#theres a girl in my soup!

[hella1975]

the closest ill ever get to being a pick me girl is the joy that fills me when the chefs at work so clearly favouritise me. like im there nicely cleaned up in my smart-casual uniform just a 20 year old waitress smiling my customer service smile and behind me spawns Scary Dog Privilege 10x in the form of several burly middle-aged chefs at least three of which have criminal records and would all stick a bread knife in someone for bothering me

[janewaykove]

Peter Sellers & Goldie Hawn as Robert Danvers & Marion in There’s A Girl In My Soup (1970)

That was just about the wickedest trick I’ve ever seen. Why did you do that? / They hope that you will have happiness all of your life.

[fishnoodles]

doing stuff for urself is still so nice. like i am going to cross contaminate two niche media to make something even nicher for myself FUCK YEAAAA

[chappell-roans]

so much music sounds the same and that's fine when it's music that i like that sounds the same but when it's music that i don't like that sounds the same it's the worst thing at the world and i turn into an old man yelling out clouds

[00ops1e]

taskforce 141 + könig x sick! reader

warnings: emetophobia trigger warning, mentions of puking/being sick, fluff, hurt/comfort maybe??, not proofread a/n: omg here it is. the first cod thing ive written! but not actually theres some filth hiding in my documents. this is totally lowkey a self insert. geared towards female! reader but if you squint at the petnames could be gn. i've been so so sick lately and tbh scares me a lil but what cant be fixed by fictional men?? nothing.

Ghost

 A little bit of a germaphobe

Will take off his mask, but replace it with a medical mask

Only so he can still hold you, just with a peace of mind

He does NOT want to get sick too

Because then how could he take care of you?

Always has a puke bowl at the ready

Orders your favorite takeout, even if you don’t feel like eating

Because hes a firm believer in leftovers.

Which may just be the cause of this

But you'd never tell him. poor man would get so guilty he had forgotten to throw it away.

Puts on a movie and lets you fall asleep on his chest

I feel like he’s a cold-blooded type of person, doesn’t generate much heat

but makes up for it in comfort

so many blankets

so so many. 

Checks your temperature in your sleep

Lowkey counts respirations just to be sure

Makes sure you keep hydrated

Will bring you to urgent care if he’s really worried

No matter how much you protest!

Soap

Squeamish when it comes to throwing up

Will try his very best to stay with you, but sometimes ends up running from the room

Because the last thing he'd wanna do is gag at you

While hes ran away he gets a cold rag to press on your forehead, and clean you up a bit in the process

"yer hidin? awh bonnie i wasnt meanin' to embarrass ye" he says while taking your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes

"sickness and health yeah? i wanna take care of you"

Insists on rubbing vicks/ vaporub on you

Not because hes a little perv (he is)

But because he loves you and the sniffles break his little heart

peppers kisses across your collarbones, vicks smell clogging his nose

but he’s too focused on the goosebumps that rise on your skin, your little shivers

“Awh, my poor sick lass,”

Constantly checking for a fever

Forcing you to stay in bed, even after you feel better, “not takin chances, rest up.”

this man on the other hand is a human space heater

throwing a blanket on and off the two of you, getting too hot and then shortly after too cold. 

not as convenient when it’s hot out lol

head rubs 

head rubs

Gaz

Tries to bring you to a doctor/ urgent care immediatley

Will try to call an ambulance over a slight fever

Stocks up on pedialyte/makes sure youre hydrated

Cuddles constantly, does not care if he catches anything

loves being the big spoon so he can lay in the crook of your neck and still hold onto you tight 

Has extra blankets on deck

entertains you with silly little jokes

but then apologizes while giggling because you laughed so hard it hurt a little. 

Will feed you cold medicine/tums

teases you when you complain about taking them

“i don’t need you gettin any grumpier love”

Will hold back your hair/ stroke your back while youre getting sick

gets offended when you get embarrassed about it

“are you judging my girl?” he teases you

Tries his best to cook, but lowkey fails miserably

Resorts to cup of noodles and lipton packets. 

Price

Such dad vibes

Will make soup or other comfort foods from scratch

And his cooking skills are unmatched

Runs you a shower/bath and washes your hair for you

back rubs and massages

pressing small kisses to your shoulders as he works

also a human heater but not too hot, just the perfect temperature 

also just the perfect shape to spoon you, cradling every inch of your body

“I hate it when my baby’s sick,” he says, rubbing soft circles into your side

Doesnt even have to make a pharmacy run because hes so well prepared

Feeds you medicine, on the dot, every few hours after it wears off

(he totally sets reminders in his phone. [typing like an old person with reading glasses on])

Will stay in bed all day with you, quietly typing and mumbling to himself while you nap at his side

occasionally leaning down to kiss your forehead while he works

the computer goes away as soon as you wake up

"how're you feeling princess?"

loves having you in his arms, pulled close to his chest

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep on the couch (bridal style ofc)

Will hold your hair back, refuses to leave your side

“Of course youre not gross darling, we all get sick,”

Konig

rubs your back as you're hunched over the toilet

will sit down with you on the floor, back up against the bathtub when its too much of a risk to leave the bathroom

just wants to keep you company :(

"take as long as you need, liebling"

fills up the tub while still convincing you to get in

he promises you'll feel better after

caves and offers to join you as a last resort to get you cleaned up

Long baths, cuddling in the warm water

Letting the steam clear your sinus

Brushes and braids your hair

when you start feeling better but are still running a fever, hes worried.

but youre dealing with a burst of energy and simply must start with the housework

konig will put you over his shoulder and escort you back to bed

will paint your nails in bed to entertain you, anything to keep you still and in bed

Lets you put your cold feet on him, but only when you dont feel good

totally unprepared because i feel like this man has an immune system of steel

makes a quick pharmacy run, but has to call you for the shopping list bc oops he forgot 

depending on how sick you are, lets you come along for the ride

“promise you’ll stay in the car ja?”

always returns with a sweet little treat or small gift/toy for you

“gesundheit!” as he chuckles at your sneeze 

jokes that maybe he should put a mask on you

[stanathanxoox]

Our Babies

“Our babies would be so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?” - Ominis Gaunt x MC

You had just escaped from the hospital wing, your boyfriend helping to escort you there when you had began to feel incredibly nauseous and dizzy during potions class with Professor Sharp. Matron Blainely had insisted that you spent the rest of the day in the hospital wing until whatever ails you passed, having sent Ominis back to class straight after he was sure you were settled. Matron Blainely had run some tests throughout the afternoon and come to only one conclusion, one that you should’ve probably suspected given your most recent turn in your relationship with your boyfriend. You made your way through the door into the room of requirement, having sent Ominis an owl when you were being released from the hospital wing for him to meet you there. You settled on the couch having noticed that he hadn’t arrived yet. Deek appeared a couple minutes later and bowed in front of you saying

“I have a plate full of plain crackers and some soup at Matron Blainely’s request for you Miss Y/N, she said that given your certain situation at the moment you may not feel like eating what is being served for dinner in the Great hall”. You take it gratefully, and chew slowly on the crackers

“Thank you Deek, I appreciate it greatly. Do you mind giving me and Ominis some space while I tell him?” you ask and Deek nods, taking your hand in his small one before he says

“Mr Gaunt has been worried sick about you all day Miss Y/N, kept on calling me to see if I knew any more about your condition. I’m sure he will be positively thrilled to hear your news”. And with that theres a poof and Deek is gone.

You don’t have time to even think or dwell on what Deek had just said to you because the door cracks open and you hear the worried voice of your boyfriend call out

“Y/N? Are you in here? I got your owl and came as quickly as I could” he says as he rushes into the room. You stand and make your way over to him, suddenly very nervous about the whole situation. You had known right from the beginning of your friendship with Ominis that he didn’t care much for his family or for what they had done and how much he wanted to escape. How much after this last year of school he wanted to leave and never return to his families home ever again. You hadn’t really talked about children apart from that if you had them they weren’t to be anything like his family. But you couldn’t help but worry what would happen given that you were both unmarried and - you couldn’t think of that. Your hands are ringing together, a sign of how anxious and nervous you are, something that even though Ominis can’t see he can still pick up

“My sweet Y/N, what is wrong?” he asks, placing his hands gently on your arms to reassure you

“Our babies would be so cute” you say, blurting the first thing that comes to your mind, another anxious trait you had. He raises an eyebrow even more confused as he asks

“Oh yeah?” and you nod your head before gently taking his hands and placing them on the slight bump that is your growing baby. You watch the different expressions flicker across his face, from shock, astonishment and wonder, to happiness and excitement

“Are you serious right now?” he asks, his voice a whisper and you nod leaning in and whispering

“Yes Ominis, we’re having a baby, Blainely thinks I’m about 12 and a half weeks pregnant” 

“We’re having a baby” he whispers before pressing a kiss to your lips and you smile

“Ominis, what does this mean for us and the baby?” you ask and he places a kiss to your forehead

“We have two months left till graduation my sweet girl, and then we can marry and raise this baby  together” he declares as if it was the surest thing in the whole world.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods

“Of course I’m sure my sweet girl, a life without you in it just doesn’t seem worth living and now that I know we’re having our own precious little one well that’s even more reason for us to be together don’t you think sweet girl?” he asks and you nod, as tears slip down your face

“I love you Ominis” you whisper and he beams. 

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​

[quinnysnursery]

How would the littles act if they weren't feeling well? Maybe a cold or a tummy bug, what do you think would help them?

-🎀

[🪄] how the littles would act when sick | preferences

people included : chris, matt, nick, nate, tara, jake & johnnie

divider credit : @yeribbon

a/n : DARLINGGG GUESS WHOS BACK FROM JAIL (how i feel bc my laptop is repaired again) (lower case intended !)

chris

🥤cuddle puddle

💫 usually a very hyper little but when he’s sick?

🤍 TRUST this man is attached to your hip

🥤 constantly whining about his "tummy 'urtin'"

💫 i feel like little!chris doesn't typically use a pacifier during regression but...

🤍 while sick? TRUST he's curling up on the couch with a paci

🥤 expect to watch a TON of movies on the couch

💫 "sweetheart, you need to take your medicine." "but maaa/daaa/baaa..."

🤍 ipad kid cough tbh 😞

matt

🩹 you think un-sick matt is sensitive? you got a STORM coming when little!matt catches a cold

🦈 plushie falls off bed? tears. his nose is stuffy? tears. his favorite bottle is in the dishwasher? tears.

🫧 poor thing is just so overstimulated from his stuffed-up nose and scratchy throat that everything feels 10x bigger than usual

🩹 "m-mama/d-dada/b-baba...." "i know angel, do you need a hug?" "mhm :("

🦈 TRUST he has a plushie tucked under his arm every moment

🫧 comfort foods on must be on DECK

🩹 lots of whining/pouting

🦈 "m' don't wanna be sick anymore!" (it's been less than a day)

🫧 lots of tears met with lots of gentle words and hugs 🫶

nick

🌟 definitely stays on the younger end of his range when sick

🗞️ absolutely GUTTED to find out he can't go to the playground for awhile

🎥 "we wouldn't wanna get other people sick, right?" "...but I wanna go :("

🌟 honestly just lots of soup and movies

🗞️ i imagine it would be really difficult for him to comfortably sleep

🎥 so....

🌟 FORTS !! with the star projector going around the ceiling !

🗞️ playing with his hair to help him settle down :(( /pos

🎥 plz send little!nick blurbs in my requests i love little!nick

nate

🏒 grabby. hands.

🌨 lots of nonverbal communication due to his scratchy throat

⛸ this marks the beginning of little!nates babbling era™️

🏒 "mmm.... >:(" "what is it baby? how can mama/dada/baba help?"

🌨 little!nate against icky medicine

⛸ "pretty please angel?" "nuh uh!"

🏒 absolute BABY™️

🌨 sippy cups of warm tea with honey !!

⛸ live laugh love little nate

tara

❤️ since tara is immunocompromised,

🎞️ i definitely think that she's kinda use to being sick for longer periods of time

🎵 but that does NOT mean she doesn't hate it

❤️ kinda similar to matt in the since that i feel like theres a ton of mini-tantrums due to overstimulation

🎞️ all the elevated symptoms just piling up on her? yeah she's entitled to a mini-tantrum

🎵 holding her face in your hands as she calms down :((

❤️ "i'm here sweet girl, just take a deep breath." ":("

🎞️ cuddling sugar on the couch to a disney princess movie <3

🎵 extra hugs 🫶

jake

♣️ similar to chris, jake is a VERY hyper little

🍒 opposite to chris though, instead of the sickness being what calms him down...

♠️ it's his caregiver.

♣️ "munchkin, you need to let your body relax. it won't do you any good too be bouncing off the walls." "but mama/dada/baba....i wanna plaaay..."

🍒 very pouty to be contained to a couch

♠️ "do you wanna color a picture while mama/dada/baba cooks?" ">:c...yes...>:c"

♣️ lots of mac 'n cheese AND ipad games

🍒 "i'm not *sneeze* sick!"

♠️ first time writing little!jake so be nice 😭

johnnie

🦇 similar too jake with, "i'm not *sneeze* sick!"

🌒 unlike jake though, johnnie has no problem curling up with his caregiver and having a movie marathon

🐈‍⬛ how many scooby doo movies can a little and their cg get through in a day? you'll find out soon enough!

🦇 somehow becomes even MORE of a picky eater

🌒 "johns, you love chicken nuggets." "i wanted dino nuggets...."

🐈‍⬛ LONG naps

🦇 wearing his CG's sweater when they can't cuddle

🌒 you guys remember that oogie boogie plush he liked in the spirit halloween video? TRUST that's his favorite plushie in littlespace

🐈‍⬛ save me little!johnnie save me

[whilomm]

i think part of the reason why ppl have a kneejerk reaction to others pointing out that marcille is kinda conservative (besides the usual desire to sand down characters edges to make them Less Problematic™) is that theyre thinking "conservative=republican" rather than similar to like, that girl who will swear up and down that she is SO progressive and 100% feminist and everything but when a girl doesnt shave her legs she says "ugh but its just so UNSANITARY" but at the same time if a guy DOES shave their legs she just "thinks its weird!!!", and if you point out the contradiction there ("didnt you say it was UNSANITARY to not shave? doesnt that mean you think ALL guys should shave?") she will BSoD a little bit and uhhhh i mean uhhh its just that–

or you know, someone who if you come out as a trans to her she'll accept it (after a bit of confusion and a few of the usual dumb cis questions) but maybe thinks that the way to ✨validate✨ you is to go all in on gender stereotypes like okay if youre a woman that means MAKEUP and DRESSES and LONG HAIR and ACTING LADYLIKE and PARTICIPATING IN GIRLY ACTIVITIES and NOT BEING TOO LOUD and NOT TAKING UP TOO MUCH SPACE. and if your a man that means dressing MANLY and HAVING SHORT HAIR and ACTING MASCULINE and TOUGH and BEING UNINVITED FROM THE (GIRLY) WEEKLY HANGOUT SESH

or people who like, will never outright say they HATE homeless people, like if you talk about volunteering at the soup kitchen or donating to the food bank shes like yeah!!! but then she also getting weirdly uncomfortable when it comes to actual homeless people who arent like, the model of 'trying but down on my luck', and just thinking the tents are unsightly and worrying about how if you give someone money on the street if they'll just use it for drugs and being anxious about the vague specter of "violence"

(im not necessarily saying "marcille herself would 100% do these things" but just "when people say marcilles a bit conservative they dont mean rightwing republican they mean like this kinda shit which self-proclaimed Progressives do when they dont recognize they still got shit that they picked up from living in a So Sigh Titty to work thru")

like, listen, a big part of marcille's character is that she is very prideful and sure of herself and her opinions. half of marcille's character building parts are "marcille has a preconceived notion! oh, someone challenges the preconceived notion! marcille is RESISTANT to this! oh my GOD this is AWFUL how could you CHALLENGE HER WORLD VIE- oh. oh wait no. okay you might have a point BUT SHE STILL HATES IT!!!".

she changes and she learns things! but shes kicking and screaming the whole way and kinda annoying about it and even after she has one thing challenged shes still got a whole backlog of other things she learned from So Sign Titty shes also gotta work thru even if she doesnt realize it yet. sometimes she gradually realizes these things on her own sometimes someone basically has to hit her over the head with the Very Special Episode about how halffoots arent children and orcs aren't evil and maybe shes treating falin a bit like a dress up doll and infantilizing her and like thats a problem maybe?

like. its an interesting part of her character! let marcille be a bit conservative. she aint perfect. actually theres a lotta little things she kinda sucks about. but its okay bc she can learn and have her tidy little worldview challenged and its interesting to see her go thru it all!

(and i also wonder if part of the resistance to people pointing out how shes a bit conservative in some ways is also like, refusal to admit "hm maybe i also hold some regressive views". like, the general thing of "wanting to believe you are already a perfect progressive and dont hold any shitty views" is extremely realistic, its defo a trap ive fallen into before! most of us probably have! but like, step one is admitting it rather than putting your foot on the ground and saying la la la i cant hear you)

[grapejuicestyless]

i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the snow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. He was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered why I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble all in one breath, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.

[rpg-elf-girl]

I have a lot of thoughts right now about the latest episode (14)

Here's your warning to watch the episode before reading the post:

Okay okay okay

So I went back and watched the sequence of the whole Ace body discovery to try and see if there's anything there after the whole tape debacle this episode.

Here's a little recap of what happened for reference (episode 6 ~ timestamp: 18:36-21:55) :

-Teruko and Eden go to the workout room and see Nico over Ace, They run off

The tape is clearly by Aces feet here and remains there for some time

-The girls have a talk about the situation, Eden freaking out, and Teruko suspects Nico

-Teruko starts investigating, & Eden says she needs to process what just happened, Teruko tells her to sit down and not to touch stuff

-Teruko does her investigation she points out the tape here

-Eden comes over and offers to help after a little bit of this

-Teruko starts to investigate Aces body

-Ace gets up screaming and knocks Eden down

(it's about here the tape dissappeard)

-Eden gets up, surprisee Ace is alive

-after some more screaming Ace bolts out of the room and after Nico

-MonoTV promptly kicks everyone out

Okay, so I have some thoughts about all this. Character and story wise I have a hard time believing Eden did this but I don't think it's possible for Ace to have stolen the tape or mimicked the crime.

I can get behind him killing motive wise, but not with the method presented here.

The mans been scared to death since the start, got even more paranoid after the first case, literally everyone shits on him, he overheard Teruko saying he'd probably die, theres Veronikas whole disection of him in the cafeteria fight scene, and now he's nearly been murdered. So him getting paranoid and desperate isn't too far off. Also, him having nothing to do with Arei would be a good cover for him, so I don'treally count that as a defense of him.

That being said according to Nico, he woke up mid murder and fell unconscious again. How much of the method could Ace have possibly seen? Also, something that strikes me as odd is something in this image:

Ace's hands are covered in blood, so even if he theoretically grabbed the tape, wouldn't there also be blood on it? How would he hide it when using it for Arei's Murder?

Also the minute he woke up he was the center of attention, so I highly doubt he would even have time to properly hide the tape from both Teruko and Eden, or that he'd even be thinking of that the second he wakes up from nearly dying.

So because of all that, I don't think it's possible for him to be the killer here.

Opportunity wise, Eden has the most chance at staying undetected, seeing as she was on the floor around when the tape disappeared. She also had the opportunity when she was resting to observe the crime scene so she could more easily figure out and mimic the murder method.

That being said, Eden as a killer confuses me so freaking much, I feel there has to be some curveball here????? Like she'd have to have a pretty clear head directly after seeing a whole ass body so?????

I get Arei said she's likely not as innocent as she appears, but this feels like a bit much. Unless she's being blackmailed leading to some traitor reveal? It's really hard to say.

Anyway, that's my two cents here.

The two people I thought would least likely be the killer are the two main suspects, and now my brain is soup.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

if theres another life series and any of these teams happen i would lose my ENTIRE mind

Gem/Impulse/Pearl/Scott take the soup group add a scott, take gem and the scotts add a pearl, life could be a dream

Jimmy/Joel/Lizzie. the canaries. the cursebreakers. the pillager trio. joel and his wife and his wifes uglyass fish sibling. lizzie and her husband and her husbands freak blond sidepiece. perfection

Ranchers together again in Any capacity

Scar/Cleo/Etho/Bdubs/Grian. just think about it

but also Cletho back together in any capacity would kill me (/positive)

Gem/Etho/Joel i would die on the spot

Gem/Lizzie/Pearl/Cleo. i would do heinous things to watch the girls commit war crimes together

a PROPER Grian/Pearl teamup.

Ren/Bigb/Grian/Scar/Martyn. Ren Martyn and Scar all being dramatic theatre kids and PROBABLY making the entire thing queer while Grian tries to keep them all on track and BigB just sticks near Grian and Grian can't be mad at him even though he isn't staying on track either and-

Joel/Scott. put them on the same side im begging you it would be amazing

[squeiky]

More Metaos (Metal Sonic x Chaos)!!!

Im particuarly proud of this one

Some headcannons of mine involving sickness and aflictions. I think Metal Sonic gets "cramps" whenever stuff gets stuck in its turbine, and since Chaos has a brain, he can definetly get headaches & migraines. Probably can also get dizzy, and drunk (lol).

I think medicine & hot water (soup) might work for Chaos, but since Metal is a robot, theyd have to get stuff like virus protection softwares, or even just hire tails (or get eggman if possible) to just fix it up.

Some more of my wonderful girls here (personal designs for chaos and Metal, as well as my favorite fat transfem bio-Metal design because my girls are a-stylin' (so fabulous).

Also, theres a group of bird who get themselvss drunk by eating some fermented (accidentally wrote "dried") fruit off the ground, and i thought about chaos and the chao accidentally (or purposely) getting drunk like the birds, and here we are.

[person4924]

new about me

my name is sam !! thats basically all u need to know but theres (a lot) more under the cut!! i also have a strawpage that has some basic info (idrk how it works if im being honest tho)

last updated: august 5

i’m sapphic of some sort and ace

u can use any pronouns but they is usually the best !! (this is my pronouns page)

i’m neurodivergent of some sort (i don’t even know anymore)

a minor (don’t be weird)

my personality type is INFP-T

my theme will change like weekly prob bc i wanna change it with every new huperfxation i have!!

things i like (the things bolder r what i talk about the most)

harry potter (fuck jkr)

marvel

the marauders

boy meets world

it

osemanverse

paper girls

teen wolf

owl house

shameless

glee

stranger things

friends

andi mack

the last of us (i’ve only watched the show tho, but i know most of what happens in the games)

riordanverse

musicals

poetry

reading

cats

animals

fictional characters

music

movies

tv shows

art

writing

women

sitcoms

brooklyn nine nine

new girl

hamilton

grishaverse

stand up comedians

ocean animals (specifically sharks)

community

moths (and just kinda winged bugs in general)

greek mythology

dawsons creek

bojack horseman

halloween

the sky (like stars, the moon, the sunset, etc)

jelly fish

criminal minds

animals

ted lasso

scooby doo (the older movies from the 2000’s ish specifically but all of it too)

everything sucks!

the sun bearer trials

atypical

octonauts

spencer reid

bo burnham

dead boy detectives

will and grace

90’s movies

my fav movies are tick tick boom, my girl, dead poets society, breakfast club, the outsiders, hamilton, stand by me, cmbyn, lady bird, beautiful boy, luca, nimona, (500) days of summer, empire records, etc. i have a lot but this is just the first few i think of

musicals i like are hamilton, tick tick boom and the greatest showman

my fav taylor albums are folklore, evermore, reputation, 1989, ttpd and speak now but i love all of them really (please please ask me abt them omg)

my current hyper fixation is the marauders (more of a life-long obsession atp) and solangelo

i’m currently reading nothing !! i just cannot

my fav music people (i’m really just giving a short list of many): conan gray, cavetown, current joys, queen, rainbow kitten surprise, the front bottoms, harry styles, noah kahan, taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, the fray, coldplay, olivia rodrigo, billie eilish, boygenius, gracie abrams, sufjan stevens, maya hawke, the smiths, lucy dacus, julien baker, the smiths, sleeping at last, mitski, bo burnham, chappell roan, lorde, the revivalists, hozier, the head and the heart, mumford and sons, the revivalists, adrianne lender

i mostly post about whatever hyperfixation and/or character/person/ship has overtaken my brain, music and analysis things

i appreciate tone tags and i try to use them as much as possible

i’m always looking to talk to more people and i’m always bored (don’t be weird istg)

my fav books are any alice oseman book, the outsiders, the perks of being a wallflower, i fell in love with hope

child of athena (i think, idk how to actually figure it out)

i’m probably a reggie kin?? but it also changes with my varying mental state so i just say i’m marauders soup

biggest pandalily shipper you’ll find

i love love love making character analysis’ or song or movie or tv show or books or ships or whatever

i also write sometimes!! (i suck ass)

and i’m person4924 on ao3 but i can’t figure out how to link it

this is my spotify (my character playlists are my pride and joy and reason for living. i also have the best music taste you will ever encounter.)

this is my discord

this is my airbuds idk if anyone actually uses it but i thought it’d be fun to share music with mooties

please please please send me asks i have no hobbies and one friend and im always bored please please please (im on my hands and knees begging please please please (@iluvmultipleppl needs it to be known im only on my knees for them /j (they called me a whore and told me to fix it 😔)))

i have a tagging system!! idk how much ill remember to use it but yeah!! (its also new so only my new posts will have them) #sam shut the fuck up -> any original posts that don’t fit in any of the other tags #asks!!! -> asks #crazy? i was crazy once -> just any kinda longer fandom rants that i think are important sam sings :O -> lyric/music rants!!

[until-another-one-comes]

I think Nacha could be a chef at a diner or at some regular restaurant. How good of a chef is she? Who knows? Probably good enough.

I headcanon that she began cooking at a young age because her mother wanted to teach her and Nacha wanted to help around the house. She would practice cooking as a hobby until it evolved into something she’s passionate about. Her special dishes are stews and soups but she’s the best at baking, specifically cakes.

She makes homemade sandwiches for Anastacha’s lunch. If Nacha has a long shift at work, she would make sure to leave some leftover stew for Anastacha but when she’s usually at home, she would make something healthy but it’s those basic white people meals like meat with a side of mashed potatoes and vegetables. Like the good mother she is, Nacha wants to make sure Anastacha is eating well and healthy. While Anastacha would brush it off with the usual “whatever”, that’s her way of saying she loves the food. She may not show it but eating her mom’s homemade meals brings comfort to her whenever she comes home from school.

Nacha also shared her meals with the neighbours like the Stilnkys, the Cappucins, Margarette, any of them who would accept her dishes, even Francis. Although she and Francis aren’t that close anymore, Nacha would gift him some sandwiches and coffee to eat whenever he drops by to visit. Francis does enjoy the food he’s given.

I love this headcanon! I really like HCs that expand on something seemingly simple about a character. It feels very down to earth but makes them feel so much more real and grounded which makes them more interesting IMO.

Okay that aside- I think she works at a restaurant, and while there's no proof I like to believe that the place she's working at is a pretty popular and highly established restaurant. Which means, yes, she's a damn good chef.

THAT IS SO CUTE YES I FULLY SUBSCRIBE TO THIS- interests that starts from childhood are almost always the strongest, especially when its something so personal. Thats so cute, imagine baby Nacha cooking with her mother not realising it would play a big role in her life later on.

Yup, Nacha's a great mom making sure her precious little darling girl is eating healthy. Reminds me of my mom.

I like to think she still does that even when Ana's already grown if she works or goes to college near their home.

AWWW I love that! Sharing her meals with the neighbors, see this is what I mean when I say headcanons like these are so precious and makes me love these characters even more. Maybe she makes soup for any neighbors that got sick, and bake cakes whenever theres someone's birthday!

That's really sweet. I like to believe that she and Francis still have a pretty good relationship regardless of what happened between them.

[demdems]

sorry for being a little hater while watching the new natlan trailer and coughing up blood everywhere, that was a bit dramatic of me

mind the blood tho, we're still talking

a very not cohesive list of grievences i have with natlan [and genshin], I'm writing as i go so if its too long the rest is under read more

I mean truth be told i opened youtube, saw the trailer first thing, noticed the thumbnail, and kinda just immediately knew it was joever

we can start w the archon i guess [I'm assuming the red haired lady is the archon by using context clues] uh ive seen people argue that its fine/makes sense that she's white since the assumption that's been made is that she's based on himeko from hi3 but uh like, himeko murata is japanese, she's not white, if the name didn't make that obvious [this is similarly why i don't like the argument that nahida being white is fine due to her being based on theresa hi3, theresa is a clone of a white german woman im not sure why mhy based the archon of a nation based on swana cultures on her but i digress] i think its at least good that she beat the conquistador allegations, left a bad taste in my mouth when that was being speculated

The confirmation of names means people have been honing in on the cultures natlan is taking inspiration from, ive seen a lot. i made my best guess when talking with a friend but i believe theres polynesian, west african, indigenous american [mexico and central america? specifically based on the name citlali] [[feel free to correct me on anything]] honestly wasn't expecting much based on sumeru

Tbh i have like zero energy to hate on the natlan debut cast cuz i already did it w a friend but I'll do it anyways, its a lifestyle

the argument of, why look for dark skin rep in a game made by a company who's colorist [either by choice or due to pressure from the government since genshin has incredibly insane cultural impact in China], is legit since its like me looking for clothes at the soup store and getting upset

But genuinely even if mhy had a vision with genshin and wanted to show a diverse world in its game, its kinda weak to be almost so blatantly colorist outside their playable characters. I don't think that making npcs dark skinned and playable characters light skinned is a good look, especially when it's the second time that that the human enemies of the region for the most part are darker skinned than the characters used to fight them

And i don't like how parts of the community jumps on people who critique genshin for this. Like, if its a non issue to you why get upset with people yk. Plus never speaking up on stuff is bad like fine, the multi billion dollar company won't listen to you, but id like to think that other people would learn from this to some degree and understand why people get upset. And idk maybe its overstepping and silly but id like to thing that outrage reaches people who can see that yea maybe there's people who Will listen to the stories you wanna tell but idk

I just don't like that people are making it okay to just be racist and colorist like, that's just gonna eventually bounce back and then great everyones seeing how mad ur getting over someone wanting a character w a skin tone darker than #FFFFFF, i cant vocalize my thoughts right tho but you get me ig

aeugh anyways on the characters specifically, the darkest skinned character in the trailer looks almost gray thats not great, and then the girls w darker skin tones [there's so few men in genshin lately] are dressed very much not at all which is a reoccurrence, sumeru dressed its darker skinned characters in not a lot clothing which like if you've ever been to a country that's hot and sunny, people don't dress in swimwear they dress in pants and sleeved shirts because hi sun damage exists and too much exposure is unhealthy and people tend to get used to the climate

Also a lot of animal themed characters this time, do correct me if I'm wrong but i kinda see an overuse in the women of color in genshin being animal themed but if im looking too much into it then uh idk maybe genshin should release a catboy

The modern theming in the outfits isn't egregious but i think too much streetwear might bog down the overall look, like latin america cultures just by themselves have amazing fashion and god id kill to see something like a dancer based on mexico's traditional dances since those are the prettiest dresses, like modernizing is fine [i believe i saw somewhere that chongyun's outfit is based on chinese streetwear and i think it fits great in with the more traditional outfits in liyue] but stuff like the hoodies around the waist and the weird half shorts half pants of one of the characters kinda weakens the overall vision [but I'm not well versed in fashion so I'm not sure what direction wouldve been best for natlan to take to both respect the fashion of the cultures inspo is taken from and also fit in with genshins vibes overall]

Natlan the region itself is the best thing of the trailer tbh, it's very nice looking and yea there isn't a yellow orange filter over it like this were american tv or something, and the music is great i think the one part of the team who does good is the music

Personal expectations, i just hope the characters are good, like i hope good personality saves these guys and my soul while i play the natlan quest getting flashbanged everywhere i look

wegh, drip marketing Monday, and 5.0 in like 7 weeks, let's get this bread gamers

[im-yn-suckers]

they dont match butttttt, I. DO. NOT. CARE. PERIODT.

pairing- bf choi yeonjun x mexican female reader

warnings- hugs, kisses, food, not proofread, uhhhhh idk what else lol

yes, i did it. coming from a mexican female, i think i have a say in this. where all my mexicanas at? i love yall🫶🏻

christmas with your parents was an exciting topic for yeonjun. he always wanted to meet your parents and was extremely excited to meet them on christmas.

you arrive at you parents house and yeonjun was flowing with excitement and joy. he was excited to stay the night and he wanted to see how you lived growing up. you werent nervous about him meeting your parents at all because you knew theyd get along. you were a bit worried about the food.

what if he didnt like it? would it make your parents feel guilty? no, hes going to love it.

"mija! your here! oh i missed you!" your mom greeted you at the door as soon as she saw you. you hugged your dad next.

"mija! how are you?" "im ok, papi" yea, you called him papi, and? he your father, you love him.

"mijo! its so nice to finally meet you! how are you?" "yes it is! im alright, mrs.-" "oh, dont start that nonsense, call me mama." you heart melted at the sight of your mom and your boyfriend getting along so well.

"mijo, how are you?" "im good, mr.-" "call me suegro" (it means father in law in spanish). "alright" your dad shook yeonjuns hand and smiled very fondly at him.

"so! shall we have some dinner!" "lets eat!"

the table was decorated with pozole, tamales, pico de gallo, enchiladas and mole. yeonjun was left amazed at all the dishes on the table.

you two ere standing as your mom brought out the bowls, spices, and anything you could imagine.

"sit down mijo, get whatever you'd like, i made pozole and tamales. if you dont like that theres pico de gallo, enchiladas, mole, and theres desserts."

"thank you" he served himself some pozole and you grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips to eat with the pozole. (thats how i eat it lmao, if you eat it differently, adjust it as you wish)

"uh, y/n how do i eat it?" he nervously giggled and stared at his bowl in confusion.

"you can use your spoon to drink the soup, you can roll up the tortilla to dip it in the soup and use the spoon to eat the chicken and the corn. and you can also put lime, lettuce, raddish, and chile in it."

"ok, thank you" he did as you told him to and his face lit up with delight when he took the first spoonful. "wow, this so good!'

"im glad you liked it, mijo!''

he served himself one enchilada, a small spoonful of mole, and some pico de gallo, you cant forget the tamal he put on his plate.

he ate some of everything and he loved every bite of it. you mom served him a glass of horchata and he had two cups of it!

"i'll clean up you guys go and wait in the living room, and when im done we can eat dessert!" your mom obviously could not wait until a certain dessert that ill leave to your imagination for now.

"i'll help you pick up!" yeonjun immediately refused to sit down and went to go help you mom.

in the living room, you and your dad were chatting. "so, yeonjun, really liked the food, huh, mija?" "yea, he loved it. i think he liked moms pozole best though. the chiltipin helped a lot too." "well, your mom made a lot for your could take leftovers home." "i'd love that. also, mami never made this much food for christmas when i was a little girl. we only had pozole and we bought the horchata, did she make it?' ' she did, and she was going to make birria but it takes too long." "aww, i love her birria" "come get desserts guys!!" your mom poked out of the kitchen and called you in.

when you walked in, the table had a big rosca de reyes in the middle and buñuelos and conchas, and mugs of champurrado. oh, how you missed the nostalgic smell.

"ok, who wants the first piece of it?" "be careful, if you get the baby, you need to make the tamales for everybody" "oh, uh. should i get the first piece?" "if you want" "papi, did you get the baby?" " no thankfully" "mami, give me this piece" "no baby!!!" "yeonjun, here you go!" she gave him a random slice and she bought the rosca de reyes so, she couldnt cheat. "did you get it baby?" "uh, yea." your family burst into laughter at the fact that yeonjun, who had tasted tamales for the first time today, was stuck making them!" "ay, mijo! i'll give you guys the recipe dont worry."

all the dessert was delicious and so was the champurrado. you and yeonjun cleaned up as your parents set up the living room for gifts and maybe some mistletoe. but shhhh. they may be mexican but, they still follow the trends duh.

"so, we gotta make tamales for the boys huh"

"i guess, but i dont know how to make them. and your lucky, mami never made this much food on christmas."

"im her favorite i guess" "when i was a kid, i always dreamed of getting the baby. when i turned fifteen, me and my sister got it and we were stuck with making tamales. never wanted the baby ever again."

yeonjun laughed as you walked into the living room with your mom and dad waiting. a big present marked yeonjun and y/n was waiting in your seat.

"open this one first!" you opened it and a big ol pot was wrapped up. your mom and dad were laughing and you and yeonjun were smiling. you mostly wanted to cry, you cant make tamales like girl.

everyone opened up their gifts and they gave you guys some to give to the boys back home. "alright, its really late lets go to sleep." you and yeonjun got ready for bed and went into your parents guest room. it was filled with pictures of your childhood an teen years and stuff you wouldnt really display yourself.

"good night mijo! buenas noches mija! te amo! (i love you)" your mom told you both as you were walking into your room. "buenas noches mami. te amo!" "good night mama!" you wouldve definitely melted into putty right there and then if you could.

you plopped into the bed and waited for yeonjun to finish changing. "your moms so sweet. y/n!" "i know, she was texting me nonstop in the morning asking what time we were heading over." "aww," he laid down and kissed you softly. "goodnight baby" "goodnight my love"

in the morning you were woken up with a torta that smelled like heaven. you needed to leave soon so you ate then went to your room to clean up your things. "we only ate beans and tortilas for breakfast when i was a kid. you must really be the favorite." "she loves me''

"alright, mami. the cars loaded, we're gunna get going."

"oh, wait!" she brought out three(BIG) full bags of containers of food.

"wow, this is alot. " "good, now no one will have to cook for at least a day." "with five men in the house, itll be gone in an hour"

"bye mijo, it was nice having you over and meeting you." "thank you suegro. it was nice meeting you too" yep, melted again.

"mija, bye, i love you." "bye papi, i love you too"

"mija, bye, i'll miss you. thank you for coming over. i love you" "i'll miss you too, thanks for having us. i love you too mami"

"ay mijo. i dont want you to leave." "i dont want to leave either"

"bye mijo, thank you so much for coming. i'll miss you." ''bye, mama. thank you for having us. i'll miss you too."

you two walked out the front door and got into the car.

"love you guys! say hi to the boys for me!" "we will mami! love you too!"

"bye mama! love you!!!"

and with that, you were driving back to your house. yeonjun intertwined your hands and kissed it. man he was hot driving with one hand.

the end

um so why am i posting a christmas fic in august, bc i thought abt it while eating mole sooooooooo. yall, before you come at me for having the rosca de reyes in december, i know its eaten in january but, yall arent gunna visit them until then soooo. uh LATINAS FOR YEONJUN