#slutty space noodle

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

The Doctor of Drama is in 🎭

[bengiyo]

Step by Step Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week on HR violations, Jeng faced the weight of the homophobia on the board of the company and apologized for inconveniencing them with his queerness. He convinced Pat to stick around and commit to the proposed test of their project and joined the new bubble at work of all of the people who know about them and support them. Though they were required to complete this ad campaign with no money, they used Ying’s skills as a fic writer and Pat’s former relationship with Put to pull off the campaign. Put was also forced to essentially closet himself and play up his fake relationship with his costar. Jaab and Jen are a hot mess, because now Jen is all the way in Japan. Unfortunately, Jeng blew it and used his own money for ads, undercutting Pat’s success. Pat, understandably furious, has broken up with Jeng and left Jian Group. Jeng fell right into his dad’s trap.

Two years later? The girlies are going to riot.

Okay, I love that they formed their own team, and also that the Wi-Fi password is so easily compromised.

So Pat, Ae, and Chot run a successful ad company together, and are about to compete with Jian Group for the Fjord contract. I am excited.

New Intro song in the finale??

I’m with Chot. I don’t care about all this other gay drama. I wanna qiqi with my former work besties if we are at an event together.

I love Chot and Nan so much it makes me feel silly. Chot has to rush off because he knows Pat and Jeng are gonna mess each other up again.

I know meeting Jeng is a stressful situation, but Pat didn’t wash his hands!!!

I get Pat’s stress. The entire problem with Jeng was about Jeng flirting through work. I’m totally with Pat on not accepting overtures that are tied to work.

Damn, Jaab ain’t have to cut his brother like that, comparing his behavior with Pat to their dad’s with Jeng.

I’m enjoying the cross-cutting on the different pitches.

Oh shit, Pat is bitter bitter.

Okay, I’m with Tae. He extended the correct professional courtesy by offering the karaoke night ad campaign to Pat’s company. It’s not his fault that Pat always suspects Jeng of trying to manipulate them into contact.

My man is eating sad noodles and chicken!!!

Chot realized things were bad enough that he called in Pat’s dad.

Ying is now a successful BL writer. OMG.

I feel so bad for Pat. He’s right that Jeng’s presence brings into question any accomplishments he had. Sure they got the Forge account, but Pat can’t be sure that Jeng wasn’t involved somehow. It’s really sad that Jeng perverts acts of service as a love language.

I am still with Tae. My dude said he is tired of these two sucking all the life out of the room. They need to grill this beef and eat it.

My current sexuality is Pat in these blue jeans and this oversized black shirt with a slutty amount of chest showing.

I love when people write and delete messages in modern dramas. That’s so real.

I just know Up suggested he dance.

GOOD NEWS! Chot and his man are still together!

Shrimp nuggets?? I’m gonna McFuckinLoseIt.

Up Poompat is so goddamn pretty. Holy shit.

Sometimes the only person who can really kick you out of your romantic shit is your ex.

Karaoke emotional processing? Bracing.

I’m feeling a bit mixed on the kitchen reconciliation. I don’t think Pat should apologize about being irrational, but I can accept that ghosting Jeng may have felt like too much. Overall, I’m okay with them recognizing that they’re still stuck on each other and want to sort that out. Im okay with them taking it slowly.

I respect the dad for leaving to give them space to work this out.

Jeng traveled with that porridge. How is it so hot? Or did they just throw it in a microwave?

Oh, roleplaying a new first meeting is kind of cute.

He wore all blue to quit his job. I’m so glad this man finally quit his job.

I want some green curry now, too.

Very excited to meet Jeng’s mom. She has two queer sons. She has stories.

So if Pat started this show at 25, turned 26, broke up with Jeng, and now it’s been two years, Pat should be 29, right?

I am with Pat. It hurts to be called your partner’s friend, especially when they know.

So they really had Jeng cover his lips in white icing and then kiss Pat.

Okay so the rest of that was wind down.

Final Verdict: 7.5, Recommend for Fans of Queer Cinema. Despite how much I enjoy the characters and the performances, none of the elements of this show fully connect for me into something greater than the sum of their parts, and I feel like we had to work far too hard to understand the intent of much of it. In many ways it has the opposite problem of A Boss and a Babe, which cared more about character moments than big thematic ideas. This show cares a lot about its ideas about queer people in the workplace, but struggled to use its queer characters to elegantly express them.

[themidnightcrimson]

No Touching. | w. maximoff

summary: in which reader teases wanda tortuously—and gets retribution for it.

warnings: teasing, power struggle, oral and fingering (r receiving), domestic but slutty, top!wanda

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

masterlist.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway brought excitement flooding up your spine. You tried to contain the knot in your stomach as you flattened out your dangerously short skirt.

Wanda had been working so hard at her job every day while you stayed at home taking care of things around the house, and you wanted to repay her that night by dressing as slutty as you discreetly could, wearing a short loose skirt that barely covered your ass, and a tight-fitting button-up crop top that was admittedly a little hard to breathe in.

Of course, you weren't going to just let her have her way. You wanted to rile her up and let her enjoy the sight of you instead of ruining you so quickly as she often did. You clenched your jaw to strengthen your resolve before going back to cutting the tomatoes.

You listened in anticipation as Wanda's keys jiggled in the doorknob. The squeak of the door opening could be heard from the kitchen as you tried to focus on not slicing your fingers. She sighed softly in the other room, and each footstep coming closer made your stomach twist and turn in excitement.

A breath held itself in your throat when you heard the kitchen door swing open. "Hey, I'm home—"

Wanda found herself halting to a stop when she entered the kitchen and caught sight of you. Her brain faltered in registering what she was seeing—you, back turned to her, standing at the counter cutting something, wearing your white cooking apron that tied tightly around your accentuated waist, a crop top that showed the mid of your back, and a black tennis skirt that hiked up and nearly exposed your ass as you leaned over slightly.

"Damn," Wanda whispered under her breath, and luckily you weren't facing her so she couldn't see the knowing smirk on your face.

Wanda looked to the noodles boiling on the stove and realized by the delectable smell in the air that you were making her favorite pasta. Her mouth watered—not for the food, but for you.

You finally turned around to her, using your fingers to slide a stray bit of tomato from the blade of the knife in your hand. You sucked it off your fingers as you made eye contact with her. "Hey, baby," you said with a grin, wiping your fingers on your apron and setting the knife down.

Wanda's green eyes flickered down your front, taking you in from that side. Her hand that was holding her coat was nearly white with how hard she was unknowingly gripping it. Her eyes reluctantly moved from your body and back up to yours that tried so obviously hard to appear innocent. She saw right through it, though, and you knew that she wasn't fooled when her jaw set itself crooked and a smirk rose to her lips.

"Did Christmas come early this year?" Wanda purred as she tossed her coat over the back of a chair at the table. She took slow steps towards you, casually unbuttoning her blazer as she did every night when she got home. For some reason, the action felt incredibly erotic as she waltzed towards you with eyes like the moon, and you bit your lip.

"That's a cheesy line," you played, pressing your back into the counter as she invaded your space.

All Wanda did was growl as she finally grabbed your hips and trapped you between her body pressing into your front and the counter digging into your spine. Her eyes flushed over you again as you held onto her arms and looked up at her.

"Wanna tell me what the special occasion is?" she asked in a husky tone, her fingers digging into your sides and dragging up your bare skin, peeking underneath your crop top.

You gritted your teeth to keep from exhaling in delight. "No occasion," you whispered back. "And nothing special."

"Oh, it's something special, alright," Wanda breathed before leaning down and pushing her lips against yours. You sighed into the kiss, raising your hand to cup her jaw as she moved her lips hard against yours.

Her hands came to the knot of your apron straps at your back, and with one tug they unraveled. Pulling away from the kiss that left you breathless, Wanda pulled the apron off you to reveal your chest that was heavily exposed by your shirt.

"Fuck," Wanda said between a grin. Her hands wasted no time in greedily making their way up to cup you, but you stopped them at your ribcage. Her eyes met yours curiously.

"No touching," you whispered, leaning up and giving her a brisk peck on the lips. "Let's enjoy dinner first."

"But I want you for dinner," Wanda pouted, leaning down to kiss your neck, but you moved away. Wanda caught your eyes again and saw offense in them.

"I slaved over dinner all evening, and you don't even want it?" you snapped, moving out from between her and the counter to stand at a distance and glare at her.

Wanda tried to take you seriously through all the lustful thoughts you were bringing her. She blinked and shook her head, speaking in a much nicer tone, "No, baby, I do want dinner. It smells amazing."

You tilted your head and watched her get bothered over upsetting you. The brat within caused you to smirk smugly. "Good then." Your heels clicked as you went back to the tomatoes and picked up the knife, loosely pointing it at her as you said, "Set the table, will you, dear?" and gave her a wink.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek and let her eyes fall to your ass as you leaned over much more than was necessary to cut the tomatoes, but she did as she was told in hopes that you would let her rip that skirt in half after dinner.

+

You did not, in fact, live up to Wanda's hopes in the way she expected. All throughout dinner, Wanda could barely focus on eating with the way your cleavage became so distracting every move you made. You kept asking her about her day at work, and she would try to tell you without stuttering, but her words would fumble when she felt your heel sliding up her calf from under the table. She had taken her black blazer off at this point and was only in her white, half-buttoned undershirt and black slacks.

You both had finished eating ten minutes ago and already cleared the table, but you were going on about your adventures in the garden that morning while Wanda sat and halfway listened, hands clasped on the table, knee bouncing as her mind and eyes wandered.

"And the strawberries seem to be coming in real nice this year. If we're lucky, we might be able—"

"Take your top off."

You paused, your sentence interrupted by the woman sitting across from you and nearly glaring at you. You became flustered at the sudden demand, lips falling open. "What?"

"Stop talking about goddamn strawberries and take your clothes off," Wanda grunted again, punctuating her sentence by sharply standing up and walking around the table to you. You didn't have time to react before she slid her hands under your arms and lifted you up out of the seat, slamming you onto your back on the table.

Your breath was knocked from your lungs as you watched Wanda kick the chair out of her way and stand between your legs, grabbing each one by your calves and opening them up to her.

Quickly, you latched your legs around her and sat up, pushing her back. She stumbled back into the chair, taking you with her so that you ended up in her lap.

Wanda was nearly breathless as she looked up at you, eyebrows arched in shock. Straddling her, you rested your arms on her shoulders and smirked down at her.

"You want me to take my top off?" you whispered, bringing your lips to kiss the apple of her cheek.

"Obviously," she muttered, stroking her hands up your thighs and under your skirt. You snatched them and pulled them back down safely to your knees.

"Under one condition," you whispered before pushing her hands off you completely. "No touching."

Wanda looked up at you in confusion. "And how do you expect me to do that when you're dressed like this?" She went to grab your thighs again, but you caught her hands and held them.

"If you want to fuck me, you'll simply have to be patient for it," you shrugged, dropping her hands and twirling your fingers around her hair.

She looked up at you heatedly, jaw clenched as her fists balled to restrain the urge to touch you again. "Well, get on with it, them. Take it off." Her eyes darkened and lowered to your shirt.

You fake pouted as your fingers moved to the buttons of your cropped shirt. "Tsk tsk...so pushy."

Wanda chewed her lip as you unbuttoned the shirt purposefully slow. You took your time with each button, starting at the very top one. By the time you were halfway done, Wanda groaned impatiently and grabbed your hips.

Tilting your head, you immediately started rebuttoning the shirt faster. "No!" Wanda growled, and in a moment of frustration, she grabbed the shirt and ripped it open. The veins in her hands flexed as buttons went flying everywhere, scattering all across the kitchen floor.

You gasped at the action, feeling cold air hit your bare breasts. Wanda moaned and leaned to put her mouth on you, but you pushed her back. Quickly, you reached to the ground and grabbed the torn shirt that was now a useless piece of cloth. You pushed Wanda's hands behind her, and within seconds you were tying them into a tight knot. Wanda yanked at the restraints and looked at you in defeat, tilting her head and pursing her lips.

"I told you no touching, dear," you said with an innocent voice and a sweet smile as you began rubbing your nipples. "What, you don't want to watch?"

Wanda sucked in a deep breath when you lifted up your skirt to reveal your bare core. "Fuck," she said in a weaker tone, some of her resolve faltering as she looked up at you with a suddenly pleading look. "Please, y/n..."

"Aww, now you're begging?" you teased as you played with the buttons of her shirt, undoing them all the way down so you could see her black bra. "Does Mommy want to fuck me?" You looked at her seductively as you moved your fingers to your clit.

"Fuck, yes," Wanda moaned, yanking again at the ties. She could feel her hands itching to grab you and take you, and your attitude was only worsening her desire. She felt a burning all over at the sight of you touching yourself, your eyes fluttering closed, soft pink lips falling open. She leaned forward to kiss you, but you leaned away and continued touching yourself. Grunting, she felt that she could scream from frustration.

You giggled despotically at the sight of Wanda almost in tears just from wanting to touch you. You were close to giving in now that she was begging, but you wanted to toy with her just a tad more.

Holding onto her shoulders, you arched up and shifted yourself so that you were straddling only one of her legs. Leaning forward, you dodged her lips and nipped at her nose with a chuckle as you began grinding your hips forward.

"Fuck," you moaned at the wonderful friction on your clit. The texture of Wanda's silky work pants felt heavenly against your bare cunt as you began humping her thigh slowly.

"Shit," Wanda cursed with you, feeling moisture soak through her pants where you grinded. "You're so evil," she growled. Secretly, while she was enjoying the show, she was close to freeing her hands from the knotted shirt.

Moving Wanda's hair from her shoulder, you licked a hot line up her neck, causing the woman to shudder and moan as you bit at her skin. You grabbed her other leg for support as you ground yourself harder onto her, already feeling close just from the hotness of it all.

"Wanda," you moaned against her hot, damp neck, feeling her rapid pulse beneath her skin. You went in to bite the corner of her jaw, but suddenly her hands were on your waist. You let out a noise of confusion as she sharply rose to her feet, lifting you up with her. You shrieked and grabbed onto her before she flung you over the table again, this time much rougher. Her fists grabbed your wrists and slammed them onto the hard wood as she thrust her hips against your bare cunt that throbbed from the action.

"I think I've had enough, don't you?" she spat before crashing her lips onto yours, giving you a hot, bruising kiss in which her tongue explored your mouth. You struggled to catch your breath as she tongued you, and once she pulled away you gasped loudly.

Wanda wasted no time in stooping down in front of you, hands almost shaking in eagerness as she pushed the folds of your skirt up your hips and bunched them, spreading your thighs roughly before connecting her mouth with your clit. Your hips instantly bucked at the rather harsh contact, her tongue not being gentle in the slightest as it lapped and sucked at you.

The roughness was exactly what you had been baiting for, and your entire body felt like it was on fire in the most pleasurable way. Embers seared inside your belly as Wanda shoved her tongue inside of you. You moaned loudly, back arching off the table as the woman's tongue continued assaulting you underneath your skirt.

"Fuck, Wanda," you whined, squeezing your thighs around her head that was covered by the fabric of your skirt. You had hardly noticed her fingernails digging painfully into your hips, and the sudden realization of pain amped the pleasure to a nearly blinding level. "I'm close!" you breathed, moving your hands to grab at her hair.

Moving her mouth back to your clit, Wanda replaced her tongue with her fingers, sinking three inside you all at once. You nearly screamed, eyes squeezing shut as stars displayed behind them. The pressure in your abdomen increased as she fucked you mercilessly with her fingers, curling them inside you all the while suckling on your clit with her mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you gasped, rubbing your thighs around Wanda's head as you bucked your hips harder up towards her, hands grabbing desperately at her hair. Soon, you found yourself screaming on the dining table, pleasure exploding inside your stomach so hard that your legs begun to shake.

When your moans quieted and turned into sharp pants, Wanda removed herself from under your skirt and looked up at you darkly, grinning in victory. You looked up at her in a daze, eyelids heavy and blinking slowly, as she stood over you. Noticing your legs were trembling uncontrollably, she held them firmly around her waist as she leaned down to kiss you softly. You tasted yourself as you sloppily kissed her back, still feeling stuck from your intense climax.

Pulling away, Wanda looked down at you lovingly. Then she grabbed her chin harshly, a stern look forming in her irises. "Don't ever fucking tease me like that again."

"Yes, Mommy."

[spicedrobot]

That blue pool noodle of a cowboy for the bingo

He is soooo cool and perfect. He steals Obi-Wan's catchphrase then shoots a man dead point blank. Even when he was 20 he looked 53. He back talks every Sith Lord he meets then charges them extra for his time. He mentored a kid just because he wanted him to be a worthy rival like his father was. He also paid said kid to start a prison riot. He wears slutty boots that look like chaps but decidedly aren't. He can't sit upright in a chair for more than a few seconds. He doesn't want to stick out but he wears a big fucking hat that anyone can identify. He's got batman level gadgetry and he has half of it to fight off goody two-shoe space wizards. He outdraws every fucker in GFFA and winks when he's committing child theft. #goals

[xofanfics]

String - Prologue

Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ. 

His smile was enough to light up your world and shine through your darkest days. You looked over at him as he spoke excitedly about going to Korea for the summer. You watched him talk, looking at how his lips curved perfectly with every word and how straight his teeth were. You listened to the sound of his voice and you heard how the words just rolled off his tongue. He was perfect to you and you’d found yourself thinking of him in more ways than one. 

To be honest, it wasn’t like this before. You didn’t think of him like this. You saw him as a friend, an annoying cousin, maybe. He was one of the most good looking guys you knew, but your thoughts never went beyond that; they never crossed that line. 

You never even considered liking him or sleeping with him or even dating him. In your mind, none of those things were ever an option or second thought. One day, it just happened and somehow, someway, you ended up in bed and underneath him.

You remembered that day clearly, as if it all happened yesterday. 

You’d both been out drinking with your friends that night and, when everyone called it a night, he went with you on the train to make sure you got back to your apartment safely. Baekhyun was that type of friend. He was always making sure you got home safely and even if he didn’t take you home himself, he’d call you around the time you should’ve been home. He was a very caring person from what he’d shown you.

He walked you from the train station, to your building, and upstairs with you. You let him inside, tiptoeing in case your roommates were asleep. “Do you wanna hangout for a little bit or are you tired?”

He said, “Me? Tired? Never.” You smiled and hung your jacket up in the closet. “Actually?”

When you turned around, his lips were on yours. You didn’t know if this was happening because he was drunk or because you were drunk or just for the hell of it. You weren’t that concerned; Baekhyun was an amazing kisser. His tongue slid over yours and back again. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in his scent, his taste. You could taste his whiskey on the rocks that he had earlier, his tongue covered in the sweet taste of the brown liquor. 

When you thought he might pull away, he didn’t. He kept kissing you and he kept telling you how good you looked tonight between kisses.

When he finally let you go, he said, “How didn’t I know how perfect your body is?”

You smirked. “You never asked.”

He put his hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “I know we’re still a little drunk but I wanna make you feel good. What do you think?”

Though Baekhyun was just your friend, this still felt very...right and you didn’t want it to stop. Plus, it wasn’t like you’d had any sex recently. Sex with Baekhyun was a better option than spreading your legs for one of your Hinge matches.

To answer him, you pulled him onto the bed. You reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head before you planted a kiss on his lips. And he took that as a green light to undress you. He pulled your clothes off and started feeling your body. He ran his long, slender fingers across your face, your neck, down to your breasts, your hips and thighs. His touch sent chills up your spine.

He felt for your clit and a surge of pleasure shot up your core as he started rubbing it. He felt around it, adding, “Wow, I barely touched you and you’re already this wet?” You bit your lip. It was true. Had it been that long since you had sex? So long that any sexual interaction would have you flowing like a river? 

Baekhyun rolled over on his side and started kissing you again. “I wanna taste you.” And, with that, you sat on his face in 69-position. Baekhyun groaned in anticipation before you put his length in your mouth. He started swirling his tongue around your clit as you started sucking him off. He groaned into your pussy and you started moaning. His tongue felt amazing and you were loving every second of it. 

You choked on the pleasure. “Baekhy-”

“You like that, Y/N?”

You got off of him and went into your nightstand, pulling out a condom. You said, “I need you bad.”

Baekhyun bit his lip, tugging at the corner. “Fuck...How do you like it?”

You bent over for him, on all fours. “Rough.”

He smiled. “Oh yeah? Rough sex, coming right up.” He rolled on the condom and lined up against your entrance before pushing into you with a sigh. You let out breathy gasps as he pounded into you, his hips slamming into you with loud slapping sounds. He groaned from behind you and smacked your ass. You cried out and he covered your mouth. “I bet your roommates wish they were getting fucked right now. I bet they can hear how slutty you sound through the walls.”

You tried to hold in your moans but it was no use. Baekhyun only fucked you harder and your moans became muffled against his palm. And to make matters much worse, he started rubbing your clit. You weren’t going to last much longer if he kept this up. 

As if he could read your mind, he said, “You’re going to come soon, aren’t you? Come on my dick, Y/N...” Your body started shaking and he held you as you came, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. “Perfect…”

He pulled out of you and you lay on your stomach. Though you couldn’t see him from behind, you felt him move on the bed and, before you knew it, he was entering you. You lay flat on the bed as he started pushing in and out of you slowly. You turned your head and said, “It feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You’re so tight, I’m gonna come.”

“Come,” you whispered before he started pounding into you a bit more roughly. And as he released into the condom, he let out a string of obscenities. A few seconds later, he pulled out of you and put the condom in the garbage. He returned to the bed with a sigh of relief, lying next to your naked, fucked-out body. 

He said, “Can I stay with you tonight? I think I’m too tired to go back home.”

“Of course.”

He held you tightly, wrapping you up in his arms. You slept soundly and woke up feeling refreshed. When you woke up, he was still asleep. His mouth was open and he was snoring. You smiled and laughed out loud. Baekhyun stirred and opened his eyes. He smiled at the sight of you.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” you said. “This isn’t going to be weird now, is it?”

He shook his head. “It’s not weird.” He cleared his throat. “I was actually wondering but...should we make this a regular thing?”

What you assumed would be a one time thing, turned into something that happened often. It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t awkward. He’d come to your place or you’d go to his. At least once or twice during the week, he’d be inside of you. You were having fun and so was he.

You didn’t mind any of this until you started to look at him differently. The feelings that flooded your mind were unfamiliar. You felt butterflies every time he touched you, every time he asked you to come over. Things weren’t just about sex either. There were times you’d just hang out, as friends like you used to. You’d laugh at shows on Comedy Central and you’d make guacamole together. You’d walk each other to class and bring each other coffee. You could call Baekhyun at any hour and he’d be there and the same went for him, whether it was related to sex or not. 

“Y/N?” 

You snapped out of it, finally becoming aware of your surroundings. “Huh?”

Baekhyun chuckled, shaking his head. “You look so cute all spaced out like that.” At that moment, two books of beef soup, noodles, and bok choy were placed in front of you. “Finally…” As you picked up your chopsticks, he said, “What were you thinking about, by the way?”

You liked Baekhyun a lot and you wanted to tell him. You felt good enough to confess your feelings. Baekhyun was your friend and you knew that even if he rejected you, he wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt your feelings. Baekhyun was a good friend.

“I’ve been thinking...and I wanna to tell you something,” you said. 

Baekhyun took a sip of the broth with his spoon. “What is it?”

“I like you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun smiled. “I like you too, Y/N.”

“What if we...dated?”

Baekhyun paused for a few seconds and your confidence plummeted underground. “It’s okay,” you said, biting your lip. “Never mind.”

“No, no, no, it’s not that I don’t want to,” he said. “It’s just that, well, I’m going to be in Korea all summer and if we’re together I don’t want to be away from you for so long. I think it’s better if we wait...at least until I come back. What do you think?”

You felt relief immediately wash over you. “I’d like that…”

He wasn’t yours and you weren’t his. You were friends, ones who acted more like lovers than the latter. The two of you hung out and laughed together. You did homework together and made snacks together and have movie nights at your apartment. Those nights would often end up in bed, tangled in your grey sheets.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter f i f t e e n

Carly was seated cross-legged on your couch, a beer on the coffee table in front of her when you handed over her plate of lo-mein. She showed up with a smile, not the kind that seemed disingenuous or fake. She’d already texted along her order and said she was excited to see Alyssa, too, who was now cursing under her breath as she tried to balance her plate on her lap. 

“We need a bigger kitchen table,” she said, chopsticks held between her teeth as she gathered her hair on top of her head. “For when we have company.”

You took your seat between them both, a sigh escaping your lips when you sunk into the cushions. You had know idea how this would go, but you figured it was good practice for telling Whitney. 

“You can sit at the table if you’d like,” you reminded Alyssa--who made a face in your direction once she secured her hair into a bun. 

“And miss the spilling of the tea? No way.”

“It’s not tea,” you tried to dismiss her. 

“Oh don’t be so nonchalant. Just tell her,” she motioned in Carly’s direction, who’s eyes widened when you caught her with a mouthful of noodles. “She sees through you.”

She struggled to swallow but then laughed. “I do. Spill.”

Another sigh. You took a bite and let the silence simmer in the room. Your day at work had been long and busy, your feet hurt from walking the entire way home, but you’d hoped that the fresh air would clear your mind. It didn’t. 

“So--you know that Harry and I are friends.”

She nodded, pulled her knees up to her chest and took another bite of take away. 

“And that I’m writing this story about him for work.”

Another nod--now her eyebrows were furrowed as if she didn’t know where you were going with it. 

You paused--realizing that you also didn’t know where you were going with it. 

“They were doing it for a while,” Alyssa said it quickly, her eyes glued to you when your head swiveled quickly to see her. You pulled a face--Carly seemed to look at you with wide eyes. When you turned back to her, a wave of insecurity flooded through you. 

“What? Why are you making that face?”

“I just--I dunno--I suspected it but I’m still surprised.”

“Why?” Your voice was smaller, tinged with the low self-esteem that had always lingered. 

“Well, because he’s Harry Styles,” she said, her eyes getting wider when she spoke again. “I never thought I’d meet him let alone know someone who’s having sex with him.”

“Well it’s past tense,” you clarified. “Was having sex. Not any more.”

She let out a laugh, a sympathetic look crossed her face before she reached to take another pull from her beer. “Can you just give me actual details and explain what the hell has been going on?”

You let out a groan, letting your head fall back against the couch when you closed your eyes. “It was nothing at first--I mean, like I told you. We’d been friends, we lost touch, reconnected, the usual.”

“Yeah but at some point someone decided that intercourse would spice it up,” Alyssa let out a chuckle before she set her plate down. Carly laughed too, her eyes still on you to give her more information. 

“I guess I just always liked him,” you admitted, shoulders slumping when Alyssa dumped more food on her plate from the white box in front of you. “But I didn’t think anything would happen--I mean, I just thought he was being friendly when he invited us to that show.”

“So when did it change? When did it become more than friendly?” She laughed a little, surprisingly calm when you twirled your fork in the heap of noodles in your bowl. 

“Basically when we went home for Christmas.”

“So when I came over here and we watched basketball you were jumping in bed with him after?”

Alyssa stifled a laugh--mostly because she knew that was the first time he slept over.

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “We--well, when we were home for Christmas and New Years he kissed me. And then we came back and things were obviously, you know, different.”

“So I’ll take it the fight wasn’t about wine--which, it’s not like I ever really believed that.”

You pursed your lips, guilt settling on your cheeks in a flushed red. “The reason we aren’t hanging out any more is because he was seeing someone else.”

“What?! Who?!”

Your stomach dropped at the look on her face--one of excitement, not concern for a friend. You wondered, for a second, if it was your place to divulge who Harry had been cozying up next to in restaurant booths before it was you. 

“Some model,” you said, Alyssa let her beer bottle connect with her mouth before she offered a small smile in support of your vagueness. 

“Fuck him, honestly. You two are a match made in heaven and he fucked it up.”

Carly blew right past her support, still trying to gather information. “Was it that Nina girl? From that last Coach campaign with the scarves?”

“Well, I don’t know about the campaign,” you said. “But yeah--they were seeing each other for a bit.”

“I knew it,” she said, her eyes flickering up to the ceiling in thought. “I wrote an article about the time they got dinner but then I never saw anything more. That was like, right before the holidays.”

Her words brought a sense of relief to you. If anyone was going to be up to date on who Harry was dating, it was Carly. She reached for a napkin on the table and wiped at her mouth. “So what’s the plan with Whitney, then?”

“My story’s due Friday,” you told her, an air of defeat in your voice. “I don’t really know what to write about, I mean, other than the truth.”

Her eyes went wide. “Like--the real truth?”

“At least the I’ve known him forever truth. Not the sex truth. And if I get fired, then, I dunno. I guess I’ll figure it out. But--I can’t, I can’t keep lying to everyone.”

She nodded, ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh. She seemed to let it sink in, much calmer than the time she found out you knew him at all. Less angry than the other day in the office. The glow of the telly filled your apartment and when she left that night, she smiled. Let me know if you need me to proof anything. 

**

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. He’d told you to wear a dress--a nice one--and he said you’d certainly get free dinner and drinks. As if that would convince you to come. 

As if it had to be a real reason, at this point. Like the rules had been set and somehow, you were breaking them. But what you didn’t tell anyone--not even Alyssa--is that he could have asked you to come over and watch him fold laundry, and you would have gone.

You begged Roger to blast the aircon in the ride over even though the city offered a brisk wind, the nerves and the uncertainty getting the best of you in the back leather seats. This time you wore your own dress, one that was black and down to your ankles, a slit showed off your upper thigh in a way that Alyssa promised was enticing but not slutty. 

A text from Pat on the way there made your breath hitch in your throat--fingers hovered over the screen when the notification popped up. 

Pat Martin (6:47pm): Dinner one night next week?

You ignored it for now. When the lift deposited you into Harry’s flat, his eyes trailed you up and down. 

“Alright, don’t look at me like that,” you said, failing to add the thought that followed. If I know that you still feel that way, we’re hopeless.

“Sorry,” he stepped aside, the door shut behind you and you shoved your hands into your coat pockets. “You, uh, you look beautiful.”

He turned to find his wallet, let it sink into the pocket of his trousers when he turned around to face you again, a smirk still plastered on his lips. Roger had practically sent you up to fetch him, a laugh from the front seat, he’ll hurry up for you! Always drags his feet when I need him. 

“Why do you need me to come to this, again?”

The doors to the lift opened once more when Harry summoned it, you climbed inside and he cleared his throat. “Just, uh, kind of a big deal--the dinner, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Just is, Smalls, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to overstep a boundary that was likely needed. If anything, you figured you and Harry needed more boundaries, more clarity around what you could and couldn’t do. 

So you kept enough space between you in the backseat of the car, eyes tracing the water droplets that raced down the window. You kept enough distance when you trailed behind him into an event space somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, stilettos already digging into your feet.

He’d kept the conversation light in the car--let you know that he had fun with everyone and was excited to have the gang back together soon. He said he was excited for the tour, hesitation in his voice when you asked how long it was. 

_All summer, _he said. I’ll be back in early October. 

You pretended like it wasn’t weird to be by his side, a glass of red wine in your hand when someone from his management team greeted you by the wrong name. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, an apology under his breath when he pulled you away. “He’s a dick--that’s not, I don’t know who Emmy is.”

You hoped he wasn’t lying. 

So you left him alone for the most part, texting Alyssa from the bar with periodic updates. No he wasn’t flirting with you, yes you were sure. You’d put the pieces together and figured out that this was some sort of going away party that the label was throwing before Harry left for tour and pushed the thoughts of why does he want me here out of your head. 

After a check of social media to ensure that all was still quiet, he stumbled back towards you, introducing you to someone you’d already met earlier in the night. His arm snaked around your waist and he bragged to the label exec that you were one of his best friends. Isn’t she beautiful?

His manager eventually wandered over, hoping to persuade the champagne-fueled boy around your waist to head home. “M’fine,” Harry laughed. “I can reel it in--I think,” he laughed when he went to lean on a table, barely catching his footing before almost toppled over. You held onto his elbow, offering Jeff a nervous smile when Harry leaned his head on your shoulder. 

“M’tired anyway, Harry,” you bargained, hand automatically rubbing his back. “We can head home and just call it a night, yeah?”

He sighed, a bit of a groan when he looked between the two of you. “Fine, we can go home. But I have to have a wee first.”

He disappeared towards the bathroom, weaving through people and servers as he managed to miraculously keep his balance. The lights from Jersey City flickered outside, Jeff let out a sigh before he let his eyes find yours again. 

“Everything good?”

You shrugged, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t know him well enough to give him all the details, nor did you know if it was your place. “Good enough,” was the response you settled on. 

So when you fell into the backseat with Harry in tow, his laughter drowned out the radio that Roger had on. “M’sorry that was so stupid. I kept trying to find you so I could make you endure the boring conversations I was stuck in.”

You turned towards him on the smooth leather, barely able to see him in the dark. “You hated it? You seemed like you had a blast.”

“S’the alcohol,” he smirked, his eyes crinkled by the sides. “Knew I’d need a few to tolerate the suits and ties.”

You let out a scoff, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that threatened to take flight. Something about him made you feel like you were both seventeen again, sneaking away from some party in Adam’s basement to watch the stars on the roof outside your bedroom. 

He reached over and let his hand rest on your thigh, the pads of fingers sent a jolt up your spine when his skin met yours beneath your dress. “I missed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t seen you in a bit,” he shrugged, still maintaining a casual tone despite the liquor in his system. 

You let the words hang between you, pretending as if Roger wasn’t listening between the breaks in songs that leaked out of the speakers. 

You swallowed, tugging desperately in the other direction. “I think we, y’know, needed some space.”

He sighed, a dramatic one. One that pulled a giggle from your lips as he slumped in the seat. “I didn’t need space. I was fine.”

“Harry,” you said his name in warning, as if the butterflies had been freed from their cage and any second they’d swarm the backseat and find their way into the night air. 

His fingers still rested on your skin, but when you made eye contact he squeezed a bit tighter, pulling you towards him. The satin of your dress slid along the leather, your shoulder knocked into his before he let his lips press a kiss against it. 

You stayed like that for a while, hands intertwined atop your thigh, buildings passed by the windows as Roger brought you back to Harry’s, not yours. 

Come inside, he smiled, the car slowed to a stop and he was out before you could sit up straight. His palm was outstretched, waiting for you to climb out into the February air. 

“Only so I can make sure you make it to the toilet and not puke all over your flat.”

He rolled his eyes theatrically, dimples appearing on either side of his mouth before he turned to head for the doors. He drunkenly laughed about the night, the worst part was, I’m so glad you put up with, but suddenly, the quiet of his flat on the top floor seemed to blanket the evening. 

He slid his watch off his wrist and onto the console table near the couch. You reached for water bottles in the fridge and then found him staring at the ceiling in his bedroom. Two knocks on the door frame. 

“Got you water,” the words were quiet, nervous. 

He didn’t move. His eyes were closed and he let out a breath, the only sign that he wasn’t unconscious. “M’fine.”

“I bet you’ll beg to differ in the morning.”

He laughed at that, a quick rush of air through his nose--he was soon upright on the bed, palm outstretched to receive the hydration. You handed it over. 

He made a face, a scrunched nose and narrowed eyes. He was on his knees in front of the toilet in a matter of seconds. You stood frozen at the foot of the bed at first, still unsure of where the fine line was between friendship and romance.

But when he called your name--tired and almost weak--you found that the line didn’t really matter. 

“You’re alright,” you said, reassuring. “Do you need to get sick again?”

“No,” he shook his head, reaching for a tissue to wipe his mouth on. He pushed himself up and off the floor, you handed over his toothbrush, ignoring the fact that the purple one you’d bought from a Daune Reade down the block was still there. Untouched, almost a permanent fixture. 

He brushed, sneaking glances at you through the mirror every few seconds. Once he spit and put the toothbrush back in its place beside yours, you followed him back into the bedroom. He tugged open a drawer, grabbing for a pair of sweatpants and almost toppling over. 

You stood awkwardly in the center of the room when he changed, a quirked eyebrow in your direction once he pulled back the sheets. “You’re sleeping in that?”

“No--Harry, I’m not, I can’t stay.”

He was in bed now, his eyes focused on the blanket that he was trying to spread over the duvet, an extra layer of warmth. He brought his gaze up to you. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sleeping here.”

“Oh,” his face fell but he leaned back against his pillow, his eyes trailing over to the empty spot beside him. “Yeah, okay.”

You promised yourself it was the alcohol--his judgment was impaired and his thinking was impaired and maybe his feelings were too. 

“Smalls?” 

You moved closer to him, stifling a laugh when he closed his eyes and let out another dramatic sigh. 

You hummed in response, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“You know what sucks?”

“What?”

“That it’s all my fault.”

“What’s all your fault?”

“If I just realized all of this sooner maybe it would have worked.”

“You’re losing me…”

He opened his eyes, pupils dilated from the booze. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids but I was too daft to figure my shit out. So now it’s too late.”

You didn’t know what to say, you blinked a few times, thankful for the drowsiness in his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, turning over and pulling the blankets up to his face. “Later.”

So you shut off the lights and closed the door, locked up his flat and rode the lift down. You walked home alone and promised yourself that it was just the alcohol. 

You thumbed out a message to Pat when you were home, safe in the darkness of your own living room. 

Y/N L/N (1:03am): I’m actually really busy for the next few weeks, sorry!

You pulled open the document on your computer that you’d been avoiding and stared at the fourteen headlines you’d brainstormed. You counted the words of the few paragraphs you’d written, and eventually, your fingers met the keyboard.

So maybe things with Harry would never be stable. But when you remembered the feeling of his hand on your thigh or his lips on your shoulder, you realized one thing: Maybe you’d never know where the line is or was or should be. Maybe for some people the line is always thin and blurry. Maybe trying to find the line is better than never even getting close to it at all.

**

Half of the office lights were out--that’s how late it was. The noise of a vacuum drifted through cubes, maintenance workers offered sheepish smiles when you made your way to Whitney’s office. She was still there, you had no idea why, but a late Friday night deadline felt appropriate for the churning in your stomach. 

“Hi,” you knocked on the doorframe, she smiled when she looked up from her computer. “Have a minute?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, pushing her laptop away from her a bit. “Come sit.”

“I--uh--I have this,” you handed over a manila folder, thin, with only four pages of paper inside. They weren’t stapled together, separate’s always better, she’d once told you._ That way I can lay it out in front of me when I edit._

You’d written small letters on a post-it, stuck it to the first page inside. Harry Styles Interview. 

She smiled up at you when she pulled it off, eyes scanning the proposed subheadline before the happiness left her face. It was replaced with a furrowed brow, her lips pressed together in a thin line as you watched her eyes move left to right, left to right. 

Her mouth parted, speechless--you guessed she was somewhere near the second or third paragraph. She didn’t put it down or rip it up, which felt like a good sign. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears with each page turn, her fingers peeling the story apart. Her eyes trailed up to you once, quickly back down to your words when she realized you were watching her every move.

You counted the seconds it took her to read it. Stolen glances at the clock on her wall until she set it down on her desk and let her gaze float up to the ceiling. First, she exhaled. “I’m not really sure what to say.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I should have told you and I should have just come clean from the start. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, slow and hesitant. “How could you--why didn’t you just tell me when I pitched it to you?”

You shifted in your chair. “I dunno, Whitney, I guess I just didn’t want to fuck up my first chance to really prove my writing to you.”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “You don’t have to prove your writing--I already hired you!”

“I just wanted to write something real and fun and--not that the lists aren’t fun, I mean, they are--I just wanted to do an amazing job with it but then,” you paused to inhale. 

“But then what?” She looked at you like she didn’t have the slightest idea what was about to come out of your mouth, like you were speaking a different language and she was still trying to put a thousand pieces together. 

“But then I realized I didn’t know how to write about him without just writing about him. For awhile I thought I’d just lie my way through the whole thing and never tell you, but, writing the best story meant telling the truth,” you pointed at the pages on her desk. “That’s the story he deserves.”

She sighed, picking up the first page to peer down at your words once more. She set it down on the desk with uncertainty. “So did you actually go to Los Angeles with him?”

“Yes--everything in there is true.”

“And you’ve known him for how long?”

“Since we were, like, eight or nine.”

“Jesus,” she sighed. 

“And uh, in an effort to be completely honest with you--which feels kind of pointless, now--he and I were also kind of together when I did the interview.” The word crept out of your mouth slowly, awkward pauses laced through your words.

“Together?”

You nodded. 

“Like, romantically?”

Another nod. 

“Alright, well--yeah, I, uh, I need to think about all of this, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah.” You stood from your chair and turned on your heel, wondering how much of your conversation had been heard by the janitorial staff outside her door. Embarrassment flooded your veins, would she tell everyone in the office that you were a liar? Would your name be ruined in the field?

“S’good.”

“What?” 

“It’s really good,” she said, her eyes still glued to the papers on her desk when you turned to face her. “The story.”

You were quiet, unsure of what to say and hesitant to speak at all. She looked up at you and shrugged. “Not that is undoes the dishonesty and lack of professionalism, but, it’s probably one of the best features we’ve ever had.”

You mumbled a quiet thank you, brushed hair behind your ear before she told you she’d get back to you. You wished you could have asked: with what? A notice of termination? 

Instead you nodded and went back to your desk, grabbing your coat and heading for the door before you could ruin anything else. 

**

You got a text from Bryn late on Sunday. Clouds hung low over the city, you only left your apartment for a cup of tea in the afternoon. Saturday had been quiet. Cleaning, reading, a nap--living in a blissful state of denial, as if the city outside of your windows would cease to exist if you stepped outside. 

But now an impending phone call from Whitney felt inevitable. Like a boulder ready to fall from it’s mountainside nest, threatening the peace and quiet you’d somehow created in your tiny apartment. 

It was a group message, just you and Bryn and Jessie. 

Bryn (7:18pm): This just came across facebook.

Bryn (7:19pm): https://bit.ly/36thuW2

Jessie Alby (7:21pm): Literally just saw it...BRILLIANT! How did your boss take it? 

You didn’t believe either of them until you opened the link that Bryn had sent. The Scoop’s website came up on your screen, the headline you’d written appeared in thick, bold, lettering--exactly how you’d written it. 

Your name, a timestamp, and a tiny picture of Harry appeared beside it.

Another message came through on your phone, something from Carly. Then another, Jake. Another, your sister. Another, Adam. You read the interview twice--eyes glazed over as you sat with the feeling that things were now done. 

You only wished that Whitney had given you a decent warning. A swipe over to twitter, damage control. Messages with love and anger and accusations seemed to litter the screen, but one in particular caught your eye. 

You typed back to Jessie and Bryn. 

Y/N L/N (8:23pm): She didn’t even tell me she was posting it! She said she had to think things over!

You pulled the story back up, navigated to the “staff writers” page to see if your name was still listed. Below your picture and right next to Gabrielle’s, your name and title appeared in tiny font. 

You sat frozen for a second, thumbs hovering over the screen of your phone while you contemplated the options. Call Whitney? Ask her why she posted it? Call Harry? Ask him what he thought about it? 

Neither felt like great options--like either way you were getting yourself into a conversation that you didn’t want to have. When your phone buzzed and showed you Jake’s name at the top, you answered it quickly. 

“Hi,” you said, letting the view of him come into focus on the screen. He was somewhere in his flat, the lights mostly off. 

“Just saw the story,” he said. “S’really good, Y/N.”

“My boss didn’t even tell me she was publishing it.”

He pulled his head back, eyes furrowed. “What did she say when you talked to her?”

“Just that she needed time to think, really. She said that she wished I’d just been honest, but obviously I’m a proper knob so I lied and got myself into a fucking shit storm.”

“Well--she can’t be that mad if she published it.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” you sighed. “But either way it’s fine. Now it’s all said and done and I can just move on from the drama and the story and, I don’t know, stay in my own lane.” You looked up at him on the screen. He offered a sympathetic smile and then laughed. 

“Oh, Smalls, you’re something else.”

You looked at him, unimpressed. “What? Why am I something else?”

“Just are,” he said. “Harry told me you two hung out the other night.”

“We didn’t hang out,” you told him. “I went with him to some event and he got really bloody drunk. Made sure he didn’t die is what I did.”

“He might have been off his face but he remembers asking you to stay the night.”

You made a face. “Does he remember saying that it’s all his fault?”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t expect that. You were both quiet for a moment. 

“Sometimes I wish he didn’t even reach out in December, you know? I know we all missed him and what not but--I dunno, it’s been a mess since then. And the whole Nina Winters thing didn’t help.”

“Smalls,” he let out a laugh and rubbed at his face. “I have something to confess.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jake, what it is?”

He laughed again, tried to straighten his face when you narrowed your eyes at him. “I knew that he was seeing Nina, but just hear me out!”

Your heart nearly stopped, but the smile on his face told you this had to be good.

“He mentioned it in passing, like, when they met in the fall. It really didn’t sound like anything serious. And eventually, after a few dates with her, he said something about it was off. This was before he talked to you--to be clear.”

“He said something was off?”

“He said he wanted whoever he dated to feel like his best friend.”

You were quiet for a second, still staring at him as if you were waiting for him to say more. “Then he said he missed you.”

And just like that, Jake handed over the last puzzle piece you’d been missing. The one thing that seemed to throw the whole picture off, make sure that nothing could really align. 

“So that’s why he reached out to me?”

He nodded.

“So let me make sure I understand you.”

Another nod. 

“You knew he was dating Nina Winters because he told you. Because you’d all maintained some level of contact with him for the last two years but you didn’t tell me because I was too embarrassed to even talk to him.”

“Yes.”

“So he reached out to me because he missed me? And dating Nina for a second made him realize that?”

“I think dating Nina made him realize that no one would ever be you.”

Another pause. You thought back to the night when he first met Carly. 

“I, uh, spoke with our friend Jake--I knew Y/N was here but he reminded me, and I hadn’t seen her in a while, so, figured I’d call.”

You tilted your head to the side, he made brief eye contact with you before looking over to Carly. “You spoke with Jake?” It wasn’t a shock, especially seeing as that cover had already been blown.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, a sip of the beer in his hand. “Caught up with him and mentioned the gang. Figured it’d be nice to see you.”

Jake could tell that you were deep in thought, he watched you through the phone and eventually, he let out a sigh. “He’s always loved you, Smalls--I think it just took him longer to realize it.”

**

You had no clue what to expect Monday morning when you set your bag down at your desk. Your cubicle hadn’t been touched--no one had come to clear out your belongings or light your things on fire, which seemed slightly promising.

You kept your head down and eyes focused on your computer, hoping to come up with enough good topics to write about so you wouldn’t have to leave your desk all day. If you were lucky, everyone would just forget about the story altogether and you’d be able to slip back into a state of mild internet fame due to your own self-deprecation. 

As it should be. 

“Hi, can we chat?” Whitney knocked twice on the wall to your cube, a small smile on her face when you looked up. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

She led you through the maze of cubes and back to her office, this time you had to deal with sheepish smiles from coworkers who’d read your story, not janitorial staff who’d heard your lies. 

She shut the door once you were both inside her office, though the glass wall didn’t provide much privacy. 

“So, we published it, obviously, as you know.”

“Mhm.”

“And it’s really good, Y/N. Honestly, it’s a great piece and it’s trafficking better than any other feature we’ve ever done--but, I unfortunately can’t keep you on staff after that.”

You looked at her, both of you stood in the middle of her office as if the chairs would provide a level of nonchalance that neither of you could handle. 

You didn’t respond. You stared at the eggshell white walls and then down at the gray carpet. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N--it’s not that I don’t think you’re a fantastic writer and an amazing person, but--I just don’t think it sets a good precedence, you know? We’re supposed to have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to dual relationships and--”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that. I, uh, I’m sorry, that I fucked it all up.”

She frowned, a deflated breath left her lungs and she crossed her arms. “I just wish you’d been honest--we could have figured something out.”

“Ever since he got famous, people seemed more interested in me just because I knew him--so when I came here and started working, I just wanted to prove myself without his name attached.”

She nodded. “You did prove yourself--and if you’d told me that you knew him, I dunno. Honesty is always the best option.”

A nod. “I don’t blame you for firing me. I deserve it.”

“In a perfect world, I wouldn’t. But,” she paused. “I have good news--I convinced my boss to let me publish your piece with limited rights--as if you were a freelancer. You own the full story and even though it was produced and published during your contracted time here, you can bring that story with you or have it removed from our site whenever you’d like.”

A tiny weight off your shoulders. You wondered what Harry was doing. A meeting, maybe. Grabbing breakfast with Jeffrey. He wasn’t getting fired--you knew that. 

“Thank you, that’s helpful.”

“And I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation. I’ll just, you know, leave out this stuff.”

She laughed, one that caught on the stale office air and found it’s way to you. A small smile on her face when she opened her arms towards you. “I’m sorry I have to do this--but something tells me you’ll have plenty of offers.”

That wasn’t even where your brain was at. Instead, it was high above the streets of New York, wondering how the last few months had accidentally turned into the most adventurous ones yet, how figuring everything out also turned it all upside down.

“And also,” she pulled you back to reality. “I hope things work out between you two.”

“What?”

She laughed, waved a hand as if her words weren’t as serious as they seemed. “Sounds like there’s a bit of history there. Not quite finished, either, right?”

You stared at her--shocked at how her words allowed another piece to fall into place. Collected through your own writing, Whitney’s insight into the situation felt telling and true. And here, in her office, there were no more lies. No more secrets, no more dodging the truth. It was the first time in a long time that you let out a breath and actually felt relieved. 

You nodded, repeated her words. “Not quite finished yet.”

She had papers for you to sign, there was a meeting with someone from HR and by lunch time you’d packed up your desk. The tiny trinkets and your phone cord were tucked away in a box you’d grabbed out of a recycling bin. 

“Don’t forget this,” Carly plucked a photo from the gray fabric, unfolding it to reveal Harry’s face on the other side of Bryn. She laughed, rolling her eyes when she saw who it was. “All that time he was sitting right here.”

You took it from her, a small laugh. “You can keep that,” you teased. “Cut out the rest of us and just stare at him while you write.”

“You know,” she leaned against the desk, watching as you did a final look around for any other forgotten belongings. “Something tells me that I won’t be writing about him so much.”

“He’s got a tour coming up, I’m sure there will be plenty of content.”

“Yeah--I don’t think anything about him will traffick like yours is right now, so.”

You set the box down, pulling her into a hug quickly. “Thanks for not getting me in trouble.”

“Are you kidding?” She pulled away from you and laughed. “If you let me do that interview I’d probably be dead or in jail or--I don’t know. I think it worked out for the best.”

“Minus me getting fired,” you reminded, a smirk in her direction. 

“Right. Minus that.”

You picked up the box again and headed for the lift, she followed suit. “But you’ll be okay--I mean, Gabby said she’d be shocked if you don’t have something by the end of the week. E! News picked up the story, Cosmo tweeted about it, so did Paper Mag and Buzzfeed.”

“Yeah,” you said, a confident nod despite the uncertainty in your veins. “I’ll be alright. I might go home for a bit--take a break. But, it’ll be alright.”

“Let’s do dinner,” she smiled. The doors opened and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the lobby.

“Thursday?”

She smiled. “I’ll bring the wine!”

**

You weren’t dressed for company. Alyssa was on the phone with Owen and you were stretched north, arms reaching for the last packet of crisps in the cabinet above the stove when there was a knock at the door. 

Jesus Christ, you hadn’t the slightest clue who’d be there. Not Owen, simple deductive reasoning. Not Carly--your plans weren’t for another few nights. A neighbor locked out or someone who’d accidentally gotten your electric bill.

You pressed your cheek up to the painted wood, eye gazing through the peephole to see Harry--a baggy coat and a hat pulled over his head. 

You twisted the lock and pulled the door open. “Hi,” you said, eyes flickered down to his hands. Printed paper. The headline in bold lettering. An immediate raise in blood pressure.

“Hi,” he said.

He stepped inside, you shut the door, awkward silence. The clock ticked on the wall and the telly was on mute--a blanket was strewn on the couch where you’d once been before you had a hankering for something salty. 

“I, uh, I really like the story.”

“Thanks,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sorry I didn’t, like, tell you it was out. They didn’t tell me they were publishing it. I think you knew before I did.”

“Oh,” he said, brows knit towards the center of his face. “How’d it go? Talking with Whitney, I mean.”

You sighed, moved back to the couch and sat on top of a throw pillow. “Fine enough, she was kind of understanding, but, she fired me.”

“She fired you?” He said it like the possibility had never crossed his mind, still frozen in the center of the room. 

You nodded quietly, watched as he shrugged out of his jacket. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s really--s’unfair, honestly. It’s a great feature.”

“S’fine, Harry, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

He bit at his lower lip, hung his jacket by the door before he came over to the couch. “I don’t think anyone’s ever written such nice things about me.” A smirk tugged at his lips, a shade of pink was on his cheeks from the cold wind outside. 

You dodged a laugh. “Well--it got me fired, so, don’t get used to it.”

He was quiet for a second, the sounds of New York seeped through the window. He shifted on the couch but brought his eyes back to you. “Smalls, I--”

The door from Alyssa’s bedroom opened, her head poked out and she smiled at Harry, immediately giving herself away. She’d been hoping you’d talk things through, her words a constant reminder of her own hopes. Just give it a chance, he’s clearly in love with you. “Long time no see!” She tugged at the ratty t-shirt she wore, oversized and faded from the wash. 

“S’been, like, a week!” You argued, rolling your eyes at the smirk on her face. Harry looked all too pleased, laughed when you looked at Alyssa once more. “Can we help you?”

“No, no! Just heard a deeper voice--got a little curious. I’ll be in here,” she held up her hands to show her innocence, shut the door behind her, leaving you alone again. 

You rubbed at your eyes, exhausted from the last few months. When you looked back up at Harry, he watched you for a second.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I just came over to say I’m sorry for everything.”

Silence. 

“I’m sorry that I was a shit friend and I’m sorry that I pushed you to tell people when you weren’t ready and I’m sorry that now you lost your job.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. “I’m the one who lied. I’m sorry that I was so--difficult.”

“Yeah, but--I’m the one who turned your life upside down.”

A quiet laugh. “I can’t argue with that.”

He sat there for a second, not saying anything. He tugged at his lower lip and stole a glance in your direction. After another few seconds, he stood. “Well--I’ll leave you to it, just wanted to see how you were doing, make sure you were okay.”

You stood, mirroring his position in the room like you had only moments earlier. He stepped towards the door. “I head out on the road on Wednesday.”

“Yeah?”

A knot in your stomach.

“Yeah.”

He watched you, waiting for you to say something. He scanned your face, a desperate look in his eyes for you to finally cross the line, like he was begging you to come to the other side and stop looking back. 

“Maybe--uh, maybe I can come visit. Seeing as my schedule just opened up.”

He was hesitant, the corner of his mouth twitched towards the ceiling, he somehow knew exactly what you meant. A nod. “Yeah, Smalls, I’d like that.” He stepped forward, then again, and then his hand was on your waist. A spark up your spine like so many times before, like all the times before.

You’re sixteen suddenly, a betraying pulse that you’re worried he can feel when he brushes hair out of your face. Heat in your cheeks like you might get caught by someone’s parents, butterflies desperately trying to break free from your rib cage in the backseat of someone’s car as you drive through town, half drunk and laughing. 

Eighteen now, kissing someone else but wishing it was him. Skipping classes in uni and drinking at dingy pubs, all the while wondering what time zone he’s in and when he might call. 

Twenty, convinced he was just a blip on the radar, nothing more than a teenage fantasy. Telling yourself nothing will ever happen just in hopes of moving on. 

The busy streets of New York are swapped with the quiet ones back home, late nights wondering if he’ll text you back or if he even knows how you feel. And suddenly, back in time, you don’t mind the not knowing. You don’t mind the back and forth, the push and pull, the up and down. You don’t mind the embarrassing moments, the late night take out or relentless teasing from childhood mates. 

You’re twenty-four, a swell of emotion in your chest when he pulls away from the kiss. “I love you,” he says quietly, a crack in his voice. “Sorry it took me so long to say that.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, letting your hands reach down to intertwine with his. “Better late than never.”

**

Floral Suits and Screaming Fans: a 2017 solo album and an upcoming arena tour have made Harry Styles one of the most successful stars of the year, but he’s still the same kid I grew up with. 

Written by Y/N L/N, published March 3rd, 2018 - 3:55pm in Entertainment

There’s a pitcher of water in the center of the table, but it’s not sparkling. There are no beautiful women dressed in togas, offering grapes into his mouth as they fan him with giant leaves. Instead, he sits with his chin in his hand, a beanie pulled down over some escaping curls. He listens dutifully as his manager runs through upcoming tour dates that will take him from Amsterdam to Bangkok, San Fran to Sydney. 

So maybe my expectations were a little out of touch with reality. But forgive me--when my childhood friend left our sleepy town just south of Manchester in the UK, I imagined that the new life he led was lavish and luxe. 

I’m seated across from him at a conference table--somewhere in West Hollywood--pretending like I know what ‘in ears’ are or like I’m not wondering where the sparkling water is. I got offered the chance to interview the boy I grew up with, and in a lot of ways Harry Styles is still the same kid that sat next to me in Chemistry or ate Chinese takeout at my mum’s kitchen table. 

He still laughs really hard at his own jokes and he still has a love for sappy movies, but he’s certainly more worldly than he was back then.

He now knows about cultural customs in different parts of the world, he’s traveled to places I’ve only read about. He’s got awards that line a shelf in his beautiful Manhattan apartment, overlooking the streets below. People all around the world would kill to stare mindlessly at him in this meeting, but the truth is that he’s never been some fantastic and enchanting celebrity to me. Instead, he’s been a friend I’ve had for ages and someone who knows a plethora of embarrassing stories from Year 8 that I hope no one ever hears.

It wasn’t always like this though, if I’m being honest. We waved goodbye to our curly-headed friend like he was going off to war, and in a way, he never came home. There were years when I didn’t see him, save for a picture in a magazine or something on the internet. Maybe a happy birthday text between talk shows and concerts. So you can imagine my surprise when we reconnected on a snowy New York evening and everything felt--well, exactly the same.

He asked me to come see a show of his, I brought my roommate who had a tough time playing it cool and we got Pad Thai afterwards. We caught up and fell back into the same rhythm we’d always had. A few weeks later and my boss brought me into her office. The quest? Interview one of the biggest celebrities on the planet--one she didn’t know happened to be a longtime friend. 

Instead of immediately informing her of my close ties to my newest subject, I kept it a secret. I aimed to undertake a lofty goal: prove that the music and the looks and the charm aren’t what make Harry so special. 

So--how does someone as talented and well known as Harry stay so down to earth? It’s the people you’re around, he says. 

H: In the band, I was constantly around people who would bring me back down if I got a bit of an ego, you know? There was such love between everyone, but it was like a real family. If you’re being a dick, you’re going to hear about it from someone--they’re going to tell you to fuck off, probably.

Was that a good thing? 

H: Absolutely. I mean, it definitely sucked sometimes when someone called you on it, but at the end of the day it’s the only way to keep your sanity, I guess. The last thing you want is a bunch of ‘yes’ men telling you that every idea you have is a good one. I’ve had plenty of shit ideas. 

What have some of them been recently?

H: Probably just that I can go long periods of time without a break. It’s nice to still have my mum or someone say ‘you’re probably too busy.’ Having a lot of the same people around me over the years has been good for that. They know me well enough to know when I’m not being myself or when something’s up.

How do you think you’ve changed over the years?

H: I’ve definitely got a better sense of fashion, which is good! But I think there are a lot of ways I have and a lot of ways I haven’t. That’s probably a better question for you to answer. 

I’d say he’s right. Sure, he doesn’t live in the same house he did growing up and he definitely knows now that those purple trainers he had back in the day were a disaster. But he’s as chummy as he’s always been, offering hugs and handshakes to old classmates we haven’t seen in years when we both make the trip to Holmes Chapel for Christmas. 

He’s bounced in and out of our friend circle--sometimes too busy hanging out with Hollywood’s finest to have brunch--but he says he loves coming home more than ever.

H: Being away obviously makes me miss it more. I don’t know if it’s somewhere I could live now, but being there makes me feel like not much has changed. Which is good, I think, having a place to come back to and reset once in a while.

Going to Costa and seeing people you grew up with is normally a nightmare for most people our age. But you don’t mind?

H: No, I mean, it’s awkward sometimes, I guess, to see people you haven’t talked to in a long time, but it’s always nice to catch up. Even if that means me admitting that I’m sometimes shit at keeping in touch. I try to at least let people know I’m thinking about them and still care--even if I can’t see them all the time. And what’s nice is that most people from home still really treat me like a real person, you know? They ask how I’ve been and what I’m doing, not much different than if I were at Uni or working in London. 

They don’t ask about which celebrities are in your phone or if you can buy them a car?

H: They don’t! I think it’s just that people I surround myself with see me as more than the kid from the X-Factor or the kid from that band. 

They know you’ve got a terrible taste in desserts. 

H: That or they just see me as the loud mouth that sat behind them in school and got told to shut up a lot. 

Which is exactly how I remember it. He was always talking, singing, laughing, a true extrovert who loves to make other people smile. So I guess it’s not surprising that he’s doing what he’s doing. 

He says that being up on stage is a similar feeling to being the class clown, feeling really good about bringing a group of people together however he can do it. But he says it’s a lot different without friends by your side. 

H: It’s definitely been a shift. It’s just me up there now--I get to be more myself. Not that I wasn’t [myself] in the band, by any means, but more opportunity to just be myself. 

To dance around and act a fool in front of a whole room of people?

H: Exactly--but I feel lucky for that, really. I get to do this amazing thing and share music with people and create a space where people can just enjoy themselves. That feels really good. And the prancing is fun too--you obviously know me so well!

But do I? Is it possible to lose touch and then reconnect with an old friend for the interview chance of a lifetime, just picking up where you left off?

A day we spent together in Los Angeles seems to prove it is. 

This is a great beach, a great cafe! He sings at the top of his lungs as we drive down the Pacific Coast Highway, excited to share his world with me. I tag along to the meeting without sparkling water and we have dinner that night with his manager and a few friends. 

I’m shocked by the way his demeanor doesn’t shift. He’s just as goofy in a five star restaurant as he is in my living room or at the beach. The people we’re with don’t treat him like a celebrity, they treat him like a human. One that just happens to be extremely gifted when it comes to writing sad songs.

So I think that is what makes him so special. It’s not necessarily the good looks or the music or the charm (though he’d be proper upset if I didn’t admit he possesses them all). It’s the way he makes everyone feel so comfortable, the way he seems so down to earth despite the sold out shows or the platinum albums. 

And in the time I’ve spent with Harry over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the parts that are lavish and luxe. I’ve seen a fancy airplane and a bathtub so big you could probably put a small boat in it. 

I’ve gotten to see a part of the world I’d never been to, I’ve eaten delicious food and gotten to laugh about some terribly unfortunate haircuts that happened in Year 5. 

But getting a taste of the good life wasn’t the best part. The best part was eating take out in my shoebox apartment and getting acquainted to the world my friend now calls home. It was realizing that after all the success in the world, he’s humble, he’s grateful, and still remembers how I like my tea. It was the deep and often emotional conversations we had about growing up and growing apart, learning and changing, all for the best. And even though I’ve missed a few milestones, I can tell he’s settled into himself, nestled snugly between boy next door and bonafide rockstar.

So maybe Harry Styles has never been some fantastic and enchanting celebrity to me, because he’s fantastic and enchanting for a thousand other reasons.

come talk to me about tytl

AN: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who has read and cried and loved these two as much as I have. This has seriously been the most fun story to write because so many of you were so invested!!!! Chapter 1 of my new story, unplanned, will be posted soon! 

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse  @castawaycths​ @harryspirate​ @wanderlustiing​ @ursamajor603​ @thurhomish​ @omgsharry​  @stepping-into-the-light​ @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey​  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  @a-woman-without-a-plan​@awomanindeniall​ @shaw-nm @staceystoleyourheart​ @ohprettylittlemind-deactivated2 @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life2​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​  @craic-head-horan​ @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry​ @at-least-im-1​ @paigemck00​ @rawmeharry​ @pinkpolaroidgirl​ @blackxxmagicc​ @sksspotkitty @nearbyou​ @kalesouffle​ @sunnflowerchild​ @lmk12310 @sing-me-a-song-harry​ @afterstylesmadeit​ @myhat​ @caritocp​ @liquor-and-intellect​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas​ @daydreamsofh​

[infinityactual]

Hm so, Botant In Space isnt really holding my attention, so I might jot down ideas for Infinity Week.

I know they're gonna all be Lasky-centric (who didnt see that coming), and I also want to include him interacting with Palmer, and maybe my old lady noodle, Vusa 'Ranam. Might also see if there's a prompt that fits how I headcanon Lasky deals with Lekgolo (hint: he doesn't) and maybe touch on his experience as an aviator.

I still dunno if I can wedge the slutty duty uniform in there anywhere...maybe I'll do it Just Because.

[antagonisms]

@herwildwhisper

There’s a girl across the counter that looks strangely familiar, and looking at her makes something warm flutter in his chest. He wants to go over and make small talk, but she doesn’t look to be in the mood for that. And she’s not why he’s here, anyway. He’s here because he doesn’t know where the pocket money Diego gave went, but at least there’s guys at Last Drop who are rich and stupid and are willing to empty their wallets for the first pretty face to smile and nod and pretend to care about the dumb shit they were saying. Finding a target is easy enough. There’s a lanky man with red hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a half-slouch that betrays some sort of repressed insecurity, and he’s got a shirt that says ‘EAT THE RICH.’ So Evan walks over. He smiles and says he likes the guy’s shirt, and the guy’s like ‘Yeah, eat the rich, right?’ to which Evan replies ‘Yeah, like, I’ve literally done that.’ And the guy’s like, ‘Literally?’ Evan flashes him a sharp-toothed grin. ‘Literally.’

The guy orders them both drinks. He starts talking about socioeconomic inequality or whatever. Starts to brag about how he’s a film student who got invited to the 2019 Cannes Film Festival and got to watch the film that won the Palme d’Or or something. This is the part where Evan inserts several strategic variations of ‘Wow, that is so interesting,’ between the rare moments that the man gives him space to reply. It’s getting really hard to pay attention, but Evan’s got at least enough energy to smile, nod, bat his lashes a little bit, and sip on his cocktail straw in a way that alluded to a blowjob without being too obvious or slutty about it. The guy says something something upward social mobility and something something capitalism and then something something... noodles? ...basements? Architecture? Whatever, Evan’s drifting off, and it’s not like this guy’s going to care about his input—

“So what do you think?”

The unexpected question drags Evan out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

The lanky guy smiles and says, “Whats your opinion?”

What’s this guy doing, caring about other people’s opinions? That’s so unlike his species. “My opinion on what?”

“What’s your opinion on Parasite?”

Evan blinks. “I think,” Huh? What? Huh? “I think tapeworms are pretty bad?”

The guy narrows his eyes, looking confused and annoyed. Jesus, are you high? ( I’m not, I swear. ) You literally haven’t been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying. ( I was. I just spaced out, I guess. ) Whatever. I’m out. And he disappears into the crowd, leaving Evan alone with an unpaid-for margarita while the bartender looks at him, palm stretched out, awaiting a payment Evan knows he doesn’t have. He reaches for empty pockets and gives the bartender a half-panicked ‘Hang on a second,’ before making his way over to the girl across the counter. 

“Hey,” he greets. Why does he feel like he knows her? “I know we’ve just met but — I’m in a bit of a bind and could really use some help.”

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

I'm not ready to say goodbye to him again, even though I know it will be spectacular

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Please do not reblog

You know, sometimes it’s a little interaction that makes you realise that you don’t need someone in your life.

Like, I keep recalling in the last few days how I had a ‘friend’ in the past who was always there when they needed me, always talked over everyone, and changed every topic to be about them. It was very tiring when you review interacctions with hindsight.

Now the thing was, this person had gone to live in the city for college, and when they said they were coming back for a visit, a bunch of people made themselves available to have time with this person. We were supposedly ‘best friends’ or thereabouts, after several years, and so I pushed an urgent assignment to the side...

So, they came. People flagged off from the group after the first 45 minutes as they held forth about themselves... and themselves.

[On a prevous visit, they had brought a new boyfriend and, as a 20+ thought it was Hilarious, to just say things like, “Let’s make-out and see if we can make (usually me) uncomfortable” while we were in public. So everyone had a relatively high tolerance for their shit.]

After wandering the main street for some time, and refusing to go see the movie we were all going to see as per the plan, everyone but like two others left. Smiling and ready to Go.

Okay, fine. Change of plans, whatever. We could have fun talking, right? But one of the others notes that too much time has been spent wandering, and the friend had to catch the shuttle back to the city like, in twenty minutes.

Can you get them to hurry? No.

Do they walk into Every. Damn. Store until the entire group is anxious about them missing it? Yeah.

But, and here’s where the shit hits the fan, they go into one of those trendy stores that sells shit with like, Harry Potter and Fortnite and Pickle Rick on the shirts for ludicrous prices (but only if your understanding of sizing is ‘god help you if you’re over a medium).

So, the other too are anxiously waiting outside and I’m standing next to them, talking and hoping they’ll hurry up. They fetch out some strappy white singlet thing and smiled, before loudly announcing to the store at large, “Oh, this is cute! Hey, if I get a size up (Aus 8), we can share!”

And that’s when I saw the look, the straight up bitch in those eyes.  This size 6, was proposing a then size 16 would fit if they only got a size 8; and everyone in the store took a look at us like, ‘Yeah, right.”

And that’s when your brain pulls a full-on flashback episode to all the times you get a half-insult/half-compliment about your clothes or hair, or a ‘size isn’t evrything’ with That Look, and how everything you do is Good but not like... On Their Level of Great. And how they always complained about being Too Fat around you, and not the other, say, skinnier friends. How they loudly asked you personal questions in a public space to put you off kilter.

You dismissed it as having been put in front of audiences since they were little, of projecting or being a little weird because they were used to being the centre of attention for years and didn’t like sharing it... 

But then it’s like, “Well why should you have to put up with that?”

--------

In short, the snide comments aren’t playful friendly banter; sometimes they’re snide comments, and they’re coming from someone who depends on your loyalty and friendship never wavering no matter what they do. There’s a point where you have to just... tell them to fuck off. 

Be polite, when you interact in public, courteous. Give them no reason to bitch about you, but make it clear that whatever lopsided relationship you had, it’s gone now. 

And this goes double for family and romantic partnerships.  If they’re always on your case about something, putting you down to get what they want or to feel better? Red Flag lads.

------

I just keep thinking about that, recently.  How many little flags got lost along the way to that tiny little interaction that put everything else in perspective. 

Adulthood is the experience, ability and confidence to recognise when some shit’s not right, and straight up cutting off the offending party. Not everyone gets forgiveness, or undying loyalty, or an explanation.

If you have someone n your life that you think might fit this scenario, but you’re on the fence... ask yourself:

+what is it they say that upsets me? Say, do, not say. Maybe one of their friends puts you down all the time and it’s all ‘just a joke’. Your friends says you overreact. Or perhaps they’re always hinting you’d be prettier with shorter hair, or that you look slutty with your clevage on display... etc.

+how many little favours have I done for them? Have you been doing little things to help them beyond the scope of friendship? A close friend can help when you’re sick, or watch the kids, or review an assessment before you submit it... but, think back to how much is asked of you.  What happened last time you asked them for a reasonable amount of assistance with something, big or small? Did they say yes and not do it, did they do it, did they do a shitty job so you’d never ask again, or did they refuse?

+when was the last time they initiated contact, in a situation where they didn’t need something? If you have to answer their call at 3am because they’re sobbing over a long-lost love, but they leave your “hey I’m at the hospital and need a ride home” text on read for a week...  Who does the calling, the texting, puts the effort in? Who remembers birthdays and does christmas gifts and little fun things just because? who is putting all the work into this friendship/relationship/other? Is it always on Their Terms? As in, they tell you when they’re available and you have to clear your schedule?

+is spending time with them fun, an obligation or a chore? Do you look forwards to seeing them, or dread it. Both, maybe?  Do you think “What do they want?”

+Do I have to give up any part of myself or my voice in order to keep the peace around them? You talk about something you want to, and they hush you, ask you not to ‘go on about ...’ or be ‘so political’, or talk over you, or switch the subject. Do they talk about things that make you uncomfortable or push private issues that they have no right to know...? Do they ambush you in social situations, or try to humiliate but call it ‘just a prank’ and downplay feelings as ‘don’t get so serious!’?

-----

+What can I gain without them in my life? Answer: Everything +What am I afraid of if I cut them out of my life?

I will find new friends, new family, new lovers. It will take time, but it is mine and my right to choose.

----

You hear variations of the story a thousand times.

“Oh but they were having a bad day”

“Well, I mean they only could come down on that weekend, so I changed my plans... you know how they get if you don’t see them.”

“It’s lucky they told me that dress made me look like a slut, or I’d have gone to the party in it...” 

“They’re right though, I am fat. I shouldn’t have had the dessert...”

“They only said it because they care.”

“They must have been busy when I called...”

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, they needed to talk to someone... but they ran out of mobile minutes before I got a chance to tell them whats going on for me,”

etc.

Realising I could say what I wanted and choose friends who valued me for me, was a pivotal point in my life. It was some years ago now, but it was important. 

And I see a lot of stories from some of you, on my dash, talking about people just like my ‘friend’.

Sometimes they’re a ‘best friend’, sometimes they’re a partner, sometimes they’re a sibling or parent or cousin... and you just need to hear that the shit they pull isn’t okay. You don’t deserve that.

A real friend will mention to you, in private, if they’re concerned because you seem to be really flat lately, or tell you flat-out f pants you’re trying on do not suit in the Least. And help you find something better.

An asshole, wll tell you the pants look Great, because they like to see you looking goofy, and therefore making them looking better. They’ll ask you loudly, in public, why you look so fucking pathetic and ugh, have you showered this week?

A very close friend who also has epression, and Gets It, might say “Get in the fucking shower or I get the hose...” and then cook you both 2 minute noodles.

A shitty person in your life would bring it up All The Time as a weapon. eg. “Oh so you’re too Sad to do the Dishes now, huh?” or “You’re just not trying hard enough” or “You could lose weight if you’d stop laying around like some snowflake” etc.

---------

I forgot where this was going.

Please don’t reblog. And don’t stand for this sort of shit.

They ush a lot of little things before they get bold, and some people don’t see those flags until the big red sailboat hits them headon without any pretence of turning aside or stopping. So like... cut people out of your life, prune the family tree, find a way forwards by dumping the deadweight.

You got this.

[orangememory]

The one where Jingyan gets a Tramp Stamp

Don’t look at me - this is a Langya Hall friends episode, brought to you by Discord chat, my sad attempts at crack and humour, and Lin Shu not being subtle in any fucking way. Be warned for historical inaccuracy and utter trash. 

Lin Shu knows he likes Jingyan. I mean, in a very cousin brother-ly, best friend-ly way, hugging tight while bedding down together every night-ly way of course. Some say that he should protect the Seventh Prince in a liege-servant-ly way as well, but fuck their entrenched ideas of hierarchy.

Jingyan is a strong boy, he doesn’t need any protecting. (Except from Nihuang and Dong-jie and Auntie Jing who can hand all the boys their asses on a shining, golden platter and their victims will still say thank you afterwards.)

But as they grow older, Lin Shu finds his notions of ‘Jingyan doesn’t need protecting’ increasingly challenged. It particularly perplexes him once Jingyan’s voice breaks - because even though the seventh prince is still gangly and pimply - men and women start flocking to him like he’s the last tasty morsel on this planet. Women start dropping their hastily-embroidered handkerchieves around Jingyan, and men start listening to Jingyan’s boring discourses with rapt attention, inching ever closer to him, till one offensive asshole is almost in Jingyan’s lap one day and Lin Shu almost bursts a vein and a pimple reigning in his anger.

(It’s that annoying, slutty Lin Chen who is visiting the Lin Manor with his dad - and Lin Shu hates all of him just as much as he likes Jingyan. The flowing hair and the flowing sword movements - and the rather unsubtle gestures with his tongue and cheeks and hands which imply...pleasurable activities he wants to undertake with Lin Shu’s Jingyan - which is never going to be possible because Lin Shu would roast Lin Chen slowly over a fire if he ever got that close to Jingyan.

But Lin Chen did get that close to Jingyan, and Lin Shu almost killed him before he remembered his dad and Uncle Lin would whoop his ass. Lin Shu likes his ass very much, thank you, it’s a good cushion for Jingyan’s legs to rest at night when he wraps them around Lin Shu while bedding down together.)

Lin Shu manages to only put an itching powder in Lin Chen’s bath and fend off all the men with the butt of his sword, but there is only so much a Young Marshal like himself can do about the rest of the fanboys and and girls.

So he spreads rumours of Jingyan having horrible ailments, diseases of the skin, the genitals, nasty warts and a crude disposition. The bride/husband price for an Imperial Prince soon goes waaaaaay below average, but there are still people thirsty enough to lust after Jingyan - mainly because of that fucking velvet, suddenly-erupted baritone voice, and somewhat because an Imperial Prince will still be rolling in cash.

Lin Shu cannot take this. He thought he had all his bases covered when it came to keeping Jingyan’s virtue intact. He even slept and bathed and dressed with Jingyan for god’s sake, so sneaky interlopers like that itchy Lin Chen could not intrude on Jingyan’s personal space. It was at this time, Lin Shu decided it was time for a more permanent solution.

I mean, if he somehow marked Jingyan with something that would keep all these suitors away - a light scar on Jingyan’s face would be painful and excessive, maybe some mark across his chest or hands? Some kind of lettering just like in all the painful, somewhat porny soulmate AU reworkings of popular novels sold at seedy bookstores?

*Boom* That’s when an idea clicked in the mind of the extremely well-read (in porn, at least) Young Marshal Lin Shu. Lettering, a mark - it would not be something the Great Confucius would like - injuring the body your parents would give you. It was only done to criminals and slaves - and sometimes by the ladies and gentlemen of the night for better eyebrows and lips, but a tattoo would solve all of Lin Shu’s problems! Jingyan would bear this mark forever, and everyone who tried to get close to him would know not to mess with Young Marshal Lin Shu’s property.

Wait, Lin Shu wondered, When did he consider Jingyan his property? (Ever since you tried to eat Jingyan by biting on his cheeks at Age two and called him ‘mine’ of course, you idiot). The Emperor would be furious if he ever found out and probably charge even his favourite nephew with treason for daring to call an Imperial Prince his property. Lin Shu wonders for a wild moment if he should wait till Jingyu-ge becomes Emperor (so that he would only be maybe flogged a 100 times and lose feeling in that butt that warmed Jingyan’s legs) - maybe offing his Uncle gently and early would help? Nah, still treason and heartbreak for Jingyan - out of the question, then.

Wait - would Jingyan even agree to this madness in the first place, Lin Shu realised? Sure, he was destroying any hopes for any future possible consorts but Jingyan always went with whatever Lin Shu said - even destroying his principles of brotherly piety when Lin Shu had poured dung into Jingxuan and Jinghuan’s shoes for calling Jingyu-ge a fool. (Although Jingyan’s face may have turned redder than his robes and he may have sniffed back a tear because he liked being irritatingly righteous, not underhanded.)

Exasperated, Lin Shu realised he had too many questions and doubts. The problem of being the most radiant boy in Jinling came with the natural problem he tended to overthink things. Lin Shu thought of applying the great strategic books he had read to this case, but ultimately got distracted by his sordid novels. Again. So he decided to follow the simplest route.

Jingyan was his - at least in all the ways that was not spousely duties. So Lin Shu would use a caveman approach - knock Jingyan over the head (with an intoxicant) and ask him for his opinion on having Lin Shu’s name written on any part of his body. Sober!Jingyan would probably beat Lin Shu for hours, and lovingly tend to his injuries for days. Lightweight Drunk!Jingyan however, liked spilling his guts, both literally and figuratively.

This was a plan. A very good plan.

This was not a very good plan, Lin Shu realised, as a handsy and drunk Imperial Prince was draping himself all over Lin Shu’s body at the ‘House of Entertainment’ the Young Marshal had dragged him to. They were sitting in public view of many other young noblemen and women, glaring daggers at the clearly not-diseased Prince living his life in his best friend’s arms, singing bawdy love songs in his hot voice, to no proper accompaniments, interrupting the graceful dancers who were just giggling in a corner.

If he was sober as well, Lin Shu would have picked up and carted Jingyan off on his back, but then he was not, and Jingyan would occasionally hotly whisper a line of said bawdy love song into Lin Shu’s ears, before suddenly changing tone and screeching the next line loudly to the angry audience. It made Lin Shu burn with anger because who had put such salacious innuendos and songs into Jingyan’s mouth? (It better not be that pretty Zhanying or that cursed Lin Chen, they would pay with their dicks). And how dare those sinful words make everything north and south of Lin Shu’s belly tingle and start to grow uncomfortably hard?

Lin Shu’s delightful ponderances and troubles, which were squirming deliciously in his lap, were interrupted by an unceremonious booting by large men outside the doors of the fine establishment - to loud curses from Lin Shu, of course. Wobbly, tingly and disoriented,  with a craving-human-contact pimply-faced Imperial Prince to take care of, Lin Shu was pissed at himself. His plans never failed, but here they almost did. He half-carried, half-dragged the object of his ridiculous best friend-ly affections across the streets, finally flopping down near a questionable establishment for some noodles.

Jingyan fell asleep in his gently steaming bowl of broth. Lin Shu sighed, and took him to wash the vegetables out of his finely, silky imperial hair, that Lin Shu would comb and braid for Jingyan everyday. This.was.not.a.god.day.

“Xiao Shu,” Jingyan drawled in his drunken haze, “Xiao Shu, do you know you and I make a pearl? You’re my pearl and I’m your pearl. You’re my best pearl.”

A pearl? What was Xiao Jingyan getting at? Right now, Lin Shu was just a ball of half-drunk exasperation and self-loathing at his failed plans and sad he didn’t even ask the question that he needed to ask Jingyan.

“Xiao Shu, do you know we make pearls together? My Yan, and Your Shu. Xiao Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....”

This Jingyan came with extra cuddliness, so he wrapped himself tight around Lin Shu’s abject failure and misery and made it all better, no matter the strands of greens in his hair. Sighing, Lin Shu jumped into the snuggle, and let his best friend’s words filter into his brain. Shu, Yan and a Pearl.

A bolt of lightning struck him! Of course! Of course! Why had he never thought of that? Lin Shu was the most brilliant boy of Jinling, and yet the biggest water-buffalo of Jinling had figured out this connection?

Dammnit, this was becoming a good plan again.

“Hey Yanyan, do you think...it’s a good idea to get a tattoo of our name on our bodies? That way everybody will know you belong to someone, and they won’t marry you! No treason as well.” Lin Shu’s reddened eyes glittered with mischief.

“Of course, my pearl. Anything you say.”

Success! Success! Success! Lin Shu was not a failboat!

But... where would one find such a place at this hour?

Lin Shu was not the luckiest boy in Jinling for nothing, for the second angry propietor of the day had come to find his errant customers doing questionable but brotherly things as he was assured, against a wall. He had heard their entire conversation - would they be interested in the ‘Ink Shop’ upstairs, run by his friend? Very discreet, he said. They even catered to spies!

This story is already long and winded-enough, so let me condense this part by telling you where Lin Shu and Jingyan walked up some stairs, found a woman with needles as sharp as her eyes, who gave them some strong alcohol to drink and drew a beautiful, lifelike pink pearl, floating in blue seas above Jingyan’s butt crack and marked an extra ‘Property of Zhu’ written above in red to make the fact more apparent. And no treason!

“My preciousssssssssssss.....pearl,” Lin Shu hisses with an odd emotion and drunken glee as he traces the lines on Jingyan’s hips, and the mistress of the shop looks at him with a mix of mirth and pity. (She later does get pissed though, when Lin Shu asks her for a discount because her fees are too expensive. She kicks them out of the shop after she wrenches out a jade pendant from his belt. Lin Shu wonders if he can recruit her for the army.)

Lin Shu’s plan is finally, excruciatingly accomplished.

Struggling, they somehow make it back to Jing Manor, where Jingyan wakes up with no memory of the previous night and a stinging pain on his lower back. Xiao Shu tells him they fell down some stairs, and then were stung by nettles. Jingyan rolls his eyes at the obviously tall tale, but lets Xiao Shu tend to him carefully over a few days, applying salves across places that made him tingle and blowing cool over it to soothe the skin. (Not to mention, Jingyan may secretly...like Xiao Shu giving him all this attention, especially after Lin Chen had offered to solve the problems of Jingyan’s heart using his Langya Hall analytical expertise and a year’s worth of Jingyan’s salary. Jingyan had felt sorry for the guy when he was itching-powdered by Xiao Shu, but fuck did the mercenary deserve it).

Jingyan doesn’t think much of it after the pain fades, and soon he is to be sent to Donghai. Months away from Xiao Shu, he rues.

“Bring me a pearl the size of a pigeon’s egg,” Xiao Shu asks, a ridiculous request and Jingyan colours because how dare Xiao Shu ask for a pearl so casually, doesn’t he know what it means to Jingyan?

Scared, Jingyan thinks if he blabbed something too much that drunken night. Naaah, Xiao Shu would never let him live it down. Ever. Jingyan would probably find his household decorated in pearls rather glaringly if Xiao Shu would realise why Jingyan liked pearls.

But anyway, Xiao Shu wants a pearl. In a few months, Jingyan will get it for him. And maybe he will tell Xiao Shu the meaning behind it as well. Maybe.

Lin Shu watches Jingyan depart in the early sunrise. He will be back, with fancy pearls! Yes! He can use it to replace the jade pendant on his belt, extracted by that mysterious Mistress of Ink.

He can’t wait for Jingyan to discover his tattoo, the fool. By the time he blows his top, Lin Shu will be far, far away. Well, at least then the world will know Xiao Jingyan with his gangly limbs and velvet voice is taken - he is Lin Shu’s property, in a cousin-brother-ly, best friend-ly way, of course.

*****

Jingyan doesn’t uncover the tattoo until two years after Chiyan, mainly because he was too heart-sick and full body bronze mirrors were luxuries in the battlefield. One day, he is injured across his back, and Zhanying and the doctor are shocked by the rather...indelicate declaration across the Prince’s body parts.

Jingyan is not shocked, but he becomes rather sad and bursts into tears.

Jingyan bursts into tears because of course, this has to be Lin Shu’s doing. He both loves and hates Lin Shu for doing this to him and then dying on him.

Lin Shu left his mark on Jingyan’s body and expected him to live on after that?

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

*****

Prince Jing and Sir Su have been fighting a cold war over the last few days, mainly about some officials to be purged and some policies where they have to take a step back. Xiao Jingyan isn’t a complete fool, but he has above-board solutions to the clearly duplicitous dealings proposed by the Divine Talent.

“Ha, ha, ha! His Highness and Sir Su can always reach a compromise, you needn’t fight like spouses,” says General Meng rather haltingly to soothe their fight, and Prince Jing scratches his head at the obviously strange choice of words.

Sir Su sends Li Gang with a formal apology and invite through the tunnel, and things thaw a little bit in Prince Jing’s heart. Sometimes his strategist has to understand his ideas as well. Well, Jingyan gloats a bit in his victory, and draws things out, promising to meet in a few days when he is not busy.

That evening, Jingyan finds Fei Liu playing in his manor with Tingsheng, teaching him how to steal flowers. Not a very good practice for his imperial nephew, however Fei Liu if nothing, is a good and patient friend to Tingsheng. Seeing them run and play only reminds Jingyan of happier times in his life.

Seeing Fei Liu looking sourly at him, Jingyan feels a pang of pain, and decides to relent a bit and ask after Sir Su’s health.

“Su-gege angry! Then sad! Then coughing! Then angry! Then Sad! All because of water-buffalo!” The boy’s bristling, and Jingyan winces under his glare, while Tingsheng shakes in silent laughter at the old nickname.

“He’s coughing? Is he better now?” Jingyan asks with genuine concern, because of course, he values the strategist as a good friend by now, otherwise why would he even waste his time bickering and making his feelings known on petty matters? Jingyan would never go to such lengths if he considered Sir Su only a tool, he would declare his intentions and just give the man an ultimatum. He feels very sad he has caused the strategist to fall ill, he should pay a visit at least by tomorrow.

“Still coughing! Saying water-buffalo should pull out the pearls stuck in his butt!”

Tingsheng claps his hands over his mouth and Jingyan stills.

It cannot be. There’s no way Nihuang knows this secret.

That fucking idiot. Jingyan will murder him.

*****

Prince Jing arrives in the Su Manor the next day through the tunnel, and makes polite, even pleasant conversation with his strategist. Sir Su’s pinched look is rapidly evaporating, and he even begins lightly bantering with his prince. (I mean, in every universe, Lin Shu thinks Jingyan belongs to him.)

“I was hoping to apologize to Sir Su by taking him for some entertainment on the Spiral Market Street, there are many unique places that will surely pique Sir Su’s interests,” the prince offered calmly over some snacks, earning the arch of an elegant brow and the barely visible gnashing of teeth.

“Your Highness need not apologise to me for such minor matters, now that all is resolved. But I must refuse Your Highness’ invitation, I fear I am but a weak man to enjoy the pleasures of such establishments.”

“Ah, but I insist! There is a special place I must take you to.”

Sir Su’s expression only stiffened further, as he declared with an icy smile, “I did not know Prince Jing frequented the famous area, what specialty does this place offer?”

Prince Jing bit into a lotus seed cake casually, smiling unusually wide and sharp at Sir Su. “I believe they are very discreet. They are known for beautifully inking people’s bodies with art - particularly pearls on people’s backsides?”

Mei Changsu squeaks indecorously and drops his teacup. Jingyan smirks evilly.

“It’s not fair, you donkey. If I get to be your property, then you get to be mine too. Although I plan to be more direct. ‘This pretty ass belongs to Xiao Jingyan.’ How about it, Xiao Shu?”

Mei Changsu squeals (half-in delight of course) as Jingyan pounces upon him.

****

Mei Changsu doesn’t go to the tattoo parlour for weeks after that, because Jingyan ensures his rear-end is nice and stretched and sore in fifty different ways.

Mei Changsu also gets to see the pearl after twelve years, it has held up beautifully, despite the wrath of the artist. He likes tracing it out with unmentionable parts of his body. It’s fun.

When Eunuch Gao finally helps the new Emperor and his treasured Consort, the former Mei Changsu dress up in their Imperial robes for the first time, he nearly has a heart attack seeing the matching and mysterious ‘Property of Zhu’ on their lower backs. (There is also the hint of a round pink thing poking out but Eunuch Gao NEVER EVER wants to know what that is).

“My precioussssss....pearl,” the Consort whispers to the Emperor before giving him a kiss.

Eunuch Gao thinks he should retire. He has officially Too Much Information by now.

[fish-nibbler]

Questions 1-150 *hugs* :3

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Shy

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? Right now? I don’t know.. 

4. Are you easy to get along with? No

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? No, probably not..

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? The  uh.. Butch Lesbian kind.. And the ones that are way out of my league and/or age range. Also, apparently the ones that already have a gf and have no idea who I am...

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? No.. Unfortunately for me.. I don’t think anyone will be able to put up with my shit..

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? The guys who tell me that I’m ugly, stupid, and should kill myself.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Not anymore

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? No one.. People ignore me mostly

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “I’m sorry” -  But hey, what’s new?

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Can’t think of any.. They all make me think of my ex..

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Yes, it’s very relaxing and it calms me down almost instantly..

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? No.. Not anymore..

15. What good thing happened this summer? Nothing. Nothing “good” has happened.. People are telling me to kill myself, my gf left me for someone else right before pride weekend.. All of my “friends” are going on long vacations and I can’t talk to them... I just want to give up..

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? God yes..

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? I guess

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? No.. She uh.. She was pretty abusive..

19. Do you like bubble baths? Yes.. I haven’t been able to take one for a long time though..

20. Do you like your neighbors? No

21. What are you bad habits? Cutting, crying, feeling emotions..

22. Where would you like to travel? I don’t know.. It stresses me out.

23. Do you have trust issues? I did... then I got over it enough to open up to my crush but uh.. yea.. they’re back

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Don’t have a routine anymore other than self-destruction

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? All of it

26. What do you do when you wake up? Cry

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Lighter

28. Who are you most comfortable around? I was comfortable around my ex.. but she hasn’t wanted anything to do with me since she broke it off.. she’s probably ranting about me rn saying that I’m a clingy, annoying, slutty piece of shit that has a mommy kink... she she’s not wrong..

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? No.. But they have said they regret dating me..

30. Do you ever want to get married? Yeah.. But I know it’ll never happen..

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail? Not anymore

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? None

33. Spell your name with your chin. 

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Nope

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yeah.. I try not to anymore though..

37. What do you say during awkward silences? Try to think about something they like to talk about and try to bring it up..

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Patient and loving.. 

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? I don’t know.. I guess anime shops at the mall? Anime Eagle and stuff like that..

40. What do you want to do after high school? I was looking at St. Kate’s

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Yeah

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? It means that I’m really really depressed..

43. Do you smile at strangers? Sometimes..

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Outer Space

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Nothing

46. What are you paranoid about? Everything

47. Have you ever been high? Yes and I desperately want to be high right now..

48. Have you ever been drunk? Not yet

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? I don’t care anymore

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Blue and white

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Yes, always

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Everything

53. Favourite makeup brand? Don’t really wear make-up much but I don’t know.. I guess Elf products are nice

54. Favourite store? Don’t have one

55. Favourite blog? I have a couple..

56. Favourite colour? Lavender and light blues.. stuff like that

57. Favourite food?

58. Last thing you ate? Rice

59. First thing you ate this morning? Uh... Sunflower seeds around.. 10-11-ish?

60. Ever won a competition? For what? No

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Suspended for attempted murder. Some girl told a teacher that I put a sharp pencil to her throat and threatened to kill her. I didn’t... But the school doesn’t listen to kids like me.

62. Been arrested? For what? Not yet

63. Ever been in love? Yeah. And then she tore my heart out and told me that she would be there if I ever needed her.. She hasn’t been there.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? I was in a school bathroom.. perks of being a lesbian I guess..

65. Are you hungry right now? No.. I want to puke

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Yeah..

67. Facebook or Twitter? Neither

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now? No

70. Names of your bestfriends?

71. Craving something? What?

72. What colour are your towels? A very pale Jade Green

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? yes

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

75. Favourite animal?

76. What colour is your underwear? Pink

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? 

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? 

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Pink and White

80. What colour pants? Black

81. Favourite tv show?

82. Favourite movie?

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

87. First person you talked to today? 

88. Last person you talked to today?

89. Name a person you hate? my ex, my first gf/ex i guess

90. Name a person you love? also my ex, but a different one

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? myself

92. In a fight with someone?

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

95. Last movie you watched?

96. Favourite actress?

97. Favourite actor?

98. Do you tan a lot?

99. Have any pets? 5

100. How are you feeling? Like I want to jump infront of a fucking train

101. Do you type fast?

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

103. Can you spell well?

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes, I cried over my abusive-ish ex the other day... at least with her I could pretend I was loved.. pretty sure relationships are suppose to be abusive..

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? no - i want to tho

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

107. Have you ever been on a horse? yes

108. What should you be doing? dying

109. Is something irritating you right now?

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? yes..

111. Do you have trust issues? yes

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? my mom because i felt guilty for eating

113. What was your childhood nickname?

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? yes

115. Do you play the Wii? no

116. Are you listening to music right now? no

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? eh

118. Do you like Chinese food? no

119. Favourite book? dont have one rn

120. Are you afraid of the dark? kinda

121. Are you mean? I’m a completely heartless fuck

122. Is cheating ever okay? no

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? hell no

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? not anymore

125. Do you believe in true love? nope

126. Are you currently bored? eh

127. What makes you happy? I don’t know anymore..

128. Would you change your name? yes

129. What your zodiac sign? aries

130. Do you like subway?

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? fuck him and then leave him because im a heartless slut. haven’t you been paying attention?

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

134. Can you count to one million?

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? 

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? closed, but cracked open for my cats

137. How tall are you? 5ft

138. Curly or Straight hair? ive got straight hair

139. Brunette or Blonde? im a brunette

140. Summer or Winter? both

141. Night or Day? night

142. Favourite month? dont have one

143. Are you a vegetarian? no

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? milk

145. Tea or Coffee? tea

146. Was today a good day? no

147. Mars or Snickers? snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote? 

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

[domitxnate]

Scene Week - Silas and Nate

Who: Nate Lynn and Silas Karofsky @subsilask

When: May 25th - Nate’s room

Class: Denial (Silas)

Notes: TPE day, lots of denial, slut shaming

Silas: Silas raced to Nate's room after class. He'd been held up be a teacher lecturing him on being too distracted during their class and Silas wasn't sure if he was going to beat Nate back to his room at all. He slide to his knees from a run and knocked, panting and praying to himself "please don't answer, please don't answer"

Nate took his time, getting towards his room to see the boy kneeling in front of it. Nate came up to him, running his hand against Silas' hair. "There's my good boy," he said, tugging at the locks. "Didja just get here?" he asked, notcing the slight hitch in Silas' breath as Nate opened the door and let them both in. Nate shut the door and dropped his bag. "Get naked and then you're gonna suck me off before ya start on chores and dinner. I still gotta get a swim in before dinner, so let's no go slow," he said, pulling down his shorts and leaning against the door, waiting for Silas to comply.

Silas: Relief flooded over him as he saw Nate walking down the hall toward him. Thank god. He leaned into Nate's touch looking up with pure adoration. "Yes Sir, I ....had to stay and talk to a teacher and I was afraid I'd be late." He crawled into the door and got naked as always, tossing his clothes into this bag and leaving it by the door. Nate was barely done with instructions by the time Silas' lips parted around the Dom's cock. This was where he'd been needing to be all week. Since Prom, Silas couldn't help but be pulled to this room, wanting to be here more because it felt safe and simple. He bobbed his head, not wasting anytime, slicking Nate's memeber lower and lower with each increasingly deeper thrust until he could get it to slide down his throat. He held his mouth open wide, encouraging Nate to move with him to help speed this along if Nate was in a rush.

Nate hummed as Silas explained his concerns, "Well ya lucked out so I'm glad everythin' ended up fine." Nate waited against the door, watching Silas quickly strip himself down to be naked in front of him and crawl towards him. Nate sighed and moaned as Silas' mouth was immediately around the head of his cock, and Nate's hand in Silas' hair. "There we go. Sir's cock missed a little slut on it. Now suck it nice and fast. We got stuff to do."

Silas: Silas hummed around the familiar length and sped up his efforts. He really needed to talk to Nate sometime to see if he was allowed to use his hands in these situations or not. He started to relax and let the days stresses fall away as he felt Nate stiffen and finally release, proud of himself for being able to get him off so quickly. He sat back on his haunches and licked his lips, looking up a little smug.

Nate was moaning with every movement of the submissive boy, letting Silas do all the work around his cock. It didn't take much time before he felt his orgasm approach and exploded deep into silas' throat. Panting and moaning as he calmed, Nate ran his hand through the man's hair, "good boy," he breathed, making his way over towards the couch to sit down and relax. "C'ere," he called pointing the the space in front of his feet, "all fours," he ordered, lifting his legs to steady them on Silas' back while he gave himself a moment to calm and figure out what was going to happen next.

Silas: Silas swallowed, sadden that he couldn't taste much of Nate. Catching his own breath, he smiled up at his Dom, pleased he'd pleased him. He padded over and smoothly went to his knees in front of the couch, then all fours. His plugged ass held high until he felt Nate's legs on him and he flattened his back to accomodate him. "Um, Sir? I'm sorry, but...may I use the bathroom again soon?"

Nate looked down at Silas, fixing his boxers, "Nah, ya didn't go that long ago, ya can wait," he said as he sat down settling onto the couch with his legs up on Silas. He flipped through the channels a bit, trying to decide what to watch or do with himself for the evening. Finally he took his feet down and pulled up Silas' head by his hair, "Go head up some mac and cheese. There's a large container of it in the fridge. Head up two plates and bring mine out here."

Silas: "But Sir...it's been since lunch, " he groaned. This whole not being able to pee thing was getting out of control. Was he going to watch every time? Was he soon going to be the sub tied to the pole in the courtyard like Robin was today? Nate's feet weighed on his red back and Silas grunted at the dull pain. It was nothing he couldn't power through, but it was a harsh reminder of the scenes this week. He let Nate use him, trying not to focus on his growing need to pee and his hard cock. It seemed like he was always hard around Nate and he wondered if the Dom had ever even seen him soft when he wasn't caged. Suddenly, his hair was yanked and he yelped, eyes trained on Nate as he listened. "YEs, Sir," he said, crawling to the kitchen and digging through the fridge for the mac n cheese. Was that all Nate ate? How'd the swimmer stay so thin? Was that why he swam so much? Silas pondered as the microwave spun their food, then he carefully picked up Nate's plate. The Dom had specifically said to bring 'his' plate to him. Silas looked at the second plate, considering what to do with it, before leaving it on the counter and bringing Nate's to him, kneeling next to the Dom.

Nate looked over at Silas with a raised brow, "Are you questioning me, pet?" Silas wanted full TPE and the trust was, so did Nate. He wanted to know if this was a dynamic they could really pull off in more of a long-term setting. Nate took his feet down, watching Silas move and follow directions. When Silas was next to him, plate in hand, Nate gave him a smile and a hand through the boy's hair, "Good boy," he said, taking the plate from Silas. "Ya may go pee. No longer than a minute and then ya may get ya plate come here and eat it by my feet."

Silas: "I just....no Sir," he sighed, knowing better than to push Nate. He tried not to think about his bladder as he made their food and returned with Nate's plate. Silas leaned into the touch and then with a quick thank you, dashed off to the bathroom. He peed quickly and grabbed his plate, walking back and sitting cross legged on the floor, eating dinner. "Thank you, Sir, for letting me pee and dinner." He'd learned his lesson about not giving proper thanks. "How were classes today?"

Nate started to eat as Silas took care of himself, and was in front of him again very quickly. Nate rubbed at Silas' hair quickly, before returning to his own dinner. "You're welcome, pet. Oh, classes were alright. I felt a little tired all day but I think that has more to do with how exhausted I am from this week," he said simply, "How were yours?"

Silas: Silas nodded with a mouth full of noodles. "Same, Sir. I couldn't keep my eyes open half the day, the other half I was just trying not to lose control....not that I mind, Sir, but I do think my teachers were annoyed at me. One did keep me after and I had to admit to him why I was so fidgety. He laughed and slapped my ass" Silas took another bite and leaned his head back against the couch, looking up at Nate. "If you're too tired to play with your slut tonight, I won't be mad. Maybe... I should rub your feet or arms or whatever gets sore on swimmers?"

Nate gave a shrug, "the instructors know what's goin' on. I mean, they want us to practice real-world things, so we do. Just means ya gotta learn to focus a little less on ya own wants and more on what you're expected to focus on," Nate said, putting some macaroni and cheese in his mouth and shooting the boy a smile. Nate chuckled when Silas told him how one instructor reacted, "Well that sounds about right." Nate looked down at Silas, interested in the slutty-selfless side he was portraying. "We'll see, pet. Night's not over," he said simply finishing up his dinner and putting the plate on the floor. "Shoulders," he said simply, "and thighs. that's was gets sore on swimmers. Finish ya dinner and ya can take care of the dishes. We'll see what you'll do for me after that."

Silas: "It's real hard, though," he said honestly. Trying to focus on the droning teachers lecture when all he could think of was being here with Nate was near impossible, let alone when he had to pee. "I'll try to do better though, Sir..." he didn't want Nate to look bad, and he would, if Silas' grades started dropping. Silas wasn't used to all this slow, domestic stuff, but he did feel comfortable with it. Maybe one day, this would always be their routine. "Right, that makes sense... I could clean them for you. Yes sir, thank you," he said, eating a few more bites and then setting his fork over the plate. It was too rich for him, too heavy, and it filled him up fast. He cleared both plates and washed them, dried them and put them away before crawling back to Nate's side. He waited to see if Nate had more instructions or if he was to be a cockwarmer for now.

Nate nodded, "Well no one said it was gonna be easy," Nate answered, "I know ya will my good boy," he said flashing a smile at the man. Silas set off to follow orders while Nate relaxed on the couch, something he found himself enjoying more than he thought he would. The idea that the necessities were taken care of and Nate could just relax and not have to worry about it. He heard the dishes clanking in the background, letting his mind wander as the TV played in the background. When Silas returned to Nate's side, his hand went into the boy's locks again, pulling and playing with them. "Get me hard pet. Use your mouth, then when I'm rock hard, ride me until I cum."

Silas: Silas knew he'd really try, not just to avoid the wrath of his teachers, but because Nate told him to and Nate was, well Nate was important. Even though cleaning and cooking wasn't exactly what he desired in a scene, it was kind of nice. Relaxing. He wouldn't mind having orders to take care of Nate's suite so the Dom could focus on more important things, in fact, Silas thought he could take great pride in keeping it up...maybe more if there was the promise of sex afterwards. He smiled at Nate's side, happy to be useful, his body clenching around the thick plug still wedged inside him. "MMm gladly, Sir," he smirked, taking Nate's cock from his shorts and starting to suck it. He'd gotten pretty good at reading Nate and knowing what he liked and very soon he had him hard. "May I get on the couch, Sir? So I can ride your perfect cock and make you cum?"

Nate laid back against the couch as Silas began, the familiar sensations of the boy's mouth on his cock, quickly growing in excitement. "There's a good boy, suckin' my cock so good," he moaned. Once he was hard, he moaned as Silas got off him and asked his permission. "Yea, pet. Ya may be on the couch to ride me."

Silas: Silas hummed around Nate's cock, always happy to pull a compliment from Nate. When he was hard, Silas was tempted to just keep going to taste his cum, but those weren't his orders. With Nate's permission Silas climbed up on to the couch, but instead of straddling Nate, he went towards his feet, turning so his ass was facing Nate. On his knees, Silas bend and reached behind him, slowly working the thick plug out of himself, putting on a show for the Dom.

Nate was a little confused after Silas asked for permission on the couch, but didn't take it. Quickly figuring it out, Nate smiled, watching as the plug slowly pulled out of his hot hole. "Look at that," nate moaned, leaning forward, "Look at that gaping hole," he moaned, sliding his finger in and rolling along Silas' walls. "Now get that hot ass on my cock, good boy. Now."

Silas: Silas held his position and let Nate rub his sensitive hole. "Just for you, Sir...you made me gape for you...stretched me all day," he groaned. He backed up and crawled over Nate's thick cock, lining his hole up and slowly sliding down on Nate's hard rod. He barely had to adjust and soon leaned forward bracing himself on Nate's legs and started to ride Nate, giving the Dom a full view of his ass.

Nate moaned softly, "That's right. Just for me," he murmured, "All for me." He watched as Silas backed up, sliding himself down on Nate's hard length, the Dom moaning as he laid his head back on the couch. "Fuck, pet. Nice and slow. I wanna feel every inch bury in your tight ass," he encouraged, placing his hands at Silas' waist, guiding him up and down.

Silas: "For you... " He groaned moving slow, letting Nate set the pace. Every movement felt more intense at this slow speed and Silas cock grew harder. "God Sir...I love how you stretch me out." He sat back, taking Nate deep inside him, tensing and milking his cock, groaning out loud as the tease that was meant for Nate wound up teasing him more.

Nate grunted as Silas continued, slow pushes down on his thick, hard member. "That's right, nice and slow, let that cock stretch ya," he growled. Nate gripped his fingers around Silas waist a little tighter along the meat of it. "There we go. Now faster. Bounce on that cock like it's ya damn job."

Silas: Groaning he sped up, rocking up and down harder and faster. He gripped the back of the couch with one hand to steady himself and bounced on Nate's cock. "ah fuck Sir...fuck...feels so good, Sir." He reached down past his hard cock and massaged Nate's balls

Nate moaned louder, "Yea...yea, so good," he moaned back, trying hard to keep his hips down, wanting Silas to do all the work and earn the cum that was going to fill him. "Yea? tell me how good. Tell me how much ya love that cock fucking your tight ass."

Silas: Silas grunted and worked faster, harder, letting his body fall back hard into Nate's cock each time. "So good...I missed your cock so much Sir...so full...fuck me. I want to feel your cum drip out of me. Wanna plug my ass back up and keep it inside me..have you add to it all night until I'm full. Ah fuck...Sir. So good...Slut's don't get to cum only you, Sir. Tell me how you'll never let me cum Sir!!"

Nate loved hearing Silas turn into a needy, slutty puddle. He was trying to avoid getting Silas to the head space, but he certainly wasn't going to turn it down. "That's right, you dirty whore," Nate moaned, reaching around to give Silas a couple quick pumps of his own bouncing cock before letting go of it, letting it bounce around. "Oh yea? Ya want that slutty ass filled with my cum? Leave it in all night? Hmmm, that sounds good to me, ya little slut. Ya better start makin' me cum then."

Silas: Silas' toes curled and his body quivered. Nate's voice turned him on so much. "Oh god yes, Sir. Please Sir," he begged for Nate's cum. Rolling his hips, he tried something new, rotating his hips to get more of a smooth motion going, urging Nate to cum with his grunts and moans. "Fill your slut up, Sir, please, show me how easy it is for /you/ to cum"

Nate groaned as Silas rode faster, feeling his cock be milked by Silas' tight walls. "OH yes, slut, just like that," he moaned, feeling himself grow hotter and hotter. "Oh god....I'm cumin, slut...I'm cumin'!" he cried out, exploding deep in Silas' ass, moaning hard and loud as his body tensed around it. "Fuuuuuck," he growled, pushing into the sub a few more times to ride out his climax.

Silas: Silas kept the same motion going, and event though his own cock was rock hard, he really was more focused on making Nate cum. He knew he'd never get of tonight and he accepted it. As Nate tensed and groaned, Silas rode him faster, tensing to milk his cock which finally spilled inside him with a few last grunts. He kept his mouth shut, letting Nate ride out the ecstasy. When he felt Nate relax he carefully fell forward, keeping his ass high in the air and grabbed his plug from the end of the couch and put on a show of shoving it back in his used hole, then slipped back down to his knees on the floor. "Thank you Sir," he whimpered, trying not to think about his own aching need to cum.

Nate breathed heavily, burying himself deep inside the submissive as he calmed down. nate watched as Silas fell forward, plugged up his ass again. "Mmm, so nice," he moaned enjoying the view. He pointed down to his cock, "Clean it up, slut."

Silas didn't think twice. He leaned forward on his knees to take Nate back into his mouth, sucking hard to clean off any remaining juices from their escapades. He lapped and licked until Nate grew soft, then relaxed, just holding Nate in his mouth, ever so slightly suckling him.

Nate relaxed again as Silas licked and lapped at the relax cock, cleaning it of Nate's spilled cum. When Silas just sat there, Nate's flacid cock in his mouth, the dom enjoyed that he was warming it as he was told earlier, barely sucking on it as Nate was able to focus on the program he was watching.

Silas relax into his role as nothing more than a chaste cock warmer. He let his eyes drift closed as he sucked so gently on Nate's cock, and after a few minutes he felt himself drifting to sleep.

Nate enjoyed the feeling of Silas' mouth around his cock and letting the moment happen around him. Something fel a little off - not bad, just weird, and he finally looked down to notice that Silas had fallen asleep. If Nate was being honest - it was adorable. And he avoided the jokes about a baby sucking a pacifier that came into his head. "Hey, Prince," he said softly, tapping the boy's head a bit, "I think it's bed time now."

Silas: Silas grumbled around Nate's cock as the Dom tried to rouse him. "Hm? Mggmm," he groaned, sucking harder on Nate's member in protest. He was perfectly content where he was and moving sounded awful. Especially because it meant walking back to his dorm probably.

Nate moaned sharply at the sudden change of sensation, loving it, but suddenly being overly confused, "Wait wait wait," he said, pulling on Silas' hair to stop him. "If you're falling asleep, we're stoppin' this cos I'm fairly sure that fills under nonconsent"

Silas: Silas stopped but grunted at Nate in frustration. He let Nate's cock fall from his lips. "I'm awake, Sir," he protested, "You still have to go swim and I was going to do chores for you. Really I'm fine, it's just...relaxing sucking on you."

Nate lifted his eyebrowns at him, feeling the twinge of sass from the submissive, giving him a soft, yet alerting, tap on his cheek. "Watch the tone. This is about my comfort lever just as much as it's about yours, boy. So if you're falin' asleep on me I'm not really willin' to have ya still suckin' on my cock." Nate took a breath, shaking his head in an attempt to calm down. "Go get my swim bag and bring it to me."

Silas winced at the smack, not that it hurt that bad, but the insult was stingy. "I wasn't being sassy, " he protested, "..Sir." The sub sat up and back on his knees, and tried to wipe the frustration from his face before he crawled off to get Nate's bag in his bed room. With a quick glance at the door to make sure Nate wasn't coming, Silas opened the bag and pulled out Nate's speedo. He grabbed a marker from Nate's desk and wrote on the fabric inside the crotch. "silas is my cumslut" and then stuffed them back in his bag. He carried the bag back out to Nate, groaning as the plug deep inside him shifted and hit his prostate as he walked. He dropped to his knees at Nate's side and handed him the bag. "Sorry I was grumpy, Sir..."

Nate let Silas crawl away and kept them in silence. Nate was feeling a little annoyed and was happy that he was going to get a minute to cool down while he was at the pool. He stood up as he heard Silas crawl out, and gave the Dom his bag. "Good boy," he said, hearing the boy's apology, "It's alright," he said, playing with the boy's hair at his side. "I'll be back by 6. I want 4 edges while I'm gone. Also put my laundry away and vaccuum. That should keep ya busy enough."

Silas: "got it Sir," he chimed, oh so pleased with himself. When Nate changed he'd be sure to see his message and be thinking about Silas the whole time he swam. "Clean and edge. Don't cum. Got it. Be safe please? No drowning." As Nate left he found it very odd to be in the Dom's room alone. "Well then..". He said to himself. He'd better get started. In the interest of fun and fun alone he started by edging. His hand went to his cock but without any porn or anything it wasn't the same. Busting out his phone he pulled up pornhub and got to work. He took his time, enjoying the permitted touching and before he knew it half an hour had gone by. "SHIT!" He jumped up, running to grab the vacuum and quickly running it over the whole apartment. Five o clock. He could do this. He was a little more bold now he jumped on Nate's bed and pulled his phone out again. This edge was less enjoyable in his hurry. Then on to laundry with a stiff aching cock. His folding job could have been better but the clock kept ticking. Half way through the laundry he stopped and edged again because he just had to touch himself. Three down. He had to really focus to not just say fuck it and let himself cum. Nate wouldn't know. He pushed the thought away and put the laundry in its places and then settled into the couch for his final edge. He was sweating and arching his hips into his hand when Nate came home. "Sir! Hi!" He jumped, on to the floor and knelt, his cock dripping like a faucet.

Nate sighed in relief as Silas seemed to take his orders well and without issue, so maybe everything was okay. "I won't drown, I promise," Nate said with a smirk, heading over to the pool. He made quick work of getting over there in order to get his full workout in before he said he'd be back. He almost missed his altered swim attire, trying to get dressed as fast as possible. When he did see it, he chuckled to himself, shaking his head softly as he put them on. The only time he didn't think about the sub waiting for him was in the water - he didn't think of anything during that time. That time was always just for him and was always about the end game and life goals he worked towards. He got out the the pool and grabbed his stuff, quickly heading back to his room. He opened the door to see the boy damn near bouncing on his knees. "Well hello there, Prince. So happy to see me?" he chuckled, running his fingers against Silas' hair. "Did ya do what ya were told?"

Silas' heart raced and he wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't sure if he was allowed on the furniture or if it was because he'd missed Nate. "Yes sir. Of course. How was your swim?" He hummed as Nate pet him and moved closed, practically hugging his leg, his cock gently pulsing on Nate's shin. "Yes Sir all done...kinda feel like your maid...or dog," he laughed.

Nate smiled as Silas came closer, rubbing up against him, "Ya not either, ya my good boy," he murmured softly. "Stand up," he ordered and immediately stroked Silas' cock, "let's see if ya really got all five of those edges I ordered," he said, running the palm of his hand over the head, picking up some precum to use as lubricant, stroking him slow and steady. "Mmm, you're throbbing pet," he moaned against the boy's ear.

Silas: Silas stood and gave Nate an adoring smile. "It was weird being here without you. It's too big." The sub gasped as Nate touched him. "Oh god Sir... I just finished the last one... oh god... fuck...yeah, I'm way too close, Sir. Please. Don't let me cum, Sir."

Nate chuckled, "Well there seems to be lots of big things right now," he joked, still stroking him slowly and fully. Once he heard Silas beg to not to cum, "There's a good boy," he moaned again, letting go of Silas' cock and just standing next to him for a minute, staying close. "Breathe pet. Breathe through it."

Silas: Silas grasped Nate's arm just to ground himself as he took deep breaths to try and calm down. "D-do you belive me now, Sir?."

Nate hummed, "Yea, I definitely do. Seems like ya were a very good boy for me. Now get on your knees. I wanna cum now."

Silas: "Always, Sir. Did you get my note?" Silas smirked and moved to put Nate's cock between his lips. He kissed the tip and hummed, " your cock whore missed you. Use my mouth, Sir, please. It makes me so horny."

Nate chuckled, "That I did. I don't know whether to feel touched about it, or spank ya for markin' up my suit," he chuckled, "But it was a nice little surprise, pet." He watched as Silas sunk to his knees and his cock sucked in between his lips, bringing a moan from Nate's throat. He put his hand on the back of Silas' head to keep it still and pushed onto the cock, thrusting his hips forward into Silas' mouth. "Like that, little slut? Want me to fuck ya throat nice and hard?"

Silas: Silas smiled and then shook his head. "noooo it's cute, no spankings," he protested, nuzzling him. Silas was happy Nate was home and his cock was back in the sub's mouth like it should be. The swimmer's skin tasted like cholorine and not at all like it normally tasted which was disappointing but it wouldn't deter him. Silas groaned and his hips rocked as Nate knowingly teased him with his words. He whined around Nate's cock and opened his mouth wide letting Nate push in deep.

Nate chuckled, "Yea, maybe it's a little cute" he agreed. He moaned loudly, thrusting his hips into Silas' mouth, feeling him suck and gag on him. He pulled out of the boy's throat, slapping his wet cock across Silas' face. "Ya gonna make me cum, whore? Cum all over that slutty face?"

Silas: Silas whimpered. "No, sir bring it back," he begged, saddened at the loss of Nate's cock. "Yes sir! Please, cum all over your whore's face. Leave it there all day. Make me wear your cum, please Sir. Everyone should see that I'm your cum whore," he begged, his mouth still trying to catch Nate's moving cock.

Nate hummed a little, rubbing his wet cock over the boys' face. He enjoyed watching him root for his cock, chasing it with his needy mouth. Nate moaned at the boys' words, shoving his cock in his mouth again. Nate fucked the hole nice and quick a few times, letting Silas' cheeks milk him as he sucked until he was at his climax, pulling out and covering the boys' face with his cum.

Silas: Silas had desperation rising in him as he saught out the cock just inches away, but such a hard target. Finally, he stopped as Nate pressed into his mouth and eventually came hard, unloading on his face. Sila reached up to clear a smear from his eye and licked his fingers clean. "Thank you, Sir for making me your cum slut," he said, his own needy cock dripping almost as much as Nate had cum. "Please, Sir...distract your needy slut from how bad it has to cum."

Nate groaned blissfully through his orgasm, watching the white ribbons splash against his slut's face, loving the aesthetic of it all. "Of course, my perfect slut. Such a good, dirty boy for me," he moaned, watching Silas suck cum off his own fingers. "Distract ya, hmm?" he hummed, pulling on the boy's hair to make him look up at him. He honestly wasn't sure what to do. His cock needed time to relax but he knew the best way to get Silas relaxed was to get a cock in his mouth. "Stay here," he said, "spread ya knees and hands behind ya back," he said, walking into his room and bringing back a full length mirror and a suction cum dildo. He set the mirror up against a wall and placed the cock on it. "Come suck this, slut. I don't want ya getting rusty with ya skills."

Silas: Silas was dying of curiosity as Nate ran off. He got into position and waited fairly impatiently, eyes trained on the hall. When Nate returned with the mirror he cocked his head at the Dom. A smile grew in his face as he started to understand. "Oh god... thank you Sir, you really know how to keep a slut entertained."

Nate smirked over at Silas as he became giddy over the idea and Nate definitely took mental note of it. He set off to the couch, getting his laptop and going over things for class as Silas made himself busy with the dildo. After a while, watching Silas go to town on the fake dick made Nate hard again and got up and walked over to him. He knelt behind the boy and started taking the plug out. "Do not let that cock leave your mouth, slut," he ordered, slowly pulling the plug out, watching a little of his cum before drip out before pressing his cock into Silas' ass again. This one went quick as Nate was ruthless in fucking him hard and fast, just to get himself off. When another load was emptied into Silas, Nate replaced the plug. "Enough whore. Follow me, I need a shower," he said, working his way to the bathroom. "KNeel by the shower and edge while you wait."

Silas: Silas got lost in sucking the fake cock. It was crazy to be able to see his face and just exactly how at peace he looked with a cock in his mouth, and how possessed he could see when he really focused on sucking and taking it down his throat. He had forgotten Nate was there when the Dom spoke and came up behind him. A loud grown passed his lips as the plug eased out and the warm cum dropped down his ass. He Moaned and whimpered at the loss until Nate filled him up. This was his dream, filled at both ends, and it was just as good as he'd imagined it would be.

Silas: Nates thrusts had him gagging more than once and he wanted to pull off the dick just to be able to cry out. All this built up tension and lust needed some escape. But he resigned to moaning around the fake cock until Nate spilled inside him again and plugged his used hole once more. His body was shaking with the effort not to beg to cum, his rock hard cock aching as he padded off after Nate to the bathroom. How was he supposed to edge when he was already so damn close!? He knelt and looked up at the Dom with pleading eyes as Nate got in. "Your whore is already so close Sir...and kinda has to pee again...please..."

Nate had gotten himself into the shower when he heard Silas' words. Nate turned on the water, letting the warmness hit him as he looked over at Silas, poking his head out of the shower curtain. "Tell ya what, slut. Choose. Ya can either pee or ya can cum."

Silas: Silas looked up just in time to see Nate all naked and wet haired, looking even more fantastic than normal. "Sir..." he pleaded, what an impossible choice! On one had , he could live not cumming but he'd have to pee eventually either way. But he'd edged so many times and he knew if he did it again right now he'd cum and fail and get a punishment he didn't even want to try and imagine. Plus, how often did Nate ever let him cum? And it could be a trap. He could pick cum and Nate could still deny him. Fuck. Silas looked down at his red swollen cock and then back up to Nate's wet drilling face, his own face still covered in cum now mostly dry and making his skin feel odd. Maybe the question itself was a trap and he shouldn't choose either! He pouted at Nate. "Cum? If it pleases Sir? Or pee? I don't know sir. Sluts aren't good at choices about what they do with their bodies, that's why Slut needs his Sir to tell him when to cum and when to eat and pee."

Nate watched as Silas went through his insane choices, which was Nate's point all along. "It would please Sir to have his slut choose which he wants more," he said simply, using the time Silas was thinking to wash himself and get out of the shower. "Alright then," he said simply, getting out of the dripping shower, "Pee. Ya have 30 seconds so do it now," he said simply, still standing in the bathroom while he dried himself off."

Silas: Silas sighed, heart broken that he couldn't do what Nate wanted him to do. He ran through his options over and over but he just couldn't figure the riddle out. When He heard the shower turn off he looked up to Nate, disappointed in himself slightly. At the order, he jumped up, knowing Nate meant what he said. He stood over the toilet, trying to force his cock down far enough to aim properly but his cock was rock hard and wasn't cooperating . He felt the clock ticking down. He finally got it in position and willed himself to pee, but nothing happened. He needed to cum so much more than he needed to pee in the moment . "I can't Sir," he said nearly panicked as he was sure he was out of time.

Nate watched as Silas stood in front of the toilet. It was taking way too long and he could tell Silas was beating himself up over it. Nate came up behind him, his hand running slowly down Silas' free arm, "Yea ya can," he said softly against the boys' hear, his voice soft but still forceful. "It's what I want. It's what I want my dirty little slut to do right now. So I know ya can do it."

Silas: Silas shivered and did start to relax slightly under Nate's touch. He hadn't anyone coaxing him into peeing since he was potty training and he suddenly felt very small. His cock twitched as Nate called him dirty and Silas shot him a look, "Not helping, Sir." He shook it off and took a few breaths. He'd have to go eventually and with Nate standing right there watching. His face blushed. Such a simple task and yet he was failing. With another deep breath he pushed all the world away and closed his eyes, finally going.

Nate was a little taken back by Silas' tone, not understanding why it wouldn't have helped since it always seemed to. Nate took a step back, saying nothing and keeping his temper under wraps. He wanted to get mad - this is the kind of stuff Silas always said he wanted. It was stuff they'd been working towards since they met and something about the way Silas said he wasn't helping wasn't sitting well with the Dom. He took his steps back, leaning against the door, trying to calm his head down. Maybe this was just a rocky point they were hitting. Maybe this was just where they need to figure things out, and maybe that was okay. Nate couldn't expect things to go perfectly every time - that wasn't logical. Once Silas was done, Nate looked the boy over, "Good boy. Now go back to practicing on the cock," he ordered, trying to get Silas back in the headspace.

Silas: Silas sighed in relief as his bladder emptied, though he wished he'd gone with the cumming option as soon as he was done. He fell back to his knees and padded over to Nate, nuzzling his leg. "Thank you Sir for letting your slut pee and for making it's choices for it," he said, then nodded at the order. It looked like he'd be kept busy and dripping all night, not that the sub minded. He crawled back to the mirror and got back to work, plugged ass set high in the air as he moaned and groaned around the cock. It was all he could manage not to reach under himself and give himself a few strokes, but he knew he'd never stop if he touched himself right now. His cock dripped a puddled under him and after a while when his jaw started to ache, he stopped sucking and leaned down to lick up the mess. "Sluts don't leave messes on Sir's floor, " he told himself, then got back to the cock, giving it sloppy head, his face slick with saliva and smacking noises filling the room.

Nate settled himself back onto the couch with his school work, finding himself yawning more than he wasn't. He took a look at the time and figured it was time to head in soon. He looked up at Silas, still going crazy against the cock which put a smile on the Dom's face. "Beautiful," he said, mostly to himself. He put his computer away and got up in time to see Silas licking up the mess he'd mad on the floor with his needy dripping cock. "Good slut," he moaned, taking the plug out of Silas again. "Get your mouth back on that cock," he ordered with a slap to Silas' ass before pushing himself into the used hole again. Nate's thrusts were forceful and hard, slapping his pelvis against Silas' ass which each one. He reached around once Nate knew he was close, stroking Silas' cock slowly. It throbbed in his hand as he felt himself explode again, filling Silas once again with his cum, and picked up the pace on Silas' cock. "Cum, slut. But don't you even think about getting your mouth off that cock," he said, pumping Silas furiously.

Silas: Silas wriggled his ass in thanks at the praise, lapping up the mess without a second thought, something that he'd struggled with just a few weeks ago. Nate's fingers on the plug had him hopeful he'd get used once more before bed and his face lit up. "Please fill me again, Sir," he begged, taking the cock between his lips with gusto at the order. Nate wasn't gentle and Silas could barely keep up. He gave up trying to bob his head and just forced the cock to the back of his mouth, letting Nate's thrusts fuck the cock down his throat. He gagged and choked on the cock while nate pounded him relentlessly. it wasn't until he felt Nate twitch and the hand on his cock that he pulled back for air, moaning and gasping. Cum?! Really? He couldn't believe it! Silas pressed his lips tight around the fake phallus, wanting to be sure he didn't mess up his chances. Even if he'd wanted to keep denying himself, he couldn't have. With in seconds Silas was cumming hard all over the floor, his body shaking and twitching almost violently as he let go of the load he'd been holding all day. One loud cry and then he was suckling the tip of the cock like a pacifier as he rode out the waves and twitches of his orgasm. He didn't dare move until Nate told him.

Nate pumped Silas to conclusion, making the boy shoot his load on the floor underneath him. "There's a good slut. Let it all out," he moaned, continuing until he felt Silas start to shake, knowing that the oversensitivity had taken over. "Off the cock, slut," he moaned, pulling out of Silas and letting the cum leak out of his over used ass. "Clean up your mess"

Silas: Silas shivered and let his head fall to the floor, forehead resting on the hardwood as Nate pulled out of his ass. Cum dripped down his crack, over his balls and began to pool on the floor. Silas groaned, knowing he had quite the mess to clean. He panted a few more times, trying to get his head to stop spinning and think straight again. After a full minute he finally hefted his head up and backed up a few paces, sinking down to lick up first his own cum, still warm and wide spread across the whole area. Then with a sigh and a lick to his lips, he lapped up the Dom's cum that had dripped from his body, some fresh, some from much earlier that day he was sure. Grit and a piece of hair stuck to his tongue and he swallowed and pulled the hair from his mouth, wiping it on his thigh before looking up to Nate with glossy eyes. "Thank you, Sir....thank you," he breathed, not sure what he'd done to deserve to cum.

Nate watched as Silas got to it, licking up his own cum from the floor while Nate's dripped out of his ass. "Just gorgeous," he said softly again, enjoying the view of the boy. When Silas looked up at him, Nate walked closer, running his hand through Silas' hair. "Such a good boy," he hummed, enjoying Silas at his feet. After a few minutes, allowing the boy to calm, "Ya ready for a showing, darlin'?"

Silas: Silas practically purred under the praise, leaning into Nate's leg like a large dog that doesn't know it's size. "MMm yes... a shower sounds amazing, Sir. But um...will you come with? Hangout in the bathroom? Talk to me, please? I don't want to be alone."

Nate nodded with a smile, still running fingers through the boy's hair. "Of course, darlin'. C'mon."