#where it is ALWAYS so stressful bc my parents make it fucking miserable

[celefrfr]

hiii!! can i get an angst to comfort joost fic where the reader is just having a really hard time lately w everything. like family, work, and just everything in general is stressing her/them out so they get really distant bc they feel bad about burdening joost and joost jusr shows up at their apartment and is like “why” and they break down in tears and it ends all fluffy?

February i almost died.

notes: this is actually a bit gotten from a real story, i removed the happy part of it , made parts different , and i just added joost lol, im good now, dont villanize my mom, she was very sad too because she knew i was always crying, shes a good person

summary: literally look at the request 👍

relationship:joost×fem!reader

WARNING! theres a part where Y/N commits sh (head banging)

Reader was always a very clingy person to Joost, always texting him, asking him to hang out, going to restaurants, but, november came, her mental health started to go down, she felt lonely, like nobody wanted her, like she was a burden, she never spoke, whenever she did she'd get ignored, she always argued with her parents, she made each of them cry at least once, she was guilty, she was close to running away from everyone and never coming back, the only thing stopping her was that she didnt have any money to use, one day, she was in her room listening to music, bawling her eyes out, in fetal position,her mom came in, she kinda screamed "go shower, and do your room." her voice cold "CANT YOU SEE HOW DOING RIGHT NOW?" Y/N screamed back "Y/N, youre never happy." her mom left and closed the door, Y/N got up, and slammed her head into the wall twice, she got white flashes each time, joost lived in an apartment, attached to hers, he could hear the banging, the crying, the screaming, as Y/N was pacing back and forth in her room just crying, joost was trying to find her , she didnt want to be a burden to him, so she ran to a public bathroom and just cried there, her eyes were already puffy from the day before since she cried everyday, when she calmed down, she went back to her house and into her room, just to find joost talking with her parents, he was almost screaming, arguing "YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER IS ON THE VERGE OF KILLING HERSELF OR RUNNING AWAY AND WHAT DO YOU DO? OH YEAH, LETS SCREAM AT HER A BIT MORE, MAYBE SHE WILL BE HAPPY, WHERE IS YOUR COMMON SENSE?" he yelled, her dad yelled back "SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF A VICTIM,SHE NEVER LISTENS" joost didnt even answer, he noticed her rooms door closing so he ran and found her on her bed, staring into nothingness "what happened?" he asked, his tone concerned, he was almost gonna cry too, Y/N didnt answer, she just fell into his arms,crying, she showed him the mark of her head on the wall to him, he didn't say anything, he just packed her bags and got her to his house, made her favorite tea, atleast attempted to, since it was an ethnic recipe, put it near his bed, and got with her, trying to comfort her, he held her to his chest, she gave him a faint kiss on the cheek, the stubble hurting her face a bit, she didnt care, since it was him "Why didnt you tell me anything?" he asked "i didnt want to be a burden to you." she answered, he didnt say anything, just hugged her, he saw her eyes getting heavy, almost falling asleep on him, she looked so cute but so miserable, the only things keeping her alive were him and her phone, he kissed her, and told her "just know that if you even ran away i would find you and come with you.", the period of her life that went from november to february finally ended, she was there, felt happy, loved, for once.

[doubledyke]

Comparing Edd to Eddy, which of the two you would say gone through the worst shit throughout the show?

(regarding both their homelifes AND all the bad stuff across the episodes too).

putting this under the cut cuz it gets pretty miserable lmao

also, i'm including ed.

as far as the canon of the show and movie i'll go with eddy obviously because of the whole bro thing, and bc he's most often the target of everyone's rage. at least with ed and edd, there seems to be a baseline of decency and occasional kindness from the other kids. as soon as eddy rears his square head, everyone's groaning and patting at their pockets. nazz and rolf are okay towards him a couple times i guess, but it ends in disaster nonetheless.

still going strictly by canon events i'd say edd is next. he's so damn stressed the entire time that it stresses ME out. eddy and ed put him through a lot both mentally and physically. he's so frail 😭 he can't handle all that.

ending with ed just cuz he comes off as impervious to any physical harm, and blocks a lot of the mental stuff as a defense mechanism. he does whatever he can to stay in his happy place and he's gotten really good at it. not saying he doesn't go through anything or that he isn't affected, he's just the least affected of the three.

we don't have a ton to go off of in terms of their home life, which is totally fine by me. preferable in fact. as a disclaimer, it's generally shitty to compare trauma, but they're cartoon characters so i'll compare their *fictional* trauma lmao. all just my opinion etc., etc.

during the run of the show, my opinion is that ed has it the worst at home. i imagine that he's made to feel very much like the red headed step-child. it's his parents and sarah teaming up against him, blaming him for all their problems. belittling, degrading and and if he's lucky, ignoring him. his dad really just reacts to what his wife and daughter tell him, but he reacts just the same. ed is cast to the basement and they all try really really hard to pretend that he doesn't exist. maybe his dad takes pity on him from time to time and buys him a comic or a movie behind his wife's back. or maybe he doesn't. he certainly doesn't want to ruffle feathers and make himself more miserable than he already is. come on, he just got off work. and once again, ed checks out to survive. i think there would be a point where ed and edd kinda look at each other and are like "what the fuck" in response to seeing ed's treatment first hand. we kind of get something close to that in the show when ed tells them they literally took his stairs.

edd is next i guess cuz he's got such a terrible wake up call in his future. realizing that no dude, it's not even slightly normal to communicate with your parents strictly via sticky note. it's not normal for a kid to be expected to take care of every single chore and task around the house. and all the books, all the academic achievements, all the folded socks in the world aren't gonna make them love you. then dealing with his (i always use this word) DEBILITATING anxiety on top of all that? i've said it before but he's straight up burnt out by the end of the show at age 12/13.

edd by the start of bps:

i put eddy last bc at least during the show his home life seems relatively normal. his mom is very obviously doting and his dad is okay as long as he keeps that wrist tight. with bro gone, the immediate threat is neutralized, and he's in no hurry to unpack anything going on internally. much like the other two, there's a major realization and subsequent struggle in his future. but he's slightly more deluded than edd and is actually the last of the three to accept that his childhood was fucked up. even after bps, he kinda knows, but he's incapable of accepting that he was a victim. bruises heal, what's the big deal? bro didn't have to do all that in front of everyone though, geez. his self worth is so low that he doesn't believe his experiences can be considered abuse. he's the one that pissed his brother off, after all. and so on and so forth. anywho, if bro still lived in the house i'd probably put him at the top of the list cuz like... not to get too dark here but idk man "accidents" happen and who knows if bro could've been stopped if no one was around. my personal hc as to why bro left or was forced to leave is that there was a really close call.

so yeah they all have fucked up home lives and day to day lives. they're so miserable 🥺 yes i will compound it 🥹

[redrobin-detective]

I am going to regret asking this and giving you another chance to drag me in this fandom... but what's the problem with Danny's parents? Is there something else than the fact they really really want to dissect a ghost?

For me, the issues with the Fenton parents boils down to two main issues: 1. their complete and dangerous obsession with ghosts and destroying them and 2. the negligence to their children. I think Jack and Maddie are good people who love their children and can be good parents. But the problem is their ghost hunting work was always the priority in the family which Jazz and Danny clearly suffer from.

Point 1. The Ghost Obsession

I don’t know what happened to Jack and Maddie that caused them to develop an all consuming obsession with ghosts and, moreover, the need to destroy them. Fandom has pointed out that while they claim to be scientists, they clearly are more interested in weapons to hurt and destroy ghosts than anything even resembling normal scientific study. Amity Park has a high number of violent ghosts (mostly there to play fight Danny) but most ghosts everywhere else are just vibing. The ghost obsession hurt Danny long before he became part ghost (but I’ll save that for Point Two) but it went from an annoyance to an actual threat to his life.

First off, as many others have pointed out, having a dangerous lab in the basement with untested equipment/weaponry that your kids not only have ready access to BUT also have to go down there for assigned chores? Not great, Jan. I’ll give the Fentons the benefit of the doubt, we see clearly that Danny/Jazz know how to work the equipment in their house so they obviously have been drilled in usage and safety. Danny gets his ghost powers by being dumb and 14 and messing around with his friends like any normal kid would. Danny is now the very thing his parents want to hunt and destroy and a mainstay of the series is he is so scared of their reaction that he hides his powers/identity from his parents but not his ghostly enemies. Can you imagine being that uncertain that your parents love for you outweighs their obsession that you hide such a fundamental part of your life? What a miserable reality for a young kid.

Jack and Maddie spend the entire series going off about their hatred of ghosts. Danny has to sit there and listen to them talk in extreme detail how they’ll dissect and obliterate any ghost they come across. They’ll be making deadly weaponry made to kill beings like him at the kitchen table, weapons that do respond to his ghostly signature. They especially hate Danny’s alter ego, Phantom, because of his supposed trickery by pretending to be a hero. The canon things said in the show would certainly make me nervous about sleeping in the room next to them. They are capable of working with Phantom when push comes to shove but it never lasts long and they go back with guns blazing. Danny and the show mostly play these threats off for laughs but the fact that Danny straight up doesn’t tell them is telling enough on how it effects him. 

Point 2. The Negligence

‘Hur Dur parents are bad’ is a well known cartoon trope but the Fentons take it to an extreme. Jack and Maddie are obsessive with their work, absentminded and reckless, none of which create a safe and stable home for children. I love Jazz and Danny but they clearly are not entirely normal children (even before the whole ghost thing) from growing up in such a home. Jazz develops a reactionary personality, delving into psychology and being right as a way to kind of understand/get back at her parents (source? I do this exact thing with my mom) and Danny was quiet, overlooked and not given the attention to really flourish, instead being a sort of ghost in that house before he ever became one. 

Jack and Maddie 110% love their kids but do they encourage them in a meaningful way? Support their interests? Be available to help? Not really. I hate The Fright Before Christmas bc Danny gets blamed for being a “scrooge” instead of acknowledging he hates the holiday for his parents destructive fighting every year. (source? Again fucking me. I hate Xmas bc mom and I scream every year)

This issue only exacerbates once Danny gets ghost powers. His whole life is affected by his ghost fighting: he’s getting injured in fights from human bullies and ghosts, his grades are dropping from lack of studying/sleep, he’s absent from the house more often than not, he’s sullen and depressed and scared and anxious all the time. It’s a radical change and yet Jack and Maddie kind of brush over it, focusing instead how Danny’s changes affect them (IE Danny not being around to do his chores). This boy comes home, beaten from fights, stressed and feeling alone only to get yelled at because his parents miss all the signs he’s practically radiating that he is Not Okay. He eventually becomes a good enough fighter and actor to skip over but it’s truly heartbreaking that he can’t confide in the people supposed to support him the most. But it’s not just the ghost obsession, even without all the powers like if Danny was doing drugs or in a gang, his parents barely notice and, when they do, they don’t really do anything other than blame him. 

Now I’m going to end this long rant by saying that I love Jack and Maddie, I think they are fascinating people and want to see them developed. The situation as it is for most of the series is not okay in the least but I do believe they have the potential to be good, supportive parents. There’s a couple of eps where they DO find out about danny’s powers and instantly all the negligence and hostility is gone, its all acceptance of his powers and apologies for their behavior. Its not a perfect situation and could be borderline abuse apologism if done wrong. But I’d like to think that once they got over the shock and did some serious priority and soul searching, they would learn to correct themselves. Growth isn’t just saved for the teen protagonists, everyone has the chance to be better. Danny clearly doesn’t hold his parents behavior against them and would be nothing but ecstatic if they loved and accepted him. I do believe in a happy, functional if abnormal, Fenton family dynamic and I’m all for it.

[koshicoast]

A few shinkami headcannons because I love them more than anything

Shinsou has a growth spurt and practically towers over Denki by their second year (for all intents and purposes, Shinsou has always been in class 1A)

Denki grows a little bit but not that much, he’s not complaining though, he gets Shinsou to grab stuff on the top shelve for him or has him hang up posters in higher places in his room (the only downside is that he has to get on his tippy toes for kisses but usually Shinsou will just bend down like a good boyfriend)

They go on dates every Sunday, It’s their day and it doesn’t matter what they’re doing as long as it’s just the two of them

They could be studying or doing homework or exercising or anything really and they’ll call it a date

The rest of the class knows better than to try and contact either boy on Sunday

“Normies worship Jesus on Sunday but I worship Shinsou” - Denki, at one point in time

Shinsou loves playing with denki’s hair, he buys different kinds of hair clips just to put them in denki’s hair

he just likes how the colors pop out

He especially likes to see purple hair clips in denki’s hair

Tbh it doesn’t have to be hair clips, it could be a scrunchie or a rubber band or a headband; as long as it’s purple it does wonders to shinsou’s heart

Denki likes playing with shinsou’s hair too but more than that he likes seeing Shinsou in yellow clothing

Shinsou doesn’t wear bright colors a lot usually sticking with black or cool tone colors

But when he does wear yellow, Denki just gets all mushy no matter how small it is

It could be yellow earrings or socks or something and Denki will wear a love sick expression all day

Despite being in the hero course, Shinsou still gets incredibly insecure about his quirk and how some people only see him as a villain

Denki, without fail or hesitation, tells Shinsou what a great hero he’s gonna be, he talks about how Shinsou is gonna inspire a new wave of underground heroes and how he’s gonna be some kid’s Aizawa one day and how proud he is of him (The first time he said that, it makes Shinsou sob. It makes denki cry too bc he’s a sympathetic crier so they just lay in bed holding eachother)

He also tells Shinsou how no matter who’s the number one hero, Shinsou will always have first place in his heart. And that Shinsou is just as much as any other hero out there and even a little more because he’ll be underground

Denki just loves his boyfriend so much and whoever planted the idea that some quirks are just made for evil is going to get electrocuted >:(

Denki will also pepper Shinsou in kisses saying things like ‘you are so kind’ ‘you’re an amazing person’ ‘I love you so much’ ‘You’re my hero’ and just a bunch of stuff so by the end of their heart to heart Shinsou is feeling a lot better

Denki gets insecure about how ‘dumb’ he is and how he’ll probably just end up hurting civilians or himself before he hurts a villain

Shinsou hates how that’s how Denki views himself because Denki is one of the kindest people in the world and doesn’t even realize it like the first time Denki told him that insecurity, Shinsou looked at him and was like ‘are you..you’re serious? Denks, You’re one of the most clever people I know’

Whenever Denki mentions it, Shinsou he just squeezes the blonde and lets him cry out his frustrations before telling him that ‘he’s not an idiot or stupid and that it’s okay not to understand something as fast as others and that it’s okay to learn differently and it’s okay’ (Shinsou will always try not to cry but a few tears fall anyways bc he just wants denks to be happy without feeling like he’s a fuckup)

Shinsou never lets Denki call himself an idiot or stupid, even in a joking way.

They don’t fight a lot because of their personalities like

Denki is a people’s person and is really in tune with other’s emotions and by default is a pacifist unless otherwise

Shinsou isn’t a people’s person but he’s observant due to his quirk bc of how he’s been treated in the past, he’s also good at picking up on people’s body language

Most times it’s just small disagreements and even then they communicate the best they can and try to compromise

If that doesn’t work then they’ll give each other space so the disagreement won’t turn into something ugly

They’ve only fought once and it was the worst (and best) thing for them

The fight happened after a mock rescue mission goes wrong and there were weeks of stress and tension leading up to it

It was messy and bad like really bad

“I just don’t get why you have to run into danger!” Denki screamed. The whole dorm could probably hear them but he didn’t care, not when his boyfriend was looking at him like he just lost his mind.

It was supposed to be a simple training exercise. Simple. Go in, defeat villains, rescue the ‘hostages’. It was not that simple.

*insert how badly the mission went and Shinsou ran towards the danger to help or smth idk*

It gets pretty rough between the two of them because they’re both pretty emotional people

Shinsou thinks denki doesn’t want him to be a hero and denki thinks Shinsou doesn’t want to be with him

It’s a lot of insecurities + stress + yelling

Denki is the first one to break, he’s a lot more emotionally sensitive than Toshi and everything is just crashing down and he hates it

“Do you just not want to be with me?!” He cries, unable to keep the tears at bay any more. He hates arguing with people, especially when that person happens to be his boyfriend. He gets it, he does! Toshi is training to become a hero and so is he but that doesn’t make it easier. Doesnt stop the shot of fear whenever he watches the other get hurt, doesn’t stop the late night self deprecation, doesn’t stop the anxiety he gets whenever he sees Toshi run head first into danger.

But he gets it and somehow it’s a bitter realization.

Because Hitoshi’s priority is the job they signed up for and Denki’s is Hitoshi.

The fight ends with tears on both their parts and they call it a night, too tired to scream anymore

They sleep in their own rooms that night

The next morning they agree to take a break, not a full break up, but some time away. Space away from each other to prioritize and think.

(Now ive seen fanfics where everyone picks denki over Shinsou and i hate that so fuck you, class 1A are both their friends and they’re all family and try and to help each other I will die with that statement)

Surprisingly the two most helpful people are Bakugou and Kirishima

(Actually not that surprising, they’re the longest couple in the whole class, dating immediately after Kamino)

Bakugou and denki have a heart to heart

“You’re both dumbasses” Katsuki sighs heavy, passing another tissue over to the sobbing blonde. He’s not good at these kinds of things, but Kirishima told him he could help the electric blonde more than he could so here he is. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just cry?” He asks, not without a hint of worry though. He pretends to ignore it.

So denki tells him everything and his insecurities

Oh. Yeah, Kirishima was right.

“You think I’m an idiot” Denki mutters quietly, harshly rubbing his eyes.

“No” The older blonde shakes his head, plopping down on the bed next to the other. He doesn’t turn to meet yellow eyes, his own trained on the All Might poster hanging directly across from them. He feels Pikachu’s curious gaze on him so he decides to elaborate more, knowing the sooner he helps the sooner he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore. It’s totally not because he’s gotten soft. Absolutely not.

“Trust me, Zombie Eyes looks at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. It’s disgusting to watch.” He crinkles his nose in disgust earning a small laugh. “People like him and I, we gotta work twice as hard. Not saying that no one else does but it’s different.” He stresses the last word. “People like Ei or Deku or even you, people already see you as good so all you gotta do is get stronger. They don’t question your character, your morals, they don’t look down on you for having a weakness. People like Zombie Eyes and I though?we gotta work hard just to prove that we’re good. That we were meant to become heroes. Every action we do is put under a microscope and analyzed.” He explains.

“We’re assholes by default, It’s how we were raised. Not saying it as an excuse though. He was in the shitty system and I had shitty parents, no adult taught us shit like love or how to properly deal with feelings.”

Stupid Deku tried with him but he didn’t even know how to deal with his own much less some angry blond kid’s.

He takes a deep breath, pushing back faint memories of his childhood. The younger hasn’t said a word but he can tell he’s listening so it’s fine. “We can’t just turn off how we are. If it’s frustrating for you and Ei, It’s worse for us. Like we know logically that we’re good people, that we changed but that’s now how our brain sees it. We push ourselves because that’s all we know how to do, it proves to us and everyone else that we bled for our spot here. That we made it. Having friends is hard because we compare ourselves to them and draw our own conclusions to their actions. Being nice? Our brain says it’s a trap. Showing some human fucking decency? Our shitty brain says it’s an act. Being in a relationship? Laughable. We’re just villains pretending to play heroes to everyone else.”

He takes another deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the poster, flashbacks to their first year briefly passing in his head. Okay yeah, not going down that route. He looks over, making eye contact. He wonders if this is how Kirishima feels whenever he’s trying to cheer him up. Wonders if it’s just as hard. This better be worth it, everyone has been miserable. (Shitty thing about having been through life and death situations together is that everyone has bonded and become close like a family so when one of them is sad it’s like everyone is fucking sad.) (He loathes it because even he gets worried.)

“But despite that he still loves you.” He says softly, almost whispering like he’s telling the other a secret. “Fights his demons to hold your hand and all that shit”

Shinsou loves him? Loves him?

“How do you.. how do you know?” Denki whispers, throat sore. “We fought so badly last night, we were screaming at eachother.”

“He treats you the same way I treat Ei.” He answers,

“He changed his priorities around to try and accommodate for another person in his life, you became more important than training or studying. He takes days off to be with you, cuts his studying short if you need a break. It might not seem much to others but for him that’s huge. He came in with this one track mind but then you came along and he scrambled to balance everything. And then you two got your shit together and started to go out and I’m pretty sure he got scared”

“Scared?” Denki asks, the thought almost funny to him.

“I did.” Bakugou admits as Denki’s eyes grow wide.

“I was petrified. When Ei started to become more important than hero work, I freaked. It’s not that loverboy is choosing being a hero over you, It’s because he doesn’t understand that he can have both. He thinks everything important is a choice- that if you want something you have to give something up. He chooses hero work and he loses you. He chooses you and he loses hero work.”

“But he’s not going to lose me or hero work”

“Kinda sounded like you did give him an ultimatum though”

The realization hits him like cold water.

Shinsou gets a similar talk with Kirishima

It helps, a lot

They don’t immediately go back to eachother, instead spending the week with their everyone else and just taking time for themselves

Shinsou knocks on Denki’s door Sunday morning and they finally talk things out

It’s also the first time they say ily!!

Anyways after that fight they work harder on communicating especially when it comes to things like hero work

It’s not perfect bc their dumb traumatized teens but they’re trying and they know their lil family will always be there

I haven’t slept but yes thanks for sticking around if you’re reading this

If ur interested in shinsou’s talk with Kirishima lmk

[extravaguk]

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m 

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones. 

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks? 

But apparently, you did. 

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone. 

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve. 

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat. 

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin)  falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now.  Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence. 

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question.  Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips. 

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall. 

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby." 

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes. 

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you. 

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck. 

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace.  It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing. 

"Let me take you on a date." 

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week. 

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away. 

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right. 

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be. 

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes. 

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony. 

"N-no!" 

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out. 

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed. 

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful. 

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one. 

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance. 

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible. 

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth. 

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future. 

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you. 

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

[obsidianfr3sk]

true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore. 

Simon wanted a bigger flag. 

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.) 

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.  

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had  challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had  asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander  the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?” 

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger  on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

 ***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

 ***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room’s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing.  I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.  

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

 ***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

[blush-and-books]

Juke 48 fluff please...

Prompt #48: “I told you to take care of yourself.”

Ksjahdsf High School AU inspired by the fact that my generation has been so crushed by the pressures of our education system that we would always show up to school with colds and strep and literally anything because we refused to miss school. Double inspired by the morning I threw up at 3AM and had a cold but literally went downstairs and monologued to my mom that I had to go to school bc I had two quizzes that would have been hell to make up and I would have had major anxiety if I missed anything. And she let me go. Triple inspired by the fact that pre-COVID I would get sick routinely 4 times across Oct, Nov and Dec because my peers would also show up sick. So, yeah. Here’s to the american education system 

Luke knows that something is off with his best friend when she finally approaches her locker that Wednesday morning, where he had been anxiously bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for her.

Where she is usually like sunshine to him, glowing brighter than the California sunrise -- a lyric in the song he was planning to show her, but would never admit was inspired by her as well -- she arrives with the pale glow of the moon instead. Julie’s eyes are half-open, and her usually bouncy curls have been pulled back and up unto a messy bun. 

He hasn’t seen her like this since-

“Jules,” he mumbles, half to himself and half to her when she finally looks up and notices him. Instantaneously, he takes an energetic step towards her, letting his hands rest on her upper arms. “Are you sick? Again?”

As if she doesn’t want to hear it, not again, her bottom lip juts out in a pout that is only seen on a miserable Julie Molina before she brushes past him to her locker. Deeply concerned, Luke trails after her. 

“Julie, hey,” he attempts, but she won’t look up at him. There’s a shame in her face while she gets her calculus textbook from her locker, and it’s then that Luke notices the thermos she’s clutching in her left hand. “Let me take this stuff. Drink your tea. Don’t try and talk, I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

She shakes her head, it’s not his fault, she’s the idiot showing up to school sick, but she couldn’t miss today. She just couldn’t. 

Without putting up a fight, she lets him take her backpack and textbook from her possession while she unscrews the lid of her thermos and chugs two big gulps of tea. Temporary relief is brought to her throat, but it doesn’t last long. 

“I-” She attempts, but Luke shoots her a glare and wags a finger at her. Ignoring him, she powers on. “I have a calc test and a history quiz and an English debate.”

“You can make those up.” “But do I want to? Do I want to miss a whole day of notes and work and assignments because I have a runny nose?”

(And a sore throat, obviously. And a headache. She also woke up right before her alarm to throw up, but she hasn’t felt the urge to do that again since. You get the picture though.)

“Jules, I mean this in the best way possible, but you look like there’s a lot more than a runny nose happening here. A runny nose was two weeks ago. This looks like your whole body aches.”

(Fair assessment. It does.)

She lifts her thermos to her lips once again to soothe the throbbing that resulted from her excuses, feeling her stomach twirl in a way that she can’t tell is another bout of nausea or just Luke making her painfully fall more in love with him. 

He, on the other hand, is one step away from hauling her over his shoulder and driving her home himself. He doesn’t know what to do. Julie’s stressed, and the stress has made her vulnerable to colds for the past couple of months, and this is the third time he’s seen her sick. No matter what, she shows up to school -- freshman year, she stayed home sick with the stomach flu, and had a panic attack in the bathroom on the day that she came back. 

He knows because he was in her music class that year. Her best friend, Flynn, had rushed into the music room to explain to their teacher, and he’ll never forget it. 

Coincidentally, it was two months ago, with Julie’s first ceremonious cold of the year, that Luke officially realized that he was in love with her. It was the feeling of seeing her uncomfortable, powering through because she felt like she had to -- he was so proud, yet so worried, and wanted to bring her home so they could watch Tangled and he could make her the matzo ball soup recipe that Alex taught him when they were kids. 

“I know,” she croaks at him, face crumbling. “It does. I feel like shit. But I just have to get through today, and I’ll be fine.”

(After spending six hours at school, another two on homework, pedaling through five bottles of Gatorade and getting four hours of sleep because her throat and sinuses prevent her from any adequate rest. Yeah. She’ll be fine.) ((She’ll still come to school tomorrow.))

Luke knows all of this. In his head, he’s drafting the text to his parents that he’ll type out in his lap during first period to tell them that he’s going to be at the Molina’s for the next couple of days, taking care of Julie. They do have a band to worry about, after all, and their lead singer needs to be in top shape. 

Just looking at her tired face makes his chest hurt. She looks like she hasn’t smiled in a long time. Wanting to comfort her, somehow, he reaches his hands up to cradle her cheeks -- but she swats him away. 

“Luke, no. I’m not getting you sick.”

Fighting her flailing hands, he manages to slip his own to her cheeks, making sure that the fingers that are wandering into her hair rub her scalp. That’s always a calming, relieving feeling. 

“Impossible, mariposa. My immune system is Herculean.”

She looks up at him, fully, for the first time that morning. He can’t help but grin at getting to see her face, no matter how tired she thinks she looks, and even though she thinks he is full of shit she can’t help but mirror his expression. 

“There’s my girl,” he whispers unconsciously. Her skin warms underneath his hands. “Are you alright? Do you have a fever? You’re getting a little toasty.”

Her skin temperature rises from her blush even higher as his hands slip from her hair and to her forehead, pathetically testing for a fever. 

“I’m good,” she shakes her head, trying to brush it off. His eyes refocus on her, and he sighs; the air staying silent between them as she tries to decipher what he’s thinking. 

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he insists. “I told you to take care of yourself. Can’t have my frontwoman blowing her nose in between each song at a gig.”

“I’m your frontwoman now? Fuck Julie and the Phantoms, I guess.”

Luke smirks, and for a heavenly moment forgets that the precious girl in front of him isn’t in pain, but she stiffles a cough after her joke. Frowning, he drops his hands to grab hers so that he can hold them up between their chests. 

“You’re my everything, silly. Frontwoman, best friend, study partner, favorite person-”

“-Walking petri dish.”

“Yes. My walking petri dish.”

The joke lightens Julie up. Maybe today, if her and Luke can keep making jokes, she will get through. She can’t think of anything else to say as his lips press against her forehead in a gesture so caring that she would grab his face and move those lips down a few inches if she weren’t, you know, a walking petri dish. 

Before either of them can say anything else, the school bell rings. It’s time for her miserable day to start. Just the idea of sitting still in her math class makes her shiver, and she wraps her arms around herself. 

“Are you cold?” Luke jumps to ask, moving closer to her as the halls start moving with crowds of other students. 

“Luke, I’m fine-”

“My locker is right by your math class. I have a flannel in there. You’re wearing it today.”

“Luke-”

“No arguments. I was walking you to class anyways. I’m walking you to every class, actually. Your backpack weighs more than you do and that’s the last thing you need to feel right now.”

(Not to be creepy, but Julie Molina would marry Luke right now if he asked. Sometimes she wonders if her other best friend, Flynn, is right when she makes jokes about her and Luke being a married couple. If this is marriage, sign her up.)

“Thank you,” she says lightly, trying not to strain her throat. Luke responds with tugging on her left hand, beginning to pull her towards the staircase at the end of the hall. 

“We’ll get you better, Molina. Mark my words.”

Tagging @willexx because you got all impatient on me. love you babe and love you too anon!!

[claudiasjeancregg]

I hope this helps with the stress at least just a little bit <3 and I do understand wanting to write but not being able to, so if you want, write as much as you want with (specially 12!). So. Here we go! 14, 13, 12, 10, 1!

hey ariel thank you so much this literally made my entire day, i wrote a fucking essay so here goes.

1. favorite episode

EVIDENCE OF THINGS NOT SEEN, institutional memory, the supremes, drought conditions, holy night, the inauguration episodes, the midterms, noël... all of them. just. ALL OF THEM

10. something you wish had happened

oh my god SO MANY THINGS!!! cj/toby kissing in the 7.21 scene would have saved my entire soul, or really just a kiss at any point. i just wanted them to ADDRESS THE CHEMISTRY IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?? just confirmation that they dated at one point, or hooked up occasionally... god. ANYTHING! more canon specific, i really wanted a scene of donna in therapy or talking to josh about the ptsd / trauma she undoubtedly faced after gaza. when they F I N A L L Y got together, i wish they had more of a conversation about why she quit! because she HAD GOOD REASON to do it, and i wish had talked about how he had treated her after gaza. also, seeing how cj and toby had dealt with rosslyn, and more conversations about cj getting the COS role over josh and how he forgave her for that. just. MORE FOUND FAMILY CONTENT GODDAMNIT i could watch entire episodes of the senior staff + donna just hanging out, i love them to death. LAST ONE I PROMISE- CJ HAVING FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS. or friendships, period. god, i would have died for some amy + cj content swapping stories and making sarcastic jokes, cj helping amy to adapt to the white house after being in a different environment her whole career. CJ AND ANDY! i mean i ship the ot3 and cjandy to death, but even as friends! donna and cj!! the assistants all being friends! just. let these tired women have friends, that’s all i want.

12. headcanon(s)

yeah, i’ve... basically covered these BUT i always have more!!

first off- BISEXUAL CJ. bi cj!!!! it’s canon in my heart. this next one is less of a headcanon and more of a dream, but the ot3! cj/toby/andy is my favorite thing in the world and i love the three of them.

i think cj and josh were a lot closer than we see, and i have many feelings about them sort of being siblings.

also, hc that cj and toby ended up together after the show BECAUSE I NEED IT.

um, donna went to therapy! i feel like the show largely ignored the fact that she was the only one in the car who survived!! and so did josh, especially after he realized a part of the way he treated her after gaza was bc of his guilt about sending her there in the first place, and then donna almost dying.

okay let’s see... 50% of my brain is thinking of tww headcanons at any given moment so-

huck and molly grow up with auntie cj, who wishes she could be more of a parent but is so, so, so thankful for what she gets. i didn't really think cj wanted to get pregnant and have kids, especially with danny, but the show really threw that in there at the last moment lol. the reason for this is NOT “she’s too focused on her career,” trust me. i actually think cj’s mom died from breast cancer when she was pretty young, about 13. it’s heartbreaking, and miserable, and cj doesn’t smile for a month after. her dad was at a complete loss as to how to help her, since he was still dealing with it too. so for about half a year they co-existed in the same house, barely speaking. cj’s passion for politics and journalism eventually led her to come out of her shell more, about a year later, but she didn’t come back to the joyful person she used to be until college. she’s deathly afraid of passing the cancer gene onto her kids, which is why in my brain, the ot3 always had plans for kids but andy was going to get pregnant. (i talk about cj’s thoughts on actual canon andy’s pregnancy so much in my fic, so i should probably shut up now.) also i really think cj works herself to the bone after becoming COS, especially after toby leaves. he was the only thing keeping her from self-destructing, making her sleep and eat and remember to function. i can’t get over allison janney’s acting, the way you FEEL cj’s exhaustion. she has... no self- preservational instincts when it comes to doing her job as well as she can, and that really hurts her mental health, and like. SANITY. charlie and margaret know this and this duo practically running the white house might be my favorite thing about season 7.  also HOW DID THIS TURN INTO ONLY CJ HEADCANONS i have so many other ones!)

QUEER ELLIE BARTLET how could i forget? my random desire for ellie/mallory has no canon basis but i’m obsessed with them. tbh, i’m obsessed with all f/f west wing ships.

josh definitely has anxiety, that’s kind of canon. donna helps him manage it but after she leaves, his panic attacks become a lot more frequent and he forgets to take care of himself. also, i think cj has anxiety too.

WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THIS A PLACE FOR ME TO TALK ABOUT DONNA AND TOBY?!! aleena has a soapbox and she can’t stop, i’m sorry. okay so donna and toby are my favorite unlikely tww friendship, and i’m going to limit this to a few sentences but i will talk about this whenever anyone gives me an opportunity to. BASICALLY donna is the only person who doesn’t take any of toby’s bullshit, (who isn’t in love with him) and he underestimates her at first, yeah, but he is one of the first people to realize donna’s potential. and they have some very good, very small moments where he really sees her strength and she sees that he’s more than the stubborn grump he pretends to be.

i have so many headcanons about josh and toby, and cj and toby, and josh and donna, and cj and donna, and TOBY AND DONNA. josh teasing toby about cj. toby making fun of donna for being in love with josh because he says she’s too good for him but he loves josh like a brother despite what he says. HE SHOWS HER BABY PICTURES AND SHE GUSHES OVER THEM i don't make the rules!!!! anyways that’s NOT all of my headcanons, i just don't want to make you guys read any more lmao. thank you so much for indulging me, i would be thrilled to talk about more of these or to hear more of your headcanons! (this goes for anyone btw) THAT WAS SO LONG AHH.

13. character you wish you could be / aspire to be

cj cregg

14. on-screen crush

yeah, i’m a simple bisexual. cj cregg.

THAT WAS INSANELY LONG BUT SO FUN FOR ME, THANK YOU!!!

[scullyeffect]

i love reading your posts about being a nanny, its something i like the idea of but i dont think id ever be able to do it

it definitely takes a certain type of person i think, but you can also learn with experience. i have friends who suddenly become very ~aware of themselves~ when talking with a kid. like making sarcastic jokes or something and it’s like um...be yourself?? nobody likes being talked to in a patronising tone, or spoken to like a well behaved dog. but seriously, just be yourself. they already think you’re cool af for not being mom lol. and most kids don’t judge. the amount of times i’ve been self conscious about my appearance at work? zero. the amount of times i’ve been scared my boss will catch me on my phone? zero. the amount of times i’ve plucked a wedgie with confidence? every day. i’d been babysitting kids for like 8 years (including one 5 y/o girl who got dropped off at my house at 8 every morning and was picked up at 6pm five days a week for the entire summer when i was 16...wow) before i became an au pair, but i know people who wing it and are completely fine.

i think the real key to it being a job you can enjoy or be “good” at is patience. because at the end of the day you’re not the parent. it’s not fully up to you to discipline the kids. you get to go home at the end of the day. sometimes you have to bring problems up with the parents to deal with because you’re unsure about their protocol (the kids i take care of aren’t allowed to watch tv or use electronics, so when i showed them a trailer for a movie 6 was like ooooh i’m gonna tell mom!! and i was like fuck). one time 6 peed during a 5 floor elevator ride and i had to reassure her that it was okay, then spend ten minutes wiping up the mess with paper towels hoping to hell no one would need the elevator. luckily that sent her right into the shower so there was no war. like i could have lost my temper and been like WHY DIDN”T YOU JUST HOLD IT. YOU CLEAN IT UP. because she had been holding it for like 30 minutes and she’s 6. i learned from this and whenever one of them says they need to go i’m like WHO WANTS A PASTRY REAL QUICK LET’S GO SPEND 5 EUROS TO PEE.

but at the same time you end up being a really important factor in a child’s life. sometimes they’ll ask you questions they feel like they can’t ask their parents: the 15 y/o teenager i lived with for two years came into my room in tears saying she couldn’t figure out how to use a tampon and she didn’t want to ask her mom, the 9 year old got “the talk” from her mom but admitted to me that she didn’t understand and could she ask me some questions. you’re the one (in my case), who’s making sure they’re clean and have eaten and brushed their teeth before the parents come home. you’re the one helping with homework (and it’s really amazing to be able to be the one teaching a kid how to read at home. i’ve gotten to do this twice and it’s so exciting when they start wanting to read some of their bedtime story instead of letting you do it). at the end of the day it’s a really humbling job.

but patience and understanding is really key, also confidence. sometimes babysitters are the good guy, and you can get away with anything because mom and dad are out for the night. i think that’s normal and fun. but when you’re with the kids every day you don’t get to just be the good guy, or they won’t learn anything. and that’s hard!! because again, you don’t have the full parental authority. 

the absolute ABSOLUTE most important thing, which can either be the easiest or most difficult, is getting a solid routine going. especially with younger kids, but it’s good for all ages. once you have the routine set up you’re good for life. obviously sometimes you’ve gotta roll with a doctor’s appointment, or in my case the occasional public transport strike (”who wants to walk a mile today ladies!!!”) it’s especially nice when the kids unconsciously pick up on it and will sometimes prompt you like “how much time do we have to play until bath time?”, or “today is wednesday, so we’re going to the park, but can we go to this one instead of that one?”. so like with the kids i take of now the afternoon routine (except wednesday, which is different) is:

4:30pm: pick up from school, snack while we’re taking the metro back (bc otherwise they get antsy, they haven’t eaten since 11:30)

5:00-5:30pm: homework

5:30-6:30pm: play/read

6:30-7:00pm: one of them takes a bath/shower while i make dinner, the other one sets the table and helps with dinner, or she can read/play

7:00-whenever dinner is finished (normally 7:45pm)

7:45-8ish: second one takes a bath/shower while the other helps clear the table, then she can read/play, after that they both brush their teeth

8:00-9:00 the older one reads while i read to the younger one, or they’ll both listen to me read

also keep in mind this is france where eating late is normal, bedtime is probably later than the US (when i think about putting kids to bed at 7:30 in the US i feel like it’s the afternoon)

idk if you remember, but in september when i started taking care of 6 and 9 i was absolutely miserable. their parents had separated literally weeks before i arrived so the emotional dynamic was chaotic as hell, both apartments were in boxes, they were sleeping over at their grandparents’ house most nights, and here was this new girl they were supposed to trust. i met the girls for about 10 minutes in june when i had an interview, but the next time i saw them was the first day i picked them up from school. they still stress me out way more than the girls i lived with for two years (who were older, but overall just more well behaved), but i love them a lot. for the first two months i seriously thought i’d quit. i was so stressed out every day and felt like i was getting no support from the parents when i brought up problems i was having with their kids. now i really love them and i think they dig me too. 

so i think if you want to do it maybe try to get more experience babysitting and trying to get a steady babysitting job! i remember i would babysit the same toddler pretty often and i always had a loose routine with her so that when i came over she knew what to expect and i didn’t feel so harried at age 17. if you’re looking to be an au pair though, especially in a foreign country, you’ve gotta be picky as hell. i learned that from experience. if you don’t think you can handle a baby but you want to live in paris, you’ve gotta put your job before the location. if you do better taking care of boys (i do way better with girls. they’re so awful to each other if they have a sister, but the chaotic physical energy boys seem to have does not agree with me. they’re like dogs i’m like “time to play frisbee i need to wear you out”) look for a family with boys unless you think you can adapt. if you’re fine with both, go for it. if you want to learn/improve a foreign language, try to find a family that’s cool with you speaking their native language. people looking for anglophone nannies often have a 100% english policy. when i plugged in all my search criteria in 2016 i think i found five families total who fit the specifications. and then in addition to that i skyped all of them so i could try and sense if a Vibe was there. 

i’m sorry this is so long but i don’t have any au pair friends who kind of like...were there for the job as well as the city...so i never got to gab childcare. ask me all the questions.

[sgurrdearg]

Do you ever just. Fucking cry. Lmao.

I’m in SUCH a state of flux right now and it feels like.... it feels like a big crush or a whirlwind romance so I’m miserable and yearning but filled with so much happiness and HOPE and it’s really really fucking overwhelming and I’m doing my best to take a step back as much as I can???? Not sure that’s totally possible I’m ALL UP IN IT but I’m doing my best to think clearly and come up with plans A B C etc etc.

I just. I did talk about this in the tags yesterday but I just wanna type it out bc I find that helps me work thru my thoughts best of all. But when I left uni, I was severely suicidal, convinced that all my health issues were my fault/me overreacting, and then I had to face returning to a previously abusive home, or staying where I was & possibly being made homeless & almost certainly dying one way or another just to get a degree that wouldn’t even be worth it with the grades I was getting bc of the state I was in.

And I was resolute in that I would never return, Dundee was the worst place on earth and all of it was a mistake. But you know, with time and distance, maturing, and putting in the hard work of doing DBT on my own, I came to realise gradually that no, I was thankful to have been given the chance to discover hobbies that were previously inaccessible to me, and I still had love for them. I was thankful to have discovered subjects I still loved a lot (even if I thought myself too stupid to be worthy of them). I was thankful even to have been given the chance to BE disillusioned, to have bad shitty choices I made as a shitty 17 year old slap me in the face and realise that I done fucked up, that no I did have morals and I had to recentre the way I had *thought* the world worked to that and accept that it’s ok to be wrong, and to grow, and be disgusted with your past self. It’s a brutal lesson and I’m ashamed I had to learn it, but it gives me the insight and drive now to do better, even more so than if I hadn’t taken this path.

Ever since I left I’ve regularly had... nightmares? I guess? About being back in my flat, or a different living space, but back at Dundee, back at uni. Sometimes they definitely are nightmares and stress dreams, and other times..... they’ve been stressful and more than a little unpleasant but... there was a wistfulness to them. There was part of me in those dreams that knew it was worth it? And I wanted to be there. And I would wake up with such an aching in my heart, and would put it down to past trauma and that was that.

Because also, I was SO ill when I came back here, that it was a no go. I was NOT able to ever go back even if I had wanted to, and so I got to skip over the closure and processing part of it because it was just.... stamped and filed away for me. It was a life or death decision and I grew to be glad I chose life, even if it did mean being bedridden & housebound forever.

But now, in the past year and a bit.... my life has changed. Discovering I had Coeliac was a major adjustment but actually having answers and treatment and the validation that yes, I was ILL soothed my mind, and body has healed so much. I got on anxiety medication to tackle the PTSD and anxiety that has been plaguing me that my DBT couldn’t handle alone and it works, it actually fucking works I don’t get in a tizzy about every little thing, I actually barely have flashback nightmares any more, and I’m so much better at handling triggers. It’s not perfect but with time it will improve more and it’s WORKABLE.

I have energy and I have life, my mind is clear. I still struggle with ADHD and losing focus, but my doctor has recommended a specialist I could see privately who could help more efficiently than thru the NHS (because we barely have MH services where I live, it’s the worst in the country), to enable me to get proper support and medication for that last little helping hand I need to get my brain ON THE RAILS.

So since I’ve been better I’ve been getting involved in community activism, completely inspired and spurred on by my dear friend, and I’ve been loving it so far even tho I’ve barely begun! And beginning to see a life for me here.

And that’s where it’s all unravelling, really. Because. My life isn’t here. I’ve been in purgatory for five years. I never truly wanted to be back here, I just missed my pets and my parents (for all their faults, but we have all worked SO SO HARD to tackle our issues head on, and I’m proud of it. I don’t think it’s a path I would recommend for most people but I’m lucky in that my mum genuinely didn’t mean bad, and genuinely wanted to do better and put that work in. We have bad blips extremely fucking rarely because our communication is fucking SOLID now. I love them so much, they are my best pals.) and even though I can see myself being friends with the people I have in my life now and truly loving and being fulfilled with the volunteering and activism, and finding connections to get myself some fulfilling and flexible paid work too.... it isn’t home. And I’m the sort of person who doesn’t really have a “home” but. It’s not a place I like to hang out in, part of which is past trauma here, I’m always terrified I will see my abuser, but also, it’s never been a place I loved, even as a teen with actual hangout spots in the city, even as an adult with favourite shops, I feel no ache for them, no nostalgia, this place means almost nothing to me. I was in my old favourite record store a few months ago and it WAS lovely and made my week... but idk. I didn’t feel “it”. And I’m not saying that simply pursuing nebulous feelings and emotions is a smart thing to do, and I’m not basing a life choice on it totally, but when I put my foot down and made the choice to go on a day trip to Dundee back in 2018... it felt like ... open arms. It had barely changed, but even the parts that had I was excited to explore! I saw people I had once known and even talked to one and it hurt my heart but it was GOOD it was HEALING and I felt even then that, oh I could have stayed longer.

But again I just, didn’t pay too much mind to that beyond me being brave and facing my past and my regrets and putting that all in order in my mind, and just put all my emotions down to it being a really BIG thing. But now I’m back as a human being, I’m out there in meetings, I’m writing things up for people, emailing and networking and sending enquiries, talking about projects and talking about hillwalking at random??? And Scottish politics... and meeting new people and telling them my life story over and over has just been drumming it in. That I genuinely miss it. That this was once my life, but in a very different city and environment, and I miss it. I miss the worst parts of it that I know very clearly I would still hate and find hard, I miss the absolute best parts of it, that fill me with so much euphoria I could burst, I miss the quiet nondescript moments that I only remember because I have the memory of an elephant, like sitting folding leaflets on the sofa in the corner of the geography department. Filling in the attendance register and passing it around. Buying snacks for a field trip. Making the monthly walk to go pay rent. Treating myself to a pot of tea while I read my textbook in the café. Feeling homesick and depressed and exhausted, sobbing in front of a taxidermed otter at the museum. I want my worst moments there more than I want my best moments here and I’m frightened that I’m falling into a grass is greener thing, or that I’m romantisising past misery, or that I’m simply nervous about this new life I’m settling into...

But when I look back over the years, the voice quietly thinking or saying “I miss it and I want to go back, I want this life back” has always been saying it. My brain bricked her up to protect me when thinking that was futile, but she’s been growing louder and louder to a crescendo and now, with me being able to put the energy into things here, I can no longer use the excuse that finishing my degree isn’t possible. Because, it is. In theory. And with all of my brain thinking that just once it’s like that wall has come crashing down and this voice is now SCREAMING “I Miss It and I Want To Go Back, I WANT MY LIFE BACK” and I cannot ignore it.

I don’t know if it IS financially possible yet and I need to find it all out before I go nuts but, I’ve discussed it with my parents, and we have plans. It’s possibly possible and that HURTS my heart in a way that only true love and passion can and I just hope. I hope I’m going home. I think I’m doing it for the right reasons, I think I’m ready and at the rate I’m improving health wise I will absolutely be ready when the time comes, whether I can hop in this September or next. I just hope I can get it all ironed out. I want to go home.

[1dffexchange]

(for you) i will try

To: Rory @verorax

From: Vicki @angstarella

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating

Summary: a short story where ex’s are ex’s for a reason, weddings are near-on soul destroying and Harry and Indigo together are just a massive cause for disaster.

Authors Note: strap yourselves in ladies and gents bc she’s an angsty one! it’s been a real pleasure writing this prompt for you rory. i got a bit carried away with this but i hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it. ALSO thank you to Emma @ninetyfovr for the amazing banner xx

i. let’s have a (surprise) wedding

It wasn’t the fact that social gatherings bothered me that put me off being here. It was the fact that it was the first time six years I had been back home. The whole village of Holmes Chapel seemed to be here in Mr and Mrs Twist’s house and all they wanted to know was when I would move back and settle down with a man and have kids with him. It was miserable enough to have those expectations put on you by your own parents, let alone the whole village.

It’s also something nice to hear when you’ve just been dumped by your girlfriend (...well, ex-girlfriend, I suppose) two days ago.

I craved nothing more than to rifle through my bag and pull out a pack of Malboro Gold, light up and inhale the ever-calming smoke that put my anxiety to ease. The e-cigarette I bought twenty minutes before leaving London would have to do. There was no way I was going to give my mother another reason to be on my case. Being a bisexual millennial was enough to make my mother to sprout grey hairs. I didn’t need to add being a closeted smoker to her stress list. The best I could do was a flimsy version of a healthy cigarette to keep my nicotine addiction at bay.

The fiery orange skyline settled down into it’s dark violet dusk as I sneaked out to the veranda overlooking the back garden; trying my best to get a moment's peace from the party inside. Strawberry vapour filled my lungs as I dragged from the sleek black pen, wishing nothing more than to smoke whatever the hell I wanted back at my apartment in London.

“I see you still haven’t quit smoking.”

My body tensed as I felt his presence saunter closer. His sweet yet spicy smell seemed to overtake the lasting lingers of vapour. It was infuriating how it hadn’t changed since the last time I had seen him; almost like he wore it purposely just to piss me off.

“Mind you,” He finally stopped by my side as I ignored him, looking out as far as I could see. “I suppose this is the healthier alternative.”

Rather than the sickly sweet vapour that had filled my lungs just moments before, annoyance replenished every fibre in my body. It was only something that he could do and he absolutely knew it. He was the only person in this entire universe that could flick this switch inside of me and he had great pleasure in doing so whenever he could get the chance.

“Harry Styles. What a surprise.”

“Really?” Harry chuckled as he turned, leaning against the wooden rail of the veranda and staring at no other than me. “You’re surprised to see me at my Mum’s house, at my sister’s birthday party.”

My silence spoke volumes.

“If anything, it should me surprised to see you here. It’s been like, what – four years since you’ve been back here in Holmes Ch–”

“I didn't realise you kept count of my comings and goings Harry.”

My eyes finally met his. Since the last time I had seen them in person three years ago, they had only grown into a richer forest green which knocked the wind out of me. His hair still held those chocolate curls that I ran my fingers through so many times before, it was impossible to keep count. I felt sick that these memories flashed back into my body in such a quick moment. Anxiety pulsated through my veins to the point where my fingertips were on fire.

“Indigo Palmer,” Harry’s eyebrow arched upwards in smugness. “There’s no way I can’t help but keep my eyes on you and wherever you go.”

“Ugh, Harry!” I groaned. “You can’t just say that to me. Not anymore.”

Harry’s eyes dropped mine own, slipping down to where his scuffed up boots crossed together. “You’re right.” His lips rolled inwards for a second, his shoulder jerking slightly. “Sorry.”

The noise of Gemma’s party quietly bounded outside of Harry’s parents house, all while the back veranda offered us the mere silence of our breathing. It was something we had done many times before. Through all of these years that we had known each other, we could talk endlessly about everything and on the other hand, say nothing and appreciate what we had and what we had around us. Now, everything about him hurt me.

“So where is Emily? I thought she would of been here.” Harry lifted his hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, a nervous tick he had ever since we were children. My throat instantly tightened as soon as I heard her name leave his lips. It was two parts of my world that I did not want to mix ever again.

“W–we, uh… She…” My voice fumbled, trying to grasp at any sentence that would make what trying trying to say sound the tiniest bit better.

“We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” Silence thumped in my ear drums. I watched as Harry’s eyebrows furrowed down, frown lines denting his smooth olive skin.

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

As hard as I fought, my eyes found themselves rolling at his ridiculous question. Who the hell did he think he was? My therapist? But as soon as Harry saw them roll, his eyes seemed to follow my lead and rolled back while he shook his head.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s gone on but it looks like you need to talk to someone.” Harry shrugged.

“And that someone should be you? Just like old times then, yeah?” I scoffed maliciously.

The wind rustled against the leaves as Harry thought for a second or two, before shrugging his shoulders once more.

“Well, yeah. Why not talk to me? You always used to talk to me.”

Inhaling deeply, I looked him once more dead in the eye. I hated doing that because all I saw was trust and love every time I lost myself in those eyes of his. That’s why I hadn’t looked him in the eye the last time I saw him and it was all it took for me to break down.

“S–she, uh… She thought I spent too much time at work and focusing on being an associate at the firm I’m currently at. Apparently that qualifies her to… cheat on me I suppose.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispered so quietly, I almost never heard him. “That’s so shit, Dig. I’m really sorry she did that to you.”

Tears welled in my eyes while guilt instantly poured in my lungs. I had felt this three years ago but it still felt fresh – a old wound reopened. I suppose I deserved it. I finally got my karma. I looked up to the sky where the stars were beginning to peak from the night sky, blinking as hard as I could to get rid of them.

“Y–yeah, it only happened a few days ago.” I sniffed. “So if you can like– not tell anyone? That would be great. Mum’s already on my case and I just don’t have the energy to deal with this situation, let alone have her meddle in it.”

Harry’s head nodded profusely. “Yep, sure. You got it. No problem at all. In fact, consider this–”

Before Harry could continue his rambunctious rambling, the door behind me creaked open. Instantly turning around, I watched as Jack and Gemma stumbled out of the house giddily; not realising that their younger siblings were also catching a moments peace on the back veranda until Harry coughed aloud.

“Oh! Here’s where you two have been hiding.” Gemma clapped her hands together. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Turning around, I leaned against the rail beside Harry trying my hardest to discreetly slip my hand that held the e-cigarette behind his back. Thankfully Harry had caught on and shuffled forward slightly so I could do so.

“Well, you found us!” The weight of Harry’s arm suddenly dropped onto my shoulders, pulling me closer into his side. “What’s going on?”

Jack pulled one of the chairs that sat by the back door, scraping its legs against the outdoor tile before plonking his arse in it.

“Need to talk to ya about the wedding.” Jack drunkenly mumbled as he pulled a giggly Gemma down to sit in his lap.

“What wedding?”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I looked at Harry to see if he knew what in the world my brother was talking about but he looked just as confused as I did.

“Our wedding.” Jack shrugged, wrapping his arms around Gemma’s waist. “Mine and Gem’s. You’d both know that if you were inside five minutes ago.”

With a wide grin, Gemma held out her hand that had a small but sparkly diamond on her ring finger that shimmered despite the lack of light. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s gorgeous Gem.” A shocked smile grew on my face.

I hated how miserable I felt. I should have been ecstatic that my brother and his long-time girlfriend were finally getting married. I put on a mask and played my part despite feeling like I was rotting from the inside out.

“Congratulations you two.”

“Yeah, Congrats.” Harry beamed, shaking Jack’s hand before leaning over and kissing Gemma’s cheek. “It’s about bloody time!”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re getting there.” Jack grinned. “Anyways, we came to talk to you about the wedding.”

“We want to have a surprise wedding!” Gemma jumped in, her grin reaching from ear to ear.

“Uh,” my eyebrows furrowed. “I’m a bit confused. How do you expect to have a surprise wedding when you’ve just told everyone in that house you’re getting married?”

“Well, that’s kinda where you two come in.” Gemma began to explain. “We’re wanting to throw a party in a month’s time and while everyone else will be thinking it’s an engagement party, we will surprise them with it being the actual wedding ceremony!”

Before Harry and I could object (or say anything really), Jack piped up. “What Gem’s trying to ask is if you’ll plan our wedding for us.”

‘We’ll pay you for your time and effort!” Gemma assured us. “It’s just, some of the best times we’ve had with each other have been at some of those parties you used to throw back when you two were together.”

“And honestly, if it weren’t for the two of you, Gem and I probably wouldn’t be together. There’s no one else that we trust more than you two to do this.” Jack shrugged as Gemma looked at us with hope beaming from her eyes, making me feel worse by the second.

I took one look at Harry who looked just as unsure as I felt but I knew him. I knew he would do anything for them and while I would have like to say I would too, I wasn’t entirely sure I could.

Harry looked down for a second before looking at me, searching for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give. As soon as the corner of his mouth pulled up, revealing a small smile that would be a true smile truly for the first time in 48 hours, I knew what his answer would be… what our answer will be.

“Sure. We’ll plan your wedding.

ii. let’s get a game plan together

It was a rare occasion for the sun to be out in London, so it was fair to say that I was making the most of it. Actually, a lot of people were. I sipped at my coffee as I sat outside of the nearly full café, watching people bustle by. My legs rarely felt the instant warmth of the sun and god was I loving it. It would have been great, if Harry Styles actually was on time for once.

After learning about Jack and Gemma’s plans for their wedding which they were basically leaving Harry and I in control of, Harry and I had made a plan to meet a week later and get this underway. We only had a month to make this miracle happen for our siblings after all.

Despite the street being filled with people, I instantly spotted Harry’s chocolate curls bounding towards me. If it wasn’t for the tiny blonde child in his arms, I swear I could have murdered Harry on the spot.

“You’re late.”

“Really?” Harry exasperated sarcastically. He somehow pulled the chair out from underneath the table with his foot, all while shooting me a very unimpressed look. “Nothing about the kid in my arms isn’t giving you any clue as to why I might be late?”

“Nope.” I shrugged. “Absolutely none.”

The small girl giggled as Harry lowered her into the seat across from me, his nose instantly following the noise.

“Alright, enough out of you cheeky-monkey.” His palm flattened her wispy strays of blonde hair “What would you like to eat, huh?” She bit down lightly on her bottom lip, her wee eyebrows furrowing as she grew deep in thought.

“A muffin please.”

“A muffin? A fruity one?”

“Yes, A muffin. I’ll pass on the fruity though.” The blonde girl nodded decidedly. “Chocolate will do.”

That sentence alone caused Harry to belt out a full-bodied laugh, to the point where his head tilted back, eyes shut closed with little crow's feet rippling on the outer sides and his palm grasping at his protruding belly. If people weren’t looking at Harry Styles before, they certainly were now.

As Harry got over his laughing fit, wiping away the few stray tears that had rolled down his cheeks, he looked down once more at the girl.

“You be good for Dig, okay? I’ll be back in a few.”

The curve of her ponytail bounced as she nodded profusely before Harry made his way into the cafè, ignoring all of the stunned looks others were giving him. I could only shake my head at him, trying my hardest to hold back the scowl that was threatening to appear. If it wasn’t for the kid staring wide eyed at me, I might have just let it appear.

“So who might you be?” The little blonde thing grinned at me, two of her upper teeth and one on the bottom clearly missing from her smile.

“I’m Lux!”

“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting that.

The last time I had seen Lux, she had only just been a baby; Fast on her feet and hiding away from Harry and I any chance she got. The only reason the memory had stuck with me for this long was because Harry and I had literally lost her in the house for a solid hour and a half.

It was one of the most frightening moments of my life. Here Harry and I were, naïve adults who thought they could look after a baby for the night and we literally lost a child that was under our care. Thank god she hadn’t been taken or had let herself outside! She probably had been laughing at us the whole time as she hid behind the bookshelf in the living room.

“We’ve actually met before.”

“We have?” Lux gasped.

I nodded before taking another sip of my coffee. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you.”

“That’s cool!” She threw me another grin. “Are you Uncle Harry’s friend?”

My lips pursed into a small frown as my eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up in thought.

“Uh… kind of?”

“Oh.” Lux looked down at her lap before snapping back up towards me. “So is your name really Dig?”

“Excuse me?” I frowned once more in confusion.

“Is your name Dig? Because that’s what Uncle Harry’s been calling you today. It’s a little strange if you ask me.”

Inhaling deeply, I rolled my eyes at Harry’s idiocy. Of course he couldn’t just call me by my name properly, could he?

“No. I think that’s just Harry trying to be funny.” That comment seemed to pull another giggle from Lux.

“He’s not very funny, is he?”

“No, he isn’t.” I agreed, giggling quietly along with her. “He’s the type of person you end up laughing at because he thinks he’s hilarious.”

Lux burst out laughing, which pulled a small smile out of me. Before she could add anything else, a chocolate muffin on a porcelain plate was slid in front of Lux. Both Lux and I looked up to see Harry holding a very unimpressed look.

“Excuse me Dig but for your information, I am hilarious.” Harry placed a glass on orange juice in front of Lux before sitting in the chair next to her. “You know that.”

“You are not Harry. You are the opposite of–”

“So what’s your name then?” Lux cut in before I could finish insulting him. I was actually taken aback by it.

“Oh,” I stammered. “My name’s Indigo but most people call me Indi.” I couldn’t help but snare at Harry who just rolled his eyes at me.

“That’s a really nice name.” Lux smiled at me before she promptly turned towards Harry with a frown. “Why don’t you call her by her name? It’s pretty.”

“Because I’ve called her Dig for most of my life. I’m not going to stop now just because you say so.” Harry said as he pulled out his phone from the front pocket of his hoodie. “Now play a game on this while me and Dig sort somethings out, yeah?”

Lux happily took the iPhone out of his hand and tapped away to her heart's content.

“You got that email from Gem, yeah? The one about–”

“What they want for the wedding and what they’ve already got sorted?” I finished Harry’s sentence off, irritation slowly seeping in my veins. “Of course I did. They also asked me to help me plan their wedding, not just you Harry.”

“Woah!” Harry leaned back slightly, eyes wide open in shock. Lux wearily looked over the phone screen, her eyes flicking between Harry and I before focusing on the game she was playing. “That’s not what I meant Dig.”

I knew that wasn’t what he meant. Truly; but I couldn’t help but have my guard up around him. The situation we were in was nothing like we were in before and I couldn’t understand why he was acting like we were best friends again. He had to know I wasn’t in the best state of mind.

“That’s how it sounded.”

From one look, I knew he wanted to argue back. His lips slightly pursed in a small scowl and his nose scrunched to the left. Having knowing Harry for as I had, I instantly picked up on his tells and I could only pray for the sake of Lux and I that he just kept his mouth shut for once.

I slipped my notebook out from my handbag that sat on the only free chair at this table, flipping immediately to the pages where I already jotted a few notes and ideas down since Gemma and Jack had asked us to perform a miracle.

“I think since they’ve already emailed through their guest list, we should just get a start on a booking a venue.” Despite the frown still etched on his face, Harry nodded in agreement as a waitress placed a coffee in front of him and another cup in front of me. We both mumbled our thanks to the waitress before getting back to the subject at hand.

“We could just have it at Mum’s and Robin’s. Don’t have to book anything in advance and no one will think there will be a wedding happening if they turn up there.” Harry commented after he had taken a sip of his black coffee. “Everyone will just think it’s a generic engagement party.”

Harry’s nose twitched when I sighed aloud. “They want our parents to be surprised as well H. The moment a set-up crew and catering turn up to your parents place, they’re suddenly in on the secret.” I shrugged.

“And in my opinion, it’s probably a lot easier to book a venue that can cater for our needs and have everything all in one place than transport everything to your Mum’s and then take it all back. What do you think?” I left the ball in Harry’s court, trying my hardest to not make it seem like I was taking over as the project manager. We were doing this as a team.

Harry sat there for a few moments before nodding to himself. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It was a right pain in the arse waiting on others to bring stuff to us and then wait for them to take it away.”

A wave of relief overcame me when he had agreed with my suggestion. This whole wedding planning business wasn’t going to be an easy ride in the park but at least I could see he was trying too.

“So where do you think we should go?” I asked Harry, ready to write down a list of venues to check out.

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, a few silent minutes passing by. “I don’t think we should go with venues like Crewe Hall or Colshaw Hall. Seems a bit obvious to have a surprise wedding somewhere like that innit’?”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement. “You’re right.”

“What about somewhere like Oak Tree of Peover? I went to Jamie-lee’s wedding there last August and it’s was pretty but not like – overwhelming y’know? It was very low-key.” Harry suggested as he stole a bit off of Lux’s barely touched muffin.

“That’s a really good idea, H…” I said, quickly noting down The Oak Tree of Peover as a venue option.

From memory, I remember it being a lovely venue for a wedding. The Oak-framed barn made it one of the most gorgeous treasures that Cheshire had to offer, overlooking the picturesque countryside that captured our little hometown perfectly. Ideas began popping off in my head, immediately spurring more venues around Holmes Chapel.

“We should probably go do some research on more venues and shortlist the ones we like.” I suggested as I finished writing down the last venue idea I had. Harry nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. “And maybe go to HC next weekend and check out the venues we shortlist?”

“Cool,” I picked up my phone, immediately opening the trainline app to book a ticket back home. “Do you want me to book you a train ticket?”

“Uh, no thank you.” Harry shook his head. “I was thinking you and I could carpool up there. Y’know, since we're both going to the same place to do the same thing.”

“I suppose that make sense. Ooooh! We can go to Dad’s and do the invitations to.” The pen dropped loudly onto my notebook, causing Lux to look up from Harry’s phone. “He’ll have everything we need to do it!”

“Can’t we just get them printed like normal people?” Harry groaned. “We’re already short on time as it is?”

“What’s the point of having a Dad that owns his own art supply store? He’ll love having you around.”

“That doesn’t answer my question Dig.” Harry quipped. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. This wasn’t like him. Normally he would be all over this type of stuff. It used to be me that protested in time-wasting.

“Oh come on Harry! Dad will be thrilled! His daughter visiting him twice in the same month except with his most favourite ex of mine! He’ll love it! And he can help! Pleeeease H?”

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought with doubt written all over his face.

“Look, I’m not budging on the handmade invitations. It’s something I want to do to make this wedding special. But if you don’t want to do that, that’s fine too. I’ll do them myself and you can research into some photographers and DJ’s maybe?” A sigh escaped from me. “Seems more down your alley anyways.”

“Okay then. Sounds good.” Harry just shrugged his shoulders, slowly annoying me. It was like he almost didn't give a shit. I mean, of course he cared about Jack and Gemma’s wedding but when it concerned me and doing my bit to help create this wedding, he just… couldn’t care. I didn’t think that it would affect me so much.

“Harry…” I pleaded. “Please work with me here. I’m trying my best.”

“I know you are.”

iii. let's (try) start the invitations

If it wasn’t the sun peaking through my half-shut curtains waking me up from my deep slumber, it was the birds that were happily chirping away in the tree outside my bedroom. Well, my childhood bedroom at my Dad’s. There was no chance of any birds chirping outside my flat in London.I ached from head to toe.

My body felt stiff as I lay in the measly king-single bed. I could only really narrow it down to a few reasons why that might of been.

I had a non-stop day in the office working on the McNealson case yesterday, trying my hardest to get everything done before focusing solely Jack and Gemma’s wedding; but I had to spend a further 3 hours and 45 minutes making awkward conversation with Harry. Also, the argument I had with Emily minutes before Harry knocked on the flat door didn’t help.

As soon as I stepped into the flat yesterday, I could tell Emily wanted to have another argument. She sat on the couch with her legs crossed at the ankle, nursing a half-empty glass of red wine with a scowl on her face. Now while we still lived together technically, we really didn’t. Since the moment I got back from Gemma’s birthday party in HC, I had avoided the flat like the plague. I hadn’t found it within myself to kick her out of my flat and I couldn’t tell you why. There was something about our relationship that made me act like I was clinging on to a drowning boat, hoping that it would keep me or rather our relationship afloat… but it was the suitcase that had finally sunk it.

“Where are you going?” Emily snided as I pulled my suitcase out of the storage cupboard in the lounge.

“Back to HC.” I mumbled quietly, my lungs concaving out of the pure pain they felt.

“Running away again yeah?” From the corner of my eye, I could see her scoff before finishing the last of her wine. “Don’t know why I’m surprised. You always run away, even to a place you haven’t been back to in six years.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do Em.” I couldn’t help but snap back. “You’re the one who cheated on me, remember?”

“Of course I remember Indigo! You haven’t let me forget it since.” She drunkenly yelled back. “What I want to know is when you’re going to get over it!”

My jaw dropped in shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me the first time Indigo.” She slammed the wine glass back onto the coffee table. “When are we going to get back to normal? When are we going back to being Em and Indi?”

I shook my head despite every part of me being stunned at what she was saying. “I’m not doing this now. I’ve got to pack before Harry gets here.”

This only sparked Emily’s fury.

“Harry?!” She spat viciously. “As in Harry Styles?! Your pop star ex-boyfriend? That Harry?!”

“Jesus Christ Em.” My eyes bugged out at her outburst. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters because it’s him!” Emily nearly screamed. “He’s the only other person you’ve loved besides me, Indi! Can you honestly not see why I’m scared? You left him for me and now you’re just running back to him to spite me.”

“I am not Emily!”

“Yes you are!”

For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Emily was nutting off at me, about Harry nonetheless. We were only carpooling. It just made sense to go there together. Besides, wasn’t she the one I caught cheating on me with another woman in our bed? Why was it all my fault?

And then there was the knock on the flat door. Now it may well could have been Mrs Dowley from across the hall, ready to give us another growling for having an argument this late at night in which I totally agreed with, I had a feeling it might have been someone else that would have fueled Emily’s anger.

It was obvious from the moment Harry knocked on the door that he had heard a decent part of our argument. I noticed his cheeks flushed red and was overall antsy about getting on the road from just his body language. Emily looked past me and just glared at him. Thankfully, I was that angry I didn’t even let him in the door. In fact, I left the empty suitcase sitting in the middle of the lounge.

“You need to be gone by the time I get back on Monday, Em.” My mouth moved before I even realised I was speaking. “You and your stuff. I want it gone. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

“I’m sorry, are you kicking me out of my own home?” Emily choked out, shock evident in the lack of breath she had. I don’t think she quite believed I’d be the one to kick her out.

“My name is on the lease. You’re the one who cheated on me. This was my home before it was ours. You’re the one who’s got to go.”

Silence was the only sound that could be heard. Tears threatened to burst over my inflamed cheeks. Harry stared on uncomfortably, trying to ignore what was happening in front of him.

“If you’re that concerned about where you should stay, may I suggest you–“

“Just stop lawyer talking me Indi! Talk to me normally! We can work this out.” Emily pleaded.

“I suggest you go to that slag whose face you were sitting on top of in our bed and ask if you can stay with her. Tell her that you ruined what was good here and now have nowhere else to go. But as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to do anything for you anymore. I’m done. We’re done.”

Emily began to sob, tears rolling down her cheeks, begging me not to do this. As much as it hurt to see the girl that I had loved cry in front of me, the tiniest bit of relief made me feel like I could breathe again.

“Jack is staying here for a few days while I’m away. You can leave your key with him. Don’t call me.”

Before I could go back on the impulse decision I had just made, I slammed the door behind me, grabbed Harry’s wrist and began to drag him towards the elevator, mumbling a quick “Let’s go.”

I probably pressed the elevator button six or seven times in a row, my fingers shaking as angry tears rolled down my cheeks. I just needed to get out of this building as soon as possible. I just couldn’t bare being in here any longer than I needed to.

“Hey, hey, hey…”

Harry grabbed hold of my shaky hands, turning myself around to face him. His arm curled around the back of my head and suddenly my face was smothered in the confines of the crook of his neck, a place I used to consider a safety net years ago.

“Shhh, you’re okay Dig. I promise.”

It was like he knew exactly what I needed. I let out the deep breath I hadn’t realised what I had been holding. He had offered to go back into the flat and get some clothes for the weekend but I didn’t want him to face the wrath of Emily alone. Thankfully, I had left some spare clothes at Dad’s when I went up for Gemma’s birthday.

In all honesty, I was thankful that Harry had turned up when he did. I’m not sure what I would have done if he hadn't. Everything about yesterday was just as traumatic if not more than when I caught Emily with another woman. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about it; about her; about the betrayal.

A loud bang from downstairs had broken my mental reliving of yesterday. Moments later, a hushed “Fuck!” could just be heard, causing me to forget my tragedy of a life for one second and bring the first genuine smile to my face in days.

“Dad! I hope you’re making what I think you’re making!” If I knew my Dad as well as I did and from judging by all the racket coming from the kitchen, we were having his famous blueberry pancakes. Throwing the covers off, I made my way downstairs with a rumble in my stomach.

“I’ve been craving these all week! I–” I immediately choked once I saw the mop of chocolate curls scarfing down a stack of my pancakes. Harry smirked as he felt my snarl from across the room. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Prinny! That’s no way to talk to a guest.” Dad gasped in shock, taking one look over his shoulder to look Harry, whose smug expression still hadn’t left his big head. “Especially a scrawny pop star one at that.”

“Oi! I’m not scrawny!” Harry protested. “I’ve been working out… a lot!”

My eyes couldn’t help but roll backwards at the both of them. There was a time where Harry used to be afraid coming to my Dad’s house, purely because my Dad was overly protective of his only daughter and young Harry was shagging her; and now here they were. The chummiest of buddies. Unbelievable.

“Why are you here eating my pancakes?” Glaring at Harry, I took a seat next to him before snatching the fork out of his hand. “Don’t you have your own Mum to make you your own pancakes?”

“For your information Prinny,” Before I could stab the fork into the fluffy pancakes on his plate, Harry suddenly snatched the fork back. My nose twitched as I cringed at the horrible nickname leave Harry’s mouth. “My Mum’s in London for a girls weekend with Gem. That’s why Jack’s been booted to your flat. So I’ve come to eat your Dad’s pancakes instead.”

“God, I wish you two wouldn’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

“It’s a wonderful name!” Dad stated with certainty. He slid a plate of my very own pancakes in front of me, handing me a fork so I could also gain some sustenance. “I put a lot of thought into that name when you were born.”

“It’s not that hard to put Princess and Indi together Dad. Anyway, that isn’t the point. The point is that I am a 24 year old woman and I shouldn’t have to be ridiculed by that ridiculous nam–” I tried to argue but before I could continue, a fork full of pancake was rather rudely shoved into my mouth.

Harry tried to hold back his laugh but I could see his cheeks twitching. “Shut up and eat your pancakes, yeah? Your Dad and I don’t have time for this nonsense. We’ve got invitations to make and party venues to look at.”

“I’ve got to agree with young Harry here Prinny.” Dad thought to add his opinion, all for Harry to grin ear to ear. “We’ve got to get down to the art shop before ten if you don’t want to be caught with Harry by Mrs Birchingham. Who knows what rumours she’ll spread around Holmes Chapel if she catches you two in the same shop.”

“Yeah Prinny, we can’t have that.” Harry chided, getting his kicks from agreeing with my Dad and more so by annoying me. I was just glad he had changed his attitude within the week since I saw him last and oddly, it was rather nice to be sitting here at my Dad’s with his company and my favourite pancakes.

iv. let’s find a venue to party in

“So I got the photographer, videographer and DJ booking confirmation just before.” Harry said as he chewed through his burrito, barbeque sauce slowly dripping down from the corner of his mouth. My eyes rolled as I lifted my hand up to his mouth, wiping away the brown sauce that was irritating me.

“Oh,” I wiped the excess sauce onto the side of Harry’s jeans, as we walked towards the church. “Who’d you get then?”

Harry stumbled over his own feet, bumping into me slightly as he tried to correct himself. “One of Gem’s friends works for a photography company in Manchester and her colleagues is going to do the photography and videography.”

“You sure Gemma’s friend won’t find out. They’re both really adamant about people not finding out the wedding.”

“Yes, Indigo. I’m sure.” Harry’s chest rose as he deeply inhaled, letting out possibly the loudest sigh anyone on earth had heard in its entirety. “Madeleine and Seth are going to the job as freelance photographers, so the actual job doesn’t go through the company. That way Francesca won’t find out about the wedding.”

“That’s good. What about the DJ?”

Harry’s nose scrunched slightly as he thought. “Well, there’s this guy James that Nick is kind of mentoring with the whole DJ-ing thing. He actually did a really great job at Nick’s New Years party so I thought I’d ask him and he said he’s good to go for the 27th.” Harry shrugged. “And I figure since Nick is invited, he can help out if anything goes wrong.”

My neck immediately snapped towards him. “Are you expecting things to go wrong with him? Why on earth would you hire him if you think he’ll do something wrong?”

Harry’s eyes bulged out in astoundment. “Jesus Dig, I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did!” My voice grew higher in annoyance. “You said that Nick would be there if any–”

“I said that Nick would be there to help out if anything god for bid goes wrong. It’s not a bad thing Dig. You need to calm down.” He huffed, taking another bite before storming off in front of me. I didn’t reach him until I got to the magnificent french doors that lead into the foyer, the door just slamming in my face as Harry walked through.

I walked in the moment the young blonde girl at the reception say “Oh my god! You’re Harry Styles!” You would think that by now people would be used to Harry popping his head up every now and again around Holmes Chapel, but for some reason there was always one twenty-something-year-old girl that would make the biggest deal of him being in his hometown.

I watched as his mouth instantly lifted into a smile but into one of those fake smiles to appease people from his true feelings. I could tell he felt uncomfortable all from the slightest movement of his nose twitching to the left. Years ago, he would used to tell me how he hated being recognized as Harry Styles from One Direction in his own hometown. In his head, he was just Harry; a normal chap with a not so normal job, returning home to see his family and friends. To have people make a big hullabaloo

“We’re booked under the name Palmer to view the wedding ceremony and reception areas.”

“Oh,” the young girl frowned instantly as I stood besides Harry. “Your getting married to her? I thought you were with Cami–” Her mouth couldn’t help direct at Harry with some disgust. She couldn’t have possibly known how close that reality could have come true. It hit me like a rock sinking to the dark depths of the ocean, except in my heart.

“No,” Harry coughed uncomfortably, interrupting her before she could finish off saying his last girlfriend’s name. “We’re here to plan a surprise engagement party for our friends.”

“Is Evelyn here? We were booked in with her to show us around.” I tried my hardest to redirect us to what Harry and I were actually here to achieve today.

“No sorry. She went home sick today. I can help you out today though. Follow me through here.”

She pointed her oddly creepy smile towards Harry, completely ignoring me as she opened the door behind her. “My names Charlotte, if you wanted to know.”

Charlotte showed us around the grounds and the venue which seemed to be fine. It was a little country motel that would’ve needed an entire book out just to get the venues, but the set up on the riverbank made up for that. It was one of the things that had caught my eye when Harry and I began researching venues and unbelievably, Harry and I agreed that it completed the vision Gemma and Jack wanted for their special day.

However, it was obvious that she had no care for why I was around. It was all about Mr Popstar himself. Now while she happily informed Harry that they could organise rain cover if needed for the ceremony and that they had an onsite vendors that we could use to execute our vision, the venue could not hold the number of guests that had already RSVP’d back, let alone the number of people who had been invited to the engagement party/surprise wedding and we had no availability to valet parking.

Despite the few hiccups the venue provided, we were seemingly moving towards the agreement that this would be the right place to have the wedding. We could book the out of town guests into the available accomodation and undoubtedly Jack and Gemma’s family could bunk in at our parents houses. The kitchen was more than satisfactory for any catering company to use as their facility. It was ticking most of the boxes on our checklist.

Harry and I had been standing in the corner of the ball room, discussing where the best possible place to put the DJ booth while Charlotte had briefly run off to get some more information for us when my phone had let off a message notification. Scrambling through my handbag, I finally found my phone and was met from a message from Emily.

Emily Xx:

so that’s it huh? You’re fucking him again? You fucking HATE everything about him Indi! I fucking knew you would do this Indigo! Let me remind you one of the many reasons you left him for me! Here’s another article ridiculing you for hanging around the UK’s biggest womaniser http://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/762998/harry-styles-rekindles-romance-with-childhood-sweetheart-indigo-palmer/

My throat instantly tightened as I read every word in her text, tears threatened to spill from the rims of my eyelids. My thumb shakily tapped on the link she had oh so graciously shared with me all while my anxiety heightened.

I had already read the article and was already twenty hateful tweets in when Harry noticed the tears that had escaped, most likely dragging down my non-waterproof mascara down my cheeks.

“Hey, hey Dig?” Harry hushed as he instantly stood in front of me, the pad of his thumb running underneath my eye. “What’s wrong?”

“W–we c–can’t have the wedding here.” I managed to choke out.

“What? Why?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“B–because Charlotte or whatever her name was has b–been posting pictures of us the whole time we’ve been here.”

“No she hasn’t, has she?” I nodded sorrowfully. I said nothing more, just handing over my phone to the endless amounts of reactions that seemed to be popping off every millisecond. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He knew how hard I took everything to heart and it was one part of his world that played part in destroying our relationship.

But somehow, I picked my head up.

My eyes flickered up with very little movement, just to gauge any indication of how he felt, despite in my bones knowing how upset he would have been. It was most likely the worst decision I had made today.

Why?

I watched how his face remained stern when he had finished reading the link, tapping the top left of the screen to return to the message thread between Emily and I; only to drop the moment he had began reading that message she had sent.

“So I’ve got the booking information here for you. A deposit will need to be paid of course. So I was thinking we–“

“I’m sorry.” Harry began warily. “We’re going to have to go somewhere else.”

“B–but, I’ve got the b–booking forms here.”

“Sorry.” Harry said bluntly. “I can’t hold a private event where staff are going to be posting pictures online before the actual event happens.”

He took hold of my hand, ever so gently and guided me back out to the entrance and carried on holding it until he had opened the passenger door of his car for me, waiting to get in.

We only could’ve been driving for two minutes in dead silence, only the noise of the tyres crackling over the loose gravel could be heard until Harry coughed uncomfortably.

“Dig, I–“

“Are we stopping for a cigarette?”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

I took a deep breath in, the oxygen filling my lungs trying it’s best to ease the anxiety flowing through my body. What my body need was a tequila shot and a hit of nicotine to stop me from going crazy.

“It’s just an article.”

“It’s not just an article.” Harry said, anger seeping through his tone. “Our trust was betrayed; especially yours.”

I couldn’t argue that.

“And I know you had your reasons for leaving me–“

“Harry–“

“But she had no right to try manipulate you with that article like that. It actually makes me sick to think she’s treated you like this for who knows how long.”

Harry swiftly pulled his car onto the side of the road. “Please Harry, just–“

“Indigo,” The calluses on his hand softly scratched at my skin as he held my chin towards him. Sympathy poured from his forest green eyes, while mine were already bloodshot from the tears I couldn’t seem to hold back. “You deserve better… actually no, you deserve the best. And what she gave you just then was certainly not it.”

Before he could go any further, I quickly unclipped my seatbelt and threw my arms around his neck, my nose hiding in that crook I would find comfort in so many years ago. His lips pursed against the shell of my ear, peppering light kisses there as his arms wrapped themselves around me.

“I just – I need you to know that and no matter what, I’ve still got your back. You’ve got to know that.”

I sniffled there for a few moments, the beating of his heart the only noise being the only thing I could hear.

“Can we have that cigarette now?”

“Yeah Dig. We can.”

v. let’s find someone to cook us some food (but I want cake)

“Jesus Dig, could you hurry up? I am starving.” Harry complained, lying on my bed staring up at the millions of fairy lights that scattered across the ceiling. I rolled my eyes at his childish antics, clipping the butterfly to the back of my earring.

“I’m literally ready. Let me just get my shoes on and then we’ll go.”

“Well it’s about time.” He leaned up on his elbows. “You told me not to eat breakfast before this. Why would you tell me that if you planned on being this late.”

“We’re actually right on time. Our appointment isn’t until 11, which is 20 minutes away.” I slid on one shoe before throwing my foot up into Harry’s lap, saving me from bending down and buckling my own shoe.

“You do know it will take us more than 20 minutes to get there.” Harry couldn’t help but snide as he slid the leather strap into the gold buckle. “You’ll be lucky if we get there in half an hour.”

“Oh calm down, would ya?” I sniped wittily. “I Google Maps’d it this morning. It’ll take us 22 minutes to get there by car.”

“You can’t trust those things Dig. They’re not 100%–“

“Your mother really should have named you Harold, you know. You have the personality of a cynical 84 year old man.”

He glared up at me as he finished buckling my shoe. “I am a cynical 84 year old man.”

“Well, be a not cynical gentleman for once and do up my other shoe please?” The shoe hung from my fingers in front of him, the gold buckle clinking together as it swayed side to side. Harry huffed, almost snatching the shoe away. I nearly toppled over when I lifted my other foot up, Harry immediately getting hold of my hands and placing them on his shoulders to balance myself.

“Right, that’s you ready to go.” He released my foot from his grasp.

“Thank you.” I patted his shoulders once, his snarl slowly forming into a discreet smirk. “Can we go now? I don’t want to be late.”

“Oh, so it’s now you don’t want to be late?”

I didn’t even give him the satisfaction in answering, leaving him behind in my old bedroom at my Dad’s to get in his car.

I had been surprised at how easily we had fallen into this weird friendship we had going on. We still argued almost every chance we could get, but since that text message Emily sent last weekend, we were still able to get along just fine for the sake of planning this wedding. Even though Harry was most likely acting out of pity, I didn’t mind spending my free time with him. If anything, it reminded me of why I had fallen for him the first time.

“Would you look at that! We’re here with time to spare.”

We had pulled up to Scoundrels two minutes earlier than Google had anticipated, a smug smile perched right up on my face as Harry parallel parked outside of the café. Harry had no trouble in telling me to fuck off which had just made me more smug.

The bell rang behind us as we walked through the doors and memories flooded in like a tidal wave. Scoundrels hadn’t changed one bit. Both Harry and I looked to the right where our table sat.

I remember we could have only been about fourteen when our Mum’s had first dragged us there. Mum and Dad has only just divorced and Anne was wholeheartedly there to support our family in need. While Mum cried about the inevitable end of her relationship to Anne, Harry and I were forced to awkwardly sit with each other to the table in the right while Jack and Gem were out with their mates and over time, by sitting at that table playing the most stupidest games with each other, Harry and I used to both agree that it was one of the best things that had happened to us, because it was the beginning of us; the beginning to our adventure.

“No fookin’ way!” A loud voice boomed from the counter, both of our heads swiftly turning towards the loud noise. “What are you doing here?! Are you two shaggin’ again?”

Harry burst out in laughter, clutching at his stomach as ZZ stood behind the counter, pure and utter shock written all over his face.

“Zima!” Darcy squealed as she ran from behind the kitchen and stood in the doorway. “You can’t just ask them that!”

“Well why didn’t you tell me they were our 11 o’clock appointment?! I would have had time to freak out before they turned up here.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!”

“Nice to see you too Zuzima.” Harry grinned as he made his way over to ZZ, wrapping him up in a big ol’ hug. “And it’s nice to hear you still care about our sex life.”

“Harry!” I exclaimed, whacking his arm with the back of my hand.

“What?!” With his eyes wide, Harry tried his best to act like he didn’t know what he had said.

“Ignore them love,” Darcy quickly wrapped me up in a sweet hug. “Their brains operate at a far slower rate than ours. Makes us girls superior, I reckon.”

“Oi!” ZZ piped up. “You best take that back. Gender equality and all that.”

“You’re right darling, I’m sorry.” Darcy huffed playfully as she let me go and set her eyes on Harry. “Now get over here you. Haven’t seen you in months H. How have you been?”

I walked over to ZZ with a small smile on my face. I hadn’t seen him and Darce in years. I think the last time I might have visited would have been when I was visiting H on tour with the One Direction lads at one of their Manchester concerts, which was well over four years ago.

“Hiya Zeez,”

A lot like Scoundrels, ZZ and Darcy hadn’t changed a bit either, so it wasn’t like I was nervous about that. I on the other hand had changed and from what I could tell, it wasn’t for the better. But ZZ just stood there with his kind smile and his arms out ready to give me a hug. We stood in each other arms for the longest time, just swaying side to side, holding each other tight. I actually hadn’t realised how much I had missed the both of them.

“Long time, no see sweetheart. You alright?” He mumbled quietly.

“Could kill for a decent coffee and a bit of cake.”

ZZ bellowed out a laugh, letting me go. “That I can sort that out for you. Go take a seat and I’ll bring us some.”

We all settled down on the larger table in the middle of the café, about two tables away from our self proclaimed spot. The bitter yet familiar aroma of ZZ’s coffee filled the café and I could already see from the look on Harry’s face, he was bloody happy about getting some coffee and food into himself.

“So I’m a bit confused, like…” ZZ slid my Mocha in front of me and promptly sat down beside me while Harry and Darcy chatted amongst themselves on the other side of the table.

“Are you guys, y’know… getting married?”

My eyes bulged out in shock as I sipped my coffee. I got that much of a shock, I ended up choking mid-sip. Harry had to pat my back rather brashly to help ease my coughing fit. ZZ immediately sat up straight, ready to explain himself in the fastest way possible.

“D said this appointment was a engagement party sampler and possibly a cake tasting. I see that there’s no ring in your finger, but I thought you and H were keeping it secret.”

“Zima!”

“What?!” He exclaimed, confusion written all over his face.

“We’re not getting married, ZZ.” Harry said so carefully, as if he were trying not to break his own heart again with the subject of us and marriage. If anything, it added another crack into my own shattered heart. Darcy’s eyes flickered between the two of us as if her eyes were following a tennis match.

“Jack and Gems are actually getting married and they wanted to have a surprise wedding as soon as possible. So they asked us to plan it for them.” He managed to snap back to normal, the knuckle of his index finger rubbing at the tip of his nose.

“Oh.” ZZ responded disappointedly. There was no secret that he was definitely one of our #1 supporters. We had our first date in his café. Of course he was disappointed that it wasn’t us reuniting our love. “That’s well good innit’?”

“Yeah,” Harry looked over at me, a small smile reaching towards me. “We think so.”

“So what were they wanting to have for food?” Darcy asked after she finished sipping her tea. “Do they want to serve a big lunch or dinner, or kind of have a smorgasbord of food throughout the afternoon?”

“Well they’ve kind of left that up to Harry and I, so we were thinking that we could have smorgasbord set up on the day.” I explained. “That way people can help themselves throughout the day if we were able to do that.”

“Absolutely!” ZZ clapped his hands together. “We’d probably need to bring our portable container with our gear in it if your venue doesn’t have a decent kitchen in it.”

“We’re waiting to hear back from two venues and one of them won’t have a adequate kitchen, but they will have the room for the portable container to be onsite.”

“Great,” Darcy wrote down in her notepad. “Now what kind of food requirements were you hoping to have?”

“Well ultimately, we would like a vegan menu if possible.” I tried to elaborate. “A lot of Gemma’s friends are vegan, but there are a few of Jack’s rugby mates and a couple of my Uncle’s that like a good roast.”

“What Dig is trying to say is that we’d like the best of both worlds.” Harry laughed, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “And we’d rather like it if you could make the wedding cake to

“Harry darling,” Darcy curled her fingers under his palm and squeezed his hand gently. “We’d do anything for you lot, especially after you helped us out a few months ago H. It be a pleasure to do this for your family and yours too Indigo. We’re really honoured that you both chose us to help you with your siblings wedding.”

“Right,” ZZ clapped his hands, standing promptly out of his seat. “With that being said, I’ll bring out what I’ve prepared, yeah? There’s a killer red velvet I want you to try Indz. Come give me a hand Darce?”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as ZZ and Darcy both walked into the kitchen.

“What did Darcy mean when you said you had helped them out?”

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if it were nothing of importance. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on Harry. Tell me.”

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply, his eyes shining a vibrant forest green my way. “Mum told me Scoundrels was going to close just after Christmas, so I popped in for a visit to see why ZZ and Darcy were shutting up shop. The people that used to own the building were going to put the price of their rent up astronomically and they couldn’t afford to keep running the business when Aaliyah was going to go university next year.”

“So what did you do?”

“I bought the building. Well, I was going to gift it to them but being the people they are, they wanted to pay rent. So I agreed given that I was allowed to put the rent into a university fund for Aaliyah. But the building is theirs. They just don’t know that their names and Aaliyah’s is on the deed.”

I could hear ZZ and Darcy bickering in the kitchen but that hadn’t deterred my attention from the sweetest boy I knew, if not - the sweetest on this earth.

“You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.”

I remember first saying that to him when we were sixteen.

He had been in the middle of the live shows for X Factor and was loving everything about his new life - the girls, the city, not going to college at eight in the morning. But he had heard through Anne that my Dad had just moved back to Holmes Chapel two years after his divorce with Mum to be reconnect with me and Mum was not dealing with it well, to the point where she nearly had a mental breakdown. So, he and Gemma invited me up to London for the week and any free time he got was spent with Gemma and I doing all the tourist-y shit around London.

So I said the words at the end of my trip - “You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.” He laughed boisterously, and shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It was just one of those things that stuck with us. To this day, I would say it was one of the best weeks I’ve ever had.

“N-no, I’m not.” He almost never replied to what I had just said, disbelief stricken all over his face. I could see his mind racing at one million miles per hour.

My hand went to his knee, the pads of my fingertips applying the slightest of pressure in comfort.

“Just because you don’t think so, doesn’t mean it’s not true Harry. You are inconceivably good.”

vi. let’s get everyone on the same page

We were only a few days away from Jack and Gemma’s wedding and while everything seemed to be ticking along just fine, I had to go back to London for the last two trial days in court for the McNealson case.

I had already anticipated that my boss Mr Rodgerson would call me in to stand apart of the defence team when it came to the end of the trial. Thankfully for Mr Rodgerson and I, Judge Heatherly had come out with his verdict in our favour just before three, meaning I’d be back in Holmes Chapel just in time to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub. It also helped that Jack had lent me his car to use for the week, meaning I didn’t have to wait around for another 45 minutes for the next train back to HC.

I didn’t think anything would go array when I pulled into Dad’s driveway, especially when all I was doing was dropping off a some clean clothes and my dress for the wedding; but as soon as I opened the car door and I heard two voices yelling at each other, voices so familiar it threw me back to my childhood, I just knew I’d be running late for the pub.

“Why didn’t you let me know Matt?! For fuck sakes, she’s my daughter too!”

“I thought you knew Jules!”

It was almost like I was 12 again.

Mum was stood in the kitchen, red in the face and fuming while Dad stood in the doorway to the dining room, arms out in disbelief, not knowing what he had done wrong this time.

“Why are you two at each other’s throats again?”

They both froze when they saw me come in the back door. Before Dad could even say hello, Mum directed her fury towards me.

“Why have you been staying here on and off for the past month?” Mum spat viciously. “Actually no, why have you not bothered to come see me once since you’ve been back?”

My shoulders dropped as I let out an audible sigh. “It’s not what you think Mum.”

“What do you mean it’s not what you think? What else am I meant to think when the only parent you see after six years of not coming home is the one who left you and your brother for two years of your life?”

“Julia! You can’t ju–“

“Mum,” I cut Dad off, knowing that they were both just egging each other on for a bigger and worse argument. “You obviously know that I’ve been helping Harry plan Jack and Gem’s engagement party then, yeah?”

Mum pursed her lips into a small scowl before nodding her head timidly.

“And you know that while I’ve been doing that, I’ve also had the big McNealson on as well right? We found out this afternoon that we won the trial.”

Mum and Dad stayed silent, both of their faces showing small telltale signs of guilt.

“I’ve just been busy Mum. I’m not trying to ignore you or cut you out of my life. From what Jack’s told me, you and Steven have his girls every other weekend and that’s okay. I just thought Dad’s was the most convenient place to stay because he has the room. If I’m honest, Dad and I have hardly spend any time together while I’ve been back and forth; but I’m sorry I made you feel like I was leaving you out of my life.”

Mum’s lip quivered as a small tear rolled down her cheek. Dad looked down at his boots sorrowfully as he leaned against the doorway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you caught Emily cheating on you before Gemma’s birthday, Indi? I could have helped you with that.”

“What?!” Dad stood up immediately, his eyes running wild with outrage. “She cheated on you?!”

Mum’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know!” Dad huffed. “Would’ve driven up to London myself and let her and the world know she isn’t and would never be good enough for my girl. Would have shat in her shoe too if Indi wanted me too.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the complete 180 degree change between the two of them. While I had known for the longest time that they really didn’t get along, they were both ever so protective Jack and I. This was a good reminder to how lucky we were to have parents like them despite their flaws.

“Look I appreciate that you guys are both so protective of me and I love you both so much, but Emily and I… that was something I just had to deal with myself. There wasn’t anything or anybody that could fix how things turned out or how I felt. Only I can do that, okay?”

Dad bit down on his lip and nodded his head while Mum ran her thumb under her eye to get rid of the stray tears that had rolled down her face. A messenger notification popped off my phone holding the conversation to a stand still. I knew who it would be and I knew I was now running late.

Harry: Where are you?

“And Mum,” my voice shook as I entered unknown territory with my mother. “You’ve got to let the whole Dad disappearing for 2 years thing go. Your feelings are validated about the whole situation, but Jack and I have made our peace with Dad. So if you’re going to have a go at him, express your feelings to him and move on. Don’t use Jack and I as ammunition against him. He’s never done that to you, okay?”

Mum sniffled as she nodded, relief seemed to pour out of me considering she hadn’t gone off on another tangent.

“Right.” I coughed in the uncomfortable silence. “I only came to drop some clothes off. I’m running late to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub.”

“Hey kiddo,” Dad stopped me in my tracks waving me toward him, my suitcase still sitting on the back step. “Come here.”

I walked into his arms and wrapped my arms around his torso. “I’m so proud of you. Congratulations on winning the McNealson case.”

“Yeah congrats Bubba.” Mum said after Dad let me go, wrapping me up into her own big warm hug. “Love you so much.”

Harry: seriously? Why is it always me that’s on time? Why can’t you or your brother or my bloody sister make it to planned things on time?

Me: calm ur fucken chill mate, OMW. B @ G&D in 5 mins. Also, b a darlin and order me a cider

I left my parents together but not as how I had arrived. They were both sat down in the lounge with a cup of piping hot tea in front of them, calmly talking things through. Jack was not going to believe me when I told him what state I had left our parents in.

The G&D had been every Holmes Chapel child’s first legal drinking hole, except my own. I had one drink there the day I turned 18, a glass of Pinot Noir with the Toad in the Hole I had ordered along with dinner. Three days later, I had moved all of my belongings from my Mum’s house to my small studio apartment in the middle of London and began my life there.

So it wasn’t like I knew the ins and outs of the place, but I could spot Harry sitting at the far left table with a half drunken pint of beer and a cider on the table.

“You alright, H?”

“Would be better if you lot turned up on time.” Harry snarled, sliding my cider over before taking a decent sip of his pint. “How’d your trial go?”

“Judge Heatherly went in our favour. Ms Cindy Stewart will receive a reparation payout of £2.6 million from McNealson and Sons and another investigation into Mr Carter McNealson’s workplace harassment claims will start next month.” I shrugged before downing half my pint of cider in one go. “A good day's work if you ask me.”

“So the bastard and his father got what was coming for them, eh?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

“I–I uh,” Harry lifted his arm up to scratch the back of his neck. “I ordered some food. Wasn’t sure if you had dinner or not. I haven’t. So I… ordered food?” A laugh that began at the core of my body escaped me.

“You and pub food? I can’t quite believe it!”

“Shut up.” Harry quipped. “Nothing wrong with pub food.”

“That’s where you draw the line. Pub foods okay but when it comes to a 6 pack of Chicken McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce at one in the morning, it’s suddenly a catastrophe.” Harry glared at me briefly as the young waitress placed our food on our table. At least she got something that resembled a smile out of him.

“Get over it. I’ve got important things to talk to you about before Jack and Gems get here. Mrs Birkenridge called and said if we still wanted to book her homestead, we could. Her daughter is going to be around looking after the place while she’s visiting her son in America.”

“That’s good news!” And it really was. There were so many places around Holmes Chapel that we loved but with it being a small town meant that the venues were even smaller. The only other venue that could hold the number of people we were accounting for was the hotel that caused my meltdown a few days ago – and we certainly were not going back there. It was fair to say we were kind of banking on the Birkenridge Homestead.

“She also said that we can use the bedrooms if we need which I thought was lovely of her.”

“That is lovely of her to do that.” I agreed. “Did you give her the deposit?”

“Transferred it on the spot. Told the set up crew and ZZ and Darcy to meet us there tomorrow so we can get it set up and sorted.”

He was acting odd. We had been counting on Mrs Birkenridge to come through and she had. I couldn’t understand why he was acting… grumpy.

“What’s going on Harry?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, frown lines deciding to make an appearance on his forehead.

“Nothing.”

“Harry,” I tried once more. “What’s making you grumpy?”

His chest rose, uncertainty written all over him.

“Dad doesn’t think he’s going to make it.” Harry said, defeat laced in every syllable. “No matter how hard I’ve stressed to him how important it is for him to be here, he just… says he won’t come.”

Sadness seeped in my lungs, weighing my chest down all because I knew how the very act of Harry’s father not coming to his sisters engagement party/wedding hurt him to the core.

The topic of his Dad was an ultimate mess for not only Harry but for anyone who had the pleasure of dealing with his Dad. If it weren’t for the positive mindset Anne had instilled in her son, there would be no relationship with him at all.

“Do you want me to call him myself? I have no problem doing so. I’ve done it before.”

“Nah,” It was the first smile Harry had cracked since I arrived at G&D. “Gem reckons she doesn’t mind if he doesn’t turn up but like, I do. Like, if I were a Dad, I’d want to walk my little girl down the aisle. I don’t know why any father wouldn’t want to be at their daughter's engagement… or wedding. I don’t know. It’s all a mindfuck innit’?”

I nodded understandably. He was right. It was a mindfuck.

The messenger noise halted our conversation.

Jack: won’t be making it sis. the girls have turned up for drinks with gem so i’m off 2 deano’s 2 have some drinks with the boys. tell h he’s more than welcome 2 join

Me: wow thanx 4 the invite arse. U 2 better be at mrs birkenridge’s @ lunch. xx

“Well, guess who’s bailed on the meeting they planned?”

Harry rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of disappointment. “Bloody typical.”

“Well,” I clapped my hands together. “I don’t see why we should waste the rest of our night.”

“What do you mean Dig?”

“I’m saying we should make the most of our free night not planning this wedding. I don’t know about you but I could do with a decent night drinking.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he pondered the possibility of spending the night with me.

“Fuck it.” He smiled once more, before necking down the rest of his pint. “Well go on then. To the bottom.”

That’s all it took for me to chug the rest of my cider and order us 2 shots of tequila each and another round of drinks, a start to interesting night.

vii. let’s get a start on this wedding

I could hear chirping.

Why could I hear chirping?

I took three deep breaths, my head thumping and my mouth drier than the Sahara desert. I couldn’t even bare the thought to open my eyes. If it weren’t for my turning stomach, I would have stayed in my deep slumber. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the weight on top of my abdomen, pressing all the wrong places

“Get off.” I mumbled, squeezing my eyelids shut tighter as the daylight outside woke me up. Trying my hardest to push the weight off, I began to breathe quicker, my mouth watering at an insane rate as my turning got worse than before. “Get off. Get off. Get off.”

A sigh of relief escaped me when I managed push the weight off me. Flinging the sheets off me, my eyes shot open and I ran to the bathroom, my stomach emptying into the toilet as soon as I collapsed in front of the toilet. The bathroom was beginning to spin once I had finished, so there I stood at the basin, stark naked brushing the remnants from the night before off my teeth. My thighs ached to the point where without the motivation to vomit, I wasn’t sure I could walk.

I spat the remaining toothpaste into the basin, the running tap washing the foam down the drain. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Harry standing behind me in the reflection, still half asleep and stark naked as I was. He reached around me, twisting the tap to the point the water stopped running.

“Turn around.” His voice croaked. It had always taken a bit for his gravelly voice to warm up in the morning.

Harry guided my hands to hook behind his neck, before running his own down my body, leaving a wake of goosebumps, settling at the back of my thighs.

“Jump.”

My legs locked around his body, while my eyes found comfort in the darkness of the crook of his neck.

“You’re game.” I mumbled as Harry carried me back to my bedroom. “Walking around like this in my Dad’s house.”

“Calm down.” I heard him kick the door to my bedroom, as it bounced off the wall and back into us. “Your Dad left for work a couple of hours ago. He’s not exactly quiet when he leaves for work.”

My back hit the mattress gently as Harry lowered me down, a kiss placed on the very corner of my mouth which melted all my limbs to jelly. He draped the sheets over my body before occupying the space next to me like he had the night just been. His head rested by my right shoulder, eyes already shut closed. The calluses of his hand tickled at my hip as Harry pulled me closer to him.

“H?” I asked so quietly, I wondered if he had heard me. My fingertips ran through the mess of his hair. Harry seemed to have liked it because he had shuffled closer to me and did this weird, purring thing.

“Mmmm…”

“We had sex.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled smugly. “We did.”

We lay in silence for a bit, the only noise was from the birds chirping outside my window. And while it seemed quite slow and steady out there, in here my brain could not stop running at one million and one miles per hour.

“Do you think Dad would of heard us last night?”

“Oh yeah no doubt.” Harry chuckled. “Remember that time he stayed with us? The night of your graduation? You were almost louder than that night, I reckon.”

“Oi, no I wasn’t.” I disagreed.

“Whatever you say Dig.”

Yesterday seemed like forever ago. While bits of it were a haze, there were times last night that were clear as day. I remember when Harry backed me into the corner, telling me how beautiful I looked. I told him to piss off. I remember tasting whiskey off of his tongue when he kissed me on the taxi home. I remember feeling so satisfied with colour purple that grew on the crook of his neck, admiring the handiwork I had done on him. I remembered what it was like to just have him in such a vulnerable state, the intimacy we shared almost identical to what we used to share with each other all those years ago.

Rather than the experience being soul-shattering and painful like I thought it would turn out to be, I felt loved; something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Without knowing so, Harry and I fell into another deep slumber, where I had dreamed that we were about to go skydiving and I was about to jump off the plane when a phone began ringing.

“What?” Harry grumbled beside me. His heartbeat echoed in the shell of my ear as he listened to whoever was interrupting our time. “Shit! Yep, yeah. We will be there in ten minutes.”

“Who was that?”

“It was Gemma.” Harry slipped out from under me, making me whimper from the loss of contact and warmth.

“Come on Diggy babe. You’ve got to get up. Everyone’s at Mrs Birkenridge’s.”

“What?!” That made me instantly sit up. I couldn’t recall in the whole time that I had known Harry for him to dress himself as quickly as he did. Me on the other hand still felt drunk. He threw on his clothes and then helped me into my own before putting me into the car and drove speedily towards the Birkenridge Homestead.

“I’m so sorry we’re late.” Harry instantly apologised to the woman I assumed was Mrs Birkenridge’s daughter.

“It’s no problem. I’m Rosemary, Mary-Louise’s daughter. You must be Harry? We spoke on the phone.”

“Yeah I am. Nice to meet you.” Harry grinned, holding his hand out for her to shake his hand. “This is Indigo, Jack’s sister. We’re both planning the engagement party together.”

Despite every cell in my body functioning at a 45% success rate, I pulled a smile on my face and shook Rosemary’s hand. “Hiya! Nice to meet you.”

”You too.” She smiled politely as she lead us around the property. “Jack and Gemma are just around the back by the pond. They were telling me that you used to throw pretty great parties back in the day.”

“That was mostly Harry,” I admitted. “I was too busy studying for my exams most of the time‍. All I would do was make sure there was a enough booze and food for everyone.”

“Don’t you listen to her Rosemary,” Harry was quick to dismiss. “She was a vital part of the team. Was always there ready to play an impromptu game of drunk twister and always made sure nobody felt left out.”

“Oh there they are. Took you two long enough to get here.” Jack said in a smarmy tone, all to arrogant for his own good. Gemma slapped his chest with the back of her hand. If Jack was gonna play this game with me, I was gonna play and beat him at his own game too.

“Oi, pipe down pet. It’s not like we’ve done everything else for this bleeding wedding.”

Rosemary looked warily between the two of us, I sure if we were being serious or not.

“Ignore him.” Gemma grinned over at Rosemary. Harry just threw a warning look my way, as if he were saying ‘just shut your face for once, would ya?’ through the smallest movement of his eyebrow. “He gets a bit cocky when he hasn’t been fed.”

“Well, I say we get into it.” Harry clapped his hands. “You tell us how you want things set up,” he looked towards Gemma and Jack before aiming his attention at Rosemary. “And you can let us know if that’s okay or not to do on the property,” Then his neck snapped my way. “And Dig and I can sort the rest.”

For the next three hours, Gemma and Jack explained how they wanted their ceremony area and reception area set up, while Rosemary sat at the table with Harry watching the decorators do their thing. By the end of the afternoon, Rosemary was besotted with Harry and couldn’t stop gushing to her husband how sweet Harry was.

It looked absolutely beautiful.

Baby pink satin curtains draped against a frame that stood on a platform at the end of the aisle. Fairy lights glimmered in the tree’s and bundles of pink and white roses bloomed all over the show. What had impressed me the most was the smiles that just seemed to keep on growing on my brother and his fiancé’s faces.

“Uh, Indigo?” I turned around to see Rosemary who looked unsure about what she was going to say next. “There’s, uh… Emily’s come to see you? She’s quite adamant on seeing you, uh… now?”

My heart dropped in a instant. I could feel my skin turn pale and my breath held still in my chest. I was in shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of how she knew where I was.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Jack stood in front of me, his hands rubbing the sides of my arms to shake me out of the shock I was in. “What’s going on Prinny? You look sick. Is your hangover finally kicking in?”

I wanted to speak… No actually, I wanted to scream; but I couldn’t. I just wanted to be left alone for one goddamn minute to grasp what was happening.

“A girl’s turned up here to see Indigo. Her name’s Emily.” Rosemary patted my back comfortingly as Jack’s green eyes bulged out in disbelief.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “Do you want me to go get rid of her? Because I will. You know I will.”

“No.” I managed to shake my head and took a step back. I needed space for my own well-being. “I–I just wasn’t expecting her.”

“Well do you want me to go with you then? We’ll go tell her to bugger off together.”

“N–no thanks.” I shook my head before turning around to Rosemary. “I’m so sorry if she’s given you any trouble. I’ll make sure she goes home.”

She nodded at me with a sympathetic smile. “She’s in the front entrance. Good luck.”

I could hear her before I could see her. She was pacing up and down the entrance her normally pristine hair was messily thrown up into a bun. She looked like she hadn’t even changed clothes in the last couple of days. It was more scary than it was worrisome.

“Emily what are you doing here?”

She stopped in her tracks, her piercing eyes going right through me. “You need to come with me now.”

“I can’t Emily.” My voice wobbled. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah, with that fucking prick from One Direction.” Emily spat venomously. “It’s fucking everywhere Indi. Harry Styles back with his former childhood sweetheart. Do you know how stupid that makes me look?”

“What about how stupid I looked when you cheated on me, huh?” I cried so loudly, it echoed within the entrance. “Do you ever think about how awful I felt when I caught my girlfriend of two years in our bed being eaten out by your co-worker?”

“I only did it because you stopped loving me!”

“That is such bullshit Em.” I angrily wiped the tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. “The worst thing about all of this is that I still fucking love you, even after everything you’ve put me through. I still fucking love you.”

“Well if you loved me, you would have never kicked me out of my home. You would have stayed in London and sort things out with me. We would still be together.”

“No we wouldn’t.” I spoke honestly. “You know, Harry never did anything wrong while we were together. Sure, his job sucked at times but he always made me feel loved. And I still ran away from him because my parents had fucked up the idea of marriage for me. All your cheating did was bring everything to light, Em. You never loved me the way I loved you and I’ve realised that it’s not enough.”

“Do you know how hard I’ve fucking tried over the last two years Indigo? Because let me tell you, it’s fucking tough when your girlfriend is still in love with her ex-boyfriend.”

“I’m not in love with Harry!” I sobbed. “I’m not.”

“You are though. You’ve never fully let him go and all you’ve done is run back into his arms. Forget me though, I’ll just act like everything you’re doing is fine.”

“For fuck sakes Emily!” I shouted, a lie bubbling up in my stomach. “All he’s done is help me with this near-on soul destroying wedding! He’s not even being that great about it. If it weren’t for the fact that my brother and his sister were getting married, I would have absolutely nowt to do with him.”

I could see the rage in her that had built up so much, it was about to overflow.

“You need to go, Emily.”

Harry stood leaning against the hallway wall, a mixture of sadness and anger showing on his face. Emily scoffed as she spotted Harry a few metres away from us.

“Well here’s the big man himself! Suppose you’ve been trying everything in your power to woo our little princess here. Not that hard of a job to win her over is it?”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll get my security to escort you off the property and you’ll be given a restraining order.”

“You know what?” Emily paced back and forth for a bit, quietly laughing to herself. “Fuck you both. You two fucking horrible people deserve each other.”

Just like that, she was gone… and Harry wasn’t far behind her.

“Harry!” I ran up behind him as best as I could in my heels, yanking on his bicep to pull Harry back. “Could you just stop for a second?”

“Why should I Dig? All you’ve done this whole time is second guess me! I want the best for our siblings too! I want to do the best I can possibly do for their wedding! I don’t know what I have done for you to not trust me!” Harry puffed, his cheeks instantly flushing red as tears built up in his eyes.

“Actually, fuck that. I proposed to you Dig! I proposed to you and you ran away and it was the last I saw of you. For the last two years I’ve tried to understand what I did wrong; what I possibly could have done to stop you from leaving me. All for you to not be loved like you should have been loved since. That fucking breaks my heart Indigo, it fucking does. We could have never felt this pain if you had just let me love you.”

“Harry, I–“

“Ever since I saw you sitting out on Mum’s balcony with a fucking e-cigarette in your hand, you’re all I’ve wanted since. But I’m never going to be good enough, am I Dig?”

I wish you knew Harry. I wish you knew that you were too good for me… too good for this earth in this lifetime anyways. It was never about you not being good enough for me. It was about me not being good enough for you.

In this lifetime I’ll always love you but will never be good enough to match what you deserve.

I wish you knew.

viii. let’s have a wedding.

“Get up.” My body shook from the sharp jolt that moved my mattress.

I lifted my hand in the air, middle finger flying high and proud as I squished my face as far into the pillow as I could. “Fuck off Jackson.”

“Seriously Prinny. Get the fuck up.”

“I don’t want to deal with you right now.” I seethed, glaring at Jack with as much hatred as could muster this early in the morning. “Fuck off and get ready for your wedding.”

“I want to!” Jack exasperated. “But I can’t when both me and the woman I’m about to marry are worrying about our siblings.”

“Stop worrying and let me go back to sleep. There – problem solved.”

“Indigo.” Jack sat on the edge of my bed, tucking my hair behind my ear. “He loves you.”

No he didn’t. He didn’t know what type of person I had turned into. If Emily couldn’t love me, Harry certainly couldn’t. If anything, my worst fear had come true. I was unlovable. There was no need for Harry to take one for the team and brainwash himself into thinking he loves me.

“It’s been two, nearly three years since he proposed Jack.” I croaked, tears heavy on my eyes and my throat tightening to where it was becoming hard to breathe. “I’m a horrible person. He doesn’t love me. He loves this made up version of me that he’s had in his head since.”

“He loves you Indi, he told you that yesterday. You just don’t love yourself… or you don’t love love.” He argued.

“Trust me, I know our parents fucked up our idea of love but in all honesty, it was you and Harry that changed that for me. Not Gemma, you and Harry. I knew that it was the whole marriage idea that triggers you but I thought if you could happily accept the amount of love Harry had for you by opening your heart up, I could do the same. And in a few hours time, I’m going to marry the love of my life, and it’s going to be great.”

The clock read 8.43am, which meant I had only stopped crying four hours ago. Of course Jack had to go set me off with the sweetest of arguments I’ve ever had with my brother.

“I just want you to have the best love you could possibly get and give and I really think Harry is your shot at that. But you need to fight for him Indz, because I think he’s lost all hope and from what I can see, you’ve got a little bit left in ya.”

And like the annoying brother he was, Jack was right. I did have a little bit of hope left for Harry and I.

“Right, okay.” I flung the sheets off me, wiping the ugly tears that were drying on my rosy cheeks. “Move out of my way. Got to tell someone I love him.”

Jack grinned, throwing his keys on my lap. “See you in a couple of hours then.”

I wish I had more time to think, but it only took me three minutes to drive to Harry’s parents house. I wanted more time to think of how to say sorry; to apologise for disappearing after he got down on one knee in our living room and asked me to marry him; to think of all the ways I could show Harry how much I loved him; and most importantly, to talk myself out of doing this because deep down, I was still so unsure about me chasing after him. All of my insecurities were still there but so was Harry… for the meantime.

Gemma gave me a knowing look as she let me into her Mum’s house, whispering a quick good luck in my ear as she let me go from our hug. Ny heart pounded so loudly in my chest with every step I took up the stairs, leading myself to Harry’s bedroom.

My hand anxiously wavered by before it knocked three times again the wooden door. I could hear the graspiness in his voice the moment he mumbled ‘come in’.

My hand turned the golden knob and I visibly cringed as the door freaked while I opened it. But as soon as I saw him, leaning up on his elbows over at me, still half asleep not knowing who was at the door, tears fell heavy on my eyes.

“Hey…” I choked out, all the words I wanted to say the moment I saw him vanished in a second.

“Hi.”

Rather than the scowl I was expecting to see on his face, Harry smiled and all it did was make me break down in tears.

“Hey, hey, hey. Come on now. Come get into bed.” Harry hushed from his bed, lifting up the covers and invited me in. It was safe to say I near on ran getting into his warm bed.

“I’m so sorry H. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never–“

Harry shushed me gently, his lips peppering kisses on my forehead. His arm instantly wrapped around my waist, pulling my body right against his side, the shell of my ear right above his racing heart.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve never made you feel guilty for not accepting my proposal.” Harry whispered so carefully.

“I should have never run away from you in the first place.” I shook my head. “I should have stayed and told you how afraid I was of turning out like my parents. Instead I hurt you and I don’t know if I can forgive myself for that.”

“I think there is a should have and shouldn’t haves in our past babe,” Harry sighed. “The question we have now is do we see a future together…”

Before I could get my answer in, Harry carried on. “Because if I’m being 100% honest here, I’m in. With or without marriage, I want to spend this lifetime with you.”

Sniffling hard, I threw myself on top of his body, attacking his body in the biggest hug of love I could give.

“I love you. Fuck, I’m so fucking in love with you. I’ve never stopped, I never will.” I muttered on like a mad person in the crook of his neck. Tears continued to roll down my cheek and onto his warm skin.

“Love you too, Dig. So much.”

***

“Could I get everybody’s attention please?” Jack's voice boomed over the group of people that had gathered in the backyard. Gemma stood proudly by his side, her smile beaming as she looked up at the man she was about to marry.

Harry and I sat off to a table on the right of the aisle, bunched up together like two peas in a pod. Our fingers were intertwined, resting on Harry’s thigh under the table. Thankfully, the tablecloth covered out hands so not even our mothers could use that as an excuse to pry in our newly founded relationship. My head rested on his shoulder, partly due from the lack of sleep I had the night before, but mostly due to how exhausted planning this wedding had made me.

Anne has burst into Harry’s bedroom earlier this morning, just like when we were kids. While we may of been sleeping for ten minutes at most after reconciling, she told us to both get out of bed and join her and Gemma for breakfast. She had made pancakes, and made me my own special blueberry pancakes.

Things would have been great if Harry didn’t insist on eating my pancakes. We were thirty minutes into our new future that we couldn’t wait to see what would come from it, and we were already arguing. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy and that in itself was an overwhelming emotion.

“We want to thank you for turning up today. It means a lot to Gemma and I that you all could make it. But there’s two people we really want to thank from the very bottom of our heart.” Jack looked over at Harry and I from the platform.

“As you know, my brother Harry and Jack’s sister Indigo have spent the last couple of months planning this engagement party for us. Haven’t they done such a wonderful job?” Gemma said, her grin never leaving her face. A applause broke out from the crowd in front of them.

“If you didn’t know, they used to date! And like the annoying siblings they are, they would make Jack and I hang out with them all the time. It was like being an awkward double date.” She laughed, before turning her attention back onto Jack. “But little did we know what would come our way and what we would turn into. So in saying that, we have a bit of a surprise for you all.”

Gemma quickly ran off stage and pulled another lady up onto the stage with her.

“This is Diana. She’s a marriage celebrant.”

A gasp came over the guests, while Harry and I chuckled between each other.

“And since we thought Harry and Indi have done such a great job and all of the people we love and cherish are here, we thought why not just get married now!”

Both of our Mum’s looked between in each other in shock, tears forming heavily in their eyes. Dad threw his head back, boisterously laughing his head off, pointing at us as we sheepishly grinned like we hadn’t known this was the plan all along.

“You knew, didn’t ya! Ya little fucking shits.”

Diana stood in between Jack and Gem, harping on all things love and how the very act of love made the world go round and more specifically, how it came to bring them two together. I didn’t expect Jack to be as emotional as he was. His voice quivered on almost every third word when he was saying his vows, sneaky tears being hastily wiped away by this big stocky fella who I hadn’t seen cry in almost twenty years. As for Gemma, well – you couldn’t get the smile off her face if you tried.

“...I now announce you as husband and wife. Now snog each other, will ya?”

A surge of pride filled my chest as I watched my brother and new sister-in-law whisper ‘I love you’ to each other before kissing each other. Jack had said earlier that there was hope in seeing love. Now I knew what he had meant, and it pained me to say but my big ol’ brother was right.

I turned my face towards Harry, resting my chin on his shoulder as I looked up into those lovely eyes I had been in love with since I was fifteen.

“I love you.” I whispered, the most smug of smiles gracing Harry’s face.

“I love you too."

ix. epilogue

Harry thought to himself he had never been so thankful to see a door before. The moment he walked out, all he wanted to do was walk back in and stay there for as long as he could.

But Indigo was sick of hospital food. All she wanted was some baked ziti from the little Italian restaurant down the road and given the last twenty four hours she had been through, Harry would do anything for his love. That however meant Harry had to drive across town to get it, and while he was near home, he might as well pick up the gift he forgot and left at home.

Harry quietly crept into the hospital room, trying his best not to drop the food his girlfriend desperately wanted, or all of the other stuff he had brought from their home. Despite the curtains were drawn shut, the sunset managed to peek through, setting the room into a nice auburn red that wasn’t too harsh on his eyes.

“Hey.” Harry whispered, a moment of relief falling over him when he saw Indigo sitting upright, her hair tied up messily on the top of her head, happily gazing down at the little bub that had only entered the world just a few hours ago.

Indigo looked away from their little angel, her smile turning into a grin when she saw Harry standing there with a paper bag of food and about three stuffed toys in his hand.

“Hi. How was the traffic?”

“It was fine.” Harry walked over and placed the toys at the side of the hospital bed, the food put on the bedside cabinet, and a kiss promptly placed on Indigo’s lips. “How’s our girl doing?”

“Well she’s been a hungry little bugger for the last ten minutes, haven’t you sweet girl?” Indigo turned her attention back down to her little bubba, currently latched on and eating to her heart’s content. “But she’s been a good girl nonetheless. The nurse and I were really impressed at how well she latched on this time.”

“Not sure where she gets being good from. It certainly isn’t from you or me.” Harry snided, his wit still coming through despite most of his attention was on this little girl of theirs. He went to pat the apple of her cheek ever so gently with the knuckle of his finger but she was to quick for him, her tiny hand wrapping around his finger. Harry’s heart hadn’t melted quicker than it did in that moment.

“The nurse wants you to do some more skin-to-skin tonight too.” Indigo smiled at her little girl’s hand wrapping around her daddy’s finger. “She said it may help her settle a bit better when we put her down for a sleep, rather than nursing her to sleep all the time.”

“Count me in.” Harry beamed. “I’d do anything for you, little girl.”

Indigo’s free hand lifted up to Harry’s cheek, feeling the scratchy stubble on her palm. Admiration filled Indigo’s heart to the brim when it came to Harry’s love for anything, but it had been amplified when they had found out about their little bub growing in Indigo’s tummy, and then so much more when she finally decided to enter the world. In all honesty, Indigo thought she had peaked. There was absolutely no way she could be any happier than she was in this very moment.

“Sweet girl wrote you a card while you were gone.”

“Did she now?” Harry’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You know, we’ve got to give her a name at some point.”

“It’ll come in good time. Just can’t decide if she’s a Grace or a Georgia.” Indigo shrugged her shoulders, dropping her hand from his face, and back down to their baby. Her little bub looked content and full, so Indigo broke her suction and quickly replaced her nipple with the knuckle of her finger in between the baby’s gums. “Her card’s just up on the cabinet if you want to read it.”

Harry didn’t want his sweet girl to let go of his finger but he slid his finger out unwillingly. His curiosity got the better of him, wanting to know what his daughter (and Indigo) wanted to say to him.

He picked up the baby pink envelope, flicked his finger under the paper and pulled out a card that read ‘To the Best Daddy in the world!’ on the front. His thumb pulled the card open, and with his heart beating ever so loudly, Harry began to read.

To Daddy.

Aren’t you happy I’m out of the womb now? Now we can chat and have kisses at what ever ridiculous time of night without waking Mummy up! I’m so glad that I get to be your’s and Mummy’s sweet girl forever now.

While I’ve been growing in her tummy, me and Mummy have been having some serious talks about our future - just stuff like not being fussy with food and going to bed properly the first time. I said to her I couldn’t promise that but I did say I would help her ask something.

Mummy said she loves you very much and has loved you the moment you gave her a pink rose outside of Scoundrels when she was 15. She said you tried to do this once before, but she got really scared and ran away. She hopes you’ve forgiven her for it, she never meant to hurt you. All she wants is to give you as much love as she can. What she’s trying to ask is if you’ll marry her… but she thinks it’d be much cuter if I asked - so here it goes.

WILL YOU MARRY MY MUMMY? xo

By the time Harry looked up from the card, Indigo held open a ring box, that hand the most stunning carvings within the black coated ring.

“So what do you say?” Indigo said with a nervous smile on her face; their sweet baby angel cooing in her arms.

“Will you marry me?”

[emikvs]

﹤𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰 𝙺𝙾𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚂𝚄, 𝚂𝙷𝙴 / 𝙷𝙴𝚁, 𝙲𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴﹥; * - hello EMIKO " EMI " SATO. long time no see. i know a lot about you. like how you're TWENTY ONE, how you're a CLASSICS major,  and in fact.. how you LIE AND TELL EVERYONE YOU STUDIED ABROAD FOR A YEAR WHEN YOU WERE ACTUALLY IN REHAB. would be a shame if it got out, wouldn't it ? so let's play a game. 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷 𝙾𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙴 ?

*itzy vc* hey hey hey ! SDBJWBDJW what’s up......its xan aha ... this is gonna be the biggest mess ever ...just winging it as i go. and u know what ? thats on on brand babey ! lets get it ...TW: drug use/mention, accidents/hospitalization ( just in case)

backstory

virginia born and raised babey ! she’s the youngest of five siblings and ...it shows. SJDBJWBDJW growing up would have been pretty chaotic had it not been for the fact that her dad was a pretty well-respected police officer in their town ! him & her mom were high school sweethearts which made no damn sense to emiko considering they’re still happily married...the concept just seems fake to her </3

while her parents had a lot of  mushy love for each other, when it came to their kids they opted to take a more emotionally distanced kind of parenting style bc they didnt wanna like spoil their kids or anything but.....it wasnt exactly the best plan ! emi and all her siblings just learned to be very good liars JDSBWBDJW as kids with strict parents do

being the youngest emi took a while to get into her rebellious phase. for a while she’d just watch her older siblings sneak out and party and do walks of shame and all that jazz...and while she was always down to help them get out of trouble none of them ever really trusted her ? since she was the baby they figured she’d be the most likely to snitch which just made her really ///: bc she wanted to be included so bad

flash forward to senior year of high school and finally emi’s like . okay fuck this it’s MY turn ! her dad had recently decided to get into politics with some encouragement from the police chief so he was busy with his career and her mom was busy helping him. it was the perfect time to do what she wanted since it was less likely she’d get caught

so she goes to this graduation party.....and it’s BAD like she gets fucked up & carried away so she calls her oldest sister ( who had come back into town for emi’s graduation ) to come pick her up & on the way to get emi from this house party, her sister ends up getting into an accident 

she didn’t die though JSBJDSBBWJDBWJDBJWDW just broke some stuff and ended up needing surgery ): and emi obviously got busted that night by her parents which ... wasnt pretty at all especially bc they low key blamed her for her sister’s accident which just made emi feel like pure shit babey ! 

visiting her sister in the hospital is what kinda sparked her fear of hospitals ! bc emi was like super guilty and paranoid that maybe her sister was gonna die or her surgery would go wrong and she’d essentially be at fault...it was just a lot of anxiety that turned into a genuine phobia of hospitals after that

but her sister made it she was okay and her dad used all the buzz and tragedy around his family to kinda boost his political career....which was ugly. her sister had been prescribed some pretty heavy pain killers for the pain & thats where things got.....messy

emi isnt sure when exactly it started but between the guilt she was harboring over her sister’s accident, the stress from her parents as her dad got further and further into virginia politics as well as college anxiety since she was about to start at the universoty of virginia.....she stole some oxy and thats what started what would be a very messy and tumultuous addiction  

as soon as she started college, emi felt as if some of the weight had been lifted. she was living away from her family for the first time and dorming so she promised herself she’d take these four years to grow and figure out who she is......except that didnt exactly happen. instead of exploring herself in a healthy way, emi was using drugs as a sort of escapism from her “old” self. she’s extremely smart and she loves her major, but her professors would often comment her papers had the energy of a “rambling and troubled mind”. by the time she was about to finish her sophomore year she was getting so high people would find her literally passed out in the dining hall. but no one was that worried bc for a good two years, she was a pretty high functioning addict. 

cue the summer after sophomore year when emi overdoses at a party. she woke up in a private hospital room with only her father sitting on the couch, the look on his face something she’ll never forget. while him and her mother knew exactly what happened to emi, they hadn’t told any of her siblings. or anyone at all, for that matter. instead her dad had informed the university emi would be taking a year off to privately study abroad and told emi that’s what she was going to tell people bc he’d just decided to run for mayor ! he essentially guilt-tripped her into thinking telling people the truth would be a selfish act, and one that would basically ruin the family reputation and make everyone really miserable JSDWDBWBDJW he also tells her she’s gonna be shipped off to rehab ! 

so she goes to rehab for a good seven months. everyone at school thinks she’s studying abroad in italy, and emi is literally just counting the days til she can go back home to her dorm bc she’s lonely !!! in rehab !!! and she gets that she should take it seriously but shes just so mad at her dad and herself and the world too ig ... just some good old fashioned angst ! but she finishes rehab and her dad got elected as mayor of her hometown in virginia and shes like good for u can i go back to school please JSBDWJDBJW and he says yes

so she’s back ! ready for the universe to give her a break.....ahaha.....

personality + tidbits

so emi......my baby......she’s a strange one. she’s that bitch that’s super nerdy but in the weirdest way like the stuff she’s into is so specific and just....generally stuff literally no one else would care about but to emi it’s like holy shit this is the coolest thing in the world JSBDJWBDJWBJD she knows a little about a lot so she has the tendency to come across as pretentious if you don’t know her outside of class when in reality she’s just read one too many random facts. also weird in the sense that she’s a STRONG believer in the paranormal and in aliens and in witchcraft and stuff like that as well as believing in things that seem “logical”. it can be confusing to people who view that stuff as silly that someone so smart would be into it. 

speaking of smart.....she’s a polygot which basically means she can speak a bunch of languages ! she’s self-taught, and since she’s a classics major some of her favorites to study include greek and latin ( dead language who ? ). she’s pretty chill about it though and if you wanted to learn she’d be the type that’s 100% down to teach you. she always learns the curse words first just you know....for the fun of it ! she probably has very specific “pet names” for everyone in the friend group in random languages 

anyway she’s also stupid. ASDJWBDWBJDBWJDWJD i mean like in the way that she makes the most .... impulsive decisions that usually have negative consequences. she’s the type to convince herself she knows exactly what she’s then come up with the worst plan you have ever heard in your life. an example of a dumb decision emi has made ? your girl ate a pot brownie the day after she got back in her dorm after rehab bc she convinced herself it was a good way to de-stress. some other dumb decisions include various drunk tattoos ( which thankfully haven’t been too bad save for the words eat me tattooed in small font on her ass ). also owns a stick & poke gun so she’s for sure tried to tattoo friends while intoxicated despite.....not being a tattoo artist ... she’s not even an art student .... SJBDJWBDJW....but she’s very very good at convincing people to join in on her dumb antics so be weary

big on photography !!! she loves taking pictures. always that one friend who reminds you to document the moment and you get annoyed but then when you want to post a picture on insta you’re thankful she was there <3 she has the energy of like .... the dad friend when you need support JSDBWBDJWBDJW she tries to be caring but it just turns into like ... emi high off her ass putting her hand on your shoulder and being like “you know fuck it man you’re amazing” not that good at the emotional stuff like she really wants to be but she legit doesn’t know how.......kinda accidentally turned into an emo kid bc she channels her feelings though some kick ass playlists and the notes app in her iphone instead of talking to people JSBDJWBJDBWJDBJ 

she’s high key struggling but she’s the type to be like no its fine this is fine life is a ride babey better hold on ! tries to keep things flirty and fresh 99% of the time but then you’ll witness the rare emi breakdown which.....involves a whole lot of tweets that will all be deleted within 24 hours and emi will in fact deny they ever existed

really a laid-back girl but the chaotic energy is there folks......she can also very easily get into her youngest child complex if she’s upset which just involves emi being a pain in the ass and everyone having to deal with it JSBDWBDJWBDJWBDJW  she likes to make it hard to say no to her.....not exactly manipulative but sometimes she can get close /: not listed in her fears but she is in fact scared of genuine love and affection ! it’s like she craves it so much she’s terrified abt what will happen if she ever gets it.......so she makes sure she’s never in danger of that by never getting into anything serious.....but then at night shes like damn . kinda want a freak to hold my hand rn and tell me they love me ... JSDBWBDJWBDJWBJDWJDW it’s all fun and games.............

ok thats it im done rambling.................this is so long..............and for what !!!!! i made her more of a clown than i intended but thats okay (: JSDBJWBDWJDBWJ emi might hate clowns but im embracing them ! 

[icharchivist]

 i’ve got a spiral down about my past and needed to throw it all out somewhere sorry about that, scroll past

under cut cw: self harm mentions, suicide idealization mentions, the usual deal from my parents, abandon issues and even slight bigotery discussion that has nothing interesting to say, just me being upset at my parents, so please just scroll past. 

Honestly i act as cheerful as possible lately and to be honest, i truly am happier than i had been in a long while - my current hyperfixation helping a lot and i think it also helps me process some things that I need to process as of now, especially the whole “living in the present, moving forward and try not to think too much of the past” angle that i obsess about lately -

but there’s not a single day that passes where i’m not angry at my family, that i’m not frustrated, that i don’t want to scream. I look back at my past and want to destroy it all, throw it all out, hating every single minute of it. 

And it’s while it’s better now that my (ex)stepdad left for good (I still have the 6 fucking years of trauma he left me with to deal with though) and that my mom is barely there bc she’s happily living with her bf right now (and even there this bad, bitter part of me is just BITTER that she can just move on and be happy as if i hadn’t been miserable due to her decisions in that whole time) - there is still the case of the fact that there’s this trial against my dad that is bringing back sour memories because my dad just... come to shake things bc he sucks. 

And meanwhile i’m happy i don’t have the weigh to bother with my mom but like?? that adds to all the times i’ve felt neglected, abandonned, left behind. And she will be /happily/ doing so and i must be happy bc she’s happy. 

All those problems i have to still process the consequences to shouldn’t even have been problems to start with. There is no reason any of it is fair, any of it is worth it. 

And like everytime i look back i just see how miserable it made me and how i still pay those decisions to this day: hell right now my hands hurt like crazy and GEEZ. bc what is handicaping my hand? a sickness that started due to high dose of stress my parents put me under AND neglect bc my mom argued for months i didn’t need to see a doctor and we didn’t have the means for it, leading to me contracting a deadly disease that will ALWAYS remain in my blood and always show up again when i’m having some pick of stresses and that still forbid me to do things to that day.

And like... everytime i start to be in pain i get frustrated because those problems, i’ve learnt to deal with them and i especially learnt to shut the fuck up about it. Because even if those are things that could kill me, it’s always things that do it /slowly/ so my parents don’t care?? they just tell me to stop complaining and move on? Like i almost had a ulcer and since then can’t eat some stuff anymore but does that stop my mom from just cooking it and joking that “she too is in pain eating them”? 

And i’m frustrated because I compare to my sister who had also been deadly sick, but those deadly got very quick and concerning very fast so my mom at least always overprotected her - and that’s good and fine, i’m glad my sister got the support she needed, but in the meantime when I got my deadly sickness i was just told to suck it up and that we couldn’t see a doctor because see it’s slow so it’s not important? 

And there’s not a day without those thoughts to come back to me. And it frustrates me, it makes me want to yell. 

And like. Like. My mental health had been SO BAD for ALL THOSE YEARS and all i’ve ever heard was my mom in denial shutting me off everytime i tried to bring it up because “no no because it’d mean you’re crazy and you can’t be crazy” mom i’m telling you i want to kill myself pay fucking attention, or worse, my dad who used my confession to my mom about self harm (that my mom welcomed with fucking “I have more important things to deal with” before snitching to my dad that it was his fault while i didn’t want to tell my dad) tO PUT IT IN COURT and tlel the judge that my mental unstability “caused by my mom” was why he shouldn’t give me allowance and lol i was 15??? And that led my dad to make suicide jokes at my expense to total strangers as i grew up???

And then 4 years ago  when i cut ties with my dad he started to send threats telling me he was going to send doctors from the mental institude against us because we were “dangerous to society because we’re mentally unstable” for thinking he should pay the fucking allowance, and he’s threatening this very thing again now??? 

Meanwhile like even my mom told me that perhaps i should keep low my attempts at therapy because my dad might use it against me and like?? like??? in what fucking world. 

And I think back to those once in a while, those thoughts sneak back into my mind and i’m angry, i’m so angry, i’m so so angry at this past. I want to tear it off i want to remove it I just don’t want it. I am tired of staying up at night reviewing my trauma because my brain finds it funny to remind me that everything went downhill and i’m trying to fix what people had destroyed around me and i wonder why i even bother it’s not like i knew how it was when it wasn’t broken and i don’t see why i have to put this much effort into all of this that shouldn’t have happened to start with. 

and I can see random things and it sets off the spiral down, anything that is a cute tongue and cheek thing about your past can make me remember stupid things that happened and then it’s over for the few hours that follow because i need to review AAAALL of that trauma, including things i have no reason to remember about like my fucking ex. 

And it happens over and over and over again.

I’ve ended up having a rather weird spiral down rn bc when my brain keeps me awake at night i try to focus on learning Japanese so i still stimulate my brain and distract myself from mental breakdown, but it comes with its lots of trauma, like the fact my mom had always been pretty bigoted toward this culture and had always made me feel bad for being curious about it, that i’ve wanted to study it for ever but my mom always killed it in some way or another, that i was made ridicule for it, and hell so did my Dad, he was no better he was just less virulant than her and just more humiliating. My mom was shutting me off and my dad was humiliating me, they made such a goddamn duo (and anyway from the letters i’ve found back from my sister running away that was already their combo kill before, lmao, and they still do that while divorced ofc).

And I was thinking what would be THE event in my life i could change that would have saved me all that trouble? And i think, if my grandmother took me with her when she took my sister away from my family. If i grew up with them what would have happened? 

And I was thinking, geez my mom always told me they were horrible people and i mean the apple can’t have fallen so far from the tree right? Like, how is there any garentee it could have been better except for the fact my sister got a happy life there.

and from all the things I could remember i remembered that they moved away back to the island my mother grew up to that is nearby Japan (which was my mom’s justification for being bigoted), and that for a couple of months when i was 14 where my mom managed to get in contact back with her mother (not allowed to talk back to my sister though and that’s when things turned sour but that’s a whole other can of worms), and for that slight time my grandmother actually talked back to me and was the most encouraging person from my whole family, and she had patrons from Japan so since she knew i was interested she sent me goodies she could find, like a traditional fan i still have, and she was even talking about how my mom and I could move in with them, and that i’d study there and study the language and all and it was already more support than i’ve ever had before which i’ve never realized until now and i started to cry in the kitchen out of nowhere (probably not helping i was making onigiri so it’s the mood i guess)

and like all of this was a lie since a few weeks later she told my mom last minute that we weren’t allowed to approach them anymore since my sister didn’t want to see her anymore (DUH that’s why she ran away) so we had to change our plans last minute and we lost contact and i’ve lost pretty much all interests i had at the time because now i associated it to a sour memory, and i suppose that’s part of the reasons why i hadn’t considered studying Japanese again until pretty recently (that and the fact my mom still found bigoted boyfriends who belittled me for that as well but hey when the shoe fits i guess)

 and i guess this whole spiral down i was thinking, i was told all my life they were horrible people and I don’t know them enough to have judged them, yet in a couple of months i was in contact with them they had shown more support to me than my family ever did. 

And it just... guh.

I feel like ever since i’ve read my sister’s file and that every affection i still had for my family broke, everyday is just a flood of remembering memories i’ve repressed of slight neglects here and there, or things i’ve been in denial about because it couldn’t have been that bad right? 

And I feel like.. the more now i’m trying to be in a better place mentally, and to sieze things I want, the more i remember why i wasn’t doing those to begin with and it’s not just my mental health being bad because of my parents, it was the whole package the problem, i have this sort of trauma on every aspect of my life, there’s not a single thing i can think back without taking it in the lense of feeling betrayed by my family in some regards. 

And hell even to some extend i feel so, so upset that those bounds with my families are things I want to throw out to start with, because I value the principle of legacy, but my family never did and I think back about the fact my parents come from very different and vast cultures that has nothing to do with France (my father is southern italian, my mother is of jewish descendant (as in she herself considers herself atheist and she never passed it down but she was raised in the faith) with her family branches from Algeria and she grew up in tropical islands surrounded by their cultures) and that they always, always specifically made sure i never knew about it until very late, shutting me off of it and then being mad that i don’t know stuff from my father’s side or mad that I get curious about others things in general. 

and i feel misplaced, i feel like this odd number that never got the attention of my parents, that didn’t inherit anything and perhaps it’s better this way, but i’ve been envious all my life of this concept and now i keep thinking and thinking and thinking about what the hell went wrong and there’s nothing in my control, just trying to break the paterns over and over again. (and all of this not helped by the fact it was the same as school for similar reasons, so the problem always felt like a me thing, it takes forever to try to heal from it)

All while also i was the one who took care of all of them, ALL of them, of my mother’s trauma, of my father’s abuse, of my sister projecting her abandons issues on me and my eldest that left such a ghost in our life i have no memory of despite this weigh, all while dealing with life’s problems, school, bullying, my fucking ex, and I had to think about it, i had to take a lot of responsabilities very young to stop my mother from collapsing and to try to stop my father from hurting us, and it comes back, it comes back that i should have never taken this burden to start with, and that all this burden i’ve taken is for a family who had never connected with me, never tried to and always making me feel bad for doing so, and the people i’ve villified all my life as a coping mechanism ends up making me feel a sort of homesickness i don’t even know how to express because i don’t know what it is to have a home that doesn’t hurt and no place of escape was ever actually safe.

And i want to move on, i want to move past that, i’m tired to deal with those ghosts all over and over again, it should never have happened to start with. I am so frustrated of those battles i should never have had to pick, of this responsability i’ve taken, and now between my mom just going on living her life happy go lucky leaving me to fend on my own as if she hadn’t destroyed my life and my father who keeps arguing of how much of a terrible person i am for just asking for the rightfull help my parents owe me, all while also my father keep making me feel guilty about the disconnect i have with my family, about how i’ve cut ties with everyone, that i neglect this heritage i have, so much that the timing leaps over the things i want to focus on now and i grow bitter and bitter and there’s nothing my parents aren’t always poisoning in some way or another. 

I’ve been told all my life to not mimick my eldest, hearing humiliating things about her with the constant threat of “dont be like her” and now i yearn for having understood her back then and having done like her sooner instead of trying all my life to do the extra miles to not hurt my parents again the way she hurt them, while she was right, she was right all along and i’ve villified her all my damn life while she was right and i should have done the same far earlier if i hadn’t been made to feel guilty about having this clear exemple of a way out in front of me.

And i’m tired and i’m tired and i want out i hate this life i hate every single things that brought me to that past and i have no idea what i’m doing with my life nor why i even bother trying to keep walking but i sure as hell need to at least fucking try, if only because i can’t them let win it, if only by spite of wanting to finally cut it all out and them having to live with the fact they’ve destroyed everything they ever touched. 

So the spiral downs and freakout that keep me awake lately are super fun and i fucking love that i just had a breakdown in the kitchen because I just thought about how i was given my eldest sister’s room when she left home and all the things that then followed from me never feeling at home anywhere ever, and that just a single thought about a material thing from my past suddenly brings an avalanche of bad things to remind me of all that repressed memory i refuse to acknowledge.

Im having so much fun on this tuesday night, peace out i’m tired, i’ll blast some music again now.

[hrina]

.

[modernlcve]

little info dump of lizzie’s la muses

ADELAIDE LINDHOLM  :   they still need a last name but . whatever. i was gonna make her like really boring n a lil mean but. i changed me mind. she’s still uninterested in fame but im pulling her out of management she did it for like 3 years and then realized it brought her nothing but stress and pain so she quit and is doing temp work for the time being she’s trying to figure some stuff of her own out but deflects it onto still trying to boss around her siblings all the time. this sounded more interesting in my head. know it all, bossy, putting on a front of being in control of her miserable life

plots for her include  :  former clients she completely abandoned when she snapped, im working on more but sometimes... being a big sister is a full time job am i right girls

ALISON COLLINS  :  a woman at a crossroads . wants to follow her big artistic ambition of [redacted] but it just hasnt worked out for her yet so she’s teaching elementary art classes at a Hippie School to pay the bills til something comes her way , but its hard to be the edgy artist type when u got the school breathing down ur back and checking 2 make sure ur on the straight and narrow.

plots for her include  :  another big sister im ltrying to think of plots for but . sometimes things arent easy you know. she could have art circle friends who make fun of her for Selling Out and making pipe cleaner crafts for a living now

BRUNO VARGAS  :   i’m copy pasting the fc meme. he bought a “capitalism is unsustainable” sticker off of amazon. prime example of that “little confused but he’s got the spirit” meme. he threw himself into the social activism scene after he dropped out of college and ran away to the city to really make something of himself. he really wants to do good things for good reasons his heart is in the right place he’s just a dumbass. grew up in a traditional catholic military family but hasn’t had contact w them for a minute. lives in the fold because he thinks its cool 2 force people 2 hang out with him. works for an indie underground news publication.

plots for him include  :  yeah  maybe i am still stuck on the boyfriend/girlfriend plot. im not married to it being bf n gf if it just works 2 be 2 gfs or 2 bfs anyways. plot would be that one partner bruno has had longer and has openly been with for a minute now. second partner would be more recent and bc of that less of the whole official We’re Together :) kind of thing. both partners would know he’s seeing other people, but he hasnt gone out of his way to specifically out either of them, p2 just knows about p1 bc they were openly w bruno whereas they arent yet. if that makes literally any sense

COLE EDWARDS  :  bit of a weirdo. she does something behind the scenes i was thinking like set design because thats something that weirdly really interests me. anyways shes a doormat but in a different way than molly could be read that way she really just likes to be involved in things and help people. ~quirky~ but one day , she will snap. u can tell when u see her at craft night and she gets so much hot glue on her hand but doesnt even react. its like she cant feel it... feel better cole...

plots for her   :  cole could work for laguna beach or as the mystery novak stepsib im not married to her being on the show or not yet. i figured she could be fun there because she would be a light addition to all these Reality Tv Bastards u know. her bg and plots will fit whichever subplot i use her for so . tba

HOLLIS MESSINA   :   kill him NOW .   hollis is a bad man. not to godmod michele but in my head their parents are also like weird arsty types not necessarily famous but always very into the arts all thru their childhood. they grew up eating a lot of kale and maybe thats why hollis is the way he is. he’s vapid and very insecure because he wants so bad to be cool and funny and talented and suffers from major impostor syndrome which contributes to his online shopping addiction. take a nap hollis...

plots for him  :  we know im always looking for a plot where my musician writes a song about how crusty their ex is and their ex doesn’t appreciate it, or in general just maybe someone who got past the Phony Fakeass Cool Hollis act but then he decided to be very mean to them because soemtimes it hurts to let people in

JAMES ZAMORA   :  instagram model and youtuber. new media thot. she makes beauty, fashion, lifestyle, and travel related content. her entire brand is being A Sexy Little Trollop for people to envy. came from humble beginnings believe it or not, but she will never tell anyone that. as far as they need to be concerned shes been toddling around in heels since day one. lives in the fold because it makes for quirky content but once a month she threatens to get the hell out of here.. no one knows why she stays..

plots for her  :  frankly between the Novak Boyz and the mean girl squad im happy w her plots for now but shes always around to *cheryl blossom voice* create a little chaos if needed...

MOLLY SEKULIC   :   for the first week he lived at the fold noah thought she was a ghost :0  jadede film school student who thought she would get to do real documentary work at a place like b*zzfeed news but got put on projects shes not as passionate about 2 put it kindly. constantly planning her escape from the fold and worth it and all of that but 2 depressed to actually put any of it into play so she just sticks around and hopes one day she’s tapped for something with Substance

plots for her  :  she just doesnt get out much. shes got her Horrible sons (alec and [redacted]) and the girlies she hangs out with at the fold so shes not a completely friendless loser. with muses also working in film i think it could be fun to have a plot where they went to school together/worked on a project earlyo n together but now shes doing this and is embarrassed to talk to them abt it not that its even that real of a plot..

NOAH FITZGERALD  :  i wrote an intro for him in fold and im just gonna link it here. tldr hes very shy,, be gentle,, he wants to be liked and validated which is a common theme for me becuase yeah maybe in my core i dont believe anyone pursuing art does it for any reason but validation i sure know i do 

plots for him  :   he’s got a little going on but other fun stuff could be musicians he jams with that could catch onto his and bradys Scam, maybe some other dorks to commiserate with ive obvisosuly not got as many ideas as i let on huh,

WYATT SONG   :   gay writer bitch. came from money so he’s just casually pursuing writing full time minus the time he spends on the show (bit less than everyone else just because watching him sit in his home office and do nothing for hours just isnt interesting) but i kinda like the idea of him being a Villain within the show like idk what dynamics we were wanting to set up but i feel ike since he’s more reclusive than the others and when he is around hes Annoying he could be someone the show kinda frames as Not Likable which mostly doesnt bother him but . stings a little

plots   :  someone whos really nice 2 him off cam but plays to that villain thing on cam, which could work for a few muses on different levels like a friend whos just flighty to someone he’s ~ secretly dating ~ bc it would mess up the current plot of the show if they were fucking just yet

[professional-anti]

Chapter Nine: The Circle and the Brotherhood

Okay, we start out a little stressful bc Jace says they’re gonna take the subway back to the Institute and Simon jokes around like “you guys take the subway but you’re demon hunters haha” and this happens:

Jace was scary-calm. His face was expressionless, but something burned at the backs of his eyes.

Um, are we not supposed to be worried about this? Jace should be working on this problem!! Why is he so mad at Simon? Oh, that’s right, he thinks that Simon is competition for Clary. And that’s enough for him to get this angry at Simon. I’m sure everyone can tell why this is unhealthy.

Simon proves to be an actual idiot when they get to the Institute. The Institute is housed in an old church, and for some reason Simon can’t comprehend that old buildings can be used for something else.

“It’s the Institute,” Clary said . . . “I thought it ws a church.” “It’s inside a church.” “Because that’s not confusing.”

This is New York City!! The home of remodeling!!! My aunt’s apartment used to be a house! My brother’s camp used to be an apartment! Things can be other things!! Oh my god!!!

They meet Isabelle in the kitchen, where she’s stress cooking. Oh, I remember this! She sucks at cooking but does it when she’s stressed. It’s actually really cute. I stress cook too! Once I made soup from scratch at 3 AM. (My psychiatrist said, verbatin, “That’s worrisome.”)

But then of course we get the typical annoying thing, where Simon stares at Isabelle “rapt and openmouthed”. I think I speak for most people when I say that someone staring at you with their mouth open is creepy. And weird. When was the last time you looked at someone like that? Hopefully never! Blergh, it’s like the way creepy men stare at you on the street. And then Clary gets jealous of Isabelle. So, that’s fun. Love that girl-on-girl hate. I’ve never felt the urge in my life to hurt a girl bc she was prettier than I am. I can’t imagine feeling that way. Sometimes I’ll say jokingly “she’s so pretty, I’m mad”, but I’ve been trying to cut back on that bc I don’t mean it, it’s something that’s been programmed into me to say. But Clary literally wants to throw the soup over Isabelle’s head. Okay.

There’s a tiny bit of worldbuilding that’s also kind of cute, which is that Isabelle “got the recipe from a water sprite at the Chelsea Market.” Well, most people would just say “Chelsea Market” without that article in front of it, but I still like it. Idk, maybe I’m just a sucker for magical New York. Vampires on the Upper East Side? Give me. Werewolves taking advantage of Central Park? Hell yes! Magicians in Greenwich Village? Duh, sign me up. So, little mentions like this make me happy. The worldbuilding is still shit, but this is some nice stuff.

Jace snarks at Clary for eating all the sandwiches at Dorothea’s, and it’s maddening. Those sandwhiches were the first thing she ate for a whole day! Let women eat their fill without judging them!! Arggghhhh!!!!

For some reason, Jace isn’t sure if they should tell Hodge that the men with Luke were the ones that killed his father. I guess bc he thinks that Hodge won’t let them go out and investigate? Idk. Like, we all know that Hodge is Evil Giles, but Jace doesn’t know that. He tells Isabelle that they’re going to Hodge, but they might not tell him about the men being his father’s killers, and this exchange happens:

[Isabelle] shrugged. “All right. Are you going to come back? Do you want any soup?” “No,” said Jace. “Do you think Hodge will want any soup?” “No one wants any soup.” “I want some soup,” Simon said. “No, you don’t,” said Jace. “You just want to sleep with Isabelle.” Simon was appalled. “That is not true.” “How flattering,” Isabelle murmured into the soup, but she was smirking. “Oh, yes it is,” said Jace. “Go ahead and ask her—then she can turn you down and the rest of us can get on with our lives while you fester in miserable humiliation.” He snapped his fingers. “Hurry up, mundie boy, we’ve got work to do.”

So much. So much. I’m short-circuiting. First of all, it’s so incredibly disrespectful to Isabelle for Jace to talk this way. If I were her, I’d be so uncomfortable. And I know that Jace knows her and her comfort limits, but it’s still disrespectful. Secondly, Jace is so mean. And Clary does call him out for it, but who even knows what she sees in him. He’s so fucking mean. And mean characters are fine. They’re great. But I’m just confused why everybody is falling the fuck in love with Jace. It makes zero sense to me. Jace is set up as this paradigm of a romantic partner and it’s like,,, what??? This Jace???

Clary calls Jace an asshat. An asshat. In our year of the Lord (checks copyright date) 2007. Actually, makes sense. Fandom was Like That. Everyone being vaguely British. I wasn’t technically on the fandom scene for anything back then, but in my fanfiction phase, I did some serious digging into the past. And all this fandom dialect makes sense when you remember that CoB is repurposed HP fanfiction.

Jace claims that he was trying to save Simon from heartbreak bc “Isabelle will cut out his heart and walk all over ti in high-heeled boots. That’s what she does to boys like that.”

Clary APOLOGIZES to Jace for snapping at him. Like, the Jace who was so brutally mean to Simon just now? The Jace who is constantly rude to her? The Jace who talks down to her and is so freaking patronizing? Is she apologizing to that Jace? Mmmmmkay.

Ugh, apparently Maryse, Isabelle’s mom, is usually the cook. So it’s the women who like cooking in this book. Got it. Usually 7 people live here, right? Isabelle, Alec, their brother, their parents, Hodge, and Jace. Two women. Five men. And the only people who cook? The women. Cool, cool, cool. Okay. Got it. Thanks.

Wait, this is weird. Apparently Maryse never taught Isabelle how to cook because, according to Jace:

“Isabelle never wanted to learn. She’s always been first and foremost interested in being a fighter. She comes from a long line of women warriors,” he said, and there was a tinge of pride in his voice. “She’s one of the best Shadowhunters I’ve ever known.”

So, huh. A lot to unpack. Isabelle likes to cook, right? So why wouldn’t she want to learn? And why are cooking and fighting mutually exclusive? There’s so much weird stuff going on here. Clare writes the women as the only ones who cook. I don’t like that because she’s basically saying, “Cooking is something that women do, not men.” And now, because it’s a traditionally feminine thing (which it doesn’t have to be anymore now that most men aren’t out hunting all day), Isabelle doesn’t want to do it. And the narrative accepts that as normal, that women should want to divorce themselves from traditionally feminine things, which in my opinion is still sexism. Except that Isabelle likes to cook. So why wouldn’t she let her mom teach her? Does any of this make sense, you guys?

I AM CONFUSION

For some reason, Clary desperately wants to know if Alec is a better Shadowhunter than Isabelle. Not sure why. Jace replies that Alec has never killed a demon. Interesting. Not sure how that’s possible, but okay. They meet Hodge in the greenhouse, and the prose is truly awful:

Clary exhaled. “It smells like . . .” Springtime, she thought, before the heat comes and crushes the leaves into pulp and withers the petals off the flowers.

Slow down there, Emily Dickinson. Anyhow, Jace tells Hodge about their adventures, except for the fact that the warlocks were the ones who killed his dad. Still not sure why, still don’t really care.

“And [the warlock’s] names were . . .” “Pangborn,” said Jace. “And Blackwell.” Hodge had gone very pale. Against his gray skin the scar along his cheek stood out like a twist of red wire. “It is as I feared,” he said, half to himself. “The Circle is rising again.”

There are so many other quotes like that from HP, but I’m not about to reread all 7 books to find them.

Neither Jace nor Clary knows what the circle is, and Hodge ominously leads them to the library. There’s some annoying, edgy description about the libary. Then Hodge pulls out the Death Eaters’, I mean the Circle’s, manifesto. He reads some creepy stuff from it about swearing his life to the Circle “in order to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of [Elba]”. So, you know, creepy. He explains that he used to be part of a group of Shadowhunters that followed Valentine. They wanted to kill all muggles, ahem, Downworlders when the Downworlders arrived in Elba to sign the Accords. For some worldbuilding reason, they have to be signed every fifteen years.

I’m going to cry. I just can’t. A group of magical supremacists who follow a leader whose name starts with the letter V. Please, someone set me free from this hell. Jace recognizes this story; apparently, this was the Uprising. Somehow the Clave managed to wipe out every mention of the Circle, though. Not sure how. Sounds a little bit like a scary place to live, if the government can just wipe out information like that. A healthy government would say, “This was something terrible that our country did. Nobody forget. We must do better.” But apparently Elba is some sort of fascist hothouse. Also, I’m confused what the point of erasing the Circle was if everyone still remembers the Uprising. Whatever.

Hodge finally admits that he used to be part of the Death Eaters, and even helped write the manifesto. Double bombshell, Clary’s mom used to be in it to.

“My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of—some kind of hate group.” “It wasn’t—,” Jace began, but Hodge cut him off.”

Okay, tell me what it wasn’t, Jace? It wasn’t a hate group? They wanted to kill all the Downworlders bc they were just so full of love? No, tell me. I’m interested.

Anyway, Hodge triple-bombshells Clary by telling her that Jocie wouldn’t have much choice in the matter bc she was Valentine’s wife. Let’s just ignore the fact that Jocie still is on the hook for being part of a suprmacist organization and end part one. That’s right, guys! Part one is finished, finito, finis. See you on the flip side.