their way up into the attic. Kush is relieved to see it's just Whitney, as much as he's grateful to her to let him hide up there, he's desperate to know what's going on. He pleads for any news that Whitney may have about anything, she then informs him that police are parked up outside, whether they're watching the house or not remains to be seen, but Kush knows full well he can't make himself be seen, not just yet. He worries that his son, Arthur, will be asking for him, but Whitney tries to reassure him that Kat will think of something, even if it mean him coming out the back way. Suddenly there's another loud bang from downstairs and Whitney reveals that it'll be Dotty returning home, Dotty is also unaware about Kush being upstairs in the attic, Whitney pleads to Kush to keep quiet, they can't risk Dotty or anyone else finding out that he's up there.

Across the Square, Tina is gathering her belongings from the Ahmed's household, as she gathers her DVDs together, Iqra apologises for how things turned out, but she's also happy that Tina has managed to find a place to live and she can start looking forward. Suddenly, Kheerat enters the room looking for Ash, but Tina informs him that she's not there, and playfully makes up the excuse that she didn't want to help her move out. Kheerat is instantly interested to hear where Tina will be moving to, but as soon as Tina mentions she'll be living in the Atkin's household, Kheerat seems really wary and decides to take it upon himself to warn Tina about Gray. She of course seems a little confused, but Kheerat is adamant that Gray isn't who she think he is. Will Tina listen to Kheerat?! Will she be the one who uncovers his secret about Chantelle?! Or more tragically, will Tina be another one of Gray's victims? Will he become so angry with her and about her living arrangements/habits that he'll lash out as he did with Chantelle?! We know that Tina will be leaving soon, and I'm pretty sure it's been revealed that Luisa Bradshaw-White has filmed her final scenes as Tina Carter - what IS going to happen to Tina?!

At the park, Whitney and Gray have taken his children, Mack and Mia out for a play. As they watch the children kick a football around, interestingly the conversation actually turns to Tina. Whitney mentions how Gray has done a good thing taking both Shirley and Tina in, however he informs her that since moving in, Tina has turned his house upside down with her untidiness. Whitney understands his frustration as she seems to recall when she lived in the Vic, that Tina was the untidy one, but she then compliment's Gray be saying he's "The Hero of The Square" - (Hmm, if only she knew how her best friend died!) - she compliments how he has taken two damsel in distresses and how if he carries on the way he is, everyone is going to want a piece of him. His response to this is pretty intriguing - he comments that he didn't think anyone had noticed (maybe a bit of flirtation between him and Whitney there) - but then he pulls a really smug grin, as if like she's given his ego an absolute burst of confidence! (I know it was rumoured ages ago that he and Whitney were going to become an item, do we still think that is going to happen?)

At the restaurant, Mick and Linda are sat together at a table, it looks as if they're about to spend some quality time together after so long. However, Linda is looking a little nervous, and it's pretty obvious as to why as Max appears from the back. Things are still a little awkward between Max and Mick, Max begins to question Linda about more costumes for her business idea, of course Mick is completely unaware of his wife's new aspects for the future, he looks over to her and compliments that it's a good idea, but Linda simply shrugs it off and mentions that she's not even sure whether she'll go through with it. Max then takes it upon himself to ask whether Mick will be attending the Award Ceremony in Lucy Beale's name, Mick - pretty much- cuts him off abruptly and assures him that he wouldn't miss it for the world! To make Max remove himself from the conversation, Linda asks him for some water for the table, Max seems to get the hint and walks away. She then tries to talk properly to her husband about their children, mentioning Lee and Nancy, but suddenly, Bobby walks in and instantly apologises to Max for being so late, but unfortunately he drops the bombshell to Max about the fire that Lauren has had in New Zealand, Max is clearly worried by this news and is instantly wanting to know more, he dashes out in search for answers, leaving Bobby to run the restaurant on his own.

Meanwhile, at the Prince Albert, Ash is questioning Peter whether there's any update on the situation in New Zealand, as he serves her drinks. Peter seems to be a lot more relaxed after speaking with his Dad, he confides in Ash and mentions that things are looking a little better now that Ian has promised to help him out with money. However, Ian sluggishly makes his way into the bar, looking a little disappointed, Peter questions what's brothering his Dad, but Ian comes clean to his son and admits he's been trying all sorts of way to raise some quick money for Lauren and Louie, but he hasn't had much luck. Peter is clearly very disappointed, Ian proposes whether they'll be able to wait a week or two so he can raise some money, but that simply isn't good enough as Peter states that they need the money now! Ian once again apologises to his son and suggests maybe he takes out a loan or something in an attempt to help Lauren. He walks out leaving the bar and leaving Peter feeling absolutely devastated.

Back in Whitney's attic, Kat has finally managed to to find the time to see Kush. However she's not in the best of moods, she's feeling pretty annoyed and questions his actions on threatening the Mitchell family. Kush is quick to defend himself and states that he only threatened Callum, but Kat then explains the rest of the jigsaw to him, that Callum is Ben's boyfriend, who has only gone and told his Dad everything, so that's 3 people out for them now, including the police. She then gives Kush the devastating truth that Phil is unwilling to pay them their share of the money, so basically they are now back to square one - they are struggling to pay their rent and now they're criminals and Kush is a wanted man! Kush is visibly defeated, it's devastating how things have turned out for them, they had one chance of changing their life and Kat blames Kush for blowing it!

Ooooh is anyone else going to be fearing for Tina now?! She needs to make sure she's watching herself whilst living with Gray! She arrives home to see Gray and Whitney serving up a pizza and alcohol, Gray questions where she's been and she reveals she's been to the charity shop to sell off some of her old belongings, she announces that she has officially moved in. However, when Gray proposes a toast with champagne, Tina comments that she'll have to take a photograph of the moment to show Kheerat, as soon as Gray hears that name, his face goes very serious and he asks her why she'd have to do that. Tina then reveals, shyly and confusedly, that Kheerat mentioned that she should watch herself whilst she's around him, but Whitney laughs it off and comments that Kheerat is just jealous. But something is deeply telling me that Gray is going to have it in for Tina, he's going to be watching her every move - just like he did with Chantelle. Will Tina be Gray's second victim and succumb to his terrifying angry lash outs?!

Returning to the Beale household, Peter is sat alone with his laptop, it looks as if he's trying to apply for a loan, as he scrolls down the page, suddenly a notification appears on the laptop, he looks a bit closer and it appears to be an email confirming the Ian's final will and testament. Suddenly, Ash arrives wanting to check if he was okay, as she comes closer she can see that Peter has been crying. Peter is in absolute shock, he announces that his Dad was never going to help him with the money for Lauren, he turns the laptop around to show Ash and she too can't believe what she's reading. It's then Peter realises that he hasn't been mentioned in his Dad's final will and testament. He begins to feel that he doesn't even matter, even though Ash tries to reassure him that he does, but as far as he sees it, not according to his Father he doesn't. Is it a mistake? Will Ian have a valid reason for leaving Peter out of his will? I do hope there will be some logical explanation. Even though Ian has been a bit awful recently, it's just down right low to not involve his child in his will?! Right?!

Back at their apartment, Mick and Linda are trying to wind down. Mick makes himself comfortable on the sofa and lies back and she gives him a glass of wine. This scene I feel was a bit cute but also questionable. As Mick lies back and gets comfortable, he addresses how happy he is to be back with his wife. Linda also expresses how happy she is to have him back also, she then tries to be romantic and suggests they spend some time together to get reacquainted before Ollie comes home, however when she looks over to her husband, it looks as if he's simply drifted off to sleep. She smiles and wraps a warm blanket around him and softly welcomes him home. But as she walks away to the bedroom, Mick opens his eyes every so slowly - Now, I'm beginning to question - why did he ignore his wife? Why did he pretend to be asleep? Does he not want to make love to her? Is he doubting her friendship/relationship with Max? Who knows? But something tells me that there is something clearly on his mind.

The final scene of this episode, we return to the Beale household. I did think this was a powerful and an emotional monologue by Peter. In this one piece of speech he tries to recall his memories of his childhood with Lucy. He reveals how upsetting it is for him not being able to interact with his twin anymore, he can't touch her or talk to her anymore. He reveals that no matter what Lucy got up to, she was always their Dad's favourite child. He describes his role was being the one to look out for his sister, the one who would be there to make their family complete. He admits that he's never done any wrong to anyone, not intentionally. Plus he's always done right by his Dad and his family. He can't understand why his Dad has left him out of his will, he even confirms that he's checked it over and over again and still can't find his name anywhere in the document. But the one thing that seems to upset him more than anything is that the one person who caused their family so much sadness and pain, the one person who did the worst possible thing to their family IS actually on their Dad's will - Bobby! He can't seem to understand how someone who did something so horrendous, has been given a second chance at life and make something of themselves and in his words "Be given the world!" But it looks as if he's not going to stand for it, even though he's tried his best to accept Bobby, this must've been the one thing he cannot agree and stand by and watch - he wants to be given as much praise and chance as Bobby has!

What do you think Peter will do? Will he jeopardise Bobby's charity Award Ceremony in their sister's name? Will he confront his Dad about the Will? Something tells me that Peter will be out for some kind of revenge against his younger brother, but what exactly? Overall a very interesting episode! What do you guys think? I hope you've enjoyed reading! I'll be back again tomorrow following up on Tuesday's episode! Enjoy the rest of your evening folks! xXx