#I am LIVING for shirtless jeff

[wormy-business]

New transition goals just dropped

#i am DEVOURING him btw #I am LIVING for shirtless jeff #FINALLY!!! #DUDE TUMMY #his stomach hair is driving me insane im so in love with him #jeff johansen #dead by daylight

[kaptainandy]

Here Comes the Bride of Re-Animator article by Chas Balun

from Fangoria #91 | April 1990 (pg. 36 - 40)

bonus highlights because this article altered my brain chemistry:

Right out the gate we are off to the races. Chas really said, "this shit FUCKIN RULES and I will NOT be objective about it!!" Plus calling Herbert, "the bespectacled little guy???" This guy GETS IT!

I too am thankful Dan refuses to leave his "buddy." Is calling two guys "buddies" the gay equivalent of "gal pals?" More at 11.

Fellas....FELLAS??? Commenting on a shirtless Bruce's beefy physique and referring to Jeff as, "small, even delicate," HELLO??? Living for this guy being completely unapologetic in appreciating their physiques. Very understandable.

And lastly, you can't have a comment from Bruce without him being #1 Dan-hater. Calling him a wimp and then confirming that Dan is totally fucked up in the head. Get his ass, king!

#articles that make me insane #also i like this guys writing style he's genuinely funny and informative #reanimator #re-animator #re animator #bride of reanimator #bride of re-animator #bride of re animator #herbert west #daniel cain #dan cain #the bride #jeffrey combs #bruce abbott #carl hill #dr carl hill #david gale #fangoria #1990 #1990s #horror #sfx #sfxgore #sfx horror #blood tw #gore tw #needles tw #body horror tw

[justheretop0st]

Can I request a dead by daylight reaction for David, Jake and Leon where the killer keeps chasing the reader and making suggestive comments. Then when killer has them on their shoulder they slap/hold the readers ass.

Hello again friend! Thank you so much for these asks. I am so blessed that there is a community here that'll share their own prompts and such. Hopefully this will be everything you want! Hope to see you soon!

David

It was a harrowing match. Against the Trapper, there wasn't much they could do. Luckily, (Y/N) and David were in this match. There wasn't much they couldn't achieve. By playing the game and taking advantage of the opportunities given, the two went in with a flashlight and their wits. 

Two generators remaining and only two hooks achieved between the other survivors. The Trapper had his work cut out for him as he dealt with a shirtless man sabotaging the hooks while the other baiting him into pallets. It was a headache. Being blinded did not help either. If they were going to play dirty, then so was he. 

He had managed to down Davids partner in crime away from a pallet and away from any wall to block the light. David was hidden, waiting for the perfect moment to save his partner. He was injured and he tried his best to keep his groans of pain quiet. Unfortunately, he wasn't able hide his pain as well as Jake could. 

As soon as he thought he saw the Trapper moving to pick his partner up, he ran to make a save. But in order to make it in time, he had to use his ability, a rush forward too, usually, avoid a strike from the killer. There was no swing, but he was going to save his partner. Unfortunately, what he understood to be a pick up was the Trapper placing a trap. He had avoided it, but now he was vulnerable to the Trapper. A miscalculation on his end that caused him to lay in a pool of his own blood. 

“You want to play rough, I can play rough.” He reached down to pick up David and got him to a nearby hook. He screamed out, it hurt like always but the Trapper took extra time to hit David once more. 

The Trapper went to the other and grabbed the back of Davids friends pants. Surely this newer player could have found anyone but David to hang around with. With slight of hand, David watched as the Trapper adjusted the other on his shoulder. Bouncing him and at one point patting his partners rear. 

David listened to the Trapper making his way towards Davids hook. Perhaps the Trapper figured someone would save David. But the best thing about this world was the ability to share each others tricks. He had gotten to know Adam after seeing his trick to get off the hook. David had saved Jeff earlier in the round thanks to Bills trick with time. He took the chance to bait the Trapper and force a hit. Luckily, he had his ability to rush away from it.

This gave him to chance to use his flashlight to save his partner in crime. He began to laugh, so did his partner. There was always a way to save one another, and they fought hard to keep attention and to make time for their friends to get their jobs done. 

Jake Park

“I’m not stalking you, I’m doing research” He laughed as she ran away. Run as she might, she couldn't hide from him. They called him Ghostface due to his trademark mask. No one knew what he looked like, but they knew he was the worst to go against. 

There were times whenever he would down someone. As they bleed one the ground, he would T-bag them. Which was annoying considering no other killer could do that. He would peek around corners, purposefully following her around and mocking her. “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living? Besides dying.” 

Jake had enough of it. Usually they had an understanding that neither of them would change how they ran the trials if they were in a match. They wouldn't go out of their way to protect or help each other more than anyone else. There was no hard feelings. But the pull of anger got the best of Jake. Who did this guy think he was? That he could play and ‘flirt’ with his beloved. It was annoying and it would stop. 

He followed her everywhere she went in order to sabotage and protect her. He did everything he could. She gave him looks due to his sudden protective nature. But he didn't care. He wasn't going to let this killer get the best of him.

This repeated from the beginning all the way to the end. Her blood scattered across the arena, and so was his. Ghostface was finally annoyed with Jakes ambitions, and downed him. He was left on the ground watching as Ghostface was able to grab her by the hem of her shirt and pull her back. “You think you’ll escape, but you’ve got a better future behind you!” Another laugh, and his love over Ghostface shoulder made him bubble in anger. 

“Screw you creep! Leave her alone and deal with me like a man!” She wiggled in his arms, but she soon stopped whenever a loud smack echoed in the air. 

Jake stared from the ground with his mouth open in shock. Did he really just smack her butt? “Come on, just giving her what you don't!” He turned to take her to a hook and left Jake alone. He looked around, hoping that someone would come and get him. He heard her scream, and Ghostface’s footsteps. What a jerk. He wouldn't get away with this. Thinking quickly, as Ghostface hoisted him onto his shoulder, laughing. 

Jake took a chance and bit down on the gap where the neck connected to the shoulder. He hopped he drew blood, but it was enough to drop from the killers shoulder. Good, he had shut the guy up. To add insult to injury, Jake opted to give a solid kick to the mans shin. He ran to save his love hoping there would be enough time to run to the exit gate, that surely had to be open. He would give himself up for her, even if they had agreed that they wouldn't change how they played. Better than her ending up with this creep alone. 

Leon

He didn't usually see her in trials. Wether or not it was on purpose or because there was so many other survivors in this world, he was left wanting to follow her around anytime he knew she was in the same trial. There was a possibility that they were bound to die, but in the seriousness of the match he just wanted to be by her. She seemed to feel the same considering she never tried to leave him, even if the killer was on her tail. 

This trial was no different, but there was something off. The group of survivors were going against the Deathslinger. He usually chucked and laughed at the survivors pain, but he was more vocal than ever before. Particularly towards his love. He would chase and hook the others, but the Deathslinger had taken his time chasing and even teasing her. 

He swore he could hear the mans laugh, but following it was a comment. “I have a bounty on your head little lady, but I’ll take your tail instead.” Maybe Leon had wax in his ear, surely this grown man did not just say that her? Perhaps he was hearing things. He still chose to follow her as she ran the Deathslinger around. He had a flashbang in his hand just in case, but he continued to hear these comments. 

“Come on girlie, I want to spill your guts.” He took a shot and didn't miss. The harpoon embedding itself into her back and out her front, right through her stomach. A scream echoed and she fought back against the chain, but it was for naught. She was on the ground and soon the arms of this old man. Leon rushed forward with the fullest intention to toss his flashbang and save his love, but something completely threw him off guard. He watched as the killers hand smacked against her butt and stayed there. That laugh pierced through his ears and he continued to run. 

A swipe of the bayonet against his chest, and threw the flashbang at the killers face. “Sorry excuse of a man, so vulgar.” The flash and went off the second it collided with the Deathslingers head and his love fell to the floor. He took her hand and the two ran as far as they could. He pushed her and told her to find the others and to get out of the trial as quickly as they could. Leon wasn't the best equipped to run this monster around. but a new fire in his chest forced him to step up and rush to destroy this killer. 

#DBD #dbd trapper #dbd survivor #did killer #dbd evan macmillan #dbd jeff #dbd jake park #dbd ghostface #dbd leon s kennedy #dbd deathslinger #evan macmillan #David king #Jake park #Jeffery johansen #leon scott kennedy #caleb quinn

[huniebunny]

So I am almost done with the request you sent to me and it has me in a ushy gushy, soft mood so could you do something with Addict and any person of your choice with any of these? ---->XXXX

[I'm too tire to format this rn, but there's nothing NSFW here. I tried using as many of the prompts as possible to challenge myself]

“I just don’t see why you have to be here,” Varrick growled, narrowing his eyes on Astaraith. He had a distinct plan to cheer up Addict and he didn’t want them interfering. Sure, the others also had plans to cheer her up, but he could have fought them off!

“She likes me. And, I’m the only one who knows how to set these events up without everyone murdering each other,” Astar hissed back. “Knowing the scoundrels who live around here, you all would have spent the time fighting instead of taking care of her.”

“I can take care of her! It’s what I’ve been doing since she was assigned to me!”

Astar rolled their eyes. “Were you really taking care of her? Or were you hiding her away because you were afraid someone else would have her?”

Varrick stiffened up, opening and closing his mouth before settling on. “She wouldn’t have survived without me-”

The door creaked open, stopping the argument from escalating further. Addict stood in the door frame, tiredly blinking at Varrick and Astar. “Is this… a bad time?”

“No-” “Yes-” Astar glared at Varrick, shoving him aside with their hip. Addict started closing the door again. Astar panicked and quickly reached out, settling their hand over hers on the doorknob. “You’re just a little earlier than we expected, Darling. You’re not interrupting anything.” They gently urged Addict to enter, leading her in with a hand on her waist.

She unconsciously melted into their touch, allowing them to lead her inside. The door was kicked shut and the two of them assisted in taking off her weapons and bags. Addict quietly thanked them and was again stopped before she could traverse further into the mansion.

“Varrick, set up with everyone, okay?” Astar requested with a grin. He grumbled before left without another word. “We’re going to get you cleaned up and pretty for everyone, okay?”

Confused, Addict slowly nodded. Astar took her hand and wrapped their free arm around her waist protectively as they led the way to a private bathroom. The door opened, and Addict could barely blush before Astar pushed her in and the door shut behind her. Eyeless Jack and Jeff both stood before her, shirtless, and she tried to hide her face behind her hands. But, a quick peek around didn’t do her current flustered state any favors. A steaming bath wafted the scent of vanilla and a medical kit laid open on the sink counter.

Jeff rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, easing his grip when he focused on her flinch. “C’mon, we don’t have the time for you to be shy. Get undressed. Not like we can really see it anyways.”

EJ elbowed Jeff in the side and made him turn around after Addict was seated. Addict relaxed a bit and began peeling off her clothes that stank with sweat, dirt, and blood. Jack grabbed some antiseptic and bandages. “Were you hurt?” He asked, kneeling in front of her. Her eyes widened and her blush deepened in color.

“Just a little bruised and cut up around my sides, but I’m okay…” She reported, lifting her arms so he could treat her wounds easier. Jack reached out and felt along her abdomen, smirking under his mask as her muscles flinched away from his cold touch. But as his fingers traced along the first cut, his smirk fell. His fingertips grazed over the scabbing before following the action with the antiseptic. He mumbled an apology as he cleaned up the cuts and followed with the waterproof bandages. Once he was done, he stood. Jeff took his place and offered his hand.

Addict blushed but felt safe that his nearsighted gaze was turned away from her. He helped her into the bath and sat on the floor beside the tub as Jack packed up and left. The two just spent some time in silence as she soaked up the warmth from the water. She already felt more relaxed than if she had taken the evening herself. She probably would have just found a quiet space to smoke. This was nice though. Did Astar plan all of this?

“So, what’s the special occasion?” She asked softly. Jeff coughed in response, but offered his hand again.

She turned in the tub and placed her hand in his. He ran his rough fingers along her palm as if thinking of how he should answer.

“Just noticed you’re working yourself to death,” he vaguely answered.

“And who’s everyone Astar mentioned?” Jeff remained silent for that one, pulled her hand closer to his face, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His lips lingered over her skin, before he turned her hand over and pressed another kiss to her palm. His gaze wasn’t on her, but she stared at him. 

Her legs pressed together under the water. She bit her lip as her hand curled to cup his cheek. His scars rubbed against her skin in a way that should have been unnerving, but it only brought her more comfort. “I suppose I’ll find out then.”

“You have all the time in the world..” Jeff whispered against her wrist before letting go.

She cleaned herself up, tying her hair in a bun. Jeff handed her a towel and led her out to her bedroom, where Astar awaited her again. “Thank you, Jeff. I’ll take things from here~,” They purred. Jeff rolled his eyes but handed Addict off to them. Astar smiled at Addict and led her over to a vanity that was never previously in her room.

“How was your bath? Did they get you all patched up?” They asked, sitting her down as they grabbed a few combs and hair products. 

“Um, yeah. It was nice. Did you plan all of this?”

“I set it up so no one ignores you in their dumb possessiveness,” They explained taking down the bun and brushing through the tangles. They dried out her hair, and pulled it into a new up-do. Astaraith looked at them through the mirror and sweetly pulled back the edges still framing her face. They stepped around her chair and leaned against the vanity before cupping her face in their palms.

Addict couldn’t help the flush over her cheeks as Astar stared her down with a sultry adoration. Astar pulled her in and their foreheads pressed together. “And I would still do this for you even if you weren’t running yourself ragged.” With that, they stole a kiss from her lips before pulling back standing. “Now let’s get you dressed.”

Honestly, the choice in outfit made Addict blush. It was much more form fitting than she’d wear, but Astar pushed her towards the door when a knock sounded before she could argue to change into something else. She lightly glared at Astar then opened the door to see Varrick there. He sharply inhaled and his gaze slowly traveled along her figure that he rarely got to admire in full. Shallowly, and shakily exhaling, he clenched a fist behind his back. Astar was going to pay for this. But his eyes finally met hers again and he offered his free arm to her.

She followed him out, with his hand hovering behind her back as they entered the informal living area of the mansion. There, all of her friends and… romantic interests… sat. Varrick settled her onto the couch, beside Masky, before sitting down next to her. Astar made their way down as well, settling next to Hoody on the floor. The TV was set to her favorite movie.

Her eyes widened. Of course, she knew this was all for her, but she didn’t think realizing it would affect her this much. As the movie started, tears filled her eyes as relief and safety filled her being. It was too good to be true.

A hand silently slid against her palm and intertwined their fingers. She glanced down and followed the arm up to the white mask she’d grown to love. Just that one action made everything perfect.

#hunie speaks #creepypasta #creepypasta oc #addict #varrick #astaraith #cp masky #eyeless jack #jeff the killer

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

**

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. ��Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

**

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fiction #harry styles story #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles reader insert #harry styles ou #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x ocf #that makes four #unplanned #call me cat #idkthisisjustforfanfic #tmf

[whorekneecentral]

Ok I can’t find the one from this episode I’m watching but I searched “jeff Clarke shirtless” so I could include a photo

Thinking about having known Jeff for a long time and then falling out of touch and when you met again he’s in med school and just being like “first a firefighter and now a doctor? You just keep getting sexier” and realizing what you said and trying to cover it up “sexier jobs that is” and he just smirks and then somehow smut that’s as far as I’ve got I trust your brain

HOW AM I NOW GETTING TO THISSSSS I’m telling y’all that you’re sleeping on Jeff 😩

——

You had the lab results that Ethan was waiting on and you were rushing through the crowed ED. It was flu season and every parent seemed to think their kid had the flu so it was hectic.

You barley noticed when you bumped into someone. You glance up at the man, “I’m so so- Jeff?” Your brows furrow, your friend smiling at you.

You and Jeff had mutual friends when you were in college. The last time you saw him, he has just gotten married and enlisted. Kelly had told you he was in Chicago and over at 51 for a bit but you never actually saw him until now.

You noticed the white lab coat he had on. “You’re a doctor ?” You ask him, Jeff smiles. “It’s nice to see you too y/n, clearly you’re still the same - in a rush and to the point” he laughs, making you blush.

“I’m in med school, started a while ago.” He tells you.

“Yeah, Kelly had mentioned you were back but I thought you were still at 51.”

“I was but I needed a change.”

“First a firefighter and now a doctor? You just keep getting sexier huh?” You look at him, his brows furrow at your statement as a smirk creeps onto his face.

It clicked what you said, you’re sure your face is red. “I mean, sexier jobs obviously” you correct yourself. Jeff nods, “obviously.” He says with a smile.

“What time are you off?” He asks, his hands in his pockets- reminding you of when he was that shy guy in the group that barely spoke until you spoke to him.

“Uhhh in 15, hopefully. You know how things go here” sighing, you remember you have Ethan’s labs with you.

“Let me give you a ride home, we can catch up or something” Jeff offers, it was snowing and your car was in the shop so what’s the harm.

“Sure, I’ll meet you in 20?” You tell him as you start walking towards trauma 3. “Yeah!” He calls out to you.

——

The two of you sat in your living room, Jeff had given you a ride so you invited him in for dinner which turned into after dinner drinks so there you were sitting on the couch with your old friend, sort of tipsy.

“You know, I did mean what I said earlier” you down the rest of the glass, setting it down on the coffee table before leaning back into the cushions.

“And what’s that?” Jeff had an amused look on his face, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“That you keep getting sexier.”

“I figured as much.” His hand rests on your knee, moving up towards you thigh slowly.

“If you want me, all you gotta do is ask doctor.” you smile sweetly at him, Jeff took that as his chance to pull you over onto his lap.

“I want you.” His lips are on yours, hands under your top.

“That wasn’t a question” you mumbled between kisses, legs hooking around his waist as he gets up and walks towards the stairs.

Jeff had your back pressed against the wall, he pulled away from the kiss for a second. “I take what I want.”

#this ran from me loool #jeff clarke #jeff clarke smut

[dweetwise]

survivors as roommates hcs

just some silly little headcanons i wrote between fics <3

Dwight is a huge pushover. Late on rent? Dwight has you covered. Ate his food? “Haha, it’s fine, you were probably more hungry anyway and it’s not like I need to eat today—”. He’s a little messy but mostly keeps to himself, unless you befriend him, in which case he’s clingy af. Constantly asks to hang out and isn’t the best at understanding social cues.

Meg is a whirlwind, leaving stuff in her wake wherever she goes. She leaves for morning runs at like 4 am and showers weird hours of the day. She’s also really assertive, going “You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you? Ok cool!” and sprinting off before you can even reply.

Claudette keeps to herself. Hope you don’t mind the 6281 plants that start in her bedroom and slowly spread to cover every available surface of the apartment. Sometimes she leaves weird science projects in the fridge that you do not want to accidentally drink unless you want to be poisoned by some obscure plant.

Jake just wants to be alone. He’s a hermit, never having people over and shutting himself into his room if you do. He can go days without showering, so hope you don’t mind his stink or the constant weed smell.

Nea will throw impromptu parties and leaves her shit laying around. Empty spray paint cans are now a permanent part of your décor, since no matter how many you throw out, more always appear. She has a habit of adopting stray cats and you’re not even sure how many are in the apartment at this point.

Laurie is the most perfect roommate anyone could ask for. She usually just keeps to herself and reads books or something, but will almost always join you in watching a movie or cooking or whatever, if you ask. She’s also very neat and will clean up after you, even if she scolds you for it. Sometimes she’s a little too responsible and doesn’t know how to let loose, so you won’t be throwing any wild parties with her around.

Ace on the other hand, is… well. A wild card. He doesn’t have a sleep schedule, stumbling home at varying hours in the middle of the night from god-knows-where. Will bring home random hook-ups. Will beg you to lend rent money when he’s gambled away his share. Will make you cover for him when the police comes knocking. 0/10 worst roommate wouldn’t recommend, the only thing he’s good for is a laugh and knowing the best parties.

Bill smokes inside. He also snores. Loudly. Usually falls asleep with the tv blaring, so hope you have earplugs. There’s also the war flashbacks, which… yeah you should probably not ask him about that.

Feng will play games all night, screaming at her teammates over Discord. Again, earplugs are a must, or alternatively you can join her in game and be screamed at. She lives on energy drinks and you��re not 100% sure she even sleeps.

David is kind of unpredictable. He’s punched at least two dents in the wall after losing at Mario Kart. Has a boxing bag in his room that he loudly beats up. If you have friends over, he’s going to do shirtless push-ups right in front of them. He sleeps naked and sometimes forgets to put on clothes so you’ll be getting an eyeful whether you like it or not.

Quentin is a great roommate… except when he’s asleep, because he sleepwalks and has night terrors. When he’s awake he’s super chill, picking up after himself and letting you do your thing, occasionally asking to hang out but not minding if you say no.

Tapp will complain about the slightest bit of noise, and you’d better not be doing any drugs or underage drinking. Is the most punctual with paying rent and utility bills, and you can bet he’s always in bed by 9 pm.

Kate is tidy, but her music doesn’t have an off button. Sometimes her inspiration hits in the middle of the night, and while she tries to be quiet, she gets carried away and always ends up singing at full volume. Will also insist on throwing huge bbq parties no matter the season.

Adam is a very nice roommate. His biggest sin is being a little forgetful and sometimes leaving wet laundry in the machine until it starts to smell. He works long hours and isn’t home a lot, but still somehow manages to do his share of the housework.

Jeff tries his best not to make a mess with his art but the paint splatters are inevitable. He comes with a dog and the entire apartment is now filled with both the puppy’s and Jeff’s long hairs. Surprisingly, the death metal isn’t an issue in the slightest because he always listens to music with headphones.

Jane listens to podcasts on speaker. Is a little bit of a mom, often cooking extras so you can have some later, and even occasionally washing your laundry. Her guilty pleasure is watching corny telenovelas and you can bet your ass she’s yelling at the tv in her native tongue.

Ash is just loud. He talks to himself, laughs at shitty sitcoms and brings home random hookups to have obnoxiously loud sex. Sometimes leaves his prosthetic in odd places especially when he’s been drinking. You’ve found it in the freezer at least twice.

Nancy is mostly really neat and organized. Sometimes, she leaves research papers strewn around and you do not want to touch them or, heaven forbid, throw them away lest you want to face her wrath.

Steve is messy and a little spoiled. His room is pure chaos, and occasionally sweaty socks and basketball shorts make their way to the shared living space. The apartment always smells faintly of hairspray.

Yui constantly has her gang over, and they’re nice enough but it gets a little annoying. Constant motor oil smell from when she’s been tinkering with a bike part. Once, she even brought the entire bike indoors and you got into a fight when she tried to get rid of the couch to make room for it.

Zarina has photography and film equipment laying around the entire apartment, especially when she’s working on a project. She’s a great cook and the kitchen smells like exotic spice 24/7, so depending on your tastes that’s either the best or worst thing ever.

Cheryl means well but is a disaster. If she tries to cook, the kitchen looks like a hurricane and smells burnt, and you’ve found the laundry machine overflowing with foam more times than you can remember. You might need to parent her until she learns the ropes.

Felix is neat but doesn’t know how to relax. He’ll often pull all-nighters and passive-aggressively complain if you disturb him. Miniature buildings will appear on every available surface, especially when nearing a deadline.

#dbd headcanons #dweetwrites #dbd survivor #dbd #dead by daylight #weed tw #only mentioned but still! #dbd crack

[harrysgoldrush]

and they were roommates {h.s.} v

a/n: this is my favorite ones so far! i’m planning on starting a tags list for this series of unorganized blurbs! comment below if you want to be included on the list :)

masterlist

“can i stay?” you mumbled, burying your face into his neck as he pulled you close. you had come home, stressed beyond belief from your latest meeting with your editor.

you had been confident with your latest work, so much so you hadn’t even shown harry. your editor had returned it covered in red pen, telling you it wasn’t your best work.

that it lacked originality.

that it was any hallmark movie showing around february 14th. 

okay, that one was an exaggeration.

harry was in your room, digging through your closet and looking for the red bandana he had asked to borrow.

hearing you slam the door, he was quick to stand up, ready to investigate the cause of your sudden wave of emotions.

wordlessly you had thrown yourself onto your bed, face down on your pillow. harry quietly climbed onto your unmade bed, laying down beside you as he rubbed your back.

“i’m here when you’re ready.”

he listened patiently as you ranted, confessing how difficult it had been as of late, especially with how connected you felt to the outside world. it was always difficult to break away and you relied on your electronics to write.

he had left quickly at that mention, coming back with a gentle smile before he presented a small leather journal.

“i like to use a journal. like to keep it old school. makes me look cool too.”

you had laughed at that, taking the journal from him with a gracious smile. setting it down on your nightstand, you made grabby hands at the taller man who easily crawled back into bed and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“is that your way of telling me you’re not moving anytime soon?”

“maybe,” you mumbled, humming lightly as he ran his fingernails up and down your back. “it’s your fault really, you’re an irresistible cuddler.”

“am i?”

“don’t get a big head. i’ll take it back.”

the two of you lay in silence for a while, just listening to the other one breathing. it was funny how easily harry could relax you, even on your worst days he could make you smile.

“y’know how i feel right now?” you piped up, earning a sleepy groan from harry.

“like ray lamontagne’s song. it always makes me think of you. because you’ve become such a big part of my life and i can’t remember life before i met my best friend.”

“are you a novelist?” he murmured softly, lifting an arm up so he could reach your hair. “you’re sounding very poetic right now.”

���i’m being nice, harry. you could try it.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?” he laughed before taking a deep breath. “i don’t know what i’d do without you. think i’d be insanely homesick. you made this apartment feel like home. i’d stay like this forever if i could. and don’t worry about what irene said; you’re a phenomenal writer and i’m sure she’s just trying to push you because of how highly she thinks of you. it’s stressful, yeah, but think of how amazing you’ll feel once it’s published and flying off of the shelves.”

“and what if she’s right? what if i’m no better than one of those cheesy hallmark movies?”

“then i’ll buy every copy and read them all. but it won’t.”

“i’d do the same, y’know?” you peeked you at him, smiling back at him when he caught your gaze. “i can tell you’re nervous about releasing new music but you’re talented harry. it’s clear just by seeing the books your read and the music you listen to. you just have to be confident in yourself. be sure of who you are.”

“what would i do without a best friend like you?”

something between you and harry had changed that night. he was much more affectionate now, feeling more comfortable around you. he no longer awkwardly lingered outside of your door, waiting to be invited in. he wasn’t afraid to lean on you during a late-night movie or grab your hand if either of you started to cry during the notebook.

he was always eager to read your work and had even begun sharing snippets of lyrics he had begun writing recently. you had even taken up writing ideas in the journal he had given you, smiling fondly at the first page where he had messily scribbled your name with a pen that was running out of ink.

can i stay became a commonly used phrase between the two of you, whenever you needed company or just a hug. one day when you hadn’t been feeling well, you had gone as far as throwing crumpled pieces of paper at him, hoping to catch his attention so he would bring you some ice cream and cuddles.

he was more confident, he somehow seemed to be smiling even more, and you could tell he was excited about something but he refused to tell you until you came home one day and he was beginning to pack a suitcase.

“so you’re leaving for jamaica?” you asked, sitting on the edge of his bed as he searched through his drawers.

“in a few days, yeah.”

“oh. how long?”

“however long it takes to write an album—”

“an album?” you asked quickly, eyes growing wide. “harry that’s brilliant!”

“yeah, well, it’s thanks to you. you gave me the push i needed to realize that i’m ready. and jeff suggested we fly out there to get away from everything.”

“i’ve always hated jeff, knew he was out to steal you from me.”

harry laughed and turned to face you, giving a sweet smile as he walked to stand in front of you.

“i’ll miss you too. but before you go on hating me for leaving like this, i did something.”

“something bad?”

“i hope not.” unbuttoning his shirt, your eyebrows raised as you watched him take his shirt off.

it wasn’t like this was the first time you had seen harry shirtless. you lived with him and the interest existed. but now you were invited to look, confused by harry who stood expectantly.

“what am i supposed to be looking at?”

harry gave you an incredulous look before gesturing towards his left shoulder which was partially bandaged.

“what the hell? when did you get hurt?”

“i got a tattoo!” he explained, sitting down beside you. “go on, take a look.”

hesitantly, you began to carefully take the bandages off. “i don’t know how i was supposed to realize you got another tattoo, you already have so many.”

“it was bandaged.”

“well you’re a giant, you can’t expect me to immediately notice something on your shoulder. this better not be my face, harry styles or i’ll kill y—”

your voice fell as you stared down at the familiar handwriting now permanently drawn on his skin. feeling your eyes begin to water as your throat begins to tighten, you looked up to see harry watching you closely with kind eyes.

“do you like it?”

“h-how did yo—”

“saved those sticky notes you had thrown at me last month.”

beginning to cry gently, you let harry pull you into a hug, careful to avoid hurting his fairly recent tattoo. “i can’t believe you’d do that.”

“i thought you’d like it.”

“i do. i love it. so much. but you’re a jerk for being so nice to me when i’m already going to miss you when you go away.”

“maybe we can sneak you over without jeff noticing.”

“yeah right. didn’t he say no distractions?”

“you’re right, you’d only cause trouble down there.”

“i could behave.”

humming, harry laughed and said, “i’ll think about it. don’t think we should stress him out until at least the second album.”

“can’t wait.” you smiled, twisting in his arms so you could admire his newest tattoo.

can i stay?

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry #styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles tattoos #harry styles blurb #harry styles blog #harry styles tpwk #tpwk #romance #romance novels #romance movies #roommates #friends to lovers #hs1

[kiarythewolf]

-Jeff's pov- It was a normal afternoon, and I was walking through the hallways, heading forward LJs room .I don't know what pushed me to do that, but I just felt that I needed to: since that Isacc guy came to the mansion, LJ was strangely quiet, expecially around him. I mean, I'm not surprised: I know about their past, but it still feels weird. While finishing these thoughts, I arrived in front of LJs rooms door. Normally, I would simply knock at the door and wait for him to answer, just like he does with me: even if we are together, it doesn't mean that we shouldn't respect eachothers privacy. I was, in fact, about to knock, when I heard some noises coming from the other side, I couldn't make it out though: What was he doing?I was slightly confused, so I leaned further on the door, hoping to listen a little more; I could hear breathing, heavy breathing, almost like if...if he was out of air?what was happening?I was even more confused, although curiosity and concern took over. I opened the door....and my eyes widened even more than I thought was possible; even if the lights were out, with the hallways lights shining through the room, I could make out exacly what the display in front of me was: LJ was on his knees on the floor, panting like crazy, and giving the back to the door....his back was a mess: once there were only barely noticeable scars, the ones from his past, but now there were new fresh ones, some of them even cutting open the old wounds, and a quite alarming amount of blood was coming out. At this point, I was frozen on the doorframe: I didn't fucking know what the best reaction would have been! I was trying so hard to make order into my mind: confusion, panic, pity, sadness...frustration?was I like this because of what he did to himself?Maybe, but it wasn't the only reason, there was more...and when I realised I felt my blood boiling in my vein, turning my frustration into pure rage: Isacc Grossman!That fucking bastard must've reminded something to LJ, it's his fault!As soon as I see him again-...maybe a split of seconds have passed, I don't really remember, while I was lost in my murderous thoughts, when I stopped after noticing that LJ didn't move from that spot: did he even noticed that I was there, behind him?He then started sobbing softly and to tremble. After this, all of my thoughts and all of my emotions moved into the back of my head, and was replaced by a new feeling, something that maybe I had proved before in my past life, but never this strong...I felt heartbroken. I relied on my instinct: I stepped inside the room, kneeled down and hugged him from behind. I felt him gasp and twitch out of suprise: he really didn't noticed me before. I just hugged him tightly, pressing my chest into his back, hoping to stop the bleeding: I couldn't care much of a shit if my hoodie would get all bloody!For a few seconds he didn't moved, for a moment I even thought he stopped breathing, but then he began to cry, first softly, and then openly, sobbing and trembling even more; I panicked a little bit: never in my lives I needed, or even felt the necessity, to comfort someone,expecially if they were crying,so I didn't know shit about what to do nor if what I was doing was either helping or was just stupid. For an instant, I thought about pulling out, but just as I moved a bit, LJ panicked and grabbed my arms: I understood just like that, he didn't need to say anything. So I stayed there, while he was letting all his desperation and pain out. It's odd: I'm a ruthless, mercyless, blood-thirsty killer who kills for fun, who shouldn't even take into consideration a love life...and yet here I am, trying my hardest to comfort a person that I love, out of a stabbing heartbreaking feeling, while planning how to make the asshole who provoke this pay! In the meantime, LJ finally calmed down, leaning on me :I don't care If I shouldn't do this: it doesn't mean that I will stop killing, it's too much fun!But right now, I'm just relieved that I managed to make LJ feel a little better. ~~~~~~~~~ -LJ's pov- It all happened too quickly...everything is so fragmented...I was in the kitchen, a second later I was in my room, shirtless, and another second later on my knees, bleeding...some things are clear, too clear, but others are foggy. I can remember when I was in the kitchen and met Isacc casually: maybe he said something, or maybe not; then 'fog', and then a moment later I was in my room, with lights off- the only source was the late afternoon sky, which means that I could barely see-, and...shirtless?I wanted to change into more casual clothes maybe?Anyway, the thing is that, somehow, I got lost into my own thoughts: Isacc's presence...I don't know how to feel about it; I met him sometimes, but seeing him for multiple days...it disturbs me a little. I don't 'hate' him: it's true that 'he' is the motive behind my past sufferance, since he totally forgot about me and abandoned me for 13 years, but It's also true that 'I' caused him to leave and going to the reformatory and, after he returned, I caused his 'death'. We are both to blame here, so I stay neutral forward him, avoiding trouble and anything regarding our past...but I don't know if he wants to do the same: he would always-'always'- hint at that; it makes me feel frustrated, or nervous, or anxious...it's like if he wants to make me feel bad-when did the room became so cold?-maybe he's not even doing it on porpouse, but it still hurts...not really because I feel guilty for what I did, but for what happened in the time that he was absent, when I was trapped in that fucking box!With the pain and the sorrow...and the loneliness...I just stayed there, inside the box, alone, forgotten...and cold-why do I feel so cold now?I don't like it- and the worst thing is that it doesn't matter how much I try to forget, that Hell still comes into my mind even now!I know that it's useless, but I just can't stop!Why are always the bad memories to come to the surface first?-Why does it hurt so bad!?!?-...I snapped out of my thoughts: how much time it passed? I instantly fell on my knees: my legs were strangely weak, and...I was out of breath!It was like I held my breath unconsciously, my throat was burning and my eyes were watery...why am I hugging myself?As soon as that thought crossed my mind I felt a horrible feeling across my back, a brutal stinging feeling...I already experimented that, and that's what scared me the most. I slowly put my hands in front of me...It was too dark for me to see at first, but then somehow some light came into the room- where that light even come from?-It was like some cruel force of the nature wanted me to know what I have done: my fingers...my back...my blood...I was shocked, with a hint of disappointment: even if I could feel it running down my back, my own blood felt cold in any-I jumped violently as soon as something wrapped around me: it wasn't tight but I still was shocked, for a moment I even stopped breathing. It was obviously a person, but since I was in a hurrigane of emotions at that moment, I couldn't make myself an idea of who could that be. I took my sight off of my bloody fingertips and put my attention on what was around my arms and torso: despite how blurry my vision was, I could see white...white sleeves?of a hoodie?...then It hit me:Jeff?...Jeff!...I made order into my mind a little bit, just to make 'extra' sure to don't illude myself...and O was sure It was him...when did he came in?Did I seriously not noticed?After a moment, I realized it: that warmth...the warmth that I prove only when I'm with him...I didn't know how much I needed that before I actually felt it...it was what I was starving for: just his presence makes me feel warm. I started crying: I was suddently recalling vividly what happened back in the past, but I knew that Jeff was there... I didn't know if I was crying for desperation or out of happiness, maybe both?I'm not so used to recieve affection when I'm sad:If I am I just hide or I repress that...Then he moved and I got afraid, so I reacted on instinct and grabbed his arms to make him stay: I didn't want him to go!I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't find my voice...and I didn't need to: he understood. So we stayed there , without facing eachother, but I didn't care. I don't know how much time passed, but I eventually calmed down: I wanted to thank him but my voice still was nowhere to be found, so I just leaned on him...I really love him. This is funny: being a creepypasta means I shouldn't prove such feelings, right? And yet here I am...I don't feel bad though: I know what I am now and don't intend to turn back...I just need someone to stay with me, so that I feel less empty: and that someone is Jeff...only him can manage to make me feel better. ~~~~~~~~~~ I hope I made a good job!! And that you enjoy it!!

#Gay stuff #Laughing Jack x Jeff the Killer #Hurt/Comfort #POV

[gumnut-logic]

The Hero (Part Five)

Title: The Hero

Sequel/companion piece to The Joker

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Author: Gumnut

20 Nov 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Thunderbird Two, with Virgil and Gordon aboard, is hijacked and stolen. With Virgil injured, it is up to Gordon to save his brother and his ‘bird. Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’. Gordon is far more than he seems.

Word count: 2301

Spoilers & warnings: Violence, WASP!Gordon, Military!Scott, whump, language.

Timeline: Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’.

Author’s note: For @corbyinoz because she has written some magnificent Virgil and Gordon fics and is a great inspiration. Thank you for all your wonderful words.

Half the size of the last chapter, but it called for a cut here. I hope you enjoy it :D

It started with ‘The Joker’. I got interested in WASP!Gordon and decided to explore his side of the story. Then PLOT happened. Now I have no idea what is going on.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for putting up with my crazy.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Tanusha Kyrano baffled Gordon Tracy.

She was the same age as he was, so theoretically he should have had a new friend who could team up with him against all older and younger brothers.

But she wouldn’t let him in.

The girl was standoffish, never smiled and even showed fear at his presence at times. When her father was around, she clung to him.

It took Gordon a long time to work it all out, after all there was only so much an eight-year-old could possibly understand about the world. Over time she did relent and grew closer to all the brothers, though more than some.

She never did quite trust Gordon.

Oh, he had no doubt she loved him like a brother as he loved her like a sister, but there was always something caught between them.

Perhaps he should not have pranked her when she was so young...when she was vulnerable, but he hadn’t understood and the damage had been done.

He had only wanted to make her smile.

But Tanusha Kyrano had been hurt far too much in her young life and it showed.

As they grew up, she followed him into school, into his classes. There was the time he stood up to the bullies who cornered her in the gym.

Several years later, she returned the favour, nearly crippling a boy in the process.

His father hadn’t been happy.

Kyrano had frowned, but even Gordon had the astuteness to see that sparkle in the security officer’s eyes.

No one messed with Kayo after that.

Scott had sat her down and there had been words. The eldest Tracy liked to keep his ragtag entourage on the right side of the law.

Gordon just smiled and elbowed her in the ribs.

Her smile in return had lifted his spirits more than any grin ever could have.

From that point on, she was his sister on all fronts.

When Jeff Tracy disappeared, she was already fully groomed to support International Rescue. She stepped into her father’s role like she was made for it.

She was.

But the smiles disappeared.

But then no one was smiling on Tracy Island for quite some time.

Then a burly rescuee caught Gordon off guard and landed him in the hospital. Scott was worried. Virgil, hovering.

Kayo was livid.

The tongue lashing she gave him was one for the record books. The moment he was mobile and functional, her training response began.

All the brothers were caught up in it. Virgil complained like crazy, Alan whined, John tried to hide until Kayo rode the elevator herself and dragged him down by the scruff of his uniform.

How she found a scruff on that skin tight garment was one of the major mysteries of their time.

Scott just backed her up in full.

Even when she wiped the mat with him.

Sixteen times.

But Gordon...Gordon found his feet. Grief had knocked the family sideways. This return to training, to honing his body to its best, it was familiar and it made him better.

It became ritual, one they both enjoyed.

And he could almost match her.

Almost.

Until one day he did.

-o-o-o-

“Hello, Mister Virgil.”

Virgil blinked up at the silver-haired man and frowned. “What are you doing here?” He steeled himself and pushed his body upright, gritting his teeth as absolutely everything complained, but there was no way he was lying down for this conversation.

A hand caught him and helped him right himself.

He sat on the edge of the bed. A moment to catch his breath.

And he realised he was shirtless and only wearing pyjama shorts.

A flash of modesty and he came to the conclusion that he didn’t have the energy to care.

Kyrano grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him. “How are you, Mister Virgil?”

A sigh. “Been better. Scott call you in?”

“He did.” Those green eyes were assessing. “What happened?”

Virgil closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “I got my ass handed to me.”

“You did.” He didn’t have to look to know those green eyes were tracking the bruising across his torso. “What did they want?”

“The usual.”

“Specifics.”

Virgil paused and looked up at the man. “What, Scott didn’t give you the details?”

“I need to hear your version.”

“Bad guys, wanted my ‘bird, beat me up, Gordon saved me, we came home. End of story.”

“They had you drugged and restrained. What did they want?”

The man’s bluntness cut to the core of the matter and it hurt more than his ribs. “As I said, my ‘bird.” He stared at Kyrano and something chewed on the back of his mind. There was something...

“Do you know who they were?”

“Scott knows. Some new group, Null? Got it in for us and the Chaos Crew. Apparently, we’re the easier target.” The logic behind that just hurt. Who thought there would be so much opposition to he and his brothers simply trying to save lives? Sometimes the world just sucked.

“Mister Virgil, did you recognise any of them?”

A blink. “What?”

“Were any of your captors familiar?”

Involuntarily, his mind was flung back to that woozy fog. His memory was patchy and faded in and out. “They were going to hurt Gordon.” Panic swelled as the memories caught him. “Can’t let him hurt Gordon!”

His agitated voice echoed around his bedroom and snapped him out of the memory.

Him.

The image was blurry. He had been held down and something shoved into his mouth. Something. Forced to swallow.

Sad green eyes.

Oh, hell.

-o-o-o-

“Kyrano?” Gordon just stared at his aunt. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Kyrano has been a member of this family for a long time, Colonel. You better have proof to back up that statement.” Scott’s voice was cold.

“As a similar member of your family, Scott, I hope you would trust me enough to not make such an accusation lightly. He was recently identified in conversation with the leaders of the Null faction.”

Gordon flared. “How the hell do you manage to uncover information like that, yet can’t catch a single asshole?”

Brown eyes swung around and pinned him where he stood. “I know your confidence in the GDF has fallen in recent years, Gordon, but trust me when I say we are not completely useless.”

Could have fooled me. But he didn’t say it. “Conversation? Doesn’t specify much.”

“Lieutenant, have you considered why we did not capture any Null operatives after this incident?”

She hadn’t called him by his rank in years. It straightened his spine regardless. “Why?”

“Because your operative was onsite. There were casualties.”

Gordon froze. Casualties. But... “Well, that vetoes your theory. Kyrano wouldn’t let himself be seen unless he wanted you to see him.”

“What he wanted is unknown, but he was there, Lieutenant. My question is, do you know where he is now?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but Scott cut him off. “Why, Colonel?”

Her eyes grew cold. “Don’t protect him, Commander. This goes far beyond you and I. He is a dangerous man.”

“I am well aware of his capabilities, Commander. As I am yours.”

Her lips thinned. “Pride before the fall, Scott. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m en route.” She paused a moment. A blink and her eyes softened. “Scott, you’re family. Please believe me, I don’t want to see you or your brothers hurt.”

Scott tilted his head just slightly. “We’re already hurt, Aunt Val. I’m sorry, but your concerns are a few injuries too late.”

His brother’s words hit hard and Gordon held back a flinch as his aunt took a step back. “Very well, Commander. I will see you shortly.” The transmission cut, leaving silence in the comms room.

Except for the blood in his ears.

Gordon jabbed his comms, bruising his collarbone in the process. “Kayo, is Kyrano with you?”

Her negative came back immediately. “He left a good fifteen minutes ago. I thought he was with you?”

A sigh. “He isn’t. Tin, you need to find him now.”

“FAB.”

Scott’s voice was sharp and desolate. “Thunderbird Five, give me a location on Kyrano.”

John flickered in. “You know I can’t track him, Scott.”

“Find him.” The tone brooked no argument and John blinked out.

The eyes that turned to Gordon were tortured. “If he was on site...”

“He wanted to speak to Virgil. He has been very interested in Virgil.”

A moment and Scott was moving, Gordon on his heels.

-o-o-o-

Virgil froze his expression, but he had never been good at lying or obfuscation.

“Mister Virgil.” The older man sighed and shook his head. “I am so sorry.” Those green eyes were sad again and it chilled him.

“Kyrano?”

“You were always the gentle one. You took such care of Tanusha. The music maker, the artist. I did hope you could not remember. But I can’t let that go.”

Images flickered in Virgil’s head, his brain attempting to reconcile the quiet, calm man of his childhood with the foggy blur who had hurt him.

With the sad man before him.

He shifted back on the bed, attempting to gain distance, but Kyrano reached into his tunic and pulled out a familiar electroshock weapon and shoved it into Virgil’s thigh.

The result was immediate. His whole body locked up, pain pulsing in waves as his muscles spasmed. It seemed to go on forever. He couldn’t cry out, couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe.

And it stopped.

Blood stole his hearing as he gasped in air, his lungs struggling to compensate. His body failed to respond to any of his commands to move away and he lay limp on the bed while Kyrano straightened up, staring down at him.

“I had hoped you would at least put up a fight. It isn’t like I want to put you down like a dog. I’d rather not kill you at all.”

Virgil opened his mouth, at first gaping like a fish, desperately trying to form a word.

Kyrano continued to gaze calmly down at him.

Supreme effort and Virgil got out one word in little more than a gasp. “W-why?”

“Because I have no choice.” And there was true sadness in those green eyes. “I can’t...” A swallow. “I tried...” He shook his head. “What has to be done, is done.” Something truly pain-filled flickered across his face.

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and, opening it, held up a tiny pill. “Now it is time for you to go to sleep and never wake up.”

No.

This couldn’t be right.

Kyrano was a second father. He had been there all his life. He couldn’t...

Virgil tried to drag himself across the bed and away, but his limbs wouldn’t respond correctly. The bed covers scrunched up under him.

“I have always admired that Tracy stubbornness. It has kept your family alive and moving through so many challenges.” A hand clamped onto Virgil’s leg and yanked. “I wish it could do the same this time.”

“No! N-no, don’t!” But Kyrano was pulling him closer, a hand clamped around his neck, a knee pressed down on his throbbing thigh.

A shadow appeared behind Kyrano and the man spun off Virgil, leaving him gasping.

“Daughter. I expected better from you.” The voice was calm and while Virgil attempted to regain control of his breathing, there was little more than the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

“Still predictable, I see.” Something smashed. Virgil desperately tried to move, to struggle off the bed. Kayo. He squeezed his eyes shut. Pull yourself together. Kyrano was going to hurt Kayo.

His daughter.

This couldn’t be right.

He finally turned his body enough to see the two opponents.

There was killing force at work.

Kayo had always been impressive, but this was beyond it all. Their bodies were a blur and every movement was counteracted by the other.

His sister’s expression was contorted.

A matter of seconds and her father broke through her defences. A single targeted stroke and Tanusha flew across the room to collide with the window sill. A sickening thud and his sister collapsed to the floor.

She didn’t get up.

“Oh, Tanusha.” Virgil frowned as the man wiped away a tear. “I tried to spare you. I tried so hard.”

“Kyrano!” Scott stood in the door, a weapon in his hand.

The security officer didn’t hesitate. Spinning he struck out ever so fast. The gun went flying. The electroshock weapon whipped into Kyrano’s hand and jabbed into Scott’s gut.

His brother spasmed and collapsed, twitching, his blue eyes open but vacant.

Virgil finally managed to throw himself off the bed.

He slid to a heap on the floor, little better off than his brother.

Kyrano turned to him. “I am so sorry, Mister Virgil.” The man reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “It has to be done more than ever now. At least it will bring all of this to an end.” A harsh breath. “Finally, an end.”

But there was a huff of breath as they were suddenly yanked apart. Virgil hit the ground hard, his ribs screamed.

“Get the fuck away from him.”

A grunt. Flesh hitting flesh. Virgil struggled to look up.

“Mister Gordon.” A slap.

“What the hell are you doing, K?” Another thud and something crashed to the floor. Virgil finally managed to turn himself around.

Kyrano and Gordon were circling each other. Calm green met furious red brown.

“I do what needs done.”

“You tried to kill Virgil.”

“I tried to kill all of you.”

“You failed.”

“I’m not yet finished.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Your humour is lacking.”

“I’m not joking.”

“We shall see.”

“No, Kyrano, this ends here.”

And Gordon leapt.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five

Part Six

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #Val Casey #Kyrano #the joker and the hero

[netflixmomma516]

Her Secrets 13 Pt 1 | 13RW Series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

This is Part 1 of 2 Parts of Chapter 13

"Are you packed girl?" Jess asks. "Yes, I'm ready," I tell her for the hundredth time since the start of the day. 

Jeff's hand finds mine under the table, my palms always tingle at the touch. Jess just gives me a smile, knowing Jeff and I are holding hands. I roll my eyes and half smile knowing why she's smiling at me. "Jeff, my dad wants to talk to you before we go," I tell Jeff in more of a whisper so Scott doesn't hear me. Jeff smiles at me with his gorgeous, pearly, white smile. "Of course." He says out loud. I look to Scott and he just looks at me with his big green eyes, his eyes have a sense of sadness in them. We really haven't talked since our kiss last Friday. A little small talk here and there during the first period, but that's it really. I just half smile at him; he does the same. My eyes divert from Scott's to Chloe's, she gives me a dirty look. I roll my eyes at that. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom," I announce to the table. -- I walk out of the stall to see Chloe standing there looking at her reflection in the mirror. "YN, I tried to be your friend, I really did, but now you better stay away from Scott." She threatened. "Or what?" I cross my arms, squaring up to the 'most popular girl' in school. "I'll tell everyone your secret," she whispered. My heart instantly sank into my stomach. She walked out of the bathroom, leaving me standing there looking at my ghostly reflection. I turn sideways. My shirts are becoming a lot tighter on me. I huff and pull myself together and walk out, the bell rings, so I just walk back to class. "So Chloe left the table right after you announced that you were leaving. Weird right?" Jess asks. I have to play it off like she didn't just threaten to tell my biggest secret to the whole group and ruin my life even more than it is. "Yeah very," I respond. "You have no idea how excited I am for this week," Jess says with a smile. I smile back, "me too." In reality, I'm scared to death for this week. Especially since I know Chloe knows my biggest secret. -- "Hey YNN, Jeff's here." My dad yells up the stairs. I quickly pull my sweatshirt over my belly and make sure no one can notice how much weight I've gained. I went to the doctor on Wednesday, I've gained 7 pounds since I moved here, and I'm 16 weeks, which is almost 4 months. Finally out of the sickness stage, now on to hungry, hungry hippo stage. My shorts can barely button anymore. "Coming!" I yell from my bedroom. I smile, "remember bugs, I'm a normal teenager this week." I smile to my bump and rub it. "I love you." I grab my phone and stuff it in the back pocket of my jean shorts. -- "So Jeff, if anything happens you can call me," my dad hands Jeff back his phone. I smile at the two men in front of me. "Look at my dad being all protective of his little girl." I hug my dad. "I'll always be protective." My dad admits. "I'll be fine dad, I'm only an hour away." I smile up at my dad. "I know, go have fun guys, love you YNN." My dad ushers us out of the front door. Jeff has my suitcase in his hand. "Love you too dad." "Bye Jeff." My dad says to Jeff. I instantly smile up at Jeff. "Bye YDN." Jeff smiles and waves back to my dad. Jeff puts my suitcase in the bed of his truck and helps me up in it. "Thanks," I say as he shuts the passenger door. "Alright, Jess and Justin are at Justin's, so let's go get them and then we'll be off to the lake house," Jeff tells me the plan. "Sounds good." I put my hand into Jeff's. Just this little gesture, makes me feel so safe like no one is going to find out my secret this week. -- An hour and a half later, we finally reach the lake house. It's the lake house, that he pointed out to me a month and a half prior. The rest of the group followed us from Justin's house. "So sleeping arrangements?" Justin asks as he puts his arm around Jess. "I was thinking since there are 4 bedrooms, Me, YNN, and Justin in one room..." I instantly cut her off, "um, not trying to be mean but I don't really want to listen to you and Justin all night, every night we are here." Everyone erupts in laughter. "Okay, so how about us girls in one room, and the guys can choose whoever they want to bunk with." I shrug, sounds good, except for the part I'm sleeping in the same room as the girl who threatened me to stay away from her ex. "Okay." We all settle in for the night. -- DREAM I'm sitting on the dock, I look back to see Scott standing there with a smile watching me. "Hi," he said as he took a seat next to me. "Hi," I said back. "YN, can I tell you that I really like you and I will probably never forgive Chloe for what she just did." I look down at my hands. "It's okay Scott, I knew it was going to come out eventually." -- I abruptly sat up, trying to catch my breath. Tears instantly filled my eyes. I look at the clock with my hazy eyes, '6:30'. The sun barely rising over the horizon. My feet hit the hardwood floor beneath me, I shuffle downstairs. I make myself a cup of coffee, and make my way down to the dock. The exact dock where my dream just took place. I look to notice the house still dark, so I take a second to talk to my belly. "Bugs, I'm trying so hard to stay strong and try to be normal, but I don't know if I can do this much longer. I love you so much, maybe I need to come clean, but I'm so scared bugs. The first time since last summer, I feel safe, I feel like I belong. I need this, I need to be normal." I rub my fingers over my ever-growing bump. It's smaller in the morning, so I don't think anyone can tell, but it's getting to the point of my dad told me he can tell I've gotten bigger. I'm so scared to lose my friends. I look back to see if anyone in the house is awake yet, and I see Chloe standing there on the patio. I roll my eyes as my heart rate increases. I really hope she didn't just hear everything I said to my baby. I act like everything is fine, "good morning Chloe," I sip on my coffee as I walk back in the house to see everyone up. "Wow everyone is up early," I comment as I walk into the living room. "We were going out to eat this morning, you want to go?" Jeff asks. "Sure." I shrug as I walk back upstairs to change from my pajamas. I walk into the attached bathroom, I change into some tan shorts, with a white tank top, and a pink jacket. My belly just pudging out a little bit. I'm not changing! -- We all get to this little diner, that we passed on the way up here. They supposedly have the best pancakes in all of California. "Let's see if the sign is right?" I laugh as I sunk into the booth looking at a menu with Jeff right next to me. "So what looks good?" Jeff asks me, "the pancakes, I might get the 4 stacks of blueberry ones." "Dang someone is hungry." I just shrug his comment off. "I can't help it, I'm hungry," I smirk at him. He just shakes his head with his half smirk. I notice a little stumble coming from his cheek, his hair is a little ruffled from the night before. Scott and Chloe's conversation catches everyone's in the group's attention. "Can't you see it? I love you," Chloe's eyes shine with tears, "I have for so long, but you can't see it. You're my best friend, and you can read me so well, but you've been blind to me ever since YN got here. Over and over, you choose YN instead of me." She looks down at her black flip-flops and speaks quietly again, "you have no idea how many 11:11 wishes, shooting star wishes, and just plain wishes I have used on you. Yet you talk about YN to me constantly. Haven't you noticed that I hesitate each time you ask me who I like now? It's because I'm so tempted to just tell you, but I know you won't care." She looks up at him and tried to meet his gaze with her big blue, teary eyes but his green eyes look away. She gets up and runs out of the diner. Everyone looks at Scott and me. I shrink into myself. Jeff's arm finds my waist, "it's okay." He whispered in my hear. I really hope so, Jeff. -- We all arrive back at the house. The guys go out to the lake, me and Jess change into our swimsuits, but I realize my bump is really noticeable, especially since I just ate 4 gigantic blueberry pancakes. So I change back into what I was wearing just without the jacket. "Why aren't you wearing your bikini I picked out?" Jess asked as I walk out in the room. "I just didn't like the way it fits." I lie. I loved the way it fit, I looked so cute with my baby bump, but I didn't want everyone to see my bump. "Oh okay, well I guess I'll just tan by myself," Jess says with a fake sad face. I just smile at my best friend and roll my eyes. "I'll be out there with you," I say. "Okay," she shrugs. "I'll meet you out there," I say as I walk back into the bathroom, I quickly go to the bathroom and make my way outside. My eyes instantly go to Jeff, I've never seen him shirtless before, but oh my, this guy reminds me of like a Greek god. I see Jeff wink and I roll my eyes as I smile at him. He just chuckles and goes back to fishing off the dock. "I'm hungry," I say after a couple hours of being outside and taking a short nap. "We'll start cooking," Jeff says more to the guys. I smile at him. "Thanks, eff," I walk over to him and I kiss his cheek. "I'm surprised you can reach my cheek," eff smirks. "I'm not that short!" I exclaim. - We finish our dinner. "So I'm so glad everyone is here," Chloe stands up from the group. I look at her. I get an uneasy feeling with her actions. "So I have an announcement, well it's not mine but it's YNN's but she wanted me to tell everyone because she's just too scared." I look at her with horror in my eyes. Eyes move from me to Chloe. I feel like I'm going to be sick, I know she's going to tell everyone. Everyone looks back to me confused. "You wonder why she never drinks alcohol, she is always hungry, or she's always tired, or why she's gained weight since she's moved here, it's because she's pregnant." I burst out crying, I started running. I couldn't stop my legs at the moment. My legs feel like they did when my dad told me he was leaving. They won't stop. "Chloe, you're a bitch!" I hear Jessica spit venom at her. My legs can't handle the pressure anymore, and I collapse in the sand, my teary eyes look out to the lake. "YN.." Jess approaches with caution. I look to her with nothing but tears in my eyes, she embraces me and just holds me in the sand. We sit there like that for about 5 minutes. "YNN, you're okay." I look at her trying to calm sobs. "YNN, so what if you're pregnant? You still have me, you'll always have me." "But what about Jeff? Everything is ruined." Jess just smiles at my words, "what?" I question why she is smiling while I'm having a literal breakdown. "It seems like you finally made your choice." I looked at her with a strange look. "What do you mean?" "You only said Jeff's name, you didn't say anything about Scott."

#13 reasons why #13rw #13 reasons why imagine #13 reasons why imagines #jeff atkins #jeff adkins #jeff atkins imagine #jeff adkins imagine #Chloe #jessica davis #scott reed #scott reed imagine

[macarthurmc]

Male Obgyn Gets a Mammogram and How It Made Me A More Compassionate Doctor

A few years ago, I found my own breast mass

As an Obgyn I do breast exams every day, but I never expected to find a mass on myself. When I did, immediate panic set in. Breast cancer is rare in men, but it does happen. The next morning I had one of my partners repeat the exam to confirm the findings. She placed the order for a diagnostic mammogram like we do every day only this time, my name was in the space labeled PATIENT.

I will just sneak in quietly and anonymously

I arrived at the same women’s imaging center where I refer my patients. As I parked my car, that anxiety hit me in the pit of my stomach. Thoughts of “what if” filled my mind. Could it be cancer? What would I do? As I mustered up the courage to walk inside, I felt more than simple fear. I felt vulnerable. I opened the door and scanned the room. I quickly noticed I was the only man, but I was greeted by two of my patients who happened to be in the waiting room. So much for anonymity. As I was checking in, I heard, “Hi Dr. Livingston, it’s nice to see you” from the woman staffing the desk who also happened to be my patient. I am bordering on humiliation at this point. I was then escorted to the back for my mammogram.

It’s tough to stand with dignity in a gown with holes for your breasts

While I removed my shirt it crossed my mind that Poetic Justice was at play. I have ordered thousands of mammograms. Now it was my turn to experience what I ask of my patients. As the technician politely entered the room, I stood tall with an air of false confidence dressed in my hospital scrub pants and a paper top with holes for my breasts. After exchanging small talk, she positioned my breast into a pancake appropriately for the X-Ray. Having heard from patients that mammograms can be painful, I was prepared for discomfort. While there was no physical pain, I confess to an extreme feeling of helplessness standing shirtless, alone in a room with my left breast compressed in a waffle iron. It was over in seconds, and I was able to get dressed.

Our minds take us to dark places

I sat alone in silence, waiting to hear the results. Intellectually, I knew the odds were overwhelming in my favor that the mass was benign. Still, negative possibilities flooded my thoughts. My mind immediately went to cancer. I began to plan my last will and testament. I thought through which breast surgeon I would choose, and who I would go see for chemotherapy. Luckily, the doctor quickly reported the mass was benign. No sign of malignancy and surgery would not be necessary.

Leaving the center, I felt relief and compassion

The experience of getting a mammogram made me a better doctor. True, I will never experience giving birth, menstrual cramps or other gynecologic conditions that I treat. But now I have a better understanding of how women feel when they bravely enter those doors for cancer screening. I also feel compassion for those who exit the doors with unfortunate, life-changing news. I understand the fear and anxiety of going for cancer screening, and now I have a story to share with any patient who is anxious about getting it done. Most importantly, I feel gratitude not just for my results but also for the science and technology available to diagnosis treatable illnesses. Mammograms save lives.  

Thank you to Live Your Life on Purpose for publishing this a article on Medium.

By: Dr. Jeff Livingston

#MacArthur Medical Center

[imaginexwwe]

Fans (SETH ROLLINS)

(ANON) Seth brings his new actress girlfriend with him backstage before Monday Night Raw only to find out a few of his friends/fellow superstars are fans. Seth eventually gets annoyed atvthe attention she's getting (F) LUFF (H) UMOR

•

Warning: NONE

•

Writer's Notes: I did a fic like this one a while ago, but gonna try to make this one as different as possible

•

Y/N let out a playfully dramatic gasp, as she pulled on her boyfriend, Seth Rollins' arm as if she was an overly excited child.

"Please, oh please, do I get to go in there to..?" She questioned with a giggle as the couple stood outside of the men's locker room.

She had just been given her first tour of what it looks like backstage during Monday Night Raw and to her dismay it seemed to be coming to an end after Seth stopped.

"Hell no," Y/N almost instantly heard her boyfriend reply with his famous chuckle. "You never know what you may run into, in there."

"Like shirtless dudes?" She pried, elbowing Seth in his side. "More specifically a shirtless Finn Bal--?"

Seth jokingly shoved his large hand over her face, interrupting her before she could get the last name of one of her favorite wrestlers and her man's opponent for tonight out.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't almost hear that..."

"Oh," Y/N said with a growing smirk. "Okay, I said more specifically a shirtless Fi--"

•

Seth shook his head while giving his girlfriend a look. "Stop." He said, trying to pull off a serious face as he soon turned his head from Y/N and her now smiling face. "And just wait out here while I go grab the shirt I got for you before you arrived."

"What's wrong with my shirt?" He heard her say as she glanced down at the one that was already on her body.

"It's not a Monday Night Rollins shirt." Seth quickly replied as he walked into the locker room to get the shirt, he'd already had packed and tucked away in his luggage for when his girlfriend came.

•

"Now, do I now how to pick a shirt, or what?" Seth asked with a huge smile on his face while Y/N came out of the bathroom in his WWE brand shirt.

"Or what?" Y/N threw back at him with a laugh, as they began walking around backstage again, before stopping shortly after hearing her name being called out.

A short haired blonde came running up the the two of them arms wide opened, but her focus on the female. "Y/N!" Renee called out again, repeating her words of a few seconds ago. "I saw in my Twitter feed that you was in Atlanta but it didn't occur to me, that you'd be here." She said bringing Y/N into a tight hug. "I just shrugged it off thinking you were in the city for a movie role or something."

"Nope." Y/N replied hugging one of her closet friends, and one half of her go to double date buddies, just as tight as she was being hugged. "It's like bring your girlfriend to work day, so Seth let me tag along." She said while flashing a look to Seth, before adding. "Plus you know how he loves the thought of keeping me locked up from--"

In all honesty, Y/N's been wanting to come and see what Seth does live for a long time now but there was so much that always seemed to pile up at the last minute.

Like her unpredictable schedule of filming, refilming scenes that needed to be done over, spontaneous interviews that her manger got her booked for, movie premiers.

Sometimes it was just like she never really got time for the traveling she would love to do with her boyfriend.

And his busy schedule every week didn't help, at all.

"If you say Finn Balor one more time..." Seth said, trying to come off as threatening as possible.

"Ha, I was gonna say Elias this time!" Y/N yelled a little too loud with a giggle, obviously not knowing that the very wrestler was making his was down the hall.

•

"Babe," Seth said trying to quiet his girlfriend as he noticed a fellow superstar a few feet away. "Shh--" He began before a male's voice cut him off.

"I heard my name." Elias said with his guitar slung over his shoulders.

Seth shook his head with a slight laugh before replying to Elias. "That was just my gir--"

•

"Y/N." Elias said with a smile, interrupting her boyfriend. "Big fan." He said with a smile to mirror the one that quickly appeared on her face after seeing a wrestler she's come to love on Monday Night Raw.

"Me too," Y/N said looking at the taller man. "Like you have no idea how big of a fan of yours I am." She added in awe, as she took the opportunity to steal a quick hug. "I'm always joking with Seth about how much you two look alike..." She again spoke, this time ending with a genuine laugh from her, Renee and Elias, and a more forced one from her boyfriend. "He hates it..."

•

Seth stood on the outside of the growing circle of male and female superstars that gathered around to chat with his girlfriend.

"It doesn't even look like you're trying to hide how annoyed you are..." He heard Roman say as he walked up, stopping at Seth's side.

Seth shrugged before mumbling, "They act like they've never seen a movie star."

Roman gave Seth a quick glance before letting out a laugh at how his close friend not only looked annoyed but sounded annoyed too.

But I mean, can you really blame him?

He's been standing outside of this little group, or whatever you could call it having to hear things like, "Oh, I loved your latest movie."

"I can't believe that kissing scene you had with..."

"Ugh, I just wish I could've met Jeff too."

"You are literally one of the reasons I always make time on Mondays for Raw."

"That dress you wore at the premier for ... was so cute."

"I love randomly listening to your theme."

You wouldn't want to deal either, Seth thought silently as if having a mental conversation with himself over what he's been hearing.

"You got five minutes, Seth." A WWE backstage worker said as he casually walked from the crowd after getting an 'autograph for his wife'.

"Yep," Seth mumbled before bring his arms, that were crossed over his chest and taking a few steps ahead, pushing his way into the crowd and over to Y/N. "My match is about to start, so I'm gonna head out to the gorilla." He said sounding less happy than before.

•

Y/N nodded at her boyfriend's words as he began walking off not even waiting for her.

"Text me, Renee." She said with a smile as she gave the more familiar of all the people who had joined the group a last hug for the night, before skipping off to catch up with her boyfriend. "You not gonna wait for me, babe?"

"You seemed pretty occupied with your fans or friends, or whatever, so I didn't think you'd want me to." Seth replied his bitterness coming off childish. "Besides I only have five minutes."

A slight frown took the place of the smile that Y/N's had on her face since she stepped off the plane at the airport to see Seth waiting for her, as she took hold of his hand, trying to get him to look at her.

"Five minutes is enough time for you to tell me what's changed your attitude all of a sudden." She said sorta demanding that he talk to her, without actually telling him to.

•

"I just got a bit annoyed at them crowding around you, that's all."

"But Seth," Y/N replied barely above a whisper. "It wasn't bothering me."

Seth nodded, a serious look on his face and a tone to match in his voice. "But it was bothering me...." He quickly replied. "Y/N I didn't ask you to fly out so that you could get caught up in some fan mess. I asked you to fly out so we can spend some much needed time together."

His eyes met the understanding ones of his girlfriend as she nodded and smiled slightly.

"You're right." She said as if she agreed with his words. "I just got caught up, cause you know how much of a fan I am of so many people here and then to find out they're just as big of fans of me, and actually love and know the movies I've been in..." She paused for a second before her smile returned. "It just felt amazing, but you're right. I came her to support you and spend time with you."

"It's okay," Seth said, his smile making a comeback of its own. "I forgive you." He added while wrapping his arms around the tiny waist of his girlfriend, and leaning down to give her a kiss.

•

"Hold up," Y/N replied, pulling away. "I didn't say sorry." She said giggling.

"Yeah, but I know you were about to," She heard Seth say with a playful smirk. "So I was forgiving you in advance."

•

Just as Y/N opened her mouth for a quick remark, she heard a boom of music and Finn Balor's theme sound off.

•

"Finn's doing his entrance." She squealed as her hands came up to both of her jaws and her mouth dropped. "Babe, where's the room where y'all watch the matches?" Y/N asked, her voice coming off slightly frantic from the sudden excitement.

Seth rolled his eyes. "Really Y/N?" He asked giving her another one of his looks. "After what I'd just said, and after I just forgave you?"

"Babe, I need a tv, cause you're about to go out, and I wanna watch." Y/N said, quickly thinking of something to soothe the situation over before it got out of hand. "I'm Monday Night Rollins as fuck..." She again said while glancing down at her shirt then back a Seth.

•

TAGS:

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[fysebastianstan]

“We used to come into the city a lot when I was a kid,” said Mr. Stan, 35, recalling the years when he lived with his mother and stepfather in Nyack, N.Y., and was a student at Rockland Country Day School. “Especially around the holidays, this was the best place to come.”

As he spoke and glanced quickly at the lunch menu, deciding on salmon tartare and sparkling water, a steady stream of nervous-looking skaters passed by, several tumbling to the ice. At one point, a young girl, swaddled in a bright-pink winter coat, stopped in front of the restaurant window, tightly gripped the railing and burst into tears as her mother gently — and unsuccessfully — tried to lure her back to the ice, Mr. Stan was asked if had skated here.

“I’ve never been ice skating, ever,” he said. “I’m traumatized by the idea of it. Look, see those kids out there, falling. I keep thinking that I’m going to fall, and then someone is going to come by and slash my wrists off with one of their blades. So I’m much happier on the sidelines, as a spectator.”

It’s a surprising admission from someone whose new film, “I, Tonya,” opening later this month, is all about the world of ice skating — in particular, the 1994 Winter Olympics, the toxic rivalry between Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding, and the famous kneecapping incident that sent Ms. Kerrigan to the floor, screaming, “Why me?”

Mr. Stan, perhaps best known to film audiences as Bucky Barnes (a.k.a. the Winter Soldier) in Marvel’s “Captain America” films and the coming “Avengers: Infinity War,” plays Jeff Gillooly, Ms. Harding’s husband at the time and one of the bumbling accomplices in the tabloid-ready crime. (In 1994, Mr. Gillooly was sentenced to two years in jail and fined $100,000 for his role in that incident; he was released in 1995. Ms. Harding was put on probation for three years and banned for life by the United States Skating Association.)

It is not a particularly sympathetic role. In fact, Mr. Stan, in character as Mr. Gillooly, is introduced to the film’s viewers in an early scene in which he looks directly into the camera and says: “At 27 I was the most hated man in America. Maybe the world — with a mustache I still can’t apologize enough for. My name was a verb. Like, if you bash someone in the kneecap, you ‘Gillooly’ them.” (Margot Robbie plays Tonya in the Oscar-buzzy movie, which was directed by Craig Gillespie.)

Was there any trepidation about taking on the role of this somewhat unsavory character, one who is not only a comically inept criminal but is also part of a mutually abusive relationship that the film portrays unflinchingly?

“I’ve gotten really good at not judging characters,” Mr. Stan said. “You have that fear of ‘God, I don’t know if I can do this.’ But the script was intriguing. And regardless of what I thought happened, and what judgments I had about all that, I just had to let it go, and trust the script. My job as an actor is to just tell the story as best I can, from my character’s point of view, and let the audience decide.” There was, however, one person who was puzzled that Mr. Stan had taken this role: Mr. Gillooly.

Shortly before filming began earlier this year, the two met at a restaurant in Portland, Ore., where Mr. Gillooly and Ms. Harding first met and where Mr. Gillooly still lives. As Mr. Stan recalled, “The first thing Jeff said to me, when I sat down, was, ‘Why would anyone want to do this? Who would want to see this thing?’” Mr. Stan’s answer? “I told him it was a really great script.”

Mr. Stan had spent the previous couple of months obsessively researching Mr. Gillooly, finding on YouTube a television interview that Mr. Gillooly had given several years ago, and also listening to the audiotape of a three-hour interview Mr. Gillooly had given to Steven Rogers, the film’s screenwriter. “Steve sent me that tape and I walked around the city over the holidays, listening to Jeff’s voice over and over and over again,” he said.

When the two finally met, Mr. Stan wasn’t particularly interested in probing for more details about the Kerrigan incident, or hearing Mr. Gillooly’s side of the story. Instead, he was looking for biographical details that would help him find his character. “There was an earlier Jeff in the script that I couldn’t find anything on,” Mr. Stan said. “How was he when he was in high school? Who was he back then? What did he want to be? How did he smile? When he got excited, how did he move his hands?”

But he said the face-to-face meeting was a bit unnerving: “I had spent so much time listening to him, and watching him, and now here he was in person. It’s almost like you are doing a double take.”

Next up for Mr. Stan is “Destroyer,” by the director Karyn Kusama, also starring Nicole Kidman and Tatiana Maslany, which he begins filming in January. He has also become something of a fashion world favorite (perhaps a result of him having played a memorably shirtless drifter in the 2013 Broadway revival of “Picnic”). He has been invited to the Public School shows, accompanied Todd Snyder to the CFDA Awards and was profiled in a GQ Style fashion shoot.

On this afternoon, he was wearing a black IRO coat, a dark green Theory T-shirt, black A Gold E jeans and weathered Frye boots that he said were taken from the set of the “Avengers” movie.

Though born in Romania and raised by a single mother in Vienna before she married an American and the family moved to Rockland County, N.Y., Mr. Stan considers himself a New Yorker. His first apartment after graduating from the Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers University in 2005 was a two-bedroom on a grim stretch of West 42nd Street opposite the Port Authority. (“My share was just $800 a month!” he said, almost in wonder.) And he has never left the city since, moving to several different neighborhoods before settling down in his current apartment in SoHo.

He was headed there after the lunch at the Sea Grill, and as he began to gather up his things, he looked out one last time at the rink. At that moment, a middle-aged man in a Canada Goose parka came whizzing by, a look of panic on his face, and then crashed, spread-eagled.

Said Mr. Stan: “That’s exactly why I am not on the ice today.”

#sebastian stan #sebstannews #interviews #long post

[cleoselene]

tagged by @emmaswanned

Nickname: Cleo, bethy, basically things that are not my actual first name lol.  @nyx4 calls me Cookie

Zodiac: Aries

Height: 6′0″

Time: 12:38am

Favorite band: band as in not solo?  Portishead.  The Eagles are up there tho

Song stuck in my head: “Woman Like a Man” by Damien Rice since it’s what’s playing rn

Last movie I saw: Mission Impossible Fallout and I did a really good job of not making embarrassing sounds at Henry Cavill’s aggressive manliness sad;lfkjslk

Last thing I googled: "jeff jarrett mlb t-shirt” lmao I was showing my roommate this Jeff Jarrett t-shirt that totally ripped off the MLB logo and MLB sued him and won

Other blogs: nah

Do I get asks: not often, which is probably for the best because even though it’s never bad I always freak out when I see asks thinking SOMEONE’S FINALLY CALLING ME ON MY BITCHERY which is also why I have anon off lol

Why I chose this username: it’s an internet handle i’ve used since I made my first World of Warcraft character in 2007 and named her this.  Daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra was Cleopatra Selene.  I was really into that HBO show Rome at the time

Average amount of sleep: oh HOO BOY WHAT A QUESTION, MARK.  Before I was a sickly person as an adult I thrived on like 6 hours.  But now that I have MS I need like 10-12 at least.  There are days I will sleep 16 hours.  I don’t even know if I can explain the fatigue.  Like I am so tired all the time and this is honestly the most debilitating symptom.  If I am not consistently getting a LOT of sleep, I am the most chewed up pained frail creature.  When I went to four baseball games in four days a couple years ago I barely made it home the last game.  My family was ready to check me into the ER.  I am next-level tired.

Lucky number: 4 and 14 cause that’s my birthday

What I’m wearing: my nightshirt and underwear

Dream job: this gif explains my dream job:

touching up Henry Cavill’s shirtless torso for his beefcake scenes.  give me this job.

Dream trip: Rome, if I felt I could endure the flight, which I could not.  Realistically there are some ballparks I’d like to see before I die and they are: Camden Yards, PNC Park, Great American Ballpark, SunTrust Park, Rogers Centre, Coors Field.  All for different reasons.  

Favorite food: coconut shrimp

Play any instruments: no, it’s a regret.  I chose to take art and drama instead of an instrument

Eye color: green

Hair color: Brown (i need to go back to being a bottle redhead tho, I see too much grey >_>)

Languages: English.  I took four years of Spanish and 2 of my BFFs speak Spanish and I lived in Miami for three years and Florida for a zillion years and my Spanish is still at “vague understanding.”  I am a failure.

Most iconic song: idk what this means but my favorite song of all time is “I’ll Fall With Your Knife” by Peter Murphy

Random fact: I lost my virginity on a couch my mom bought secondhand from Donald Sutherland

tagging @ravenlights @amothmanintransition @everyonelikedbubbahotep 

#sd;lfkasldfjka the random fact omg i had to be reminded of it #anyway #thanks! #meme

[outfitandtrend]

[ad_1] The first full-fledged Academy Awards ceremony in two years carries on the distinct assertion that certain things are now “back.” Hollywood is back. Live awards show broadcasts are back. Tinseltown drama is back. But if there was one takeaway from even just last night’s Oscars red carpet showing, it’s that the one consistent thing about the last two years—the iron grip of the internet—never left at all.Red carpet pixie Timothée Chalamet, who has grasped the art of drumming up post-show headlines based on his ensembles alone (Converse and sweatpants to the Met Gala!), arrived shirtless except for a sequined, custom-tailored Louis Vuitton jacket from Nicolas Ghesquière’s spring 2022 womenswear collection. The jacket, worn open in the front with lace-rimmed sleeves, showcased an entire arsenal of Cartier jewelry (the Maison named Timmy as an official “Friend of the House” last fall), and was cropped in the back with a scoop high enough to reveal his trousers’ V-shaped split waistband, fastened with an LV-monogrammed tab. It’s a bespoke-y detail that becomes instantly saucy when there’s no shirt underneath to keep tucked in.(The shoe, also LV, was classic Chalamet, who loves a formal boot; real heads may recall his “Venice Haider Ackerman boots,” as fans have dubbed the same well-shod pair he’s worn to the film festival a few years running.)HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA - MARCH 27: Timothée Chalamet attends the 94th Annual Academy Awards at Hollywood and Highland on March 27, 2022 in Hollywood, California. (Photo by Jeff Kravitz/FilmMagic)Jeff KravitzWe saw a lot of skin on the carpet last night, and not in the way we normally do, from Kristen Stewart in sequined Chanel tap shorts to Zendaya in an ultra-cropped Valentino button down. (Did I forget to mention that sex is back, too?) But Chalamet ​​and his stylist Erin Walsh, whom the actor began working with last year during rollouts for his films The French Dispatch and Dune, certainly calculated the look to get the Twitter stans running for the hills. If his impish red carpet smile wasn’t enough, the actor later captioned his post-game Instagram fit pic with a cheeky “​​💅,” while Walsh captioned her own post, “The internet is broken.” While Timmy certainly isn’t the only harbinger of meme-dressing, he’s one of its foremost champions—and, as a 26-year-old from Manhattan, one of the biggest stars who grew up witnessing how hypebeasts dress both online and IRL.For what it’s worth, Timmy was outspokenly stylist-free up until recently; back in 2018, he told Time Out, “I hear about celebrities who have stylists, and that blows my mind. It’s certainly not why I act, but I can wear cool clothes from some of the nicest designers in the world. [So why] am I going to pay someone to figure out what I should be wearing? That’s the fun part.” But surely, with a busier schedule, brand partnerships, and maybe an ever-widening threshold to clear one’s maximum viral potential, collaboration calls. And like clockwork—whether intentionally derivative or not—Timmy’s trendsetting played out almost immediately last night, with fledgling red carpet heavy-hitter Simu Liu slipping off the shirt underneath his lipstick-red Versace suit for the Vanity Fair afterparty. Breezy! [ad_2] Source link