#but today I’m ordering Uber as a treat because fuck this shit

[coffeebanana]

fridge and stove were supposed to be delivered yesterday and now might not come until the 21st 🙃

#kayla rambles #the IKEA lady I talked to was very nice but the stove is out of stock and they have to try and reschedule with the delivery company sdbsjdb #I JUST WANT TO COOK AGAIN 😭 #like. even if I just had the fridge that would be fine I can use my instant pot to cook but sbzhsbshwhs #and like. when I lived in dorms first year of uni I got VERY good at microwave cooking 😂 #sbsbsjzhshz #thank god the wifi should be here today #i need some sanity #anyway catch me living on ramen noodles for the next couple weeks I guess #I’ll buy the juice box sized soy milks. and some other stuff I can make in small portions? #the good thing is the new apartment is like RIGHT BESIDE a grocery store #srsly like a two minute walk #so I can restock as much as needed #but today I’m ordering Uber as a treat because fuck this shit

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

#andy barber #andy barber x y/n #andy barber smut #defending jacob

[writinggarbage007]

The Captain's Assistant

Chapter 1

Steve Rogers x dark! reader, Avengers x dark! Reader

Summary: After 3 years as Cap's assistant and being treated like nothing, you are captured by Hydra and everything changes.

Warnings: swearing, dark themes, abduction, torture, cannon level violence. 18+. If you are not comfortable with these themes don't read.

Will update warnings on each chapter.

Slight AU

You hated your job.

Taking the job of being Captain America's assistant had been a favor from your father's friend, Nick Fury. You had been downsized and couldn't find a job no matter how many resumes you sent. However, you didn't know at the time it would turn into being assistant to everyone but Tony Stark. Too bad, considering you actually liked him.

Leaving work on a Wednesday night at 9pm was typical. Then there was the call after midnight, Wanda and Natasha were drunk and needed a ride home. Haven't these people ever heard of Uber?

Dropping them off at the compound, leaving them with the nice security guard you got halfway home when a text went off. Pulling your piece of crap car to the side of the road you read;

Mr.MetalArm: I'm out of condoms. Can you bring some to my room? 1:14 am

*Eye roll*

You reply with "15 minutes"

Seriously? Driving back you smile at the gate guard, swipe your badge and share an eye roll with the security guard at the door and head to the supply room. Dropping the condoms off to the Winter Soldier as he stood in his boxers and a voice behind him whines "Hurry up, baby". You almost want to tell her he won't even remember her name the next day but you turn and leave. Not even a thank you from Weiner Soldier.

It's after 2 when you finally get home and all you want to do is sleep. Dropping off you wonder how you got here. Taking care of a whole team of Superheroes. Any time you tried to say no to helping the team your boss, Captain Asshole would say "I consider it a favor to me when you help them."

Of course those favors never got returned.

Thursday 5:06 am

Your text alert goes off and you groan. It's only been less than 3 hours since you got home and already they are at it again. Rolling out of bed you ignore the second text alert and make your way to the bathroom to pee. Taking your time, you linger longer than normal washing your hands, splashing cool water on your face.

Finally returning to your bedroom you snatch your phone off your dresser to read your messages.

Captain Asshole: I need you here by 6 to coordinate a mission briefing. 5:06am

Captain Asshole: Please confirm you got my text. 5:08 am

Rolling your eyes you respond with "on my way sir". You've been up for 10 minutes and the rage is already simmering.

Breezing through the front door of the compound, you take a deep breath and walk quickly to the big glass enclosed meeting room. Your arms are loaded down with boxes from the bakery in town. Silently you bless Lucy at the bakery for opening early for you and giving you the treats she had just finished. You owed her a big drink. Of course you ate one while driving to work but no one would count them.

After arranging the pastry and donuts on big trays you set about making coffee in the big urns in the kitchen. As if the smell had summoned him Hawkeye, Clint Barton stumbled into the room giving you an angelic smile when you just sighed and handed him a go cup without him ever speaking a word.

Moving the heavy urns you then grabbed the folder with the mission briefs and headed to the copy room. You didn't read them just assembled the reports into individual folders and laid them out on the table in front of the chairs. When that task was finished it was almost 8. You fussed with the placement of the trays, stacked the go cups, and checked for the creamer each Avenger used and the level of the sugar container.

The elevator dinged and out stepped Nat and Wanda. Both looked no worse for wear after their night out and you sighed. It just wasn't fair.

Next out of the elevator is Captain America, Steve Rogers. Or as you secretly called him Captain Asshole. His little boyfriend Bucky aka the Winter Soldier followed. You called him the Weiner Soldier because he seemed to have a new girl every three weeks like clockwork. How many of them had you had to go down and talk to when he was done with them.

Always sending you with the same excuse. "I just don't want to hurt their feelings."

Right because having your best friend's assistant break up with them for you is so much better. Two of them had to be removed from the property and a third now has a lifetime restraining order against her so she can't be within 100 feet of you. Why? Cause the bitch thought you were keeping her from her true love. The thought of Casey made you glare at Bucky.

No one noticed, as they were all assembling plates with pastry and making coffee.

Cap speaks up and says "Tony should be here shortly so let's get started."

Not a thank you in sight.

As you turn to leave Cap clears his throat and speaks again. "Y/N, I sent you a list of errands I need done."

"On it Cap."you reply with what you are sure he doesn't notice is a condescending smile.

No nap today. Dammit.

As you leave the building and head toward the parking garage Tony Stark steps out having an intense conversation with someone you assume on his phone. He smiles and waves to you and you do the same trudging into the garage.

Of course your car won't start. Heaving a sigh at this crap day you get out, grab your purse and phone and head for the motor pool manager. Explaing the situation wastes more time and he finally hands over the keys to a big SUV.

You check your email to see what the list is and sigh again when you see a second email with a list for the team. The email explains they will be leaving tomorrow and don't have time to pick up their own shit. You just roll your eyes and start the drive to town.

The errands complete you head back to the compound with a taco salad in the passenger seat. It's almost 3pm and you haven't had lunch after running from place to place. Hopefully when you drop off their items, including the shampoo and conditioner you had to drive 40 miles out of the way to get for Natasha, you could eat.

As a truck that looked a lot like a mini tank hit the SUV at a red light you thought to yourself "Today sucks!"

The men in black who drag your battered body from the car and throw you into the mini tank don't say a word. It's been about 30 seconds and you see no one around to help. When they inject you with something that has you floating away you mutter to yourself "Fucking Avengers".

#steve x reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader

[page-doctor-bekker]

Casa de las Flores (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) so... there is no nsfw in here. nothing that wouldn't be allowed in a pg-13 film, which is typically my policy: if i can see it in a pg-13 film, i can write it and put it on my tumblr :) anyways, enjoy. this takes place right after this.

-

-

Casa de las Flores looked small on the outside, a cute storefront with a few burnt out letters and a neon “OPEN” sign on the door, but the quaint look was merely a facade. On the inside, the dining room was large and lively, with a full-service bar and bright decorations. They were seated almost right away, sandwiched between an elderly couple and a family with a toddler and a baby.

“I’m Rosie, I’m going to be taking care of you two today,” The woman smiled, and set the menus down, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Ava glanced over the drink menu, skipping right down to the margaritas section.

“Yeah, can I get a strawberry margarita, frozen?” Ava requested, and Rosie nodded, scribbling down on her pad.

“And for you?”

“Uh…”

Crap, is she paying? Or am I? I should get something cheap, just play it safe… Wait, she said she was going to buy me dinner. She’s definitely paying. God, I don’t want to cost her too much…

“A uh… Err… Sparkling watermelon margarita on the rocks, hold the salt,” She blurted out, and Ava smiled at her, which was totally not helping the nerves.

“I’ll get those right out,” Rosie flipped her pad closed, and left the table.

“Really? No salt?” Ava queried, giving a slight chuckle.

“I always wipe it off when I get the salt,” Sarah admitted, “It just… I don’t know. It’s supposed to enhance the lime or something, but I’m just not into it. The bitterness just ruins the drink for me.”

“Huh,” Ava flipped the page on the menu, “I never knew that about you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I advertise my margarita preferences everywhere I go.”

Ava laughed, “Really? That’s my favorite activity!” She taunted, looking up at the other woman.

“Maybe I should give it a try,” Sarah remarked.

“What are you going to get?” Ava suddenly changed the subject, still flipping through the pages of the laminated menu, “I was looking at that baja grilled fish tacos but…” She winked, “I’m not sure if fish is the right choice on a first date.”

What the fuck. WHAT the fuck. What the FUCK.

Sarah laughed, although the comment took her off guard, “I was thinking of the enchiladas de espinaca, but I haven’t entirely ruled out the al pastor either.”

“Spinach? You’re bolder than I am,” Ava chuckled.

“I’ll only get it if you promise to let me know if I have some on my teeth.”

“Deal.”

A few quiet minutes later, Rosie was back, “How are we doing, ladies? Need another minute?” She asked, as she set the drinks down, “Frozen strawberry margarita, Watermelon margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“I think we’re all set,” Ava raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who nodded.

Enchiladas de espinaca is cheaper.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ladies first,” Ava winked.

“Uh…” Sarah gave a nervous laugh, “I will get the enchiladas de espinaca.”

“Great choice,” Rosie scribbled her order down, “And for you?”

“I will get the steak fajitas with flour tortillas, please,” She closed her menu, “Oh, and can we get a round of Mexican candy shots and a round of tequila shots?”

“Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

“Shots?” Sarah inquired.

“Shots.”

Is she trying to get me drunk? Ava did call an uber to get here, maybe she just wanted a drinking friend…

At the table next to them, the baby started crying. Sarah watched as the mother cooed and shushed, and eventually apologized to her party and left the restaurant with the baby. Ava sipped her drink, before speaking.

“Would you ever have kids?”

Sarah’s heart just about stopped.

She stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know, maybe. I always wanted to be a mom when I was younger,” She smiled, “I even tried to breastfeed my babydolls.”

Ava gave a hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like the lights have just been turned on, and you could finally see in a dark room.

“Didn’t every little girl?” She laughed some more, and Sarah joined in.

Yeah, but little boys didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Ava continued, “Giving birth sounds so painful,” She mused, “I had a pregnancy scare in high school, a false positive from a cheap piece of shit test, and all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah chuckled, “Not even about what you were going to do, how your parents would react?”

“Not even a little bit.”

It was Sarah’s turn to let out a big laugh, imagining the strong, confident surgeon stress over pain, rather than the practical side of a teenage pregnancy.

“How DID your parents find out?”

She snorted, “They didn’t!”

Sarah laughed even harder, and a couple near them turned their heads to stare.

Rosie brought both rounds of shots; The tequila, and whatever a Mexican candy shot was. The tequila shot was a yellow-y caramel color, with salt and a lime on the rim. The Mexican candy shot was a pinkish red shot with what seemed to be Tajin salt around the rim, and a lime as well.

Ava nodded at the shots, “Which first?”

“The pink one,” Sarah reached for it, “What’s in it?” She gave it a sniff.

“It’s watermelon-y,” Ava grinned, “Bottoms up?”

Sarah clinked her shot against Ava’s, and threw it back. The Tajin shocked her taste buds, and the first taste of the actual shot was sweet, like biting into a cool, crisp watermelon on a warm summer day. Almost as soon as she tasted the watermelon, she tasted what seemed like hot sauce, and tart lime juice.

“Ugh, I love those,” Ava dramatically rolled her eyes back, before grinning at Sarah, who gave a smile in return.

“I’m a little scared of the tequila,” Sarah admitted.

“What? Bad night in college?” Ava teased, and Sarah blushed with embarrassment.

“I’ve… Actually never had tequila.”

“So why are you scared? You can wipe the salt off, you know.”

The tequila shot didn’t necessarily disgust her, but she didn’t enjoy it. The salt made her stick her tongue out in disgust, and the alcohol burned on her tongue. She looked up at Ava through watery eyes, and Ava was looking at her with an expression that Sarah couldn’t quite understand.

Ava clapped, and Sarah coughed, and their food arrived. Sarah went tunnel-vision on her food, and Ava’s laughter through their conversations was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. By the time they finished dinner, Sarah was on her third, maybe fourth margarita. Ava coerced her into another tequila shot, and they shared a plate of churros. Sarah had even tried Ava’s, wiping off the salt from her rim.

The bill was well over a hundred dollars, most of it being alcohol, and Ava paid it with eight twenty-dollar bills without a second thought, and dragged Sarah out by the elbow.

“Y’know,” Sarah slurred, “I thought you hated me.”

Ava’s face fell, “I know.”

“I thau’ you’d neva’ talk t’ me again,” She mumbled, leaning into Ava.

“I know.”

“I was so so sad.”

“I know.”

They were quiet. The only sounds were the Chicago streets. The sounds melted together in Sarah’s head, and she felt miles taller than she was, and miles shorter at the same time. She felt like she might float away, like Ava’s arm was the only thing keeping her on Earth. Sarah was a balloon, but Ava was the string.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ava whispered, seeming stone cold sober even though they had had the same amount to drink. Sarah was infatuated with her - Everything she did seemed to make her more and more attractive.

Sarah had half a mind to say no, but nodded eagerly.

“You bought me dinner,” Sarah sighed happily, “You’re so nice to me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mmhmm…” Sarah agreed, “Because surgeons make more than psychiatrists.”

Ava laughed loudly, stumbling a bit herself, “How are you going to pay off all your debt if you buy dinner, miss fresh-out-of-medical-school?”

“Maybe I don’t hate the salt,” Sarah blurted out, ignoring Ava’s joke.

The two walked arm in arm, each of them letting out a giggle every few steps. Ava’s sober front slowly fell, leaving her just as messy as Sarah. They each did their fair share of holding each other up, until the doorsteps of the apartment building Ava lived in.

They stopped.

Ava stared into Sarah’s eyes, as if trying to puncture her soul with an IV needle. Ava had brown eyes - The kind that filled your heart with warmth like you’d just downed a hot cup of coffee between patients - And Sarah knew she had noticed it before, but she couldn’t remember when she realized how beautiful they were.

Ava’s breath, that once smelled like her chapstick and chewing gum, now smelled of strawberry margaritas, tequila shots, and salsa. Her mascara was mildly smeared, not from crying, but from God knows what antics the two had gotten up to. Her teeth were starkly white when she smiled, and made Sarah wonder if they were naturally that white, or if she had treated them to get there.

Ava’s lips made contact with Sarah’s before Sarah even knew they were heading that direction, and she simultaneously tensed her whole body and felt like she was melting to the floor.

Someone’s going to see, someone’s going to see us and hurt me, someone’s going to know-

Ava pulled off with a smack, and smiled coyly, “Wanna head upstairs?”

Sarah nodded, eyes wide. She felt short of breath, and anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Does she mean what I think she means?

She tripped twice heading up the stairs - The elevator was out of order. Ava held on to her, drunk but still more coordinated than Sarah could ever hope to be. Sarah saw stars, and a halo around Ava’s head, convincing her drunk mind that the blonde woman beside her was truly an angel.

When they got to Ava’s apartment, they were kissing before they even closed the door. Ava pushed Sarah against the wall, tearing her jacket off first and then Sarah’s. Somehow, with her eyes closed, she still managed to hang them up on the coat hooks beside their heads.

Ava pulled Sarah’s hair tie out, and tangled her hands in the woman’s curly locks. She needed her lips like she needed oxygen to breathe, and neither of them wanted to let go. Sarah felt things shift between her legs, making her attraction to Ava apparent to her, but even in her intoxicated state she still managed to feel the pang of dysphoria, which made her nauseous. Regardless, she didn’t falter, no matter the discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Sarah breathed out between kisses.

Oh God.

“Honored to be your first,” Ava responded, equally as preoccupied.

Ava rested her hands on Sarah’s waist, hiking her shirt up slightly in the process. She shivered as Ava’s cold hands made contact with her skin, and her southern equipment stirred, making her dysphoric yet again and only contributing to the nausea. At this point, she couldn’t tell if she was truly nauseous from the alcohol, or just so dysphoric and anxious that her stomach couldn’t tell the difference. She powered through, distracting herself in the warmth of Ava’s mouth and the light touch from her fingertips.

Ava creeped up Sarah’s ribcage until she could feel the underwire of her bra, and then slipped her hands under. Sarah was suddenly very aware of her lower regions, her gaff, and how thin her scrubs were. She would be screwed if something slipped out.

Note to self:

Ava kissed down her neck.

Write a good review for this gaff later.

Ava started unbuttoning her shirt, kissing the newly bare areas as she went. Once she reached the bottom, her lips darted back up to her collarbone, sucking a hickey into the sensitive area.

Sarah’s job was to keep breathing, and not let the panic get the better of her.

This is fine. Adults do this. I’m an adult. She doesn’t know, and she wont find out because I won’t let this go that far.

Ava’s lips captured Sarah’s again.

I won’t let this go far enough to be a problem.

Ava’s hands trickled down to the button on her pants, and Sarah took in a sharp breath.

Ava looked up quizzically, “Do you want this?”

Yes, but I can’t.

Sarah didn’t respond, hoping her fear was not evident in her eyes.

The surgeon put one hand on Sarah’s cheek, and relaxed her other hand from her waistband, “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad.”

Sarah nodded, then shook her head, “I- uh, I don’t want to.”

The anxiety in her chest fizzled out as Ava stepped away, and as much as she craved intimacy, Sarah knew this was better. Ava gave her a warm smile, and held out her hand.

Sarah took it, receiving a squeeze from her, “I can get an Uber or a Lyft…”

Ava looked taken aback, “Why? You can stay, you know. You think I’m going to kick a drunk girl out at,” She glanced at her phone, “Eleven o’ clock at night?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, and stood awkwardly for a second, “Uh… Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh! That door right there,” She pointed to a modern white door, with silver fixtures. Sarah stumbled towards the bathroom, and practically fell into the room.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. She slumped down, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she opened the door and hollered, “Ava?!”

“Yes?” The aforementioned woman looked up from the couch, where she was sipping a glass of water and playing a game on her phone.

“Is it okay if I shower?”

“Yeah! Let me get you something to sleep in, I think we’re similar in size.”

Sarah closed the door as Ava got up, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sarah opened it, and Ava handed her a stack of folded clothes, with two towels on the bottom, “I didn’t know if there were any towels in there, so if there are, just leave any extras under the sink.”

Sarah nodded, and Ava gave her a tight-lipped smile, and left.

Sarah closed the door.

It seemed that Sarah was given a bright pink muscle tee, with the words “Cardiac care is a work of heart” in all caps, with an anatomical heart image, and a pair of loose black sweatpants. She rolled her eyes at the shirt, surprised that Ava would own it. It seemed silly.

Sarah stripped, turned the water on as cold as it could go, and jumped in.

-

-

(A/N) thx for reading ! lmk what you thought <3

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #transfemme!sarah #enjoy! #tbh i went through a lot of questioning as to whether i should post this #but i love it too much not to

[brianc521]

Guys Night | Raul Mendes

It’s been a real rough day for you. You’d gotten into a fight with your best friend, and fights like this always leave you feeling a little uneasy. It kind of makes you anxious. You tried to not let that affect your time with Raul. 

He insisted on going out for dinner, which left you with the impression that you were getting an impromptu date night from the one you need most right now. 

It actually ended up turning out to be dinner with all of his friends. Most of his friends don’t like you, you ‘change him’ in their eyes, so you’re subject to their eye rolls and snide comments. You were really upset, keeping it to yourself so you didn’t bother them and their dinner. 

Raul noticed something was up, giving your leg an extra squeeze under the table, giving you a questioning glance but you didn’t want to ruin his night so you shook your head like nothing was wrong. 

“Raul, you see Kaylee yesterday?” Ryan, his best friend from high school asks, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Yeah, with her sister.” Raul nods, looking up from his fries.

At this you look over at him, he failed to mention seeing his ex yesterday. 

“She filled out nicely.” Ryan laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Dude.” Raul shoots a glance at you in warning.

“What? If she can’t chill she can leave.” Ryan shrugs, leaning back in his seat and looking to Evan, the new guy to the group. “Raul used to bang this chick Kaylee in high school. Total looker then, but now?” He whistles, making big gestures with his eyebrows.

Raul sighs, looking down into his lap. All while you’re looking down into your food, suddenly no longer hungry. You’ve seen Kaylee. She’s gorgeous, this skinny brunette. She’s got an ass for days, and her chest? As much as you didn’t want to know, you know it’s real from an overheard conversation between Raul and Ryan. 

It makes you insecure to know he saw her yesterday. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You clear your throat, telling Raul as you stand. He nods, staring at you as you walk away with your head down. He doesn’t like your posture, somethings wrong and he can’t figure out what. 

“Can you cool it with the ex talk?” He spits at Ryan. 

“What? I just asked a simple question?” 

“Ry, you’re being a dick right now. I know it’s guys night, but she had a bad day and I just wanted to be with her so she knows I’m here. I don’t need her hearing you gush about my crazy ex.”

“It’s guys night Raul.”

“Yeah and the next time you bring Leah over should I bring up the fact that you’re drooling over Kaylee? Or should I ask you if you’ve been talking with Sarah? Your crazy ex.” 

At this Ryan straightens up. “Okay, sorry.” 

“I get it’s guys night, but we’re fucking taken Ry. I don’t know about you but I’m proud to be. So please don’t be a dick and fuck it up. For you and for me.” 

The guys all nod and agree to chill out. Raul looks around after a few minutes pass, an unsettling feeling in his gut.

“Give me a minute.” He says, getting up and rushing off towards the bathrooms.

A redheaded girl walks out right as he walks up and he curses himself as he does this.

“Hi, I’m sorry. This is really weird, but was anyone in the bathroom?” He asks awkwardly.

“Excuse me?” She looks at him appalled.

“I know, I know.” He nods. “It’s just my girlfriend was kind of upset when she went to the bathroom and it’s been like 15 minutes. I’m worried about her.” 

“Hair in a messy bun, light jeans and yellow shirt?” She asks, describing you perfectly.

“Mhm.” He nods, relief flooding his system.

“Yeah, she was crying so I helped her clean up and then ordered her an uber. She just left.” 

Raul’s whole face falls, his heart stops beating, and his pale skin goes ghost white. 

“You must be her boyfriend. Listen, it’s a douche move to bring her to guys night when none of the other girls show. It’s an even bigger douche move to see your ex, tell your buddies and not her, and then allow them to brag about her in front of your current.” 

“I wasn’t-”

“I’m gonna tell you this because I think you need the help. All boys are clueless, but you made her feel like shit. She got into a fight with her best friend today, and then she goes out with you thinking it’s gonna be a nice date night, but then she gets that?”

Raul’s drowning at this information. Why didn’t you tell him all that? Why’d you just up and leave?

“She was really feeling bad about herself, so I told her to go home. Because having a breakdown like that is better in the safe walls of your home rather than the stall doors of a restaurant.”

“Thank you.” Raul nods. “And just so you know,” He clears his throat. “I didn’t allow them to talk like that. I ripped them all apart when she got up. I should have said something when she was there but like, I didn’t ‘allow’ them.” 

“I’m not the one you need to explain too.” She says rolling her eyes, pushing past him. 

Raul turns quickly, rushing back over to his chair. He grabs his leather jacket and her box of food. 

“What’s the rush?” Ryan sits up, watching Raul. 

“She left.” He mumbles.

“What?” Ryan breathes out, eyes wide knowing he fucked up.

“She was having a bad day, got into a fight with Racheal and I brought her here to dinner with your dumbass!” He says glaring at Ryan. “Who spent the night going on about my EX! And she left feeling worse than when she arrived.” 

Ryan deflates. “I’m sorry Raul.”

“Good, pay for our food while I chase after her.” 

He goes to rush out but then stops and turns back to his friends. “Look I get that you all think she’s changing me. Newsflash! She is. For the better. I’m growing the fuck up and becoming the man she needs because I want to be her man. So get this through your thick fucking skulls. She’s gonna be by my side for the rest of my life, will you? Up to you. Keep treating her like shit and you won’t be. Simple as that. Now grow the fuck up.” 

With that he rushes for his cycle.

**

“Babygirl, please.” He mutters to himself as he buzzes your apartment again. 

iMessage from Wifey💍: Please go away Raul. I really need to be alone right now.

“No, Baby, don’t.” He pleads to himself as he calls you again. 

“Please Raul.” You sob as you answer.

“Let me in, please Baby. I’m sorry. I brought your food.” He tries. When he doesn’t get anything in reply he keeps going. “I’m sorry Ryan’s an asshole, I can explain it all. But Baby I just want to hold you. I wanna know why you and Rach are fighting, and I wanna help you breathe. I wanna be with you. Please.”

His phone beeps, signaling you hung up on him.

“Fucking-” He starts but stops when the door opens. He races up the stairs, you’re standing with tear stained cheeks in the doorway when he comes bounding up to you. “Come here Gorgeous.” He sighs, running to you. He crashes into you, lifting you up into his arms. “God I’m so sorry Baby.” He breathes into your neck.

You just cry into his shoulder, legs wrapping around his waist as he kicks the door shut behind him. He drops to the couch, you in his lap. He just hugs you tightly, kissing your neck and breathing you in.

“Kaylee and her sister came into the shop yesterday. I hid in the bosses office, letting Ryan do the oil change on her car. He always liked her more than I did anyway. She’s nothing compared to you. You know that.” 

“She’s just perfect.” 

“No, she’s not.” He shakes his head. Pulling back just enough to see your face. “She’s not. You’re fucking perfection. She’s, she’s crazy.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t even know we were dating half the time we were together. I never loved her.” He says caressing your face. “You Babygirl, are the only girl I’ve ever been in love with.” He whispers, smiling softly when you blush. “And I’m so in love with you Baby.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Rach were fighting?” 

“I just, I was feeling off but I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“No, I don’t want to hear that again. You ain’t gonna ruin my night by being upset. I just wanna be there for you. I wanna talk you through it, I wanna hold you through it.” 

“I’m sorry for just leaving like that. I should have at least told you I was leaving.” 

“Wish you would have, you’d have seen me rip the guys apart.” 

“What?” You gasp. 

“Ripped Ryan apart.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “By the way, Ryan and I might be in a fight.” 

“What happened?” You pull back.

He stares at you, amazed by your way of not thinking he’d defend you till his last breath. 

“He was being a dick to you. No one’s gonna treat my girl like that.” 

You blush again, combing your fingers through his curls. “Can we just go to bed, and let this day be over.” 

“Mm yes.” He nods, leaning up to kiss you. “But I’m gonna make your night end on a high note.” He grins, lifting you and taking you off to the bedroom.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes blurb #shawnmendes #shawnmendes imagine #shawnmendes fluff #shawnmendes angst #shawnmendes smut #shawnmendes series #shawnmendes blurb #raul mendes #raul mendes imagine #raul mendes fluff #raul mendes angst #raul mendes smut #raul mendes series #raul mendes blurb #raulmendes #raulmendes imagine #raulmendes fluff #raulmendes angst #raulmendes smut #raulmendes series #raulmendes blurb

[fallingfor-fics]

What We Were- chapter 11: You

not my gif

chapter 10

Warnings: none

Beth POV

"How are you planning on getting home?" He asked looking around and gesturing today the parking lot "I dunno...I was just so mad I didn't think that far ahead. I'm probably just gonna walk" "Damn that's kinda far" "It's only half a mile" "Well I'm gonna walk with you I walked here earlier and I don't want you walking alone by yourself at night who knows what could happen to a fox like you" "You don't have to do that I can take care of myself I'm a boss bitch" I said smiling at him and we slowly started walking "Well that is true" he said laughing. This was amazing seeing him laugh. Seeing him feel things that weren't anger or lust. I was falling and I wasn't sure what I was gonna do.

"You know my apartment is closer if you want we could go there instead have some drinks then I could drive you home if you want" Wait a minute did he just invite me to his apartment for drinks. This can't be real I'm dreaming. Wake me up right freaking now or I'll loose my shit. "I-um s-sure" "Cool it's this way" As we walked it was mainly silent the rest of the way. Just cars passing by and my heels clicking. At one point I stopped because we walked past this thrift store. "Wow" I said putting my hand against the glass and admiring this gorgeous antique pair of earrings. They were rose gold looking teardrop dangle earrings and they sparkles from the street lights.

I saw him realize I stopped and walk back to see what I was looking at. And call me crazy but out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn I saw him admiring me more than the earrings. "Yeah they are..really beautiful" I smiled and looked over seeing he was inches from me. I leaned and little and so did he. So close I couldn't bare it. I just looked into his eyes and he did the same to me. In the moment we connected and I know it and I know he felt something too. We leaned a little closer. It's happening I suddenly forgot everything I ever knew and started panicking so I just closed my eyes and breathed he must have sensed my nervousness. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine and sighed. "Elizabeth" he breathed barely audible. I just stayed silent not sure what was going to happen. "I...I can't. I'm sorry" he said leaning back up and turning to stare at the sky. I wanted to breakdown and cry right there. But I didn't. "It's okay you know? I get it. Cmon let's just get back to your place and then skip drinks and just take me home since we are almost to your apartment anyway." I said maturely and started to walk again "Elizabeth" he sighed sounding frustrated and torn. "I'm really sorry" "Don't be its okay" I said turning and then walking again. He caught up and we walked the rest of the way silently. Nothing but the cool breeze,my heels tapping,and the low hum of cars every once in awhile.

We walked up to his apartment complex things getting awkward a bit. "Don't you want to come in for a second to rest your feet? One drink?" He asked nicely trying to pretend what just happened didn't. Not wanting time argue or do anything to make him cold again I agreed. We proceeded to walk in to his apartment and I sat on his couch taking off my heels. He lit the electric fireplace and went and got bourbon and two glasses with ice. Our drink. I curled my legs under me and sipped the drink and looked around avoiding eye contact. He came and sat down in the chair next to the couch sipping his bourbon and staring at me look around like a shy teenager. "Elizabeth" "Hmm" I said still looking away "Elizabeth. Look at me." I slowly glanced and looked over at him he had put his drink down and was resting on his hand on his knee. "Talk to me" "About?" "Are you really ok? Because you don't seem like it. This aint gonna affect anything right? With the buiz?" "You gotta be fuckin kidding me. Yes Rio. I'm fine and yes the business will be ok since that's all you care about. I don't know if you noticed but I can't really do anything to quit or fuck it up so yeah it's fine" I said angry at this point standing up planning to just leave and get a Uber. "The business will be ok and to save you trouble I'm just gonna order a Uber thanks for the bourbon." I started to walk out He stood up quickly "no no Elizabeth I didn't mean it lik-" "You know your just like fucking Dean except a gang leader and better at hiding being a dick" "Hey! Don't say that! I'm nothing like that scumbag. I would never treat you like that!"he said raising his voice and walking towards me I backed up a little out of fear "oh really? Because your acting like him right now! You know I'm so stupid for a minute I really thought oh he is a good guy he can be sweet and kind like any human but nope it was just all fake to what? Fuck me? Just like dean? Or to make me think things aren't just in my head? Give me a sliver of hope to just take it away? Or were you just gonna fuck me take me home and know that your precious business won't be affected because you have me wrapped around your little finger and your just gonna use me just like dean does and treat me like noth-" "IM NOT FUCKING LIKE HIM ELIZABETH! I CARE ABOUT YOU UNLIKE THAT FUCKING PUSSY YOU MARRIED! I WOULD NEVER DO ANY OF THAT!" He blew up raising his arms in the air every muscle flexed and tense anger fuming in his eyes. He took a breath and still very frustrated continued "I don't like myself around you! I feel things I shouldn't for you! And I'm trying my best to hide it because you can't know! The truth is your way to fucking good for me! I need to keep this mask on so you don't know the truth or else everything is at stake! And yes I care a lot about the business because one slip and I loose everything! My son! My life! Shit!....YOU! And then I have nothing! So excuse me for wanting to fucking watch out for myself!" He let all this out and I just stood there shocked I had never seen him like this. I wanted nothing more than to hold and kiss him and tell him it's ok.

#brio good girls #nbc good girls #rio good girls #goodgirls #Brio #brio smut #briosmut #elizabeth boland #beth x rio #beth boland #beth x rio smut #bethxrio

[karliesbuzzcut]

A Grande Interlude

Intro | part1 | part2 | part3 | part4

Funnily enough, this chapter begins exactly the same way as the last one: Russell is sad about Girl A and moves onto Girl B in order to make a point. He also wants Girl B to produce his music.

Writing songs for women (hoping they’ll touch his pee-pee and make him famous) is classic Russ behaviour. I’m only covering two cases, but he also tried it with Kylie Jenner (‘Win a Date with Kylie Jenner’) and Katy Perry (‘You Won’t Ever Have To Write Another Sad Song’). There’s also a generic song for the Instagram flavour of the week, perfectly titled ‘Right Here, Right Here (You Deserve a Better Life’).

This time, Ariana Grande drew the short straw.

Russ purchased a ticket to one of her concerts in Salt Lake City, as well as a meet&greet pass. Where is he getting all this money? I have no idea — some questions are better left unanswered. Either way, by going through his Quora profile, you can tell some primo wooing was about to take place.

The best part is that, when Russ says “a letter”, he means an entire notebook and one of his songs. 

So he goes to the concert and seems to have the time of his life. He gets a picture with Ariana, which is pretty cool, I guess. And he seems to be genuinely happy, as seen here:

*lets take a second to appreciate the bitter shade thrown at Tay. 

...but there’s something secretly bothering him 👀

By now you’re familiar with Russell’s tactics. He’s that guy on tinder who, if you take more than 10 minutes to answer, will tell you that you’re an ugly slut anyway.

Pst! “Her manager isn’t a nice guy either” 👀 I think we can actually agree on that one, Russ!

Let’s ignore Russ’ violent tendencies and casual racism for a moment. We don’t want to get depressed here. Instead, I think we should take a closer look at Ariana’s face. You know, the face of a medieval executioner or whatever:

🙂

Where’s the black hood and enormous french sword? What the fuck kind of beheading is this, Russell?

But, with this picture as his profile pic, he goes on to rant about how she hugged a random fan and not him. Purposefully ignoring that this “random fan” was a teenager and not a nearly 30 YEAR OLD MAN IN A SUIT, WHO BROUGHT HER FLOWERS EVEN THOUGH THERE WAS A STRICT “NO GIFTS” POLICY. Sit down, Russ.

While that whole post is absolute gold, my favourite part is when he said he isn’t going to sue Ariana, and moments later *spoiler alert* he sues Ariana. I guess he realised that it’s healthier to just be honest with oneself and admit that “yes, I am a shitbag willing to try anything to get a pretty girl to acknowledge my existence.”

As you might’ve expected, it was another small claims court. In Utah. It’s beautiful in a way, I think. Poetic💫.

You might be wondering what he means with “she only felt sorry yesterday because people got hurt”. Well... you’ll be clenching your cute butt at this.

He thought it would be a great idea to post this right after the Manchester Arena bombing. Yes, the one that happened at an Ariana’s concert.

Yep.

His “friends” on Facebook weren’t crazy about that decision either. Which of course made Russ even angrier:

didn’t compliment my suit

didn’t compliment my suit

didn’t compliment my suit

... people died, but she didn’t compliment his suit. I want an Uber to drive me into the fucking sun.

However!! Ultimately, Ariana saw this post and called Russ to apologise.

lol jk

Of course she didn’t: she hired a lawyer. Or someone on her team did. Ariana hasn’t given this man a second thought since she met him.

This lawyer, by the way, is the same one who defended Taylor Swift. Isn’t that marvellous? I imagine him very sexy, I don’t know why. I think I’ve seen a picture of him, and I know that I could easily look him up, but I don’t want to. I’m very attracted to the image I’ve built up in my mind. SHUT UP LET ME HAVE THIS.

Before we get into this trial, please let me tell you this cool thing: so I’m getting most of my information from Kiwi Farms, right? Russell’s thread has, at time of writing, 2600+ pages. Russell is to that community what TTB&co is to us. So obviously, the day of the trial was their Christmas Day. And someone from Utah actually said “I have the day off today, screw it, I deserve a treat” and went to witness the spectacle in person. And wrote it all down. An actual angel from heaven I’m telling you.

That’s the kind of community I hope we develop around here. I want to imagine that if TTB gets sued by Josh or whatever, whoever is closest will travel to the trial and take pictures. Or you know what? Fuck it, we will all travel and make a fan convention of it. We can compliment each other’s suits!

Anyway, back to the topic on hand. You can read the transcript but I’ll give you the tl;dr:

First of all, Russell is late. The judge and Sexy Lawyer both assume he isn’t showing up, and the judge even decides to dismiss the case. But then Russ shows up. He wrote the time wrong on his calendar, and he even tries to show the judge his phone to prove it.

The trial was a mess — a short mess, though. The judge makes such a nice effort to explain the law to Russ. Then he gives him an almost fatherly talk about how you can’t just post whatever toxic shit you like on Social Media. And I absolutely loved it, because this adorable boomer was trying really hard to connect with ~the youth~. My favourite part is the judge trying to describe emojis:

“How do you explain: seven days later, happy happy, emoticon people, what are those, teddy bears? I don’t know. Things.”

That’s me trying to speak The TikTok with the kidz.

... turns out dear Russ had posted on Facebook that “there will be blood!” at the trial. And also that he would kick Sexy Lawyer’s ass 🤷‍♀️. For all of this, Russell apologises — but also he says this:

“I wasn’t associating it with any threat whatsoever. I was saying something stupid. I was being troll-y. I have over 1000 followers on Facebook.”

*none of the screenshots are mine

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 14

Catch up on Chapter 13 here

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

or

Van’s heading out for the night.

Word count: ~8.2k

A/N: content warning for some (pre-discussed) sex where one person is high but the other is sober

Chapter Fourteen August 2019

Van flew in on a Tuesday and is gone by Thursday, back to the U.K. to headline another festival. He promises to be back soon; August is full of sporadic free time between the festivals and radio events, a chance for the boys to recharge in preparation for the second leg of the United States tour that would be commencing in the fall and carry them until the Christmas season. 

On that following Wednesday you’re curled up on your couch, drinking your coffee and scrolling through social media when your screen goes blank. There’s a moment of confusion before it lights up with Van’s call.

“Hey,” You answer hesitantly, expecting this to be some sort of mistake. He never calls this early.

“Hey!” Van sounds cheery and awake, the exact opposite of you at the moment. “You’re up! I timed it right!”

“You what?” You laugh, pulling away to look at the time. He’s called you at 6:15 on the dot. “You planned this?”

“Yeah! I wanted to catch you before you went to work!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, brightening up your mood slightly. You were currently wrestling with the dread in your stomach reminding you of all that would need to be done once you get to the office today. Even your usual avoidance tactic of mindlessly scrolling through social media wasn’t working that well. 

“Good job,” You congratulate him before taking a sip of coffee. “How’s it going with your parents?”

Although Van could have flown back to the States immediately after the festival performances on Saturday and Sunday, he’d decided to spend a few nights at his parent’s place during the week, before coming back to California on Friday. 

“Good,” Van hums, and you hear rustling in the background as he moves around. “They’re out at the shops right now to get stuff for tea.”

“Bet they love having you all to themselves.”

“Oh, they fucking do.” Van’s tone implies he doesn’t quite feel the same. “They’re cornering me every chance they get to give me a talking to.”

You think of the way Van described his parent’s adoration for him, and try to imagine what bone they could possibly have to pick with him. “A talking to? Why?”

“Because I don’t have any little ones!” His voice is high. “They’re asking me about getting married and shit! The farthest I’m looking into the future is January!”

Van had already started to express his excitement for the new year to you, when the band had a couple months of a clear schedule to get into the studio for the fourth album. Knowing his one-track mind when it comes to music, you actually feel sympathy for his parents trying to discuss anything else with him. It was a lost cause.

“Aw,” You coo, “They just want a little Van to hang out with when you’re on tour! Don’t be mean.”

“M’not tryin’ to be,” He sighs. “But I’m not worried about that stuff. I’m trying to get us selling out stadiums.”

A typical Van response. “Yeah,” You hum, feeling pity for him as well. As different as your lives were, the difficulties of being surrounded by family after being away for most of the year were one thing you shared. You know how the incessant questions and demand for every second of your free time gets to your head. 

“Unless you’ve got a little one for me?” Van jokes before lowering his voice. “After last week?”

A startled laugh bursts down the line from you. “No, no,” You assure him quickly, before pausing. “Well, my period hasn’t come yet, so we’ll see.” You’re teasing, of course. It wasn’t due for a couple of days, and you were so religious about your birth control you had no doubts it’d arrive.

“Fingers crossed.”

“Van!”

“That it comes!” Van laughs. “Christ!”

You’re laughing with him, the heavy feelings of dread having been chased away. But if you didn’t get off the couch soon you’d be running late. “I gotta go get ready for work,” You tell him, still grinning.

“Yeah, alright. I just really needed to speak to someone sane,” Van sighs. “Have a good day.”

“I will,” You lie, finishing off the rest of the coffee in your mug with two gulps. “You can text me anytime you need some extra sanity.”

“Keep me in your prayers,” He says dryly. “See you Friday.”

\\

Your period arrives that night, light and pleasantly early. Even without any doubt, Van’s joke had put a niggling sense of worry in the back of your mind, and you were relieved to put it to rest.

Thursday is business as usual, but on Friday your excitement about seeing Van is dampened significantly when you realize you’ve bled through your tampon overnight, rushing to throw your soiled underwear and sheets in the washer before work. Things only get worse from there; the entire day at your desk you’re seized by merciless cramps, accompanied by the constant need for trips to the bathroom. You’d wanted to surprise Van by picking him up at the airport that evening, but instead you let him Uber over, hoping he’s not too disappointed. 

As soon as you hear the knock at your door you launch yourself off of the couch, hurrying to answer it. 

There’s been a post-airplane Van McCann delivered to your porch, complete with all of his luggage. His face lights up as soon as the door swings open.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” You reply as you help him roll his two suitcases into the living room. His backpack has slipped off of the one shoulder it was resting on, and you grab the handle of it, untangling it from his arm. There’s some commotion as Van shrugs his leather jacket off, hanging it neatly on the hooks on the wall next to the door, and shimmies out of his boots, but after that small delay he goes for his usual hug, you two clinging to each other.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up,” You say into the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Van brushes you off as he pulls away. “I wouldn’t wanna deal with the airport after working all day either. I’m here now, right?”

You smile at his optimism. As you grab the television remote, pausing your show and shutting down the TV, Van rolls his two suitcases into the empty guest bedroom before taking his backpack into your room.

“Are you washing the sheets?” He calls from the other room, and you realize that you’d been so caught up in Netflix you’d forgotten to make the bed before Van arrived.

“Yeah!” You call as you head to the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. “They’re done now, though!”

You hear the soft footsteps of Van in his socks as he follows you into the laundry room, prepared to help you carry the dried bedding to your room. 

When you hand Van the rumpled ball of your comforter, he takes a moment to sniff it. “Clean sheets for me? You shouldn’t have!”

You knock the dryer door closed with your foot, trailing behind Van with the sheets. “You wish,” You tease him, dropping the pile of fabric on your bare mattress. “I bled through them, actually.”

You weren’t one to coddle grown men when it comes to the reality of periods, but once the words were out of your mouth you found yourself hoping they didn’t gross Van out too much. 

“Ah.” Van nods in understanding, starting to unravel the fitted sheet. “So no little ones?”

“Will you stop?” You laugh, assisting Van in the task of attempting to get the elastic wrapped around the bed. “If you keep jinxing it I’m going to make you wear a condom again.”

“Consider my lips sealed, then.”

You smile to yourself as you two finish up the bed. It’s amazing how much Van coming over feels so natural; You’ve missed the constant joking, and forgotten how easily you two coexist in the same space. You wonder if it ever gets less exciting to see him after trips; each time it feels like a dream that he’s physically here with you. So far, that sense of wonder hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s only exacerbated the longer you two are friends, not to mention the way he’s always so happy to see you. 

“Does pizza sound good for dinner?” You ask him. You hoped it did, because you had been craving it terribly all day. Also, it was the only thing that sounded even remotely appetizing with the way your hormones were causing chaos in your stomach. Besides ice cream. You wonder if you still had a carton in the freezer, or if Van would be in the mood to go get some at the soft serve place down the road. 

“Pizza sounds great.”

Van does the honors of putting the order in via his app, so that dinner is his treat tonight. You two spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, plunging back into your favorite Netflix show together as you both chow down on your spectacular dinner choice. It occurs to you for the first time tonight that you share a Netflix show with Van; one that neither of you watch when you’re apart. You wonder if there’s even a small chance that he’ll ever see you as more than a friend with benefits. 

\\

You’re awake before Van on Saturday morning, and thankfully haven’t bled onto the sheets. 

Your period is still excessively heavy, and you curse the universe for doing this to you the weekend Van has to be over. There’s plenty of days he isn’t around! Why must you bleed yourself to death the days he is?

It’s one of those mornings that feel like a car stalling, refusing to get moving. You have a cup of coffee, check the news on your phone, like a few instagram posts, and watch some morning talk shows before deciding to nestle back in bed. Van’s still dead to the world as you tuck yourself in, his body wiped from the jet-lag.

The second time you wake up is to a very disoriented Van fumbling around by your nightstand. 

“What are you doing?” You groan, pulling your pillow over your head to try to block out the blaring afternoon sun shining through the cracks in your blinds. You knew it was futile, and you wouldn’t be able to return peacefully to sleep now.

“Charging my phone,” Van’s voice crackles as he speaks. You peek out from the shade of your pillow to see him shove your charger into his phone, setting it on your bedside table next to yours.

“What time is it?” You mumble, regretting it when Van nudges the pillow off of your face.

“Hm?”

“I said what time is it!” You whine, tugging your pillow back into place. Your cramps hadn’t been around while you were having coffee, but they’ve definitely arrived now. Maybe you could just suffocate yourself with the pillow and be done with it.

There’s the soft tap of Van checking your phone screen. “Almost one.”

“Let’s go back to sleep,” You try. Maybe if Van lays down again you could get him to cuddle you.

“I just slept for thirteen hours,” Van snorts. “Come have a cig. Do you have eggs?”

You heave yourself up dramatically, nodding as you wipe the hair out of your face.

“Do you want some eggs and toast? I can fry up some mean breakfast potatoes too if you’ve got some.”

Your stomach growls. “Yeah, I’ve got potatoes.”

You mope to the bathroom before meeting Van in the kitchen. He’s left a cigarette and his lighter on the counter for you, and you take your first puff as he shuffles around in the fridge, his own cigarette already dangling from his mouth. 

“Can you reach up into that cabinet?” You ask as he starts to lay out his ingredients on the counter. You’re grateful you remembered to get a fresh carton of eggs the last time you were at the store. 

Van swings the cabinet open. “Pass me the ibuprofen. No, other bottle,” You instruct him, before he passes over the correct pill bottle. 

“Not feeling well?” He asks, watching you wash your ibuprofen down with a swig of his coffee.

“These cramps are fucking killing me,” You complain as you pass the bottle back, Van tucking it back on its shelf. “They’re not usually this bad.”

Van hums to show he’s listening, but you leave it at that. 

You prep the potatoes while Van makes you both a plate of eggs, peeling and slicing them exactly as Van demands. He didn’t lie about his potato-frying abilities, and soon you’re both seated at the table with heaping piles of fluffy eggs and crispy potatoes, ravenous after sleeping way too late. Neither of you realize you’ve forgotten to make toast until you’re done eating.

Afterwards, you two pass the rest of your afternoon away on the couch, watching television. Van lets you nestle yourself under his arm, cramming your legs into the depths of the couch cushions so that you can press your body against his, your head resting comfortably on his chest. 

When TV starts to get boring Van maneuvers to the YouTube app, determined to show you a few of the band’s performances. He’d only recently become aware how much you really didn’t know about them, and was determined to bring you up to speed. You had tried to stay clueless on purpose; you figured if you went full-on-fangirl, scouring social media for content and insider information, that you’d probably look at the boys in a different light. You liked that you hadn’t been a fan of them when you’d met Van, and that you had no social media persona to compare to the boys you hang out with in the flesh. But you figure there’s no harm in watching a few performances of the setlist you’d already seen three times, especially when Van is so proud to show them to you.

You’re watching on-screen Van belt out Twice when you realize Van’s been texting through the last three songs. Obviously, watching videos of himself is probably not the most entertaining thing in the world for him, but you couldn’t bear for his attention to be elsewhere.

“Stop texting,” You whine, rubbing your cheek against his shirt. 

“Sorry,” Van mumbles, but he still doesn’t put his phone down. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

Despite feeling like hell warmed over, you perk up. “Where?”

“Out to the pub. A couple of mates are in town and want to catch me for some late birthday drinks.”

You sink back into Van’s chest, disappointed. You were hoping Van had been proposing a dinner for just the two of you, like you hadn’t had since the first time he ever took you out. You were craving something romantic like that from him. Why hadn’t you ever gone out on another date? It must be because that’s when he realized he wasn’t interested in you romantically. Sure, you two have had some romantic moments in the comfort of your own homes, but there was something about getting dressed up and going out that felt so much more official and exciting.

“Nah,” You tell him. “I feel like shit.”

“You’ll be okay if I go?”

You rest your chin on his chest, peering up at his concerned face. “Yes! I can even pick you up, if you want.”

At this, Van breaks out into a grin. “You’d do that for me? That’d be ace, actually.”

You push the hair from his face, realizing you’d just agreed to stay up tonight waiting on his call. “Of course,” You assure him, before pressing your cheek back into his shirt. “But if I’m gonna have to wait up then let me sleep on you until you’ve got to get ready.”

You hear Van set his phone down on the coffee table. “What about a li’l kip? Throw that blanket over us, will ya?”

You unravel the blanket in question, draping it over both of your bodies as you two wiggle into a comfortable position. Van is warm and soft, and the sound of his breathing creates the perfect conditions for you to doze off almost immediately. 

\\

You both wake up to the alarm Van’s set, your domestic bliss ruined by Van needing to get ready for the bar. You stay slumped on the couch, watching in amusement as he hauls one of his suitcases out of the guest bedroom, rifling through it for his toothbrush and the least wrinkled button up he’d packed. He’s such a chaotic, last-minute type of person, and there’s something about getting to enjoy the show without actually having to get yourself ready that cheers you up. 

Van is blow drying his hair into his typical waves when you shift on the couch and swear you feel the familiar warmth of your tampon leaking.

You try to hold still. Van will be leaving soon, and you can worry about it then. But then you cringe as you feel the sensation again, and then you remember you’re not wearing a liner right now, and you stand up from the couch.

“Hey, can I steal the bathroom for a sec?” You ask, hesitant to disturb Van. He’s got shaving cream on his face, and he looks at you in disbelief.

“Right this second?” He asks, but his tone lets you know it’s a trick question. He’s rushing to run the razor over his jaw, and you cringe, expecting him to cut himself moving that quickly.

“I just need it really quick,” You plead, dreading the surprise that awaits when you pull down your underwear.

“Y/N,” Van huffs. He hasn’t even looked over at your reflection standing in the doorway, too focused on shaving. “I’m in the middle of having a shave and I’m gonna be late! I don’t care if you take a fucking shit in front of me! Have at it!”

“Okay, oh my God, fine!” You snap, stomping behind Van to the toilet. You tried to be polite, but if he was going to be a jerk, why even bother? 

You yank down your underwear, and predictably they’re soiled with a nice-sized red inkblot where your tampon had leaked. You kick off your sweatpants in order to get your underwear off. Guess you’d be doing a load of laundry tonight while you waited on Van. 

You tug your tampon out, which is horrifically, overly full. You’ve got to dispose of it in your bathroom trash, which you keep in the cupboard under the sink, which Van is currently blocking as he stands in front of the sink. 

“Can you move?” You snarl, still annoyed with him for not giving you privacy. His head jerks down to look at you, and you can see the anger flash through his eyes at your words. Just as he’s opening his mouth, no doubt to chew you out, you see his eyes dart to the tampon precariously dangling between your fingertips, stained and dripping onto the toilet seat. 

He shuts his mouth and steps back, allowing you to open the cupboard with one hand and dispose of the tampon in the other. You scowl as you wipe yourself and insert a new tampon before snatching your underwear and sweats, marching out of the bathroom pantsless. 

You immediately treat your underwear with stain remover, throwing them directly into the washer. Then you storm room to room, looking for other articles of clothing to wash with it. You weren’t going to go through all this hassle over one fucking item of clothing. 

But even after emptying your bedroom hamper and throwing the kitchen hand towels in for the sake of it, there’s still only enough clothes to coat the metal bottom of the barrel. You decide to go through Van’s suitcase sitting out on the living room floor. You angrily sniff each stupid button up and matching black shirt, throwing them with all of your might towards the kitchen so they’d be easier to get into the laundry room. Why was this entire suitcase full of identical clothes? Why didn’t he ever wear any fucking color except black or navy blue? At this rate he might as well just keep two of the same outfit and rotate through them!

With his dirty jeans, socks, shirts and underwear, there’s finally enough things to consider starting the washer worthwhile. You’re still upset, pouring fabric softener over Van’s clothes at the top of the pile as if you’re dousing them with gasoline, and slamming the lid shut with a loud metal echo as you get the water running. Then you head into your bedroom, get some fresh pants on, and resume your spot on the couch.

Van is so fucking annoying!!! You immediately send to Mary.

You wait for her to respond before you send her the scalding paragraph explaining the situation that you’ve already started mentally drafting. In the meantime you flick through other apps, angry at everyone living their perfect little lives on instagram, and tweeting about their perfect little significant others on twitter. 

But the longer you sit there, the more your anger starts to fade. You think back to Van’s face when you bitched at him, and how he didn’t even react. He hadn’t even been that rude, now that you reflect on the situation. He was only in a rush. Soon you’re left with just a cold pit in your stomach, and the embarrassment of realizing you’d completely overreacted.

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van snorts at your words, tugging you in. “I should’ve just stepped out for a sec.”

“You were in a rush,” You excuse him tearfully. Why are you on the verge of crying? You realize you sound pathetic, but there’s nothing you can do about it. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I feel really bad.”

Van gives you a soft smile, before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’re forgiven.”

“I hope I am. I’ve got all your dirty clothes from your suitcase in the washer.”

“Oh, you’re definitely forgiven now,” Van grins. There’s the shine of headlights against the blinds, and Van peeks out again. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll call ya!”

And with that he’s bouncing out of the front door, and the countdown starts until you’ve got to go retrieve him from whatever state he drinks himself into. 

\\

You can’t doze off. You’ve just gotta stay busy. That’s your mantra as the hours pass. You finish up the load of laundry, you clean the bathroom that Van’s ripped through like a tornado, and then you get engrossed in the book you’re reading. It’s tempting to think that you’ll wake up to your ringtone if you turn your phone up, but you know better. Once you’re out for the night you sleep like a rock. 

At one A.M. your contacts are dried out for the day, and you exchange them for your glasses. At two you have to force yourself to sit upright on the couch, because sprawling out is making your body feel too warm and heavy. And at three you decide to step out onto the porch and have a cigarette for some fresh air.

Your phone is wedged in the crack of the couch, and as soon as you’re in from your cigarette you check your notifications. In the few minutes you were away from your phone there’s now one new notification, a missed call from Van. Before you can return the call, your phone is ringing again.

“You ready?” You greet him. You feel more awake, a fresh bolt of excitement shooting through you at the fact you’re going to see him again, and get to sleep next to him tonight. 

“I am,” Van confirms. “I thought you fell asleep.”

There’s a slur around the edges of his words, and you’re excited to get to converse with drunk Van tonight, even though he’s not so different from sober Van. 

“Nope! Just having a cigarette. Where am I going?”

There’s some commotion on the end of the line as you listen to Van ask another person where he’s at, but then he’s able to give you someone’s address. Apparently someone had decided to keep the night going at one of their houses rather than head to another bar.

There’s never a time that L.A. is fully asleep, but if you had to pick a good time to be on the road it would be now, at three in the morning. The traffic is minimal, and although you struggle to find Van’s friend’s place amidst the subdivision of identical homes, eventually Van steps outside and you see his lanky silhouette stumbling down the driveway a few houses down the street. You pull forward and he climbs into the front passenger seat.

“Have fun?” You ask, as Van buckles himself in.

“Yeah,” Van nods. His voice sounds a bit dreamy, like his head’s in the clouds. “It was nice catching up with them.”

The ‘them’ in question were a few other indie artists signed to the same label as Catfish. Van mumbles for a bit about their conversations and a new single they had played him that was supposed to impact radio in the next week or so. You’re not listening too intently, humming along in response as you get back on the main roads.

You suddenly spot the bright golden arches of a McDonald’s sign, and your stomach growls. You know if you don’t have a late night snack now, your stomach would never let you sleep. 

“Hungry?” You ask as you start to turn into the drive thru. Whether or not Van wanted something, you were definitely getting some fries. And maybe a McChicken, come to think of it.

“No, I’m fine,” Van says, tapping away at his phone. He was texting someone, his fingers composing a message at rapid speed before you watch the bubble slide up as he sends it. Who the hell was he texting this late?

“Who are you texting?” You ask as soon as you’re done placing your order at the window. You keep your voice light, hoping to seem conversational rather than nosy.

“Um, Bond.” Van tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, was he out with you guys?” 

“No. I just wanted to send him a quick note about a riff before I forgot.”

You roll your eyes to yourself, even if you feel a swell of affection for him. Van McCann, classic workaholic even when he’s drunk.

“Can we turn the air up?” Van sighs suddenly, shifting around in his seat. “It’s sweltering.”

There’s a breeze flowing through your open window that’s giving your arms goosebumps, but you suppose it probably feels humid for Van since his window is closed. “Yeah, turn it up.”

You don’t expect him to crank the knob to the highest setting, sending ice cold air blasting through the vents. 

You leave the air conditioning alone as you pull forward to get your bag of food, but as soon as your window is closed the cabin of the car is freezing. You click the knob back a few settings, so a snowstorm is no longer roaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” Van huffs, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m dying!”

“I’m dying!” You protest, “You’re trying to freeze me out!”

“Freeze you out?” Van argues, “You’ve basically got it on heat!”

You look over at him in utter confusion. The temperature setting was set to coldest and the vents were blowing at a higher setting than you ever bothered to use. In the glow of the red light you were currently stopped at, you could see that Van was very visibly sweating.

As you continue the route back to your house, Van goes so far as to undo all his buttons, tugging his shirt off of his shoulders so that he was sitting there in only his black t-shirt. So dramatic. 

“Can I have some chips?” Van asks, but without further ado he’s pulled a few fries from the brown bag with his fingertips, chowing down. You sigh, but let him get away with it.

When he goes to take another handful, you reach over without looking, snatching the bag from his lap. “You said you didn’t want anything!”

“I don’t! They just smell good!”

The road is empty, so you glance over at Van in frustration. He’s staring at you in annoyance, wide eyed like he doesn’t see a problem with him helping himself to your food. Maybe you wouldn’t notice on someone with darker colored eyes, but immediately you’re startled to see there’s almost no blue to his irises. 

It all clicks together in your head suddenly. “Are you high?”

Van’s jaw hangs open slightly, but he doesn’t dispute it. The overheating, the dilated pupils, being an absolute spaz texting Bondy about guitar solos in the middle of the night. All of the signs are there. 

“You took ecstasy, didn’t you?” You grin in delight at having figured it out, poking at his chest. His body is radiating heat. “You did! Admit it!”

“I didn’t lie!” Van crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat as he offers you a lopsided grin. “I never said I didn’t!”

You pull onto your street, Van trailing behind you as you head into the house with your bag of food, not trusting him with it. “Well, you can stay up all night, but I’m going to bed.”

“M’not gonna be up all night,” Van tells you, but he’s vibrating with energy as he sits down on the couch next to you.

You tug your McChicken out of the bag, unwrapping it immediately so you can take the first bite. You only shrug. Although you had occasionally been around others who were on molly, Van was the only one of you two with first-person experience.

“Hey,” Van says suddenly. “You’re wearing your glasses.”

“I am.” He’s seen you in them on rare occasions, but tonight he’s looking at you intently like he’s seeing them for the first time.

“You look hot,” He says finally. 

You almost choke on the fry you’re swallowing. “Yeah right. Shut up.”

“You do! Like a sexy secretary.”

You roll your eyes, not justifying him with a response. There was a distinct difference between a secretary in a revealing button up and a short skirt, and you sitting there on your couch in one of Van’s crewnecks you’d stolen on a night you’d stayed over and baggy, shapeless sweatpants. But if Van was high enough to confuse the two, more power to him.

“I’m going to bed,” You announce after you’d finished off your McChicken. There’s a handful of fries left in the red cardboard packaging, and you shake them at Van in offering. He takes them gratefully.

“Not without me,” He says with his mouth full, inhaling your leftover fries and standing up from the couch with you. You gather up all of your trash, piling it in the bag before heading to the kitchen to throw it out. 

Van follows you into the bedroom, and you startle when his fingers sneak under the hem of your crewneck. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh, elbowing him as he brings his hands to your stomach, pulling you backwards into his chest. “Let me get ready for bed!”

The more you struggle against him the tighter he holds you, his fingers trailing up your ribs and to your chest. You continue to attempt to fight him off, giggling the entire time.

“Don’t you try to sneak second base,” You tease, his hands coming back out of your sweatshirt, although he still wraps his arms around your middle, his nose coming into your hair.

“You’re soft,” He whines, running his hands up and down your front over your clothes. “And you smell good.”

“If you wanna cuddle me, get in bed.” You finally shake yourself free of his embrace, shedding your borrowed sweatshirt and heading for the dresser to grab a sleep shirt. Van isn’t discreet with the way he’s staring at your topless figure, practically drooling as he peels away his own shirt and undoes his belt. 

Climbing into bed after your long night waiting for Van feels like heaven, and you’re relieved to fold up your glasses and perch them on your bedside table, the true mark of a day ending. 

Van climbs in beside you, and you click the lamp off, the room going pitch black. You flip on your side so that you’re facing Van. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, the streetlights glowing through the window and barely illuminating his face.

“Can I have that cuddle now?” He asks quietly, and you laugh, wiggling closer to him as a yes.

You expect him to wrap his arm around you, but instead his fingers sneak right back under your shirt, before he slides his palm against the small of your back, rubbing up and down. You close your eyes, soothed by the sweep of his hand, before you feel his hair tickling your nose and his lips on your neck.

“Van,” You huff in surprise. “That’s not cuddling!”

“Sure it is.” You can hear the laughter in Van’s voice as he resumes kissing up and down the line of your neck. It feels pretty fucking good, so you close your eyes and relax against your pillow.

“It’s not,” You still reply, not willing to let him have the last word. “But you’re lucky you’re good with your mouth.”

Van moans against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you,” He confesses as he stops kissing your neck in favor of joining your lips. As he licks into your mouth he starts to maneuver you onto your back, his hand now rubbing your side as he starts to hover over you. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

His words send a shiver up your spine, even though you’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to. The kissing? Your skin? He’s kissing you with more urgency now, and your hand comes up to his cheek. His skin is smooth and soft from his shave, and you swipe your thumb back and forth.

“Oh shit, that feels so good,” Van groans, and you feel it right in the depths of your belly. 

“This?” You ask, swiping your thumb again. 

“Yeah,” Van pants, kissing you harder. “Just touch me. Touch me everywhere, fuck.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement to get your hands on him. Your hands roam all over, scratching his scalp, the back of his neck, his shoulders. You feel him break out in goosebumps as you trace your fingertips against the bumps of his spine. 

“Don’t stop,” Van pleads when you pause, lost in the kissing for a moment. You think back to that conversation you’d had on the patio about how much he liked taking ecstasy. You hadn’t realized he enjoyed it this much.

“Are you gonna come?” You can’t help but ask, because you realize now he wasn’t kidding about simple touches putting him on the verge. He was still in his briefs, but he was clearly rock hard.

“Fuck if I know. It feels like I already have,” Van nuzzles against your chest, practically purring when you put your hands in his hair again. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

You laugh in surprise at his words. “Is it really that good?”

Van swears again as you give the back of his neck and gentle squeeze, and you take that as a yes. 

“Let me fuck you,” Van pleads, sitting up so he can look directly into your eyes. He’s clearly out of his mind with desire. “Please.”

“You won’t last,” You joke, stroking your thumb over one of his nipples. He shudders helplessly.

“Don’t I know it,” He laughs at himself. “But you’re so fit. Please.”

“I dunno.” Your hesitation looks like it’s causing Van an excruciating amount of pain. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“We’ve talked about it when I had my head on right,” Van begs, watching as you trail one single finger up and down his stomach and chest. “Plus, you’re my best friend.”

He must be extraordinarily high if he’s slipped on his favorite British slang of best mate. You can tell that waiting for your word is intensely tortuous for him.

“Uh, no to fucking,” Comes your ultimate decision, realizing that’d be logistically hard to navigate with your period and a hazy Van. “But lay down. And get your underwear off.”

Van scrambles to do as you say, all of his limbs vibrating with need. When you climb down between his legs, nudging his thighs open, you feel them try to close instinctively. 

“Don’t smother me,” You warn him, but your voice is lacking any actual threat. Van pants as you press his knees open, and after a moment’s consideration you sneak your fingers underneath them. It’s a sensitive spot for him on a regular day, but he jumps out of his skin at your gentle touch tonight. God, ecstasy-high Van was so fun to explore. Even in the extremely low light of the room you can see how badly his dick is craving to be touched, flushed and curved against his lower belly and shiny with precome. 

You knew that foreplay wasn’t an option here, so with one calculated motion you’ve pulled Van’s foreskin back with a flick of your wrist, wrapping your mouth around his dick and swiping your tongue over the ridge of his head as he cries out. 

He’s shuddering against the sheets like any moment might be the last, and you know that there’s no way he can give you an accurate warning in his current state. You lap up each spurt of precome, the hand not holding his dick in place reaching down to touch his balls. You decide not to give them their usual attention this time, instead sneaking your fingertips underneath them, and up towards the base. Maybe Van’s never been touched here, or maybe he’s just enjoying it to the extreme, but his dick twitches inside of your mouth, his toes curling. 

When you feel you’ve given him a decent amount of head, surprised he’s held off like he has, you pull back, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. You wipe your mouth dry with the back of your hand before wrapping a palm around Van, jerking him off quickly. You retract your fingertips from behind Van’s balls, instead running your nails up and down his inner thigh.

With a gasp he starts to come, and you continue to jerk him off as he comes onto his stomach in heavy spatters, his whole body contracting through his orgasm. You’re careful not to release him prematurely, jerking him off until he’s cringing with sensitivity, writhing away from your touch. 

You lean your torso off of the bed, snatching Van’s shirt from the floor. You wipe him off with careful strokes, soiling his shirt with every last drop. You offer him a clean corner of the fabric so that he can wipe the sweat off of his face.

“Are you good?” You ask once he’s tossed the shirt back onto the floor, and he furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this fucking good in my entire life,” He insists. 

You grin at the compliment, poking at his hip. “I mean, are you overheating? Do you need some water or, like, ice or something?”

“I think I’m alright. I’ll grab some water after I piss.”

While Van heads to the bathroom you stumble around in your dark kitchen, preparing him a glass of water. You hear him groan from the bathroom, the door hanging open.

“Even pissing feels incredible,” He tells you when he comes out. You pass him the ice water as you take your turn, laughing as you do. 

Your body feels like a block of lead as you climb back under the covers this time, actually ready to sleep. The only thing preventing that from happening was Van sitting upright smoking a cigarette, lamplight beaming into your eyes.

“Have a fag,” He tells you. “Get ready for round two.”

“Round two?” You sputter, shaking your head. “You fucking wish!”

“I meant for you!” Van laughs. He kindly offers his cigarette out to you, and you prop yourself up on one elbow to steal a quick drag. “Gotta make sure you get off, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman,” You joke, nestling back under the sheets. “But I’m going to sleep.”

“No fair. Even for head?”

“I’m on my period,” You remind him, rolling over so the lightbulb wasn’t shining in your eyes. “I already told you you’d be up all night alone.”

Van sighs. You doze off immediately, only to be woken up an indeterminable amount of time later to Van clicking the light off, and leaving the bedroom after grabbing your guitar.

\\

You’re up around ten the next morning, feeling amazingly refreshed after sleeping like the dead. Van, on the other hand, is sitting on the couch, puffing through a cigarette, looking considerably less refreshed.

“Morning!” You quip cheerfully just to piss him off. It works. He offers you a death glare. “Write any good songs?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we’ll see what the lads think.” He trails after you into the kitchen, where there’s a pot of coffee already brewed and partially gone.

You marvel at the sort of friendship the band has. You didn’t think anybody could pay you enough to write songs on drugs and then present them to your coworkers. But then again, maybe it was worse when they were sober songs that Van had really poured his heart into. 

“Having fun on your comedown?”

“I’m crawling out of my fucking skin. Not to mention the hangover.”

“Can’t sleep it off?”

“Not yet,” Van sighs. He’s got deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his cigarette is trembling where he’s holding it between his fingers so he can take a sip of black coffee from the mug he’d just refilled. “But once my head shuts up, I will.”

You understand the terror of intense anxiety and panic attacks, and that’s without any drugs. Watching Van’s hyperactivity transmute to panic is hard to watch. You’ve never seen happy-go-lucky Van less like himself. You feel bad now for teasing him.

“Do you wanna try? I can lay back down with you,” You offer out of pity. He shakes his head.

You finish up your coffee before getting the water running for a shower. Mary was making a trip to Costco today, and since you didn’t have a membership you were planning to go with her this afternoon. 

“Can I get in with you?” Van calls from the living room.

“Yeah!” You yell so that he can hear you, your voice echoing against the tile as you start to strip.

When Van comes in his eyes wander up and down over your body. “Is it still your time of the month?” He asks, smiling weakly.

“Unfortunately,” You sigh, tugging your tampon out right in front of him. Clearly as of yesterday you two were at this level of familiarity. You realize he’s still smiling. “Why?”

“Gotta return the favor, remember?” He reminds you as his own clothes start to litter the bathroom floor.

You haven’t been in the mood lately, too frustrated with the bloating and the cramps and the bleeding to feel even slightly attractive, but something about Van always pushes those worries aside.

“Hm, I guess you do,” You singsong as you step behind your shower curtain into the warm spray of water. “But you better hurry, I gotta go to Costco with Mary.”

Van is incredibly efficient, bending you over so that he can fuck you while also sneaking a hand around to keep warm, wet circles over your clit. As much as you usually despise doggy style there’s something perfect about it today, the water pounding down on the small of your back while you brace yourself against the tile with your forearms, struggling not to slip as Van thrusts into you. You’re deliciously sensitive because of your period, and after only a few minutes of Van’s concentrated attention with his fingertips you’re groaning through your orgasm, your knees trembling as Van’s fingers continue to move against you. 

Van pulls out, jerking himself off until you feel him come on the swell of your ass. Then his waterlogged palm flushes water over your skin, carefully cleaning himself off of you.

“That was very pornstar of you,” You tease breathlessly when you’ve stood up straight, soaking the rest of your scalp so you can finally wash your hair.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Van admits sheepishly. “Thought now would be the perfect time.” 

You wonder if he means he’s always wanted to do that to you, or if he’s never done it in general. But then you remember that you’re the only one that’s ever fucked him while he was on ecstasy, and decide to be happy with that win regardless.

After sex and a shower Van is looking a little more normal. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat, a welcome change from the pallor of his complexion when you’d greeted him this morning. He’s looking a little more content, a little less like a walking panic attack, and after he changes into some clothes he hasn’t sweat through you convince him to try getting into bed.

He’s a grown man, and doesn’t need you to oversee his nap, but that doesn’t stop you from following him into your room, and getting into bed with him. It would be perfect if you could calm him down enough to sleep in the next half hour, so that you could get ready and go shopping without having to worry. 

You sit up against your headboard and nudge his head into your lap, playing with his damp hair while he tries to settle in.

“Are you mad?” He asks, his voice muffled against your thigh.

“Mad about what?” You giggle softly, rolling your eyes.

“Have I ruined your Sunday?”

“No!” You scoff. “If anything, you just made it a lot better.”

Van grins against you at that. “You’re my best mate.”

“I know.” You sigh, half from fondness and half from the desire to be more. “You’re mine, too.”

“Don’t forget about me when I’m touring next month.”

“I could never,” You laugh, ruffling his hair in punishment. “I know you’ll come by when you can.”

Van relaxes against you, some of the demons in his head clearly appeased at your words. You wonder what other anxieties are swirling around there, if he ever has to worry about finances or forgetting to mail something or whether or not he left damp clothes in the washer or the stove on at home. It feels like he sails through life unhindered by such tedious worries, but now you’ve seen first hand he has them like everyone else. He worries about burdening others with his hangovers, and being replaced by his best friend while he’s working. 

Slept in way too late, you lie to Mary after picking up your phone from the nightstand. I’ll go with you next week!

You’re grateful last night you left your book on the nightstand instead of putting it away on the shelf, your glasses and book perfectly within reach without you having to disturb Van. This was a way better way to spend your Sunday rather than pacing through crowded aisles in a warehouse. You hold your book with one hand, still fussing with the ends of Van’s hair with the other, and enjoy your last day of the weekend. 

\\

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #catb #catb fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van mccann fic

[diaryofanoverthinkersposts]

More thoughts about death

3.28.2021

I’m weirdly happy right now... though I was sad two seconds ago. 

To update ya’ll; my mom wasn’t mad about the car. She said we were gonna take it into the shop anyway and I guess this way we actually got it there. 

Today was interesting. I didn’t sleep much because of the anxiety of having to handle my car situation the next day. I got up at like 7am and walked over to the gas station, called AAA, and waited four hours until they came. Literally no repair shop was open, so we just dropped off the car and I went home. I’ll have to call them tomorrow to explain the situation. Which is stressful. 

What’s more stressful is the fact that I don’t have food for myself or Delilah cause I’m unemployed and my unemployment hasn’t cleared. I called my grandma and I forgot that I haven’t even told her I got fired. If she knew the circumstances behind it she would literally have a heart attack. She wouldn’t be able to handle how awfully they treated me. 

She has a lot going on right now... my mom told me they found out she has breast cancer, but my grandma didn’t say anything to me about it on the phone. She probably just doesn’t wanna stress me out, but it’s fucking scary. My grandma basically raised me. I already lost both my cats, I can’t lose her too.

I know it sounds fucked up to compare the death of your pets to the death of your grandma, but you need to understand I don’t have that much family. I have my mom, my two brother, my grandma, and my cats. Now my cats are gone, and my grandma is pending. 

I don’t wanna think about that right now. This is suppose to be a happy week for me - my birthday is coming up, and Kat and I spent some time on the phone today talking about who to invite to our joint birthday party. It’s gonna be really fun but I hope all the people get along well... ya know? We’re all mid-20s and none of us are social. 

It’s crazy. I flipped to being sad again. I don’t usually mood swing this fast. I think thinking about the death of those around me can really damper a mood. Also, my uber eats order was canceled, and I waited two hours for that shit. 

#emotions #overthinking #overthinker #train of thought #thought #thoughts #writers on tumblr #writing #writerscommunity #free write #adhd #advice #existential dread #depression #death #pet death #deep thoughts #deep #cant sleeeeeep #anxious #anxiety #musician #balance #eating disoder mention #eating disoder recovery

[primedirection]

The Difference

This is the final part of the series I hope y'all like it! Either way let me know. Fair warning though this is long.

You're somewhat of a hurricane once returning home and getting past the barrier of the door. Sweeping up and through everything you think you might need. Clothes, electronics, toiletries and more tossed into a suitcase.

You had no idea where you were going but anywhere was better than staying here to deal with his insufferable aloofness.

Thankfully you retrieved a headstart by ubering here with Gemma. Who was not only worried about you going off alone, but admittedly didn't want to risk giving off the impression of taking Harry's side by riding with him.

The quiet calm of the house is only temporary though, seeing as it's ruined as soon as he arrives. The very energy of it seems to seep and drain out at the sound of his voice in the distance. Arguing with Gemma about where you are. Which inevitably doesn't take long for him to figure out.

Without needing to look you can feel his gaze burning holes into you as he takes in the sight of you packing. A sharp surprised breath breaks the silence just before he urgently pleads, "Y/N, can we just talk for a minute,"

Especially after coming closer and seeing your almost full suitcase.

"We did that, and you still didn't listen. I'm done talking!" You reply aggressively shoving a perfume bottle inside of a side compartment. It was a favorite and you'd be pissed if you left it. "Now, I need some space,"

"Space for what?"

"To figure things out— to figure us out. I can't do that here,"

"What is there to figure out? We're getting married in several months. I love you, you love me. We love each other right?" Getting frustrated with spectating you going back and forth from dresser to suitcase, Harry takes it upon himself to interfere. Grabbing a top you just picked right out of your hand to make you focus on him.

Which was indeed annoying but it's more of what he said that bothers you, "Don't, don't do that,"

"Do what, what the hell am I doing now?!" He asks exasperated, raking his fingers through the front of his mane.

"Making it seem like I'm the one who had doubts all along! That's not true and you know it's not. You're the one that's had a funny way of showing it while I've been in this waiting for you to come around, and I can't keep doing that to myself!"

Taken aback he frowns hard, "That's not what I'm saying at all Y/N! I just meant that we're supposed to be spending our lives together why does this small thing have to change that?"

See this is why you wanted to go, you can feel your bugged eyes almost fall out of your head, "Small thing?! Harry we have major fucking issues!”

As usual he's in denial, "So what? No relationship is perfect, that's the whole point of working on it together. That's what makes it worth it,"

You snatch your top back out of his hand and blindly toss it in the suitcase beside you, "Together? Harry I don't even know what I did wrong for you to start treating me this way in the first place. It honestly feels like nothing I do is good enough for you anymore,"

Harry abruptly pauses at that, your words finally resonating with him. And if his crestfallen face was any indication of it, you'd swear that they bore an immense weight.

Not sure if it's to steady you or himself he halts you in place by the forearms pleading, "Stop, yeh don't mean that,"

"Yes I do," you sullenly affirm pulling away.

To hear you say that like it was the only thing that your were sure of, gutted him to the very core. Literally knocking the wind right out of him. You are his entire world that kept him going most of the time. How could he have fucked it up that royally bad to the point you couldn't see it? It profoundly terrified him.

He had to fix it, "Y/N you're more than good enough,"

Understandably so, you don't want to hear it, "Since when? Hmm? You said so your yourself, my little blue collar office party certainly wasn't."

In his current state of unnerved contrition, panic gets the best of him, "I never said that. Now you're puttin' words in my mouth,"

"Am I? Okay, lets pretend that's true.. It doesn't matter. You still never want to be around me. Hell I'm not even good enough for you to take the time out of your day off to work on our wedding! So why are we doing this?" You deadpan.

"Y/N, I admit that my timing was shit with Ken and you're right I really shouldn't have taken work out on you. I've been a right selfish prick. But just cos' I fucked up, doesn't mean that I don't want to be with yeh,"

You mutter a tongue in cheek, "Hard to tell," devastating him even more.

Being on the receiving end of the disparaging only makes him desperate, and in every sense.

He clutches onto you again, "Yeh know I love you, Y/N!" Defiantly you stare at the bed feeling yourself getting emotional, because you wanted to belive that again without doubt so badly. The menacing tightening in your chest and throat bring on the burning threat of impending tears. "Look at me lovie please?"

Sooner or later you do, annoyed that a few manage to escape. You wipe them away angrily with the back of your hand, "What?"

The look on his face is not only distressed but tormented, "Don't leave. Look I get it, I don't think about making you feel loved like it's something I've got to get done everyday. Yeh know? Like everything else, but it is and I'm going to from now on! I promise,"

"You've made promises before, how do I know that you'll keep this one?"

His hands slide down from your arms to hold both of your hands firmly. You noted as something he did out of habit whenever he wanted to stress something important to you, "Cos' anything else for us is not an option. I'll do whatever it takes,"

It's always sad when anything has to get to this point. But of course as reality would have it, nobody is perfect. As people we do need room to make mistakes in order to grow. Harry included. Faults aside, he was still very much the love of your life. For that he at least deserved the chance to prove himself.

Especially since he seems to be aware of his own errors now and finally taking accountability. It was the only way to move forward.

Although still perturbed in time you relent, "Fine. But I don't want to hear anymore talk of weddings or marriage until you prove to me that you're all in. Not until we're both sure that this is absolutely what we want,"

He wanted to argue til he was blue in the face that this is everything he wanted but settles for a relieved, "Okay then,"

Harry should've known that he was pushing it when he went to hold you right after, but he couldn't help himself. This very opportunity was on borrowed time and he refused to take it for granted. Even if it isn't reciprocated and is void of all enjoyment.

When he let's go you don't even look at him, you just get back to sealing and securing your suitcase. Which scares the life out of him, "Wait where-"

You sigh irritated, "I still need some space. I can't be directly up under you right now."

He wasn't estatic about it. Watching you brush coldly past him, but he'd compromise for you staying in the room down the hall over other extremes any day.

****

"You're on in ten!"

Harry should be used to Good Morning America by now after all the performances he's put on here, and yet here he was pacing. His stomach had been in knots from the moment he woke up this morning.

Normally the first shows were always the best and yet the worst. New music meant new reactions and although he trusted the unyielding support of his fans, others that weren't so nice would hear it as well. Which honestly wasn't so bad, it's just when he has to get on a stage and see their live reactions for himself is usually what's so nerve wracking. This time though he was a nervous wreck for one reaction in particular.

On cue of the third second his eyes land on the empty sofa across the room once again. He hadn't been able to stop checking for the past two hours. You said that you'd be here.

A couple weeks have passed and your relationship was very much still on the rocks. Apologizing helped to put a stop to your hurt but did nothing to mend the damage that was already done. Blatantly shown in the distance you kept.

An entirely new barrier went up between you. For all intents and purposes you moved into the guestroom. You'd be gone before he got up in the morning and in bed asleep before he even got home, even on days off. So affection and any room for proper communication were really off the table.

You were thoroughly guarded and while he kind of understood after so many ridiculous: It's over! Caught Red handed in wedding boutique with ex! headlines launched. He still hated every facet about it.

The new resentment from trying to explain the situation to family members, the total separation while under the same roof, the bullshit single word responses whenever he'd try and have a conversation through text when you actually were apart, or the way either of you didn't laugh together anymore. It was driving him absolutely mad.

He had talked to Anne and Gemma asking for advice on different occasions, pleading his case of how you wouldn't really speak to him, and they both managed to say the same thing: It's your fault!

Which wasn't necessarily wrong, but he needed an actual solution in order to fix what was happening. There wasn't much he could do with your jaded demeanor but he refused to give up. He had to do something to prove that he was still in this and not just to go through the motions.

Eventually Harry came up with the idea to extend an olive branch of sorts. To fix the parts that he had initially fucked up to show you that he is really going to change.

Today marked the start of one his biggest shows on the schedule. The first official televised live performance for the new album, and he couldn't think of a better moment to share. So he kind of purposely blocked you in the driveway the other night so that you'd have no choice but to talk to him in order to leave. And he didn't waste the opportunity to ask you to come hangout backstage before he went on for support.

As he suspected you'd been reluctant, especially given the last rehearsal that you attended, but overall you did agree and he was thrilled. But as time passed on up until the day of the show, that thrill shifted to excitement, and when the hours dwindled down to minutes before going on that excitement morphed into worry. He called twice earlier but received no answer. None of his team had received any sign of you arriving at the venue either. And as he walked through the curtain and onto the stage his hope was fully crushed.

****

Despite being able to force himself to go through the performance with a smile and all the bells and whistles. He couldn't withstand the facade of it any longer once the moment was over.

Other than disappointment he didnt know what to feel.

The band offered to go out to celebrate their phenomenal return and he politely refused. The urge to get an explanation consumed his every thought and was the highest of priorities at the moment.

So here he was pulling into your shared driveway at his earliest convenience. Noting the majority of lights on in the house and the unfamiliar vehicle parked out in front.

Inside the sound of your cheery voice alerted him instantly. Is this how you were normally when he wasn't around? And if nothing was really wrong then why didn't you show up or at least respond to his phone calls?

The answers to his inquisition come in the form of you sitting on the sofa, head tossed back in laughter nursing a glass of wine and you're not alone. At first glance he questions the random massive bloke in his home, but as Harry wanders closer he realizes the bloke isn't so random after all.

He'd seen him a zillion times in yearbooks and family photo albums and had even been introduced a few years ago. Since then every encounter with him had always been the same. Now Harry didn't like to use the word hate because it was really strong, but he absolutely hated Noah.

Anyone that knew Noah knew that he had a massive thing for you. They knew that he'd probably been pining for you from the moment that you met and at every opportunity given he'd try to weasel his way in.

Harry could admit to being unbearably pathetic when he was jealous, but Noah always managed to bring out the absolute worst in him by getting directly under his skin.

Above the borderline creepy and annoying core that made Noah... well Noah, was the exterior of layers that he put on and he put them on very well.

Not only did he get an insane amount of leverage for being your childhood bestfriend. Noah was charming and in a way that gave Harry a run for his money. Speaking of money Noah was rich and successful in that he owned his own company, that usually up until now kept him busy and away from you. In Harry's personal opinion, worst of all, Noah was devilishly handsome. Dark thick hair and brows over blue dreamy eyes and a strong chiseled jaw and cheeks that were neatly covered in hair that connected smoothly in which Harry could never attain himself. He couldn't even begin to get started on his physique. Noah had more muscles than Harry knew what to do with.

At the thought Harry could've sworn that he cut himself just from the tight grip that he had on his keys. The sharp sting pulling him out of his reverie.

"...sorry he's not usually like this it must of been one hell of a show...” Harry barely registers you addressing him or that he's been made out.

"Should be careful with that, didn't one of his band mates struggle with his hearing due to the high pitched little girls?" Noah adds and Harry's nerves are immediately irked.

"Noah, didn't know yeh were stopping by would've made proper arrangements if I had," Harry greets lacking any and all enthusiasm. Imagining barricading all the doors and windows just so he'd think no one was home and leave for good.

"Hopefully I'm not intruding. Work had me really swamped and I just thought I'd pull my head out of my ass for a moment to properly congratulate my friend. She works so hard, the least I could do is show my face,"

That stupid fucking face... Harry thought.

"Noe, you've already sent flowers and all that you don't have to explain anything to me I totally get it," you gently reassure and Harry finds himself aggressively rolling his eyes. The difference in your reaction is baffling to him.

"Of course I do." Noah's gaze narrows, but as he takes a sip he seems to remember something. "Mmm, I know it's not much, but I did bring some gifts. For the new office.." Placing his glass down he reaches towards the ground and retrieves a gift bag for you.

You open it absolutely giddy, "Oh my God Noe, this is so cute thank you!" You smile genuinely grateful for the personalized mouse pad; a picture of you two from graduation, a day that had truly changed everything for you both. Then a few inspirational plaques and framed art pieces to hang up.

Meanwhile Harry feels extremely out of place in his own home watching your face light up like fireworks on New Years. He also doesn't miss the smug side eye Noah gives. "I've got one just like it in my office too,"

When a smile to match graces Noah's face, Harry's hand begins to sting again. Fucking creep!

To his ultimate annoyance Noah isn't finished yet. Reaching in his pocket and revealing a black box too, "And...this is for the anniversary party, I know you'll find something perfect to go with it,"

Your eyes widen three times their size at the sight of from what Harry can see is expensive jewelry, "Noe this is, I- I can't accept this,"

"I'll be genuinely offended if you don't," he smiles openly smug this time, sitting back and swirling the wine in his glass. "I've had it revamped but it was my grandmother's. I promised her on her death bed that I would give it to someone special,"

Harry isn't suprised when you coo and thank him a little too much for his liking. But Noah's pretentious show almost made him miss the important part of what he just said. Slowly he puts two and two together, "Anniversary party? Your parent's?"

"Yeah it's this weekend, Noah's my date," You reply disinterested, eyes still glued to the gorgeous necklace Noah brought.

Harry isn't so sure where to begin with that information, but the lack of said information is a start. "I see, and where was my invitation?"

At his tone your gaze meets his and it's peeved to put it mildly. He had no such place but for the sake of your guest you play it cool, "I know you've got work to focus on so I thought I'd skip bothering you. Plus my parents love Noah,"

"It's probably for the best man, I can't imagine that you'd enjoy walking into the lion's den," Noah for some reason finds it appropriate to add teasingly.

Harry struggles to restrain his offense, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's be honest, Y/N's family doesn't live under rocks. They're not very happy with you," Noah grimaces with a condescending shrug and sip of wine.

Harry is easily baited and enraged by his gall, "And how the hell would you know mate?"

Knowing that it normally takes quite a bit for Harry to get worked up, nonetheless to the extent of fighting, makes this situation all the more alarming. Noah hardly uttered two sentences and Harry was unnecessarily on edge. You literally step in before further escalation. Leaving your spot on the couch to somewhat drag Harry out of the room by the hand, "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you need to relax."

"What's he even doing here?" He demands.

"What do you mean he's my best friend, why can't he visit?!" You whisper incredulous.

"Oh okay... so it's cool for yeh to do it but I can't have one bloody drink with mine without yeh making a fucking scene for the world to see? Got it." He sneers.

Harry's clearly baiting you into an arguement and you nearly fall for it until you realize that Noah would hear everything you're saying. So instead you opt out, "I'm not going there with you right now. Go take a shower or do some fucking yoga and we'll talk about it later."

At your dismissal Harry scoffs and shakes his head disappointed. Surprisingly he relents, roughly brushing past you and heading to the bedroom, "Right, whenever that is."

****

It didn't feel right to have Noah stick around after that embarrassing exchange. So you apologetically promise to reschedule and thankfully Noah didn't seem too bothered by it. Squeezing you goodbye and offering that you call if you needed anything. Which low key meant brute force for Harry.

Rooms away Harry had to actively pretend like he couldn't hear you and Noah laughing. He wanted to drain the noise out by getting in the shower but he didn't trust Noah enough.

His nerves were on a distinct edge until he heard farewells exchanged and the front door finally closed behind him. But they teeter off once you grace him with your presence because he's wildly upset. You enter stoically and sit criss crossed on the edge of the bed. Watching him flutter about stripping down and collecting things for a shower.

"So you're family doesn't like me now? That's great." He retorts flustered tugging his shirt by the hem and pulling it over his head.

Harry seems to do his best putting on this angry front, but you know better than anyone that he's really just hurt about your parents. Usually he was enamored with them and vice versa so to find out that they didn't invite him really cut deep.

With that in mind you try to cut him some slack, bracing yourself for his misdirected frustration, "They're just not happy with you, huge difference,"

Indignant he turns to glare at you, "Same difference actually and what the hell happened to yeh today?"

"He just showed up when I was on my way out, and I couldn't just leave it felt rude. Plus I hardly get to see him because of our schedules,"

Harry bit his tongue to refrain from arguing that you obviously had been in contact when Noah sent flowers. Instead choosing to focus on issues of today, "And yeh couldn't call me back?"

"Again it felt rude to interrupt him just for that. I thought I'd have more time to-"

"Just for that? Yeh don't think it was rude to leave me hanging and checking non stop for you to show up?" Harry suddenly snaps.

Which is annoying but you couldn't entirely fault him for it, since you'd been in his shoes and knew all too well exactly where he was coming from. Today's show was a huge deal and you missed it, point blank. So you honestly admit, "Yes I do think it's rude given I know exactly how that feels, but I didn't do it on purpose. Sorry," You're met with silence as he simply shakes his head and turns his back to you, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Pure curiosity makes you push the envelope, "I guess it's a bad idea to ask how it went?"

He scoffs pushing them down his legs, "When I feel let down and disappointed, yeah."

This conversation was going nowhere and fast, "Okay then... Never mind." You give up and head towards the door.

But he apparently isn't finished, "Were yeh even gonna tell me about your parents anniversary party?"

"Yes," you confess, crossing your arms and lean against the doorframe.

Gruntled disbelief consumes his features as he tosses his worn clothes into the hamper, "Really? Cos' yeh already made plans with Noah without consulting me,"

"I only did it for you! They're upset Harry, do you really want to be on the opposing end of cold shoulders and side eyes? Not just by them, but by my aunts and uncles and cousins too!"

"Can't believe yeh told them in the first place," he mutters not so under his breath wandering into the closet not really knowing what he was looking for.

His blame game was beginning to piss you off now, "Did you forget that they were there with me? I didn't have to say anything, and they read blogs and comments like everyone else. What did you expect?"

On that note, in true stubborn Harry fashion he avoids addressing the problem anymore and in the process jumps the gun, "It's fine— it's fine, I'll fix it. I'll just get them a really great gift for the party and-"

"You shouldn't go, it's not a good idea," you quickly protest. Knowing how fast the party would become a shit show specifically on his behalf.

Though of course he's not thinking that way. Wholly offended he concludes, "I shouldn't go or yeh don't want me to?"

"Both," You admit and it makes Harry immediately see red.

"Why? Cos' yeh rather show off Noah and how great he's always been to yeh?" He seethes.

"No, because if you go it's just gonna draw unnecessary attention and I really don't want to deal with that," You argue.

”So how am I supposed to fix it then?" He deadpans in a tone so cynical you're not quite sure if his question is rhetorical.

"I don't know, just send the gift with me and I'll-"

For some reason your solution sets him off, "Do yeh not realize how incredibly insincere that is? I'm not some bloody coward that can't own up to mistakes and needs yeh to fight my battles for me!" He shouts.

Forcing you to yell back, "I know that! But there's a time and place for everything and their party isn't it. If anything it's better to just start with a peace offering,"

He rolls his eyes and suddenly deems it appropriate to remove his boxers and throw them in the hamper as well, "Didn't know we're at fucking war,"

"Well they're my family they care a lot," You sigh averting your gaze defeatedly, feeling an all too familiar dismissal coming on. After all, how long was he going to stand around naked? But just before you grant him some privacy and leave you decide to beat him to the punch.

"You should be worried if they didn't."

****

Secluded a little less than an hour later in the guest room, Harry knocks on the door. Peering in hesitantly once you call for him to come in. You're in the middle of coordinating your outfit for work tomorrow so you don't initially catch his newly calm mood.

Only offering a rather cold and distracted, "What do you want?"

Harry lingers in the doorway not really sure what to do with himself, "Em... To say goodnight... and apologize,"

Your expression is nothing short of skeptical when you inevitably turn to look at him, "For what?"

Harry's terrible posture deflates even more after releasing a forlorn sigh, "For being a shit person,"

"I'm listening," You goad unsatisfied with just that.

Harry anxiously scratches his temple, "S'not an excuse but I guess my feelings were hurt. One thing after another and it just felt like it was all on purpose. And well... I did what I did and said what I said,”

He was right there wasn't an excuse, but you could respect his honesty. So you grant him permission to sit on the unoccupied side of the bed and reward him with some of your own, "Even if I wanted to get back at you it wouldn't be like this. I know how much you love my parents and how much Noah bothers you— for whatever reason. If I was just going to play games of who could hurt who more, I wouldn't even be here,"

Relieved to hear that, Harry feels safe enough to indulge more of where he was coming from, "I know, I just... I don't know he's got the muscles, the company, and he's got that cool macho beard and mustache thing going on. Yeh always call mine a crustashe!" You laugh at that but do genuinely appreciate the candid insight.

For his comfort you sit beside him, "Because I prefer you fresh faced, I like that you're adorable and wholesome looking!"

Harry smiles and his dimples pop but it still doesn't quite meet his eyes, "He's already done things for yeh that I never did,"

"Like what?" You drill curious.

"Getting yeh cool stuff to decorate you're office...and I haven't even seen it," he gestures sullenly toward the paintings leaning against the wall.

Now he was being ridiculous, "Harry it's literally just a room with a desk and computer. And it's stuff I can easily buy myself,"

Still he sulks, and eventually you realize that this is meant to be more of an overdue explanation rather than a episode of debunking his worst fears. So you let him continue.

"I never told yeh, how proud I am. Yeh were hurting and I should've said it then, cos' it was the least I could've done. But I was so set on waiting for that perfect moment and wanting it to feel organic, but then everything happened and I thought it might come off like I was obligated to. So I thought it would be better if I didn't say anything at all, and it was the complete opposite,"

You couldn't begin to describe how much this clarification meant to you. For so long it's all you wanted. Why couldn't he just say that?

"Well what's stopping you now?" Optimistic you nudge his shoulder with your own, "I thought we established a long time ago simplicity goes a long way,”

For the first time since he entered this room he looks you properly in the eye. He almost looks scared. Biting down on his bottom lip he carefully reaches for your hands, in which you allow him to hold firmly. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Y/N, I am deeply honored to have someone like you to be a reflection of me out there. I love your ambitious, go getter, never say quit attitude, and I couldn't ask for a better inspiration that makes me want to be the best I've ever been everyday,"

Flattered your eyebrows raise to nearly meet your hairline, "Wow... Yeah if you had said that then it would have probably saved us some trouble down the road. Definitely didn't enjoy having an existential crisis thinking you were ashamed of me."

"What?" His face drops in unfiltered horror, "Love no I- .. I'm such a dipshit! I'm so sorry!"

Looking back now after getting his side of it you can't help but feel like you overreacted. It was honestly embarrassing, but knowing that there is no way to change the past you shrug halfheartedly, "I mean better late than never though,"

Harry looks at you as if you have three heads and shakes his, "Please stop being so forgiving, you're making me angry at myself all over again,"

You squeeze his hands this time, "Well don't be, I don't want to be angry with you anymore. You already apologized for it we're supposed to move on,"

Not so easily swayed Harry pulls his own hands free. In fact he feels so completely undeserving to even be in your presence he stands from the bed. "Yeah but your feelings are real, they matter and I was a proper cunt. I see why yeh wanted to leave,"

You were glad that he was finally seeing things from a different perspective but you didn't want him to beat himself up either. Harry didn't have to invite you to his show but he did; and he didn't have to come in here and explain himself but he did and the effort was greatly appreciated.

"You're getting better," you reassure.

Harry sighs unconvinced, "I need to be," Hating that he wasted enough of your time as it was, he decides to call it night. Obviously you had better things to do than deal with his shit, "G'night, I love you,"

Even though you're confused by his sudden departure you don't stop him, "Night, I love you too," assuming that maybe he just really needed some time to think for himself. You just hoped that he wouldn't over do it.

Before he closes the door behind himself you call, "Hey! Don't stress about my parents either, they'll come around eventually. Especially if you get them a good gift that we both can cosign,”

He scoffs at the unattainable idea, "Yeah but what?"

You shrug whimsically, glad to give him something productive to think about. Also hoping that a vote of confidence would go a long way, "I don't know, I'm sure you'll think of something."

****

For once you didn't mind that work kept both you and Harry occupied. While he was away out of town you hoped that the distraction would level him out and bring him to his senses.

It wasn't lost on you how irrational he'd get whenever Noah came around. Harry was undeniably jealous and it was cute until it wasn't.

While you appreciated the more frequent phone calls and the sincere declarations of love at the end of them. You detested that they mostly happened to be when you were out and about with Noah. During shared lunches and dinners over plans of the anniversary party. Even the initial improvement of thoughtful 'just checking in' face time calls gradually became interrogations of your whereabouts to see if Noah was around. At it's worst when he found out you started working out together.

Nope take that back!

The absolute worst was when he called you in the middle of a Netflix marathon, cozy and clad in pajamas together on the couch. Harry had a full out meltdown threatening to come home in that instant. It was too much.

Noah definitely is a catch. Funny, smart, and so beautifully made it's annoying. But he wasn't what you wanted, nonetheless your type. He was like a brother to you. It was astounding that the person that actually knew you the best didn't realize that.

On the other hand, you mentally took note of the mirror effect. With Noah around Harry strangely didn't have time for Kendall. As a byproduct, partying and drinking had also fallen completely off the agenda. Although you figured that might also have something to do with his touring regimen, it was definitely an improvement either way.

Ultimately though, today couldn't have come fast enough. You yourself for the most part had been dodging family criticism and now it was time to face the music.

Noah, ever the strategist, made sure you arrived at the perfect time. Not too early, not too late, but just the right time where greetings were already issued and the festivities were beginning so everyone would be too distracted to notice your presence.

Though when they did Noah was sweet enough to avert the subject, keeping it totally at a surface level. That is until you run into the countriest auntie of all time. Also the worst gossip in the entire family. Clearly there was no courtyard big enough for her not to find you like a heat seeking missile.

"Noah honey, I didn't think we'd be seeing you again! Especially after that rock star hmm," You get playfully elbowed and can't help rolling your eyes, "Oh Y/N baby, don't be embarrassed it happens to the best of us! Mine was a marine that couldn't keep it in his pants to save his life! Shame ya didn't at least make it to the prenuptial though. His alimony would've changed your life," She fans herself at the thought utterly oblivious to her lack of tact, "But you and Noah have always been two peas in a pod so no love lost. Y'all belong together anyway!" She smiles knowingly.

Just when you think she's done pushing boundaries she opens her mouth again with a cunning look in her eyes, "Speaking of, Noah.. Times a ticking! When are you gone' make a honest little lady out of our Y/N?"

You look to Noah with stunned wide eyes, unconditionally embarrassed that he was being put through the wringer like this. You silently mouth, "I'm so sorry!"

And yet he simply chuckles sharing one of his charming butterfly conjuring smiles with her before focusing on you, "Whenever she's ready,"

Your aunty awes and coos while you stare at him amazed, he played it so cool sometimes it made you wonder...

****

As the sun went down everyone was gathered at tables to view a slideshow of memories on a projector screen. But just before playing it your parents decide to open their gifts.

Obviously you go first, unveiling an antique wind chime and matching custom pottery vases for future garden parties. In which they love since they were expanding their yard. As a matter of fact they talked your ear off about nothing but gardening whenever you spoke most of the time. So your gifts are perfect.

Noah goes next since he's your guest and reveals two all expense paid cruise line tickets to Hawaii and front row complete season passes to see the Golden State Warriors. When your dad can't pick his jaw up off the table, your mom actually jumps out of her seat to hug him, making everyone laugh. "I don't care what anyone says, you're my son in law!"

Your laughter immediately stops though. You understand that she is excited but that was taken entirely too far and way out of line. Comments like that weren't fair to any one of you.

For the first time ever you began to regret bringing Noah. It was weird, and it honestly wasn't his fault. Since you never really corrected anyone about your current status. But once the feeling of betrayal set in so did the guilt and it really didn't feel right being here without Harry.

You end up standing to excuse yourself for the evening but loud commotion in the distance halts you in place. It sounds like construction, and grows louder and louder as a side entrance to the courtyard is opened by staff members and in comes an entire forklift truck.

"Um, excuse me! What is going on here?" Your mom bristles completely appalled at their timing considering they haven't even got to the slideshow yet.

The driver proceeds take what looks like another massive table to the platform beside the actual projector and effortlessly lowers it to the ground. By then your father gets up for your mother's sake, trying to get his attention but to no avail. He drives off and everyone is left utterly confused.

"I'll go see what's happening," Noah reassures you standing up too.

But before he can leave the table an all too familiar voice calls out, "Sorry I'm late, I couldn't wrap this one but I just had to bring it along!"

Harry's here dressed in a nice suit and he's not alone.

"Oh... my God," you gasp.

Strolling in behind him were a couple of the venue staff members with items in hand. Though more importantly stood right beside him is none other than Elton freaking John! In a signature over the top flashy suit you couldn't begin to describe. He makes his way over to what the forklift driver dropped off, to reveal a grand piano from under a thick white cloth. The staff were evidently there to set up the microphone and speakers.

Harry continues speaking gaining everyone's attention again, "A little birdy once told me, that a pair of teenagers met at a skating rink in 1974, and when they heard a certain song they fell in love and have been ever since. Fast forward 47 years later and that song still creates the same magic on this day every year. Magic that I think we all hope to have," he announces and for a moment his eyes hold yours full of intensity. "Hopefully that magic makes today even more special. Ladies and gentlemen I give you Elton John and this is Bennie and the Jets!" Harry bows out with exaggerated extended arms excusing himself.

Your parents are still stood there frozen in shock until the opening keys are played and everyone else starts clapping along to help with the beat. Eventually your dad takes the lead and they fall into the rhythm, swaying to the music while everyone gathers round to watch.

At the sight of your parents on the make shift dance floor, the smile on your face was not only outright painful from doing it so hard but watery too. You couldn't believe that he did this— that he remembered! You told him that story once while you were drunk off your ass, when you first started dating.

It's almost funny because you've always wanted a cheesy but kind of romantic Rom-Com moment and now you finally got one and it's absolutely surreal.

Harry playfully clears his throat somehow suddenly behind you, and he's got a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "Not to ruin the moment but can I have this dance?"

An emotional mess, you nod and allow him to lead you to the area where everyone is dancing now. Relief also swarms you when as you pass through the crowd of family members, Harry is celebrated in pats on the shoulder and appproving nods. Surprisingly started by your obnoxious auntie.

It could be the other gazes on you or maybe just Harry's, but your stomach is pumped to the max with giddy butterflies. This is all you ever wanted, Harry with you and all in during the important moments.

Once he pulls you in close you never want him to let go.

****

By the end of the night everyone is tired out from dancing and all too happy to say their goodbyes.

The time spent today socializing is more than enough to last you a lifetime. Now you were content to squeeze back into your little bubble of life. Harry has a private heart to heart conversation with your parents while you collect your things.

Back at the table you jolt at the reminder of Noah. Who completely slipped your mind once Harry swept you off your feet so unexpectedly.

Since he did drive you here it was only fair to let him know you'd be going home with Harry instead. Though when you find him at a table with some boisterous uncles, sitting down with his head resting on the table, he's drunk beyond all recognition.

In all good conscience you couldn't leave him like this, he certainly wouldn't leave you.

"Noe, you wanna crash at mine so you can sleep this off?" In response he mumbles something unintelligible and so you just take it as a yes anyway.

To your dismay, Harry wasn't too happy about it when he recieved the news. Complaining the whole time you both struggled to load Noah into his back seat. Mostly worried that Noah was going to puke in the car on the way there. But thankfully there was no such case.

When arriving home and with one arm draped over your shoulder, you heave Noah's drunken dead weight into the guest room. Which meant for the first time in weeks you would have to sleep with Harry.

Noah groans as you roll him onto his back on the bed. Making sure that he was centered enough so that he wouldn't fall off. "Don' leave me,"

"I'm not going anywhere I'll just be in the other room okay?" you promise, thoroughly amused. Noah wasn't one to let himself get this sloppy since college.

"S'not what I mean..." He swallows hard, barely able to peek through his heavily lidded eyes.

Simultaneously scared that he might throw up and of what he might say next, you get up and close the door quickly. Definitely not needing Harry as an audience if he said something wild.

He seems to understand and waits until you come back to speak, "I meant what I said before. If this doesn't work out for you I will always be here. You know that right? Single, taken, abducted by aliens, or whatever you just say the word,"

You exhale heavily through your nose hoping that's just the liquor talking, "Trust me, if this doesn't work out I'll be knocking your door down," you tease laughing but he doesn't. Instead his glossy eyes seem to search yours for something that just isn't quite there.

It's uncomfortably quiet for a minute too long so you decide to just leave. Noah's adorable droopy eyes follow you all the way to the door before he speaks again. A hoarse but sincere, "I love you Y/N,” leaving his lips.

Frozen in place you say the only thing that felt right in that moment, ”I know. Goodnight."

After leaving his room your nerves came out to play and it honestly had nothing to do with what just happened. But more so at the fact that you and Harry would be sharing a bed.

The lights were still on when you entered the room and Harry was topless already in bed. Sitting up against against the headboard patiently waiting for you.

"Alright?" He asks with a quirked brow. Gaze following you around concerned as you undress, switching into a tank top and shorts.

"I think so," you honestly reply finally removing your gifted necklace and placing it on your nightstand before slowly climbing in bed.

His warmth underneath the blankets naturally made you gravitate towards him. Thus why you started sleeping in the guest room in the first place. When you turned to lay on your side Harry didn't miss a beat sliding in behind you into your preferred big spoon position.

You could feel it as Harry took a deep relieved breath, "I'm so glad that I didn't listen to yeh,"

Amused you snort, "Me too," and snuggle into him more, "Talk about an ace in the hole... I'm pretty sure my parents love you more than me now,"

"No arguements here," Harry teases but also gives a loving squeeze, "Doesn't matter though, I'm gonna love yeh more anyway," He promises, pressing his soft lips to the exposed skin on the back of your shoulder sending chills down your spine. The contact easily making your pulse race so fast you swear you could hear it. And without any signs of protest Harry continues to press one after another and another...

He's far too amped and too aware to sleep right now and honestly so are you.

Harry's at peace with just having you in his arms again but that doesn't stop him from wanting more. Before you know it you are twisted around to face him and his lips are desperately searching for yours.

God you missed this!

The intensity makes your stomach drop off an endless cliff and your skin singes at every point of contact. Your bare thigh hinged on his hip, his hand grasping fervently at your back to get you closer, all the while your hands tangle in his hair not feeling close enough either. You don't even separate to breathe.

It's not long before that yearning and urgency of desire takes control.

Your kisses growing more heated, when his tongue coerces yours into a sweet dance you knew all too well. Unabashedly ravenous you roll onto your back and pull him on top of you. Craving to be stupendously enraptured by him.

Harry has never needed you more than in this moment and yet something in his subconscious will not let him enjoy this. Perhaps the small voice in the back of his mind worried that this was only temporary. Afraid that you would go back to basically being roommates instead of lovers.

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't bear it.

So risking it all he parts from you, hovering just enough to see you properly. Almost in reflex you reach out to continue where you left off but he stubbornly resists. He needed to know where you stood. Breathless he asks, "Can we just.. start over?"

Confused you pant out, "What?"

He sighs laying it all out on the table, "I mean like really start over, I'm tired of being at odds with yeh. I miss yeh, I love yeh and I just want to make up already,"

Despite his horribly timed interruption you can't help but laugh. This entire time you thought you already had. But you do appreciate his push for verbal confirmation and decide to rib him a bit, "Maybe,"

Unfortunately his expression is hopelessy incredulous not catching on to your joke, "Maybe? What's stopping yeh? Tell me exactly what I have to do to-" you lean up and interrupt him with a languid kiss.

Your teeth tug playfully at his bottom lip until it snaps back into place and your restless hands delve into his boxers, grabbing on and squeezing him tight enough to make him shudder from head to toe, "I'd rather show you."

If it weren't for the painful strain in his arms from holding himself up during that. Harry would've sworn that he was dreaming.

****

Harry had an axe to grind and he wanted everyone in the vicinity to know it. How loud you both were last night and early this morning did just the job. Putting him in greatest of moods because all finally felt right in the world. Like a demon had been exorcised. Although in reality the actual demon was knocked out on top of him. Drooling like a grizzly while still maintaining the appearance of an angel.

Once stealthily peeling you off, he quietly went to the kitchen to get a headstart on breakfast in a daze. Reflecting on his favorite moments.

Sex and making love with you was one thing but make up sex blew everything out of the water. It just hit different.

The passion was on another level entirely, God the scratching, biting, squeezing, screaming and down right rabid carnal—

"Fuck!"

"Holy shit!"

Both Harry and Noah startle at the unexpected sight of each other in the hall. Harry rubs his chest to soothe the coronary he almost had, and Noah drops his hand mid turn of the front door doorknob suddenly hesitant in making his hasty exit.

Harry couldn't be happier to see him leave, sublty flauting his semi nudity. He smirks proudly, "Not staying for breakfast?"

"Uhh no, I've got to get back to work," Noah replies sheepishly, scratching the back of his his neck clearly uncomfortable.

It takes everything for Harry to resist the urge to gloat and he shamelessly fails, "Are yeh sure? Yeh look exhausted mate, did-.... did we keep you up last night?" Harry feigns embarrassment though internally he's pointing and laughing like a spiteful child, "I'm so sorry mate, it was the built up tension and frustration and just finally touching base, we had to channel it into-"

The more Harry spoke the more disgusted and enraged Noah became, "You know just because you hooked up, doesn't mean this is over. You'll blow it again eventually and she'll come to her senses. And when she does, I'll be there to pick up all the pieces. We'll see who's laughing then."

Harry knew that he didn't like Noah for a reason, and as he anticipated his true colors finally came out.

But he's not at all worried. In fact, it makes Harry smile a genuine shit eating smile. Because if there's anything in this entire world that he's sure of it's your love for each other and he would die before he allowed anything or anyone come between that.

Harry replies extremely enthusiastic, "We all have shit dreams at some point mate. Did you know, I wanted to be a baker?"

At that Noah outwardly can't handle it anymore and heads out with a firm slam of the door. In which Harry locks and laughs to himself almost madly. He couldn't believe it.

****

When you woke up and looked at Harry with stars in your eyes today, Noah's revelation and all the other drama of yesterday, had practically become a thing of the past and Harry didn't mind keeping it that way.

Especially when he got to sweep his arms around you from behind and steal some neck kisses while you filled a mug with coffee. Humming along in satisfaction. His heart swelled at the sight of your engagement ring back on your finger while you stirred in your sugar.

He couldn't remember being this happy in years and he prayed that it would last in the following.

#Harry styles angst #Harry styles imagines #Harry x reader #Harry styles #one direction imagines #Harry Styles one shot #One direction one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #all me #I write I guess

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Chapter 9: End of the Rope

Word count: 1,802

Warnings: language

A/N: YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE?! FAR FROM IT!! I had sever writer's block so I'm back y'all and I'm gonna finish this before the new year. I can't leave y'all hanging in 2020.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ransom dreaded the days ahead as it all too quickly became Saturday evening, he sat on his bed, looking at the black tv screen. Messages came from Clarissa saying that she was excited to spend dinner with him tonight and pictures of her in different dresses followed through, some more revealing than the last. But Ransom didn't care what she wore, he rarely ever did. He remembered the first time they went on a date, to get acquainted with each other and the potential future they had together. He remembered being told to be on his best behavior by his parents, remember the way her very short dress hugged her tightly. Second hand embarrassment crossed his mind as he remembered only staring at her breast during dinner, getting a little handsy with her on the way to the car, and finally getting her out of that tight dress in the backseat. 

Things slowly began to take a turn, the first time she actually hit him was when he raised his voice at her over a stupid argument. He remembered feeling ashamed, but the hitting became more often as the little things he did annoyed her. Ransom remembered her slapping him across the face in public at the bar for being friendly with the bartender. The time she shut him out in the rain for getting the wrong purse for her birthday. But the worse was when he didn't want sex, she would scratch, bite and hit him for refusing any advances made by her. 

He felt trapped. Doomed to be in this relationship forever. 

But things were different now, he wouldn't have to go through this anymore after tonight. Tonight he was going to get his life back, even if it meant losing everything. 

Ransom rubbed the small amount of stubble on his chin and checked his watch one last time, "Let's get this over with."

The restaurant was simple yet grand, something that would at least satisfy Clarissa who was picky on where they ate. "What made you want to go on a date all of a sudden?" She asked him as they pulled into the valet, letting the attendees open the car door for them. 

"It's been a while and we've both been working hard." Ransom smiled as he walked with her through the doors and were promptly sat at their table.

"Aw, babe, you're such a sweetheart when you're not being dumb." Clarissa said, "You should have shaved your face, you're starting to look like a hobo."

Ransom laughed, despite the mean comments as they ordered, "I'll remember that."

As expected, during the whole dinner Clarissa talked about herself and her school work, if it wasn't school work, it was cheerleading, if it wasn't cheerleading, it was her life. Ransom, sat and listened to the whole thing, zoning in and out of Clarissa's speech, she could be a filibuster with the way she talked. 

"And also, when are we going to be getting anything from your grandfather?" She asked, "That old geezer should totally help us pay for our wedding, I'm sure he has the money for it, plus it's just two more years until we get married, do you think he'll stay alive that long? That house nurse looks like she's sucking him dry and not just in the boring way." 

Ransom's jaw clenched, "You know, babe, funny you should mention my grandpa." He chuckled darkly, "He's not giving us shit, my family isn't even his fucking will, can you believe that?" 

Clarissa's jaw dropped, "what the fuck? How are your parents going to pay mine back?" She seethed, "That fucking old dick, we have the right to his money!" 

"I don't know how my parents are going to pay yours back, it's messed up actually, because since he told me that, I'm ending this relationship." 

"You're…. What?" She asked, dropping her fork, "You're fucking with me Ransom, you can't just 'end this relationship', we're engaged basically." 

"There's no paperwork saying that we're together," Ransom said, standing up from the table, "so I'm done, I'm done with how you treat me like shit, beat on me and assault me. We're done Clarissa, I'm serious. You will get nothing from my family." 

The whole restaurant stood still, watching Ransom and Clarissa, hushed voices could be heard but it was clear that everyone knew this was a break up. 

"Ransom, you can't do this!" 

"But I just did, waiter, she's paying for the dinner, I forgot my wallet at home." Ransom said, turning and walking out the door, Clarissa chasing after him. 

"Where the fuck are you going?!" She yelled, "You can't leave me here!"

The car was brought around and Ransom received his keys, getting into his BMW and rolled down the window, "Call an Uber." 

"You're gonna fucking regret this!" 

"I don't have anything to regret if it gets me away from you, eat shit Clarissa. " Ransom said as he pulled away from the restaurant, down the road while Clarissa stood in shock. 

Monday rolled around as your weekend went by, taken up by work and school work, it was strange but not unusual to not hear from Ransom, but you saw his BMW in the parking lot at school and figured he had a busy weekend like you did. What you weren't expecting was Clarissa's dirty look as she walked by your car, weird. Later that day you found Ransom in the library, wearing the leather jacket you picked out for him. He looked gorgeous, his skin glowed and he had a smile on his face, which only grew more wide when he saw you. The warm smile made your heart flutter as you sat across from him. 

"What's that look for?" You asked him, "finally understand your math homework?"

"I broke up with Clarissa." 

Your eyes widened, "Seriously? Is that why she was giving me a dirty look today?" 

"Ignore her," he said, "I got tired of it, of her, controlling me and making me feel like shit." 

"God damn, I'm happy for you then, what girl are you gonna swoon next?" You laughed, but felt a sting in your chest from the thought of Ransom being with someone else. That wasn't jealousy was it? No, no, you don't get jealous. Especially not over a himbo like Ransom fucking Drysdale. 

"I don't know," he said, stroking the imaginary beard he had, his blue eyes staring deep into yours, "I could try to swoon you, make you my girl, my sweetheart."

Oh fuck. 

You both burst out laughing as people who walked by gave you both looks. 

"Shut the hell up Ransom!" You said, wiping tears off your face. The statement only made your heart swell more, Ransom was your friend and that was the boundary that was set. 

"Alright, alright, it was worth a shot," He smiled, "but do I still get to take you out places?" 

"You can take me anywhere you wanna go Ransom, I'm always down for a road trip with you, even to the store." You smiled as you stood up from your seat, "I gotta get going, I got work today, catch you later?" 

He nodded, "have a good day at work, sweetheart." 

"Eat shit, Ransom." 

You walked out to your car, noticing as you got closer, your tire was flat. "Fucking great-" not one, but two, and they weren't just flat, your tires were slashed. You blood began to boil as you looked around for the culprit, your eyes landing on the cheerleading squad, laughing loudly with some of the football players. Among them you saw Clarissa, laughing and smoking a cigarette. 

You tried to rationalize that maybe she wasn't the one that slashed your tires, maybe it was someone else who had it out for you. But who? That's when she made eye contact with you, a big smug look on her face. 

Ok, this bitch is just asking for it. 

You marched across the parking lot to group, silence falling as you walked up to Clarissa. 

"Hey, it's y/n! What's up?!" She asked. 

"You slashed my tires." You answered, it wasn't a question, but you know it was a fact.

Clarissa gave an exaggerated gasp, "what?! Why would I do that?" 

"Listen, Clarissa, I don't know what you have against me, but if this is about you and Ransom breaking up, leave me out of this. I'll give you a chance to pay for my tow and tire replacement before I-"

"Hm, I assumed Ransom told you we broke up?" She asked, stepping closer to you, "or were you waiting for him to break up with me? Controlling him so you could get your slutty hands on him."

"Ok," you breathed, getting annoyed by the minute, "first of all, I have no interest in Ransom, he's just my friend and-"

"A friend you're fucking," she scoffed, "you don't think I noticed the way he looks at you?! Spending all his time with you?! What would he ever see in you? You're probably not even a good fuck."

You snapped, clenching your hand into a fist as you reeled back and- 

A arm wrapped around your shoulder, another grabbing your wrist, you looked up to see Ransom, staring daggers at Clarissa.

"I called a tow truck, go to my car." He said sternly, it was the first time you actually listened to him without fighting back. 

Your shoulders relaxed as you began to walk away, Clarissa was clearly about to say something when Ransom turned his back to her. You stood silently at his car, looking at your pathetic little Volkswagen. Your blood still boiled, wanting to get back at Clarissa, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. 

Ransom was taking pictures of your tires, probably for insurance purposes, "I'll change your tires at my place, you should call your job and tell them you'll be late." 

"I can't get to work, I'm gonna need to call out." You sighed.

"I'll take you and pick you up, it's the least I can do for you." He said.

You felt your gut twist at his kind action, why the hell were you in the middle of this? And why did you feel so weak? Pulling out your phone you began walking in a circle around his car, calling your manager to say that you weren't coming in today. Thankfully, she understood and didn't ask questions, the tone of your voice was all she needed to know something was wrong. Hanging up, the bright yellow flashing lights of the tow truck came to a halt in front of your car, Ransom gave the man his address and soon your car was towed. 

"Let's get going." He smiled as you both got into his car and followed. 

[thatonecurlygirl]

Navigating Nick Amaro [8]

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU Pairing: Nick x Reader Word Count: 1.8k Read more: Navigating Nick Amaro Masterlist

“You keep dozing off, there’s no way you could have drove.” Nick chuckles as he passes a car and glances over at you.

“I’m not dozing off, I’m just resting my eyes.” You yawn.

“Right.” He chuckles. “We are almost there, we are about a mile away.”

“Thank goodness.” You groan out. “I mean, like the ride, I’m ready to be out of the car for a while.” You add after seeing him flinch slightly.

Nick nods and the rest of the ride to his house is quiet. The streets are full of cars, people are walking everywhere. It’s warmer here and it seems almost brighter, but that’s likely because of being someone other than where you’ve lived nearly your whole life.

“Wow.” You say under your breath as you watch everything pass by through the window.

“Here we are.” He says pulling into the driveway of a cute one-story house with a great view. “I’ll grab the bags, will you go open it up for me?” He asks, handing you the keys.

“Yeah, of course.”

You hop out of the passenger seat and practically run-up to the house, quickly unlocking the door, excited to see this new house. Once the rent door is unlocked and open, you glance back, just for a moment to see Nick’s large hand running down the front of his handsome face that holds a pained expression. You feel that in your chest, the hurt, the pain for seeing his pain.

What the hell were you supposed to do? You’ve been in love with Nick since junior year of high school and all of a sudden the two of you sleep together and he wants you to move in. There has been no time to process what happened and you are confused and scared.

“You need help with anything Nicky?” You ask.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Why don’t you go on in and take a look around.”

You stand there, hesitant for a moment before quietly sighing and turning inside. You wander around, through the living room and kitchen, down the hallways to the bedrooms. You walk out the back door the patio and small back yard they will likely share with a dog as soon as you can find the right one to gift little Zara and Gil with when they come to visit their father.

There are boxes scattered around all the rooms labeled different things like kitchen, master bed, living room. You step into the bedroom you can only assume to be his and open a box on the top of one of the stacks. There you find a photo album, a familiar faux leather-bound one that you gifted him your senior year of high school, only a quarter of the book filled when you gave it to him after graduation.

Smiling, you sit on the floor, right up against the wall and crack the book open. On the first page is the two of you in freshman year, faces annoyed as your mom had taken pictures of the two of you in front of the school. Another of the two of you gone as Zorro and a witch.

“God, I look so cheesy.” Nick chuckles as he looks over your shoulder and sits down next to you.

“I look like a dollar store, witch.” You scoff.

“I think you were trying to go for the sexy look.” He nudges you.

“Obviously, that didn’t turn out how I expected.” You laugh and turn the page. “Oh wow, homecoming senior year. That was when Ricky Baukins ditched me and you saved me from humiliation.”

“That’s what I’m always here for.” He smiles. “Look, this one is my favorite.”

Nick flips a couple pages until he finds the one he was looking for. It’s a picture of you laying on a couch dead asleep as a little Zara is asleep on you. The two of you looking so peaceful.

“I’ve never seen this picture before.” You smile, caressing the edge of it.

“You would have killed me.” He chuckles.

“You’re right, I probably would have. She was so little then. I remember when you first told me Maria was pregnant. I almost had a heart attack.” You sigh. “And the first time I held Zara. God, I was so proud of you — still am.”

Nick just smiles, staring off at the far corner before standing up and crossing the room toward the door. He just walks out without a word, leaving you sitting there confused before you dive back into the photo album. You flip through dozens of pictures of him with the kids, or the kids together, his work friends, him and you. The last page that you come to has two pictures, both of just you. One on your latest birthday, when he went out with you to the bar. The other picture is of you at what looks to be one of the softball games that Nick played. By the little finger blocking a portion of the picture it looks like it was taken by Zara. You never knew he had these pictures.

“You hungry?” He pops his head in the door. “Because I just ordered some pizza.”

“Extra cheese?” You ask, standing up and gently setting the photo album back into the box.

“Of course.” He chuckles. “You want to help me paint in here?” He steps further inside and holds up a can of paint.

“Sure, let’s get this started.” You nod, pulling your hair into a low ponytail as you walk across the room to open the window, stepping across the mattress on the floor as you do so.

The soft, nature green color of the walls itself nearly transformed the room. The smell of paint still swirls around the room as you push yourself up off the mattress that you fell asleep last night watching the paint dry and eating pizza that had gone cold. Looking around the room, you find that Nick must not have slept in here with you as there is no sign that he had.

“Nick?” You yawn, managing to sleepily stumble through the halls until you find him passed out on the couch, limbs hanging haphazardly off the edges.

You smile, glancing out the back sliding door at the lazy sun, slowly rising to the sky, before turning back around and shuffling back to the bedroom. You pick up a few things, before heading over to where you were asleep to check your phone laying amid the thin blanket. When you lift your phone, it lights up with messages from your boss.

“Damn,” Your chest tightens, knowing well what is sure to come as you lift your phone to your ear, pressing redial.

“Y/l/n! Where are you?” Mr. Brays asks, voice loud and harsh.

“I’m on vacation, remember?” Your voice small and quiet, like all the times he yells at you. Which only happens when he isn’t coming on to you or ‘accidentally’ brushing against your ass or boobs.

“What are you talking about being on vacation? I never approved vacation for you!” He screams back.

Your voice must’ve awoken Nick, because he sleepily walks into the room, yawning and rubbing his eyes that go wide when he sees the tears in them. “What’s wrong?” He mouths, but you just shake your head.

“You approved it three months ago, sir.”

“Well, you are the only fucking person in this damn place that knows how to do their job somewhat correctly. You need to cut your dilly-dallying short and get back here now.” He says as you can hear others talking to him on his end.

“But sir, I can’t just-” You hiccup from the tears as Nick makes his way over.

“I said now!” Mr. Brays yells into the phone as Nick snatches it away from you, bringing it to his ear.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are talking to Y/n like that, but you better fucking learn today to watch what you say,” Nick growls into the phone.

“You’re going to make it worse.” You hiss at him, grabbing the phone back and walking out to the bathroom, before shutting yourself inside. “I’m sorry about that sir.”

“So you skip work to sleep with some guy, is that what’s going on?” He asks, voice even but obviously irritated.

“No sir, not at all. I am helping my friend move to California.”

“Well, you need to get back here now if you want to keep your job, no excuses.” He sounds impatient which is never good, although he is always impatient.

“Yes, sir.”

You walk out of the bathroom and through the hall like a dog that’s just been scolded, tail between its legs and head bowed. Nick stands at the end of the hallway, anger ever resent on his handsome face. His mouth opens, but before he can say anything you speak.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Nick.” You snap, gathering your things.

“Oh, so you are going to let that asshole control you? What happened to being an independent woman, Y/n?” He scoffs.

“What the hell does any of this have to do with being independent? I am relying on myself to get shit done, not my asshole boss that you so eloquently pissed off.” You shove a pair of clothes in your bag. “I am being independent.”

“You aren’t standing up for yourself!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to do it for me, Nick!” You stand up, facing him. Both of your faces red with anger. “You’re making the damn situation worse.”

“I can’t just let him treat you like that.” He defends himself.

“Nick, you’ve never been my boyfriend and fucking me doesn’t make you my boyfriend either, so stop fucking acting like it.” You stare at him, eyes squinted. “Relationships don’t work out for either of us and the common denominator is you, so watch screwing up the rest of my life.

Nick’s jaw clenches, the vein in his head throbbing and hands balled in fists. Nick has always had explosive anger, but never has it been aimed towards you. Right now, it looks like you are about to be given a ticket to your very own showing of a Nick Amaro explosion. Just when you think he is about to open his mouth and rip you a new one, he pushes past you and right out the front door, mumbling something about a walk.

The moment he walks out the door, your anger and frustration take an immediate nosedive. All your emotions his you at once and you call for an Uber through the tears and you pull your bags out the door and sit on the porch to wait. Five minutes away.

_ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _

@sigh-me-a-river​  @kaybee87​  @svucarisiaddict​  @babypink224221​  @sonnysdoll​  @sasbb23​  @encounterthepast​  @breakawayfromeveryday​ @mrsamaroevans​

#Navigating Nick Amaro Series #SVU travel series #Nick Amaro #nick x reader #nick amaro x reader #Danny Pino #law and order svu #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #svu fic #svu

[madsnjay]

1. Therapy

Tom's POV

"Would anyone else like to come up and share? We have a few minutes left of our session." Amanda shares.

"I'd like to step up." Said a voice in the front row. He jumped up on the podium.

"Hi, how's everyone doing? I'm Alex."

"Hi, Alex."

"Well to start off, it's obviously my first time in one of these things. I'm not gonna lie it was kind of rough for me to finally make my way here. I am many things. I'm a liar, I'm a cynic. I'm a sinner, and a saint. A loser, a critic. Honestly, I'm the ghost of my mistakes."

And I thought the musician was dramatic. "I want this one first." I said turning to Jay. "Already on it."

"Well I'm not one to really beat around the bush. I kinda just say it as it is. I know this isn't AA but I have struggled a lot with alcohol. I recently got into an accident because of it, in which ended with my best friend in the hospital. Thankfully he's okay. It fucking sucks that it had to get to that point for me to finally realize I had to fix this problem. I've been sober for almost two weeks now and I'd be lying if I said I haven't been tempted. Every time I let my mind wander I think back to that night. He told me repeatedly he'd drive. He was a lot more sober than I was. He offered to pay for an uber for us. He did all the right things except for one. He decided to get in the car with me. He decided to trust me. That will forever be my greatest regret. I keep thinking 'yeah, I should be laying in that hospital bed. It should be me fighting for my life even though I don't deserve to live'. I take my life for granted. I'd give anything for a bottle to help me forget. He helps me through it all. He's forgiven me. Now it's time for me to learn to forgive myself."

What a load of bullshit. Two weeks sober huh? I bet I can break him.

"Time heals all wounds. We're all hard on ourselves because we know we should've known better. We are all our own worst critic. Thank you so much Alex, we are all here for you and you have our support. And thank you to everyone else who shared today. I'll see you all next week." Amanda says with a bright smile.

We sit and watch everyone make their way to the door. Once everyones gone, I turn to face Jay for a report.

"Alex's story checks out. The only thing I'm curious about is how could his friend have forgiven him if he's in a coma?" She says with a sarcastic grin.

Welcome to the game, Alex.

Jay's POV

Finding Alex was easy, but finding more info on Em was a bit more of a challenge. Usually the damaged like to share more of themselves to try to get others to feel pity. Em was different, and I liked a challenge.

"You ready?" Noel said as he and Cody stood out by the door of the session. When you help one of the town's most feared, you're obviously gonna need some type of protection. As I filled them in on our two newest players, Cody went off to follow up on Alex's unfortunate victim.

"Noel, I'm gonna need you to follow the musician around-"

"Boss says I can't leave you on your own-"

"Yeah? Well I'm your boss, too. And I need you to do this for me. I'll take care of Tom." I said aggravated. He was hesitant at first before he decided to walk off and catch up before she got too far.

Before I decided to walk back into the room with Tom, I felt eyes on me. I turned and seen Alex making direct eye contact from down the hall. Show time.

"Like what you see?" I said with a smirk.

"For the most part."

"Very revealing story there, Alex." I said as I made my way to him.

"Just being honest and open that's all." he said leaning against the wall.  "And since we're being honest and open, how about you let me take you out for some coffee. Unless you got other plans." He said as he looked behind me to see Tom standing down the hall by the door.

"Nope, totally free." I said as I glared at Tom. I love him, but I'm tired of him thinking he can control me. I hate the fact that he knows he has me wrapped around his finger. This is a step I'm taking all on my own, and I'm gonna prove to him that I don't need his white knuckled grasp on me to produce results.

Tom's POV

What in the actual fuck does she think she's doing? Going off with Alex? Alone? She could absolutely blow the entire thing with this idiotic burst of rebellion. And why the fuck did Noel just leave like that? I specifically told him not to leave her alone, and that's exactly what he did. I know she can be persuasive, and honestly downright intimidating sometimes, but orders are orders. She can't be undermining me to my own employees.

As they all walked off in their separate directions, I found myself standing there, unsure of what to do. Before I could give it any more thought, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Amanda, giving a big smile to the last couple of people heading out of the building.

"Tom, let's talk inside." She said as she jerked her head back towards the building. I sighed and turned to follow after her. I need to find out what Jay is up to, but I guess I can't really be seen following them around. Then I'll blow the whole thing. Plus, if she told me to talk inside and I left, she'd have my head displayed on her mantle, and that's not really how I planned to go out if I'm being perfectly honest.

"What's up, A?" I asked as I sat next to her on the back row, throwing my arm over the back of the chair between us and turning to face her.

"We need to talk better strategies. You and Jay have gotten kind of... sloppy lately. You're my number one asset, and I don't want her reckless rebellion interfering with your success." Shit.

"I mean, I'm your only asset but I'll take it," I said with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. She didn't so much as hint at any sort of smile at my lame excuse for a joke. I nervously cleared my throat and continued. "Amanda, I can assure you I have everything under control. We're just going with a... different course of action this time, but I can assure you, everything will go as planned." She seemed pleased with my response, and she confirmed by not pressing the issue anymore.

"So. Who are the new targets?" She always got eager to know who we were going after next. She's a firm believer in ridding the world of the damaged people that damage others. It was almost unsettling how much pleasure she took in our work.

"Definitely Alex. Dude was way too dramatic from the start. Had me at his poetry bullshit before he ever even told his story." She nodded in agreement and looked away in thought.

"So just him? Cody, Jay, and Noel all went off in different directions. Kinda strange for one target, isn't it?" For some reason, I didn't want her to know about the musician yet. I wanna know her full story before I get Amanda involved.

"As of right now, yes. Cody is checking in on Alex's friend to see what's up, and Alex asked Jay to go get coffee with him, so she's gonna try to get more of an inside story from him. Noel is keeping an eye on them from afar." She nodded, hopefully not suspicious of my answer.

"Very well then. Keep up the good work." She said shaking my hand as we both stood up to leave. As I was about to walk out the door, she spoke again stopping me in my tracks. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes ma'am?" I asked turning back, worried she was about to call me out for lying straight to her face. "I'm glad you're on our team." She threw in a small smile at the end, easing my nerves.

"I am too. I really am." I said before I turned and exited the building. Now how the fuck am I gonna handle this whole situation?

Jay's POV

"Pick your poison." He says as we made our way to the register. Poison, not a bad idea. Simple and a hell of a lot less messy.

"Can I get a venti salted caramel cold brew with toffee nut in the foam please?" As I reached for my wallet I felt his hand pull mine away.

"And a black hot coffee for me, both under Alex. Thank you." he said as he handed his card over. A gentleman, kind of a shame. "I asked you out for coffee, my treat. I'm guessing your boy has you fend for yourself a lot huh?"

I really had no idea how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to defend Tom, but the other part of me knows he's kind of right.

"I'll take your silence as an answer," he chuckled. I walked over to a table as he brought over our drinks. "Speaking of, what's the deal with you two? Trouble in paradise?"

"He's no one you really have to worry about. We're just really good friends." I said as I take a drink.

"That's good to know, now this all doesn't have to be too awkward."

"Were you worried?" I said with a big grin.

"A little, it's just the way he watches you. Like he's waiting for you to slip away."

"He has no hold on me." I said with a reassuring smile.

"So, you know a little bit of my story. What's yours?"

"Well, I have a habit of collecting damaged people. I seem to gravitate to it apparently." I say as I take another sip.

"So what are you after? Some kind of disaster?"

"Damage attracts damaged."

He smiles as he takes a drink. "Well, then I think this could be good for us. Help fix each other."

Sure, help me.

#tom holland #cody ko #noel miller #alex gaskarth #jack barakat #all time low #tiny meat gang #tom holland fanfiction #cody ko fanfic #noel miller fanfic #alex gaskarth fanfic #jack barakat fanfic #all time low fanfic #tiny meat gang fanfic

[rapperkookz]

Rush!BTΣ — college!au, borderline crack au w/ @cynoirsure

a story about three friends and their obstacles of relationships, academic probation, and figuring out that international kids aren’t all that bad.

31/35

word count: 1.4k genre: the fluffiest —

Your POV

“Hang out with your Big Bro,” Jimin whined tugging on your arm. The both of you just got out of your biochem final and he wanted to celebrate surviving another year of nursing.

“Oppa, I’m hanging out with Kook,” You said with an apologetic smile. He pouted and crossed his arms, feigning a teardrop. “I get it, boyfriend over big bro.”

You rolled your eyes, he was so dramatic sometimes. “I promise after your finals tomorrow, I’ll treat you out to whatever you want. My mom just reloaded my card.”

“I love you y/n,” he grinned pinching your cheek. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm, it’s on the way to Joon hyung’s.”

--

You whistled as you made your way to the fourth floor, stopping in front of Jungkook’s room. You knocked twice before walking in, already knowing that his door was unlocked. His head turned at your arrival, smiling at the sight of you. “Hey beautiful.”

Your nose scrunched at the compliment, “Why are you so cheesy? I look absolutely disgusting today.”

He chuckled, the sound resonating from his chest, “That’s impossible. You done for the day?”

You nodded and eased yourself into his arms, proceeding to tell him about your exam. He listened intently, his hand stroking your hair as you talked. “-but enough about school, I just wanna be here with you.”

Jungkook smiled softly, pressing his lips against your temple. “The whole night is ours babe, what do you want to do?”

You shrugged letting yourself relax in his presence, your mind in a state a tranquility. Only Jungkook could make you feel so secure even after a day of pure stress. His fingers moved from stroking your hair to rubbing your side, the gentle sensation making you squirm, laughing in his hold. “Kook stop!”

His eyes disappeared as he attacked your sides, your laughter music to his ears. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as Jungkook kept tickling you, your stomach starting to hurt from the screaming and laughing. You tried to grab his wrists, but his strength of course overpowered yours, and you were left underneath the boy, your arms pinned to your sides as he hovered above you.

Usually this position was sexual and intense for the both of you, but in this moment it was intimate and close to innocent. He lowered his face so that you were only mere centimeters apart. You could smell the hint of ramen from his breath, giggling at how typical he was. He moved his nose back and forth between yours, his sparkling eyes locking your gaze. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you were positive he could hear your heartbeat from this position, the thumping loud in your ears. You smiled and puckered your lips for a kiss, the boy smiling as he cupped your cheeks, “God, you’re so fucking cute, y/n.”

You smiled into the kiss, your lips moving perfectly in sync. Jungkook started peppering kisses along your jaw and all over your face, pulling you up and onto his lap. He hummed swaying you side to side, “Let’s hang out here in your room babe.”

He nodded, his chin lightly digging into your shoulder, “We can have that Avengers movie marathon so that I can finally prove to you that Marvel is the better franchise.”

“Hm you can try, babe.” You teased pecking his nose, “Can we also order food? I’m starving.”

“Already have uber eats pulled up,” He said pulling out his phone. Jungkook’s playlist sounded from his speakers as the both of you started to clean up his room a little, setting up for the upcoming hours of your movie night. Jungkook announced that he was going to get the food from the lobby, leaving you alone in his room for a short while. One of your favorite songs sounded from the speaker, your body instinctively singing and moving to the beat. Too caught up in your jam session - and because Jungkook’s speaker was relatively loud -  you missed your boyfriend re enter his room.

Jungkook locked the door and placed the carryout bag on his desk. The corner of his lips perked up as he watched you sing while you tidied up his bed. He crossed his arms waiting anxiously for the climax of the song, itching to hear you belt out. Ever since the a capella group rejection, you hid your voice frequently, and Jungkook longed to make you sing with no restraints again.

As soon as the bridge finished, Jungkook let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. You turned around startled, putting a hand to your chest, “Shit, how long were you there?”

“Since the second verse,” He said pulling you in with a proud smile, “That was good!”

You shook your head, “it was too weak, my voice sucks.”

“y/n, no it doesn’t.” Jungkook frowned, “Your voice is amazing and you need to showcase it more.”

“Only you think that.”

“Listen, Jihoon’s a cappella group is stupid for not accepting you. That doesn’t mean that you have a terrible voice.” He said trying to lift your spirits, “C’mon, let’s get your mind off of this and start this movie marathon.”

He grabbed the food from his desk and joined you on the bed, getting ready to dig in while you streamed Netflix on his game monitor. You played the first Avengers movie, pecking his cheek as you put his controller on the other side of the bed. He grinned and put his arm around you, popping a roll of sushi in his mouth. The first ten minutes of the movie were peaceful, until Jeon Jungkook decided to whisper slyly in your ear,

“You’re hotter than Black Widow.”

“Shut up, Jeon” You laughed and covered his face with your hands. “I thought you wanted to have a movie marathon,”

“I do, but it’s hard to just watch the movie when my girlfriend is turning me on.”

“I’m not even doing anything!” You scoffed hitting his stomach. He mumbled a ‘you don’t have to’ as he started sucking lightly on your neck. You sighed, feeling yourself getting weak at his charms. Whining, you held onto his hand which was slowly inching down your stomach, “I at least want to watch Thor’s entrance.”

Jungkook chuckled in minor defeat and sat upright, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he began to pay attention to the movie once more. You stole glances at him every now and then, finding Jungkook’s inner fan as he excitedly commented on the scenes. He squeezed you particularly tight when the founding Avengers gathered in New York City for the climax of the fight. His eyes were wide as they focused on the screen, as if this was the first time he’s ever seen the movie.

You smiled and cuddled into his side, the movie soon coming to an end. The boy reached over for his controller as soon as the credits started rolling, announcing that he was playing the next movie. You hummed in agreement and began to trace the outlines of his stomach, the motion calming both you and him. Lifting your chin up with his finger, he held your gaze, a soft smile on his lips. “You okay, y/n?”

You nodded, “I just really enjoy this right now.”

“Me too.”

The both of you were silent for a moment, the conversation only between your eyes. He held so much emotion in his brown orbs, you didn’t even need him to tell you how he felt. You just knew. “I’m really grateful that you’re in my life, Kook. I can’t even imagine how things would have been if I didn’t get close to you this year.”

Jungkook cupped one of your cheeks in his hand, his thumb stroking your skin gently, “I love you y/n, I’m grateful I got close to you as well.”

“I love you too.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist for a tight hug, the scent of vanilla, pear, and gardenia intoxicating your senses. God you were so in love with him. Pulling away, he gave you his usual boyish smile, kissing you sweetly as he grabbed the controller again. “Let’s stay like this and watch the next one, and then we’ll have some fun. What do you say babe?”

Your stomach jumped as he winked at you, “Let’s do it.”

6-13-19

#rush!bts au #bts #collab! #bts college au #bts crack #bts social media au #bangtan boys #bangtan #beyond the scene #bts au #bts snaps #bts scenarios #bts edits #bts fluff #bts fake twitter #bts fake tweets #bts fake snaps #bts fake instagram #bts fake texts #bts texts #kim namjoon #namjoon #kim seokjin #seokjin #min yoongi #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #park jimin #jimin

[cleareyesfullheartscantlose]

8/29/18 A year ago today

A year ago today I met you. A year ago today I was texting my friends about how nervous I was, asking them “are you sure I’m ready for this?” A year ago today I spent way too long getting ready and was late to our first date. Well it wasn’t a date. You insisted and made it abundantly clear it was a friendly hang. We of course debated about this later and we decided it technically counted as our first date. A year ago today I strolled into paradise park. God I was so fucking sweaty. Like the definition of sweaty. I was so nervous. Would you be pretty? Would I be pretty enough? A year ago today I glanced across the bar and then the seats just Searching. Looking for someone who’d maybe be different than everyone I’ve liked or loved before. And then I saw you. You. And I remember thinking “God she is gorgeous, I really hope that’s her.” A year ago today I texted you just to be sure it was. And as soon as you picked up your phone and I realized that it in fact was you....that’s the moment I started and wouldn’t stop smiling about you for next 5 months. A year ago today we talked about the weather. I nervously rambled and kept the conversation going. You laughed at mostly everything I said and we talked effortlessly. A year ago today we accidentally got drunk on a Tuesday. I made jokes about taking notes about you because I wanted to remember it all 📝 We ordered too many drinks because we were both nervous and we didn’t order any food because I liked you and was too nervous to eat. A year ago today I went swimming in those icy blue eyes. A year ago today I asked if you wanted to keep the night going and you to my surprise said “Yes.” A year ago today, I pretended like I was a veteran of Wicker Park to look cool talking about this bar and that. A year ago today we sat down at a dive bar that played vinyl and you sat closer to me, where I toyed with the idea that you might actually like me. A year ago today I flirted with you, and you flirted back. The last time I did that was 3 years prior. A year ago today we had one more drink before I walked you to the Blue line. You had to let your dogs out, and although you wanted to stay longer, you couldn’t do that to them for any longer. God, I like this girl. A year ago today we awkwardly said goodbye under the blue line tracks. I saw in your eyes and knew you wanted to kiss me, but I doubted myself and hugged you instead. I told you to text me when you were home safe, and you told me that you liked a girl that cares. A year ago today i climbed in my uber and I texted my friends saying “I think it went well....I hope it went well. I was myself, what more could I do.” A year ago today you texted me that you had a great time, and you couldn’t wait to do it again. A year ago today I asked you if it was going to be hang out or date and you said “definitely a date :)”

A year ago today You liked me. You really liked me. A year ago today I thought so much was possible with you. A year ago today I don’t remember a moment I didn’t smile after our first date.

11.5 months ago you kissed me. I was rambling because I was so nervous because I knew it was coming. “I like me better when I’m with you” played in the background. 11.5 months ago you did that thing where you bit and sucked on my lower lip and it drove me crazy for the months to come. It still does.

11 months ago we had the best date I’ve ever planned. You kicked my ass at every game at emporium and I remember thinking “I think I’ve finally met my match.” 11 months ago I had the confidence to hold your hand in public. 11 months ago I pushed you against that brick wall and kissed you for 2 hours. I never wanted that date to end.

10 months ago you wanted me. ME. 10 months ago we couldn’t keep our hands and lips off each other. 10 months ago I listed to Bazzi “Mine” on repeat because you were mine.

9 months ago I asked you if you were falling for me, and you said yes. You tried to take it back but I wouldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you. 9 months ago I acted like I wasn’t, but I lied. I was scared you were like her. I was scared if I said it and when I said it, it would be taken away. I asked you first because I needed to know it was real. I really believed it was.

8 months ago we became official and right after we got in a car accident. That fucking car accident. It was my fault. I distracted you. I was stupid in love and serenading you and you weren’t paying attention. 8 months ago a bus hit us head on. 8 months ago everything changed.

7 months ago I noticed something was....off. I asked you what was wrong and You told me it was nothing. you were just off and shaken still from the accident. You also told me that sometimes your depression throws you off but you’d take care of it.

6 months ago was the last time you really made love to me and meant it. It was St Patrick’s day and I met your friends. We had the best day. I was so scared to do PDA and had never wanted you so bad. 6 months ago you climbed in bed and made love to me and I loved you in that moment with every fiber in me. I have never felt more connected and intwined with someone’s emotions like I felt with you. 6 months ago I held you and never wanted to let go. I wish I never did.

5 months ago we went to San Diego hoping this would fix things that felt off. We explored and laughed and flirted....but then we fought. Bad. I said the first set of words I’d regret. “I want to say I’m in love with you, but How can I tell you I’m in love with you when you treat me the way you do and you don’t let me in completely.” We both cried that night. 5 months ago my resentment started.

4 months ago your depression and our fighting got worse. I realized walls were built and I was too stupid to realize it. You stopped touching me. You stopped talking to me. You kept telling me That you’d figure it out but healing takes time and your depression is a rough one but apart of you. 4 months ago I started going to therapy again asking her “what more can I do to be a better partner for her.” 4 months ago you said it was your problem and I needed to “be patient and wait.”

3 months ago I broke up with you. The second thing I most regret. I asked you for non negotiables and you said no. 3 months ago I asked you about a future us and what that looked like and you said “ I don’t know.” I asked you about summer and you said “ I can’t answer that.” 3 months ago you told me that you were seeing your ex on mondays because of school and it was triggering you and I tried to help and support. 3 months ago you yelled at me because I’m not listening and it’s not my problem. You got up from our conversation and walked away to clean. 3 months ago I walked out and drove off because you walked away from the conversation. You tried to stop me but I kept walking and sobbed the whole way home. 3 months ago I tried to take it back and you told me “it’s hard to see a future when You aren’t out yet.”

2 months ago I came out for me but also for you. You helped me so much with this. I wanted to be able to bring around my girlfriend but...you weren’t my girl friend anymore. 2 months ago we tried to make love but it wasn’t...it was the opposite. I hated myself after that. I could tell that the love wasn’t there in that moment. I could tell you resented me in that moment although you’ll never admit it. 2 months ago I kissed you as fireworks went off in my neighborhood. I was out and I never felt so free in that moment with you. This is the last time I kissed you and you kissed me back and meant it. 2 months ago I tried to plan a date and thought you were backing out but and I snapped. I said horrible things that I’ll never forgive myself for. 2 months ago you cut yourself again because of words that I said. I showered you with words made of knives. 2 months ago you ghosted me for 4 days and I lost my absolute shit. I contemplated killing myself. Before I never had a plan but I just sat at the lake and truly thought of ways to go. 2 months ago I showed up at your house because you never texted back like you said you would. You said that all we could be was friends for now. That you couldn’t be in a relationship if you wanted to get back to being the best you. 2 months ago you didn’t come to my birthday. I begged you and you said no. I cried myself to sleep that night and every night this summer.

1 month ago I asked you if you still were in love with me and you said no. 1 month ago I realized it was actually over and I felt broken like I did when she broke me. I lost you and I lost myself by loving you.

2 weeks ago I picked up my stuff from your place. We talked and laughed and cried together for an hour. I apologized and asked you “are you sure.” You told me you didn’t know what you wanted out of life but you told me being in a relationship isn’t something that you could be in right now. You needed to work on yourself. 2 weeks ago was and will be the last time I see you.

4 days ago I found pictures of you and your person. 4 days ago I realized that person isn’t me anymore. 4 days ago I got angry. I don’t get angry. I was So angry I cried and had a panic attack at school. 4 days ago I questioned everything and who you really are. 4 days ago I realized you are a coward and liar. 4 days ago I realized you don’t and won’t care about me ever again. 4 days ago I felt hurt and disrespected by you. 4 days ago I questioned the past 12 months of us. Was it real? Did you actually love me and feel things for me? 4 days ago my therapist told me that what I felt was real. That’s something I guess.

Today would’ve been our 1 year anniversary. I had our one year anniversary date planned out for months. I would’ve taken you back to where we first met. I was going to recreate our first date. This time I would’ve kissed you proudly under those blue line tracks because I’m out and was proud you were my girl and I was yours.

1 year ago I had so many hopes for you and I after that first date. Honestly, looking back at this year makes me so incredibly sad because now I don’t even know what was real about it when it comes to you.

I miss you. Every moment of every day I think about you and miss you. I loved you so much Rach. I really did. The worst part is that I still do. I love you in that unconditional, it’s never going to go away kind of love. I know I snapped but I tried so hard to be the best person I could be for you. I tried this entire year to prove my worth to you. I never gave up on us and I loved ever part of us. The good and even when it got bad. I know I broke up with you but I never actually wanted to. I lost myself by loving you and giving you everything I had.

You promised me you’d never do what she did, but in the end you did exactly that. You stopped loving me. You made me feel worthless. You broke me and then replaced me and lied saying that you needed to focus on you. I gave you my best why did I not get the best of you. Why did you give up on me? Why did you stop trying? Why did I pour my entire heart into you and you not care in the end.

Why am I not good enough for you?

I hope she makes you happy like I failed to. I hope you got yourself healthy before you jumped into it with her. I hope that the problems with Abby and now me don’t happen with this new girl. I really hope and pray you find happiness in this life.

I thought you were it for me. I would’ve given you all of me if it meant keeping you and making you happy. But I’m not And was never going to be that person for you was I? I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I walked away. I broke that promise. That was your non negotiable.

So much has happened in one year. But the biggest realIzation or takeaway is that a year ago we were strangers and a year ago we are strangers again. I thought I had you all figured out Rach. I’ve mean I kept noted for fucks sake. But I don’t know who you are anymore. I don’t think I ever really did and don’t think I ever really will. And honestly, I don’t think you know who you are either.

I pray you figure it out. I wish every night you get to be the best you. I only want and hope the best for you because I still care and will always love you. I’m just really sad and sorry the best version of you was never going to end up with the best version of me.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 34 - 37

Because Chapter 38 is a... doozy, today we’’ll be covering some extra chapters. My treat.

She was a liar, and a murderer, and a thief, and Aelin had a feeling she’d be called much worse by the end of this war.

Pfft, I’ve called her worse during these chapter reviews.

Securing this alliance was only part of it. The other part, the bigger part … was the message. Not to Morath. But to the world.

“I mean yeah innocent people might die but who cares I just want attention from the whole world because I’m so ~special~ lol!”

[Aelin] was not a rebel princess, shattering enemy castles and killing kings. She was a force of nature. She was a calamity and a commander of immortal warriors of legend.

No, you’re a selfish asshole who cares only about herself and throws tantrums whenever someone doesn’t immediately bow down to you. Also, love that final nail in the coffin to the original concept of t0g. May the first two books rest in peace.

Gavriel was still too busy staring after Aedion, who hadn’t so much as glanced at his father before fastening his shield and sword across his back, mounting a sorry-looking mare, and galloping for the watchtower.

I S2G SJM, leave Gav alone.

People were panicking in the streets as the dark force took shape on the horizon: massive ships with black sails, converging on the bay as if they were indeed carried on a preternatural wind.

See Alien you fuckin’ prick, innocent people live here!!! And you’re totally okay with them all dying if it means everyone knows what an uber powered snowflake you are you piece of shit!!!!!

Rowan’s hatchet gleaming while he hooked it at his side

Again, total nit pick, but.. why do both Lorcan and Rowboat use hatchets? I mean it’s totally okay, I love other kinds of weapons getting used other than swords, but they both have hatchets? Let’s get some battle axes, maces, and other cool weapons in here!

Aelin strode for them. “Anchor them to the mainmast and make sure there’s enough room for them to reach right … here.” She pointed to where she now stood in the heart of the deck. Enough space clear of everyone, enough space for her and Rowan to work.

I’d point out she doesn’t have authority here, Rolfe does because it’s on his ship, but I might as well talk to a wall. Alien is putting the iron there in order to steady herself while using her magic, FYI. She has so much snowflake power she literally needs restrains lmfao SJM you’re killing me.

[Aelin] flicked a glance toward either watchtower to see Dorian arrive—then Aedion’s golden hair racing up the outer spiral staircase to the enormous mounted harpoon at the top. Her heart strained for a moment as she flashed between now and a time when she’d seen Sam running up those same stairs— not to defend this town, but to wreck it.

I despise Alien but the callback here works pretty well. Whereas back then, Alien was wrecking this town, she is now defending it, even without Sam at her side which highlights how much has changed and how much she’s gone through since her previous visit here. I mean, she is also the reason this town is in danger, but regardless.

Lysandra jumps into the sea and transforms into a sea dragon. I’ve already complained about her OP shifting powers, but I’ll admit, this scene is pretty cool.

Lysandra dove, and she let them see the long, powerful body that broke the surface bit by bit as she plunged down, her jade scales gleaming like jewels in the blinding midday sun. See the legend straight from their prophecies: the Mycenians would only return when the sea dragons did. And so Aelin had ensured that one appeared right in their gods-damned harbor.

Like c’mon, that’s pretty bad ass. Lysandra is a cool character in spite of her shitty powers, and that’s really only the fault of SJM’s crappy magic system. We transition into Assdion’s POV.

Aedion chucked off the shield from his back and slammed into the seat before the giant iron harpoon, its length perhaps a hand taller than him, its head bigger than his own.

So like.... a harpoon cannon, essentially? Because those were invented in the late 19th century. Consistent world building who?

Well, at least [Aedion] now knew what secret form Lysandra had been working on. And why Aelin had insisted on getting inside Brannon’s temple. Not just to see the king, not just to reclaim the city for the Mycenians and Terrasen, but … for Lysandra to study the life-size, detailed carvings of those sea dragons. To become a living myth.

How does this make any sense?? So Lysandra can perfectly replicate the system, the anatomy, and the size and powers of a beast by looking at a drawing of it? The fuck??? She doesn’t even need to see it in real life?

Gonna pull from Animorphs again; the kids have to see the animal in real life and actually touch it to absorb its DNA. They can’t turn into animals they haven’t touched even if they know what they look like. This makes sense in a sci-fi fantasy setting. Lysandra’s shifting powers do not.

Lysandra had studied the carvings of the sea dragons at the temple, once Aelin had burned away the dirt on them. Her magic had filled in gaps the carvings didn’t show. Like the nostrils that picked apart each scent on the current, the ears that unraveled varying layers of sound.

HOW DOES MAGIC DO THAT??? We’ve received several hints magic is its own sentient being but it’s never explained or expanded upon?? Lysandra’s magic is only as old as her, how can it know all these details about a beast she’s never seen? SJM I’m not asking for an amazing magic system, I just want things to be consistent and make sense!

Next chapter!

Perched on the rail of the Sea Dragon, gripping the rope ladder flowing from the looming mast, Aelin savored the cooling spindrift that sprayed her face as the ship plowed through the waves.

Even though the sudden pirate and adventures on the seas element is... well, sudden, I’m all for it. Gimmie some awesome pirate battles!

Tightly grasping the rope, Aelin leaned out, the vibrant blue and white below passing in a swift blur. Not too fast, she’d told Rowan. Don’t waste your strength—you barely slept last night. He’d just leaned in to nip at her ear before sliding onto Gavriel’s bench to concentrate.

You’re in a battle. You’re sailing into almost certain death. Can you not be fucking horny for five seconds please I am b egging. Why couldn’t he have done something pure and sweet like a kiss on the cheek?? Why does everything have to be ~sexual~, SJM?

Aelin again looked ahead—toward those black sails blotting the horizon. The Wyrdkey at her chest murmured in response.

You know what? I’ll take this over “The Wyrdkey between her breasts” any day.

Alien puts on the iron chain to restrain her magic. Rowboat kisses her ass for a bit, then we get this.

“I’ve recovered, I’ll have you know. So this morning’s little display…” “A way to take off the power’s full edge,” [Aelin] said wryly. “And make Rolfe piss himself.”

I hate you.

[Aelin] lifted her head to study [Rowan’s] face, the harsh planes and the curving tattoo. He leaned in to brush a kiss to her mouth.

If Ratlin starts making out during this battle I am actually going to quit. No joke. I’m warning you, SJM.

All anyone on deck saw, she knew, was two lovers embracing. But Aelin tunneled down, down, down into her power, felt him doing the same with his, felt every ounce of ice and wind and lightning go slamming from him into her. And when it reached her, the core of his power yielded to her own, melted and became embers and wildfire.

The actual reason SJM didn’t make a magic system was so she could pull this and justify her OTP making out in the middle of a battlefield. You cannot convince me otherwise.

[Aelin’s] magic whispered to start digging through that ash and silt. But Rowan’s grip tightened on her waist. “Easy,” he murmured in her ear. “Easy.”

If this was a ship I actually liked I’d be living because I love the “loved one helps protag with their uncontrollable magic” thing, but I hate Rowboat and Alien. I can’t even win when SJM uses my favorite tropes.

Alien shits out a huge column of fire out after Rowboat lends her his magic.

Aelin was ripped from his arms with the force of it, and Rowan grabbed her hand in a crushing grip, refusing to let her break that line of contact. Men around them stumbled back, falling onto their asses as they gawked upward in terror and wonder.

Higher, that column of flame swirled, a maelstrom of death and life and rebirth.

Oh my god I get it, Alien is the most powerful snowflake ever

So apparently this fire shit isn’t even burning or attacking their enemies, it’s literally just a display to the world. So Alien is burning (no pun intended) all of her magic just for a pretty fire display for everyone to fear how ~special~ she is? Holy shit. People actually stan this shitstain.

The flames winked out at the same second [Aelin] reached into Rowan with burning hands and tore the last remnants of his power from him. Just as she ripped her hand from his. Just as her power and the Wyrdkey between her breasts merged.

JHNDSJKAHDSKAHDKAHDSAJ SJM STOP YOU FUCKING HORNY ASSHOLE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU CANNOT WRITE AN EPIC MOMENT OF YOUR PROTAG DISPLAYING HER MOST POWERFUL MAGIC AND THEN STOP TO FOCUS ON HER BOOBIES FOR NO REASON KAHFKHSKFHDSJKFHKSD

So apparently Alien gets possessed because she was wearing the Wyrdkey. Idiot, why’d you go and do that, then? So who is possessing her?

“Deanna,” Rowan whispered. [Possessed Aelin] flicked her eyes to him in question and confirmation.

So for those who didn’t know, Deanna is a goddess mentioned in some of the other books. So the gods have gone from actual gods that were briefly mentioned to spirits who can possess people.... huh.

We switch into Alien’s POV again as she is unable to do anything while Deanna struts around in her body.

And those flames—her flames and her beloved’s magic … they belonged to the Other now. To a goddess who had walked through the temporary gate hanging between her breasts and seized her body as if it were a mask to wear.

Okay, guys, can we be completely honest with each other here? Tumblr user to Tumblr user? Does this bother anyone else?

Am I over reacting? Because I find it completely undercuts the tension of the moment when I’m suddenly forced to picture a Wyrdkey jammed in between Alien’s boobies. IDK maybe I’m just going crazy after being exposed to this book.

Alien busts a nut after hearing Rowboat’s voice and it’s enough for her to gain the willpower and strength to kick Deanna out. Not enough for her to not immediately fuck everything up though.

The ship beneath her, the center and left flank of the dark fleet beyond her, and the outer edge of the island behind it blew apart in a storm of fire and ice.

God job, Alien! If any innocent people died it’s all on you. Fuck you.

My god. We’re only on chapter 36. I... I’m going to break.....

Aelin drifted down, as she had drifted into her power, the weight of the Wyrdkey around her neck like a millstone— Deanna. She didn’t know how, didn’t know why— The Queen Who Was Promised.

Hm.. that sounds familiar.... lemmie just Google it to see if-

INCH RESTING...

Didn’t SJM once claim she hated Game of Thrones? Lmfao she’s so full of shit.

What had she done what had she done what had she done—

Later. Later, [Aelin]’d deal with that rutting goddess who had thought to use her like some temple priestess. Later, she’d contemplate how she’d shred through every world to find Deanna and make her pay.

Okay, but.. is this just Alien fuming or can she, like, actually do that? What are the gods in this world? Are they just spirits who can teleport between worlds I’m?? so confused???

Fenrys takes Alien, since she’s such an idiot who couldn’t save herself from drowning in a puddle, and jumps from the remainders of Rolfe’s ship. Good fucking job, Alien. Can’t wait to see how the narrative justifies this.

Think of that later. Aelin shoved through and ducked under larger bits of debris, past… Past men. Rolfe’s men. Dead in the water. Was the captain among them somewhere?

She doesn’t even give a shit she killed dozens, maybe even more, of innocent people on her side! But I have no doubt she’ll angst about it later but only so Rowboat can fuck her and convince her it’s not her fault even though it fucking is.

While Alien is busy wailing for someone to comfort her poor feefees, Lysandra actually makes an effort to save Rolfe and his first mate even though the sea wyverns are an issue.

Blood laced the current. And not the puffs that had been staining the water since the ship exploded. Great, roiling clouds of blood. As if massive jaws clamped around a body and squeezed.

Ain’t that edgy. We all know SJM is gonna forget all this gore and death took place once the porn kicks in.

[Lysandra] was so tired. Shifting afterward might not even be possible for a few hours.

So amassing the power to shift into a huge ass dragon doesn’t tire you out.... but destroying a few ships with your dragon form. Okay, SJM, okay.

tl;dr Lysandra kills the two sea wyverns and the chapter ends. One more to go for this review... one more....

Assdion’s POV opens up this chapter, where it’s revealed the two sea wyverns Lysandra killed were just juveniles, and there are three adults.

Faster and faster, those three bulls closed in. Lysandra remained at the mouth of the bay. Holding the line.

Even though her magic pisses me off, I think I’m about to stan Lysandra. Here she is, weakened with no magic left, and she’s willing to make a final stand and protect her friends.

The three wyverns spread out, so huge Aedion’s throat went dry. And for the first time, he hated his cousin. He hated Aelin for asking this of Lysandra, both to defend them and to secure the Mycenians to fight for Terrasen.

WHAT THE FUCK??? ASSDION NOT PRAISING ALIEN’S EVERY ACTION???? This can’t be right. This can’t be the Assdion who is only a plot device to kiss Alien’s ass...

Lysandra destroys the last warship and traps one of the wyverns into impaling himself on the remains. Then she leads the other two near Dorian’s tower, where he freezes one of them.

Dorian loosed a battle cry. And Aedion had to admit the king wasn’t that useless after all as the catapult behind Dorian sprang free, and a rock the size of a wagon jettisoned into the bay

Lmao bitch you thought! You've literally done nothing this battle while Dorian is out here killing a sea wyvern so you can climb off your high horse, Assdion. Also, Lysandra loses sight of the final wyvern.

Aedion scanned the bay, rotating in the gunner chair as he did, searching for any hint of that colossal dark shadow— “YOUR LEFT!” Gavriel roared across the bay, magic no doubt amplifying his voice.

Hate when dialogue is typed in all caps. Also magic can now be used as a megaphone? Lmfao aiight.

“SWIM,” Aedion roared, even if she couldn’t hear. “SWIM, LYSANDRA!”

Assdion doesn’t even have Gav’s megaphone magic powers, so you have no excuse for this shit, SJM.

Lysandra swims for the beach and Assdion rushes to her while everyone celebrates. This is a good concept, so like, can anyone write this but with a good ship? Might have to make a self indulgent AU for one of my ships just to scrub away the filth of this novel.

“Open your gods-damned eyes,” Aedion snarled. [Lysandra] snarled back but cracked open an eye. “You made it this far. Don’t die on the rutting beach.” The eye narrowed—with a hint of female temper.

Why the fuck is temper gendered now? SJM, you saying a woman’s temper is somehow different than a man’s? You implyin’ all women have bad tempers and they should be shamed for it? What the fuck is the point of this?

Aedion drawled, even as his relief began to crumble his mask of arrogant calmness, “The useless sentries in the watchtower are now all half in love with you,” he lied. “One said he wanted to marry you.”

Uh... why you lyin’ Assdion? I think he’s trying to compliment her, but this is kinda weird?

“But you know what I told them? I said that they didn’t stand a chance in hell.” Aedion lowered his voice, holding her pained, exhausted stare. “Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “One day. I am going to marry you. I’ll be generous and let you pick when, even if it’s ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.”

FUCK I would like (some of) this scene if it wasn’t for Assdion..... Someone rewrite this but with a good ship please.

Those eyes narrowed—in what he could only call female outrage and exasperation.

... I’m done. We’re packing this chapter up.

Alien and the others show up and Assdion realizes that Alien used the Wyrdkey and nearly killed all of them. He’s understandably mad but criticism against Alien? Rowboat’s Fae peen says no!

[Assdion] was shaking now, that rage indeed taking over. But Rowan snarled at him, low and vicious, “Save it for later.”

Oh fuck you, Rowboat. You know damn well you’ll never let anyone criticize Alien. This entire fucking narrative sucks up to Alien so much and I’m pissed. If your characters make stupid ass mistakes, punish them for it! Let them know! Don’t pretend they’re perfect uwuu unproblematic babies and let others criticize them without being portrayed as villains for it GOD I’M SO FUCKING DONE

As if SJM is trying to throw me a bone, there’s this.. actually decent scene afterwards. Gav watches Assdion as he watches over Lysandra until she has the energy to shift back. SJM refers to Assdion/Gav as the Wolf and the Lion though, gets kinda repetitive.

Sand crusted [Lysandra’s] naked body, and she tried and failed to rise. The Wolf moved then, slinging his cloak around her and sweeping her into his arms. The shifter didn’t object, and her eyes were again closed by the time the Wolf began striding up the beach to the trees, her head leaning against his chest.

In a better world where Assdion wasn’t an ass to Lysandra and he was a good character... I would ship this. Fuck. Just gonna go casually write this scene but with one of my OTPs  so I can get this sweet gesture without Assdion’s shitty personality.

The Lion remained out of sight and held in the offer of help. Held in the words he needed to say to the Wolf, who had downed a sea-wyvern with one arrow. Twenty-four years old and already a myth whispered over campfires.

Fuck... the way Gav describes his son as an outsider, since Assdion hasn’t accepted him yet... it’s really good. I love this. Damnit why can’t the rest of the novel be like this?

If you guys thought these chapters were bad, buckle up. Because the next chapter is the long dreaded it.

Yup, next time we’re covering the Ratlin sex scene.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti eos #anti tog