#skye talkin shit*

[entiish]

generally curious / throwing it out there ... ( & bc @slaterherms​ said so and i trust him more than myself in this regard tbQh ) would anyone be interested in dash icon commissions ?   examples of ones i’m currently using / have recently used for myself r below the cut   ily folks 🫶🏾 be well and blessed

#skye talkin shit* #rp resources

[toournextadventure]

movie night drabble i

Summary: The ever elusive Tara Carpenter finally makes her appearance at your brother's frat party. Maybe you'll kiss. Okay, you'll definitely kiss.

Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, underage drinking, slight violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader A/N: I got a little more goofy with R in this one because I wanted to try something a little different with my writing, so I hope y'all enjoy! movie night i | movie night ii | movie night iii

"Hey," your brother Alfie shouted over the music blaring throughout the frat house. "Carpenter's here."

You turned so quickly you spilled the vodka from your cup onto your shirt.

"Ah fuck," you mumbled, dropping the now-empty cup without a care in the world. Not like it was your frat house, why should you keep it clean?

You promptly bent down to pick it back up. Your Ma raised you better than that.

"Where is she?" You asked, once again searching for any sign of the younger Carpenter girl.

"You don't see her?" He was teasing you. It was evident by the stupid, smug look on his ugly mug.

"She's 5 foot nothin’, no I don't see her," you argued back.

“Over there,” Alfie pointed, and you followed his finger as best as you could.

“Where are you pointing your crooked ass finger?” You asked.

“See Frankie?” He asked in frustration. As if it was your fault he had crooked, broken fingers. “She’s talkin’ to him.”

“Ah shit,” you mumbled when you spotted Frankie and, finally, Tara. “Take my cup.”

You didn’t wait for him to agree before shoving the cup into his arms and making your way through the crowded frat house. As much as you wanted to see Tara, you didn’t want to see her with fucking Frankie. No one was worse than that prick. You and Alfie were pricks too, but at least you both stayed respectful. Frankie just wanted to get his rocks off with whatever girl gave him the chance.

Unfortunately, it looked like Tara might be that girl.

He was standing a little too close for comfort by the time you finally shoved your way past everyone. That annoying little voice in your head reminded you that Tara wasn’t yours and you had no right to her. And that voice was correct! But that didn’t mean you were going to stand aside and let fucking Frankie get his greasy hands on her.

“Hey Frankie,” you said with an obnoxious smile and a painfully hard clap on his shoulder. “How ya doin’?”

“Hey,” he said without even looking at you.

“Hi Tara,” you said far softer and with a much more genuine smile. At least you hoped it was, you were starting to feel a bit of that vodka settling in.

Tara opened her mouth to answer before being cut off by Frankie. “Need something?”

Think of something good.

“Yeah, actually,” you said with a shrug, “but we might wanna talk in private.”

“Just tell me now, Street Rat,” he said quickly. “I’m busy.”

Think of something good.

“It’s just,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure you get yourself checked out, man.”

“For what?”

“I was just talking with Skye earlier and she said she got the clap,” you said with a shrug. “I know you two are fuck buddies so you should probably watch out.”

“You serious?” He asked, suddenly standing up and looking far more furious as he crushed his beer in his hand.

“I’m doin’ you a solid, man-”

“-you gonna say this shit in front of Carpenter?” He asked, now standing toe-to-toe with you. Admittedly you may have underestimated his reaction to such a ploy. Should’ve come up with something less good.

“Dude chill, I told you we should talk in private-”

“-didn’t tell me it was about the fucking clap.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be tryin’ to fuck every girl that looks at you.”

You heard the crack below your eye before you felt it, a painful punch spiderwebbing across your cheekbone and eye. Nothing you hadn’t felt before, but Frankie could pack a punch when needed. Tears instantly pricked at your eyes as you recaught your balance and stood up, trying to blink away the pain. And tears. And humiliation.

“Say it again, Street Rat,” Frankie said.

“Hey, that’s enough,” Tara tried to say, doing her best to stand in between the both of you. Not that it mattered, she was too short. It was pretty cute, actually. “Y/N, let’s go.”

Don’t say it.

“You’re a man whore, dude,” you said anyway. He clenched his jaw tighter. “A man whore with the clap.”

You moved Tara out of the way and braced yourself when Frankie lifted his fist again. Thankfully he had dropped the beer can; you could already feel something warm trickling down the side of your face. If he was going to hit you then he needed to do it like a man, not with a weapon. Pop always said only cowards used weapons against unarmed men.

Maybe you should have been a coward.

The punch never came. When you re-opened your eyes, you saw Alfie standing there in between the both of you, creating the buffer Tara had tried and failed to become. His back was to you but you could tell by the square set of his shoulders that he was tense. And pissed. Oh god, he was pissed.

“Go home, Frankie,” Alfie said in his heavy Bronx accent. Like most everyone in the family, it came out more when he was tense. Or angry. Oh, he was angry.

“Not until I get an apology,” Frankie said as he pointed to you. “To my face.”

“Not my fault you’re collectin’ STDs like they’re fuckin’ Pokemon, man,” you said back. Shut up!

“Come here-”

“-enough!” Alfie shouted, pushing you both back. Not that you needed the encouragement, your cheek was still throbbing from the first punch. “Get the fuck out, Frankie.”

“I’ll be back for you, Street Rat,” Frankie said with a finger pointed at you. Like the mature adult you were, you stuck your tongue out at him before giving him your best New Yorker smile.

“Now,” Alfie insinuated with a push on Frankie’s chest, guiding him to the front door.

With one more look at you, Frankie finally made his way out of the frat house, pushing past whoever was unfortunate enough to be in his way. He was barely out of sight before you felt a hard slap against your stomach, forcing you to double over. You felt like you were going to puke. Maybe you would.

“Quit startin’ fights, you moron,” Alfie said as he grabbed your shoulders and stood you up straight again. “I’m gettin’ real tired of defending your sorry ass.”

“Pop always said I was a slow learner,” you said, your own accent coming out just enough to irritate you. With a slight scowl, you focused harder on your words. “I’m sorry.”

“Better be,” he said with a sigh. Finally, he turned his head to look at Tara. “You good, doll?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a shrug.

“Be careful with Frankie,” he continued. “He’s a real prick.”

“He’s a-”

“-not a word from you,” Alfie interrupted you with another slap to the shoulder. “You started this whole mess.”

“Coulda finished it too if you gave me the chance,” you said, rubbing your now sore shoulder and still trying not to puke from the blow to the stomach. Maybe those fireball shots weren’t necessary.

“Would you mind taking our little menace upstairs and cleaning the blood off?” Alfie asked Tara. “I’d appreciate it.”

Tara looked at you at the suggestion, really looked at you. Just that one look from her was enough to have your heart beating out of your chest like a Loony Toons character. Oh what you wouldn’t give to have her look at you all the time, whether in malice or admiration or love. Just to have her eyes on you would be enough to leave you happy and content until the day you died.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh, reaching forward to grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t test her,” Alfie whispered to you as Tara pulled you away.

You just wiggled your brows suggestively at him, to which he promptly threw his hands up in defeat.

Tara led you throughout the frat house as if she had lived there her entire life. It was almost amusing to see someone so small moving through the crowd without any trouble, as if people knew there was a child among them and they needed to make sure not to step on it. Wait, maybe you shouldn’t be comparing her to a child. But, come on, she was small enough.

By the time you both managed to stumble up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, you were very much starting to feel the alcohol and the bruise that was blooming across your cheek. It was going to smart, that was for sure. Tara pushed you into Alfie’s room - by pure coincidence, surely - and shut the door behind her, locking it promptly.

“You’re a prick,” she said the moment she turned back around to look at you.

“I was protectin’ you,” you said, taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly to ease the accent. “Frankie’s a prick and you know it.”

“I didn’t need protecting,” she groaned. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“You wanna get the clap, be my guest,” you said with a shrug.

“Does he really have it?” Tara asked doubtfully.

You closed your mouth and looked off at Alfie’s closet. If you didn’t look at her, maybe she wouldn’t force you to answer. Even with the music pounding through the walls, you heard her sigh. You shouldn’t have lied, that annoying little voice in your head said. Sometimes you hated your subconscious; it was usually right.

Tara’s hand gripping your jaw made you flinch, which then made the throbbing in your cheek resume once again. Say what you wanted about Frankie, but he could pack a punch. Probably would’ve been better to just leave him be. But then Tara pulled your chin to face her, and you were instantly reassured that no, you absolutely should’ve gotten him to leave.

“He cut your cheek,” she said as her eyes left yours to look at the wounds that adorned your face. “Have anything to clean it with?”

“Here,” you said, leaning back just enough to pull your shirt over your head. Tara’s eyes went wide before she did her best to look anywhere but at you.

“Please put your shirt back on,” she said, still not looking at you.

“It’s got vodka on it anyway,” you said as you shoved the shirt into her hands. “Nature’s disinfectant.”

“It-,” she turned to look at you incredulously. “Are you stupid?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you said with a grin. “Just clean it already, I’m braced.”

Tara shook her head slowly, but grabbed your jaw once again to hold you still. Her hand was soft; incredibly soft, actually. Depending on how she held you, you could almost see that scar of hers. An angry pink that looked like it didn’t really want to finish healing. She probably needed to put some cream on it, maybe you could ask your Ma for a bit of advice.

You hissed when she dabbed the vodka drenched shirt on your cheek. Oh, now you remembered why it wasn’t a good idea. It got the job done, sure, but it hurt like a sonofabitch. But you squared your shoulders and stayed still until she was done dabbing it. Even though it seemed like she was cleaning it a little more forcefully than necessary.

“Does Frankie actually have the clap?” Tara asked again while she finished up.

“Have you slept with him?” You asked in return. She gave you a frown before looking back at your cheek.

“No.”

“Then yes he does,” you said with a nod. “Plus a few others, he’s like a breeding ground for ‘em.”

“You’re disgusting,” she sighed before straightening up.

“Listen, if you wanted to get laid tonight, you could’ve always asked me,” you said with a shrug. You hoped it came off as nonchalant, even though you were totally chalant about it. Was that even a word?

“What makes you think I would want to sleep with you?” Tara asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. It didn’t distract you from noticing the slightest flush to her cheeks.

“Because you think I’m sexy,” you said in a sing-songy voice, “and you wanna kiss me.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” She asked.

She did not, however, stop you from reaching out to grab her by the hips and pull her until she was standing between your legs. Even when you were sitting she was barely taller than you. Her arms uncrossed so she could rest her hands on your bare shoulders, causing you to shiver lightly. You were going to blame it on the alcohol.

“You can call me whatever you want,” you said, your eyes darting down to look at her lips. “As long as you call me.”

“This is only because I’m drunk,” Tara said, her own eyes looking at your lips. Bingo.

“Of course,” you said as your thumbs slipped under her shirt and rubbed her hips lightly.

“And if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you,” she continued.

“Naturally," you agree.

The alcohol coursed through you, leaving a heat in its wake. But it was nothing compared to the inferno you felt in your core when Tara practically surged forward to kiss you. She wasted no time parting her lips for you, letting you taste every inch of her. She tasted of cheap beer and lemonade; surprisingly unsurprising.

"Were you smoking?" She asked as she pulled away; you chased her, leaving a trail of kisses across her jaw. "You smell like smoke."

"Which answer gets me laid?" You asked between kisses.

"You're insufferable," she groaned.

She pushed against your shoulders until you fell back against the bed. Almost instantly, she climbed on top of you, straddling your stomach and placing her hands on your ribs. Her nails were short, but still long enough to scratch your skin lightly, sending another shiver through your body. It was a nice feeling. Painfully nice.

“Don’t try to romance me,” Tara said as she looked down at you; her pupils were blown and she looked absolutely beautiful.

“Just a fuck?” You clarified.

“A quick one,” she said with a nod.

“Clothes off?” You asked.

“On,” she corrected.

“Yes ma’am,” you said quickly before letting your hands push under her shirt, nails lightly scratching across her skin until you felt the underwire of her bra.

You waited, watching her to make sure she consented. The alcohol may have been clouding your judgment ever so slightly, but you weren’t Frankie. When Tara looked at you and nodded, you wasted no time in pushing her bra above her breasts. The moment your knuckles brushed against her nipples, her head slowly fell back and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

That inferno in your core only grew hotter when you rolled her nipple between your thumb and forefinger and her hips stuttered against your stomach. Oh it was a beautiful sight, to see Tara lose even the slightest bit of her composure from such a small gesture. You did it again and had to bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning at the movement of her hips.

“Don’t tease,” she said breathlessly, her nails digging deeper into your ribs. A stunning sting that you hoped would leave marks.

“As you wish,” you said in reply.

One of your hands stayed right where it was, brushing lightly against her nipple just to see her shiver. Your other hand moved down, unbuttoning her jeans with surprising ease that you blamed on nothing more than the alcohol. With nothing else in your way, you effortlessly slipped your hand under the waistband of her underwear, letting out a humiliating moan when you felt just how wet she was.

“Jesus, Tara,” you said breathlessly as you ran your fingers through her folds before stopping on her clit.

“Just shut up,” she said between clenched teeth.

It was an uncomfortable position for your hand to be in, though you wouldn’t change it for the world. Your wrist was at an awkward angle, you couldn’t do much, and there wasn’t much room to move. But that didn’t mean much when Tara was doing most of the work for you, rutting her hips against your hand as if you were good for one thing and one thing only.

“Don’t move,” she gasped, confirming your suspicions. You didn’t really care.

“Fuck,” you groaned as you watched her move, her nails finally splitting your skin ever so slightly. It wouldn’t bleed, but there would be red marks for the next few days. 

Even though Tara wasn’t touching you, there was something satisfying about watching her get herself off on your fingers. Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth fall open when she hit just the right spot. Feeling how wet she was and how effortlessly she could rut against your fingers. No shame, no regrets, just the pleasure of the moment.

God it was hot.

You watched her as she came, her hips stuttering, giving you the opportunity to finally help out and rub tight circles on her clit. Just enough to sustain her orgasm for a few seconds more. She exhaled sharply and leaned forward on her hands, pushing deeper into your ribs. It made it a little harder to breathe, but when Tara Carpenter was the cause? Well, you would be happy to just suffocate under her touch.

“God you’re hot,” you said softly, not even sure if she would hear you or not. That was okay; it wasn’t the point.

Her eyes finally opened as she caught some semblance of control over her breathing again. The beautiful brown of her eyes was taken over by her dark pupils, and for a moment, she almost looked like she was smiling down at you. Maybe she was, you certainly wouldn’t bring it up to her. Not at that moment, anyway. But then she blinked a few times and shook her head before removing her weight from her hands, unburdening you from suffocation.

“I suppose you’re not entirely insufferable,” she said as she slowly pushed herself off of you, being a little extra careful as she buttoned her pants.

“You’re gonna leave me high and dry, aren’t you?” You asked when she tossed your shirt back in your face.

“You never clarified you wanted to get laid,” she said with a smirk before walking to the door and leaving the room.

You fell back onto the bed and sighed loudly. Your head was thumping with your pre-hangover migraine, your cheek was still sore, and you had a serious case of blue balls. But the mental image of Tara getting herself off on your hand… well, you supposed that would suffice.

For now.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

LOVE - CHAPTER 6

After getting back together, Janelle finds out thats she's pregnant. Follow along with Josh and Janelle as they deal with the highs and lows of her pregnancy.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

Janelle is played by Justine Skye

Hopefully this is only 2 chapters but you know me lol it might be more.

Sequel to All I Need Is You: Read Here

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

TAGLIST: @christinabae@southerngirl41@reci24@jeyusos-girl@jeyusosgirl@melaninsugababy@baconeggndcheez@bemybabiibish@jstarr86@nbanenefrmdao@purplehairgawdess@arination99@alyyaanna@m3llowww@gomussy@jeysbae@hennyyybarb@babysyhsy @bebesobrielo

Janelles eyes bounced back and forth between Josh and Ximena. Josh was literally shaking with anger. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the island counter separating him , Ximena and her brother - Sebastian. The kitchen was quiet, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of Josh’s harsh breathing and the theme song to Spongebob Square Pants. 

“Have you lost  your fuckin’ mind?” Josh asked lowly, he was trying his hardest not to fly off the handle and choke the shit outta Ximena. Ximena smacked her lips and threw her hair over her shoulder. 

“I just wanted to see my son Joshua.” 

“Man get the fuck outta here with that.” Josh said as he pushed away from the counter and tried to walk closer to Ximena but stopped once Janelle placed her hand on his shoulder.  Janelle pulled him closer to her and whispered in his ear. 

“You need to calm down. I understand you’re upset. Don’t do something that’ll get you arrested and put your job and Xavi in danger.”  He nodded and took a deep breath trying to calm himself back down. 

“Awe isn’t that cute.” Ximena said, narrowing her eyes at Janelle. “So you’re the woman that's been taking care of my son?”  Janelle ignored her and kept her eyes on Josh. She placed her hand overtop of his when he gripped the counter harder. 

“Mommy?” Everyone turned their heads to look at Xavi who was standing by the entryway to the kitchen. Ximena smiled thinking he was talking to her but it quickly disappeared once Xavi walked over to Janelle and grabbed her hand, pulling her down so he could whisper something in her ear. 

“Why is my son calling this bitch mom?” Ximena asked and Janelle snapped her eyes towards her. 

“I aint no bitch, but ya momma is.” Ximena tried to round the counter and get in Janelle’s face but Sebastian grabbed her arm pulling her back.

“She’s pregnant.” He whispered and Ximena rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.  Janelle’s dad pushed himself out of his chair and grabbed Xavi’s hand leading him out of the kitchen and upstairs. 

“Don’t talk like that infront of my fuckin son..” Josh said. “Why are you here?.” 

“”I just told you I wanted to see my son.”

“So you had to kidnap him?” Janelle asked. “You couldn’t have just contacted Josh to see Xavi?” 

“Kidnap?” Ximena laughed. “I didn’t kidnap my child.” 

“He isn’t your child. You abandoned him, left him on my momma’s porch and dipped. Now four years later you wanna come back. It don’t work like that.” Josh said looking at Ximena like she was crazy, cause she literally had to be. Why would she think that taking Xavier from school was a good idea? “You wanted to come back into his life, you should've contacted me first.” Ximena’s brother scoffed. “Man what? You got somethin’ to say?” 

“You ain’t no better than she is! You abandoned him first!”  

“Fuck is you talkin’ bout?” 

“You left my sister to fend for herself when she was pregnant aint come see the baby in the hospital or nothing. Now you somehow parent of the fuckin year?”  Josh scoffed and looked at Ximena who was looking down at the floor. 

“That's what you told ya family? Man you really are fucked up.” 

“Don’t talk to my sister that way.” Sebastian said, stepping up to Josh. 

“Fuck you and ya sister.” Josh said, pushing Sebastian away from him. “Matter fact y’all can get the fuck out my house ‘for I call the cops.”  

“Okay we’ll go.” Ximena said, grabbing her brother and pulling him towards the door. “You already know we’re going to court, I'm gonna get my son back.” Josh scoffed , 

“Over my dead fuckin’ body.” He said before slamming the door in her face and locking it. 

“So that was my real mommy?” Xavier asked Josh as he tucked him into bed for the night. Josh nodded. 

“Yeah, I'm sorry if you were scared today, Xavi. It won’t happen again I promise.” Xavi nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“She said that I was going to live with her.” Xavi said, his eyes filling with tears at the thought of not being with his dad or Janelle. Josh shook his head. 

“That ain’t gon happen.”  Xavi sniffled and stuck his pinky out. 

“Promise?” Josh linked their pinkies together. 

“I promise.” 

3 weeks later they found themselves sitting in a courtroom. Janelle and Xavier sat in the gallery behind Josh and his lawyer. Ximena kept trying to get Xavi’s attention from her seat but Janelle blocked his view of her. 

She looked over and smiled at Trin and Jon when they sat down next to her. “You guys didn’t have to fly in for this.” She said after giving the both of them a hug. 

“Girl yes we did.” Trin said. “He got all the paperwork he needed?.” Janelle nodded and let out a shaky breath. 

“I hope so. I can’t wait for all this to be over.”

“Can you tell us why you would like full custody of your son Ms Morgan?” 

“Um, because he’s my son.”  

“But you abandoned Xavier did you not?”  Ximena huffed but didn’t say anything. The judge turned her attention to Josh and his lawyer. “You want to prove to the courts that Ms Morgan is unfit, correct?” 

“Yes ma’am.” Josh said and pulled some papers out of a folder. “He was malnourished and was kept in the PICU for 3 weeks after he was in my care.”  He said handing the paperwork to the bailiff. 

Janelle looked over to Ximena who was squirming in her chair and looking extremely uncomfortable. Janelle watched as the judge read over the paperwork, her from deepening the further she read. 

“I also have the police report from the day we found him outside. She just left him there. I don’t know how long he was out there. My brother opened the front door and found him there in his car seat.” Josh said, handing over the police report. 

The judge couldn’t believe what she was hearing and reading. She looked over at Ximena and gave her a disappointing stare.  “I’m not going to lie to you Ms Morgan.” She started. “I’m not liking what I am hearing. All of the evidence and statements that I have received today point to you not being the right person to take care of Xavier.”  Ximena scoffed and opened her mouth to retort but her lawyer grabbed her arm and shook his head.

“You honor, Ms. Morgan is Xavier’s mother and Mr Fatu has Xavier calling his fiance Ms. Porter mom. And I believe Mr Fatu is doing it out of spite.” Janelle and Trinity scoffed and looked at eachother. 

“They scramblin’ now.” Jon said with a smirk on his face. “She aint gon win this.” 

“Objection your honor.” Josh’s lawyer said as he stood up. “Ms Porter has been helping take care of Xavier since he was almost two years old. Xavier views Ms Porter as his mother and nothing is being done out of spite.” 

The judge held up her hand, signaling Josh’s lawyer to stop talking. “I’ve honestly heard enough. And I’ve made my decision. I’m granting full custody to Mr. Fatu and supervised visits with Ms Morgan only if Xavier wants. Court is adjourned.” 

Josh let out a sigh of relief, all this bullshit with Ximena was finally over and he could focus all his attention back on Janelle, Xavier and the baby. He stood up and walked over to Janelle and Xavier, picking him up and pulling Janelle into a hug with them. 

“I want my visits Joshua, I want to get to know my son.” Josh sighed and turned to face her. Janelle took Xavier and left the courtroom with Jon and Trin. 

“You heard the judge only if Xavier wants. I’m not going to force him.” Josh said before walking away. 

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #main event jey uso #jey uso smut #the usos #jey uso one shot #jey uso x reader #jey uso fluff #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fandom #wwe x black reader #wwe x you #wwe x oc

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Two, “One Step Closer”

Word Count: 10k words /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad /  *College resumes for me this coming week so chapters will, once again, be random* /  Song: Love Is On The Radio by McFly

“You’re weak. Everybody is. Everybody fails. Maybe this evil did bring you back, but if it did, it’s because it needs you. And that means that you can hurt it.”

- Buffy the Vampire Slayer  |  3x10 - “Amends”

It had been bothering me all morning, ever since Harry’s comment. If I was telling myself the truth, it had been gnawing away at the insides of my brain for longer than that. 

There was so much inside of me telling me that his suspicion was right when all I wanted was for it to be wrong. If I was doing that truth thing again, of course, there was a remaining part of me that wanted it to be right, but it was miniscule at best. No more was said about it after that, but that fact in itself only made it harder to forget. Even if I had wanted to speak to him about it, he had been in partner meetings all day. I knew he was due for lunch here soon, and that’s what led me to run a quick errand before then, nabbing the car keys from his right drawer where he always left them for occasions like this. 

I certainly didn’t think that this was how it would be happening, at Harry’s firm of all places. Our firm? Guilt seeped under my skin the second I had put my plan into action, well aware that he had no idea what I was doing. Tears had been close all day long, since the time those joking words had left his lips. Sure, the blame went to him on that, but I couldn’t have known what it would lead to, either. Even he didn’t. We both could deserve the blame for this entire thing, if it turned out to be true. 

The second it’s done, I find that I can’t get myself to follow through. The closest thing I’ve felt to relief all day comes when I see my watch reads one o’clock. It feels like every person I pass knows my secret, despite that being an impossibility and more. The only person who could have the smallest inkling is the person whose door I stop in front of, because I’m not sure how I can do this. Or, that I can. I’ve surprised myself by getting this far in my plan. 

When the door opens for me, I can’t decide whether I feel lucky that he made the next decision for me. “Hi, bug. How’s yer mornin’ been? ‘ve missed you, y’know. Oh, whatcha got there? Did ya get me lunch?” his words couldn’t be sweeter. Neither could his hand that brushes against my cheek, sliding down my arm next. Alarms blare inside of me, yelling to tell him while others repeat the opposite. I don’t know why, but doubt floods me within milliseconds. I know that he wouldn’t be upset, but then how come I suddenly worry that he would be? “Ev’rythin’ okay, Becks?”

“I-I . . ,” I try and my failure is almost immediate. The only thing that I succeed at is pushing him back into his office, and closing the door. 

“Becks, what’s wrong, love?” urgency shines through in his voice. It’s the last thing that I can find, in my hand or my lips. My name graces my ears a few times more as I stare at the floor, not knowing how I could ever say this. Not just that, unsure of how I can make the next move, knowing that it very well may change my life from this moment on. His, too. 

“I-I can’t do it, Harry.”  

Three Weeks Earlier . . 

The sound of the wooden door finding its hinges is deafening, ringing throughout the historic hallway. His booming footsteps may be even louder as I try to follow them, but his legs are just too damn long. I’m not sure if I want to even follow him, knowing what’s about to happen.

“What tha fuck was that?” he spits at me, malice laced throughout his words. I thought at least he’d wait until the car, but I guess not. Fuck me, and not in a good way. 

“Can we not do this here?” my attempt at a whisper is pathetic. When he whips around, making me stop suddenly, I wish I’d never said anything. 

“Do what? Talk ‘bout how you jus’ made us lose our fuckin’ case?” Harry retorts. Hanging my head low, I keep it that way as I walk around him. It’s not that easy though, or so I find, as I walk past them. All of the other lawyers waiting, as if in the dugout, outside the doors to Courtrooms 11, 12, and 13. “‘Cos you did, y’know that, right?” Wow, thanks for the fucking audience, Harry. 

“How was I supposed to know they had that evidence, Harry?” my words are explosive, but they’re nothing compared to his eyes. If you slapped a long haired wig on him and made him clean shaven, it’d be just like four years ago. He hadn’t always stayed away though, especially not when he had been drinking, but it had been a while since that. Nearly a year. Then, why now? 

“We knew ‘bout it, so you should’ve planned fer it, Becks.”

“I did my best, Harry,” I mutter under my breath, pointing my eyes at him. Why was he acting like this, so entitled and . . not like my Harry?

“Ya, well ‘s not good enough,” he replies curtly with a nasty curl to his lips, disgust painting his face. I make the mistake of lifting my head, catching the last second of wandering gazes before they pretend like they weren’t watching our spat unfold. “Let’s go befo’ dinner traffic starts.”

/

“Where d’ya think yer goin’?” it’s not a joke, like it would so often be. No, he’s still here, and I was so close to finally making my escape. 

“I’m going to Skye’s for dinner.” 

“But, I was gonna make fish, and-,” I don’t let him finish, because he’s been doing the very same thing to me. All day long. Clipped replies, shooting down my ideas, and doing nothing to hide his disappointment in me. “And, we’re not done talkin’ ‘bout t’day, Becks.” 

“No, Harry, we are. And, you don’t get to call me that when you’re acting like this,” my words are firm, the most they’ve been in awhile. It was long overdue, even more than that. It zips his lips shut quicker than I could have hoped, and at last, he’s listening to me now. “We spoke about it the entire way here from the courthouse, Harry. You talked at me, yelled at me the whole car ride. Don’t you think that was more than enough?”

I know that I’ve made the wrong decision entirely when he rises from his chair, standing to his astounding height of six feet. I’d been loving him for the last few years, and officially for the last one and a half, so I knew what was coming by the look on his face. 

“No, ‘m yer boss and I say we’re not done speakin’ ‘bout this. So, sit.” 

“No,” emphasis carries in my voice, making him look as if I slapped him across the face. A groove appears between his eyebrows that sink towards his eyes. “You can’t talk to me like that, Harry. Yes, I’m your mentee and your employee, but I’m your girlfriend too. Isn’t that more important? I fucked up and made a mistake, and we lost a case. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry, Harry?” a response from his lips is absent, and I can’t find one on his face as he stares back at me blankly. 

The look in his eyes begins to tug at my heart once the tears have begun to leave stripes down my cheeks. God, could there for once be a time that I don’t fucking cry?

“Shit,” I mutter, wiping hastily at my cheeks. Huffing, I blink them away until his face focuses in my view. I love him, and I try to remind myself of that, but God, I am so fucking mad at him right now. He had said it to me, and now, I can’t stop thinking about it. “We’re on the same team, Harry, have you forgotten that? You keep saying lately that we should fight with love and while on the same team, but you’re a hypocrite, because you don’t! What the fuck? I’m sorry I missed that evidence writing up our argument, and that I wasn’t prepared when it came up, but what was I supposed to do? You didn’t tell me how to fix that- y-you didn’t teach me what to do when that happens, Harry. This is why I haven’t worked a case with you in awhile, because you get like this. You micromanage, you hover when I’m trying to work, you have me on too short of a leash when I’m trying to take some freedom, or you give me too much of it when I need more help. You’re demeaning, Harry, you pull the boss card when it’s not fucking needed. I know that I’m dating one of the most renowned and successful lawyers in London- hell, all of Britain, but you’re my boyfriend too. I haven’t even been practicing for two years, and it’s going to be a long time until I don’t make mistakes anymore. I’m doing my best, and it’s never enough for you. Do you remember that, when you said my best isn’t good enough in front of all of those lawyers at the courthouse, Harry? Can you even comprehend how embarrassing that was for me? I’m your girlfriend, and despite how we tried to hide it, everybody knows it. That’s not how you treat your girlfriend, Harry, or even if we weren’t dating, your coworker. We’re talking about getting engaged soon, Harry, and then what? How can we be the Styles lawyer couple when my husband treats me like I’m below him because he gets mad at me for not knowing how to do something that he never taught me? . . Talk to Simon or Jilly, because I’m not working another case with you until you stop acting like this.”

“Becks, honey. I-” the very same word from his lips is found in his words, but I’m already shaking my head at him. A part of me wants to let him continue, but the other one insists that he’s the one who does the listening this time. 

“No, don’t you give me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, Harry Styles,” my warning holds more weight to it than I thought I could manage. He’s surprised too, by the way I don’t return his few second smile. “You can’t just fix this with an ‘I’m sorry’ and some pet names, Harry. I-I need to go. I can’t be here right now.” 

And so I leave, fleeing to my other best friend to pour my heart out about the other one. Rinse and repeat. 

/

The house was unusually quiet for eight o’clock. I kept putting it off, coming home. Finally, Skye did what she does best and kicked me out, insisting that I go and have some angry sex with my boyfriend, and then talk it out. It beats me why her solution to everything was sex, no matter how many times I vented to her about a row we had, that was always her answer. Sex. Have angry sex. Shower sex. Sofa sex. Slow sex. Dirty sex. Bent over the kitchen counter sex. Car sex, even. It only reminded me to never ask her where she hadn’t done it. 

It was dark, save for the soft light above the stove. “Alexa, turn living room light to warm,” I ask softly, hoping that he can’t hear me. I’m just not ready yet. 

Ideas for my lunch tomorrow fill my head until they’re whisked away when I open the fridge, finding my lunchbag beside his. An electric blue Post-It note sits on one of the purple handles. 

I got your lunch sorted, bug, and for the rest of the week. Month, if you even want. Love you most, I’m so bloody sorry xoxoxo

His chicken scratch plants a warmth inside of me, one that I can’t deny when I close the door, and pad up the stairs. “Alexa, turn light off.”

If he was working in his downstairs study, I’d done a good job of being quiet enough, but that was never the case. I swear, I had the sound of his footsteps memorized by now. My knack for recognizing my mum’s angry stomping had carried on to my adult years, somewhat fortunately. 

When it came down to it, there were few things about Harry that weren’t attractive. Sure, I could make a list of them spanning a notebook page if I thought hard enough, starting with today’s main feature. He wasn’t any more perfect than the rest of us, but sometimes in the right light he was for me. He still was despite his flaws. 

The slope of his toned back was one of them, one of his imperfect perfections that he didn’t even know about. It was the first glimpse I got of him when I stopped in the open doorway of our bedroom. It had been a long time since I could remember him wearing a shirt to bed, probably last winter, if I had to say. If he heard the whispery sounds of my breaths and impending footsteps, he didn’t make it known. Neither did he when I crossed the room and escaped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

Despite the time I spent readying myself to see him and talk to him, it wasn’t enough. No, it didn’t prepare me for the way my heart seemed to split open when I stepped out of the bathroom to find his face devoid of sunshine and red rimmed eyes threatened with more tears. If I could find the right words, which I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have even said any as I found my way to our bed, slipping under the covers on his side, the left one. His ragged breaths are hot against my bare neck, and his tears soon gracing my skin are tepid, but passionate with sobs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he whimpers, words divulged into me. Against my skin. Apparently, today was opposite day, because as I hold him against me, I’m teeming with guilt. “Did ya not think I could handle t’ hear it?”

“No, not really . . I wanted to find a good time to tell you, and not when we were having a row, but it just came out today. I’m sorry for the way that I said it, and how I left like that. You can’t fight fire with fire.” 

“‘s okay, I deserved it fer how I treated you t’day, bub. ‘m so sorry,” his sob stings against my ears, almost pulling an adjoining one from my lips. “I think yer a great lawyer, really, I do. This case was jus’ so hard and I let it get t’ me and overshadow ev’rythin’ else. ‘s s’posed t’ be a learning experience fer you, and I fo’got that. Becks . . “ 

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s not, but it is. You just . . you have to work on it. Not just for me, but Simon and Jilly too who work with you, and for yourself,” I tell him amidst combing the tangles out of his ear length curls. 

“Maybe ‘m not cut out t’ be a teacher, Becks. ‘m terrible at it, as you can see.” 

“No, you’re not, Harry. You’re my favorite teacher, you still are. Teachers have their own learning to do, too.” 

“I dunno,” he sighs, sniffling against the tears that have made my neck slick. A silence falls between us, and I’m not sure what else to say, before he does it for me. “How can I get better, Becks? Please, tell me.” 

“Harry, you . . you have to relax about it. Jilly’s only an intern, and Simon graduated when I did, but he may not have as much experience as me, I dunno. Everybody’s different and every case is, too. You have to lower your expectations, I think, and raise them when you can. Sometimes, you need to loosen the leash you have on them, or tighten it, depending on how much help they need. You need to act as if they don’t know something - how to write briefs, how to finish a closing statement, how to interview a witness . . Not in a demeaning way, but in a teachable way. When they mess up, take a deep breath before telling them it’s okay, and use it as a teachable moment. Nobody is perfect, Harry, and it’s okay that you aren’t, either.”

“Sounds like you should be tha teacher, not me,” he remarks gingerly, but in a way that the sadness has devoured his happiness. This was the voice of his I perhaps hated worse than when he yells at me. “I can’t believe tha way I treated you t’day, Becks. I didn’t go over what we should do if tha state found that evidence, ‘cos I forgot ‘bout it once that missing witness was found . . ‘s not yer fault that we lost it, it really isn’t. They jus’ played their cards right, ‘s all. We’ll do better next time- Well, if you’ll have me back.” 

He didn’t mean to, but he feeds the guilt monster inside of me. I wish I could hate it, but I know he means well. 

“It’s not a question, Harry. I will come back to work with you. I just- I didn’t know it’d be this hard working together sometimes. Since we’re dating and we both are passionate about law, I thought it’d mean we’d be great on a team together at work, but . . “ 

“‘s easier said than done,” he concludes for the both of us, reminding me of that talent he has with words. “Becks, I don’t wanna be like this . . ‘specially when we have kids. I hate it when I hurt those I love,” his sob rips another seam in my heart. Pulling him closer doesn’t help, but it brings a temporary respite when he’s pressed to my front. 

“Harry, you’ll be a great dad, I know it. We all have things we need to work on, we’re always a work in progress, and that’s okay too,” something inside of me clenches at the appearance of his red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks when he pulls away from me. He had always been better at wiping away the tears, but I do my best, and know that’s all that I can do. “We better hope none of them become lawyers.” 

The rip starts to stitch itself back up when a ray of sunshine spills from his grinning lips, even if it’s the smallest of smiles. Tipping my head forward, my forehead comes to rest on his, and I watch as his eyes fall shut. 

“You still love me?” his question is mumbled, and there goes that stitching. 

“Don’t be silly, of course I still love you, Harry. I don’t think I could stop if I tried, not that I’d want to.” 

His sages are tired when they open, and it makes it difficult to not think about late nights with him and a baby in our arms. One that I hope looks like him, getting his dimples, eyes, and sunshine. I wonder what we’d name them. 

“You still stuck on that girl name if we had a daughter?” I pose aloud to him, welcoming the change of subjects. His nod is emphatic and so is my giggle, still unable to think of a better baby name than that one. 

“Can’t believe ya still insist on namin’ our one day son Lenny,” Harry tsks, but I know he’s joking by the dimple set in his cheek. 

“Come on, you still don’t like it? How do you, a Beatles and John fan, not like the idea of naming your son Lennon Styles? Doesn’t it just sound, I dunno, so perfect?” I hope I’m right, that the tears have begun to dry up from his eyes.  

“Sorry, love, but as much as I love The Beatles, I jus’ can’t get on that bandwagon. Maybe ‘Lennon,’ but defo not ‘Lenny,’ sounds like an old man name or somethin’,” Harry titters, the very sound going straight for my heart. Yawning, I decide it’s my time to bury my face in his neck, sighing at the comfort of his arms going around me. “‘m so sorry ‘bout t’day, Becks. I promise you ‘ll get better. Fer you . . fer me, and our family one day.” 

“Thank you. Your dedication to wanting to get better is one of the things I love most about you, Harry. You know that?” I hum, my eyes fluttering shut at the intoxicating smell of him. I’m not sure there was ever a time where it didn’t calm me, until earlier today. 

Any sign of sleep is whisked away when I’m rolled onto my back, and he’s hovering over me, pinning my arms above my head. Oh, boy. This could go two very different ways, but I know which one I’m leaning towards. 

“Ya sure ‘s not me huge dick ya love most?” despite the tears stuck to his eyelashes, the shine in his eye is beginning to return. It may be a different kind as of now, but I welcome it, regardless. 

It’s undeniable that I’m going to get it for this one, but this too I embrace, “Now, I wouldn’t call it huge.” 

It grows in his eyes, the twinkling of mischief. God, how could I ever not learn to forgive that face? That stupidly goddamn handsome face. 

“Becky Styles, what tha fuck am I gonna do with you, Ms. Smart Mouth?”

“Come on, you know that’s what you love most about me,” my grin couldn’t be bigger. Neither could his automatic eye roll. “My mouth.” 

“Hush, li’l one, or else yer not gettin’ any o’ this dick.” 

“I know what you can do with me . . well, with that huge dick of yours, Harry,” at the end, my words collapse into a loud chuckle, especially when his teeth nip at my ear. 

“Bloody hell, stop talkin’, Becks. Yer distractin’ me.” 

“Good.” 

With his curls hanging in his eyes, a different warmth appears in his eyes, “‘s a good thing yer me favorite distraction, love.” 

/

I had tried and tried, but nothing. It wasn’t working. 

“What the fuck?” I mutter underneath my breath. Pulling my light coat around me tighter, I shiver, narrowing my eyes at the screen. Sliding my sleeve back, I lift my wrist and wake up my Apple watch. “Hey, Siri. Call Harry.” 

There’s a pause until I hear the robotic voice, “There is only ‘Harry Big Dick Styles’ in your Contacts. Would you like to call them or another number?”

“Yes,” I groan, rolling my eyes at the new name Harry had chosen for himself in my phone. By now, I could sniff it out on him, the little smirk he got when he’d ask to ‘borrow my phone’ to look something up. The little shit. 

“Yes, call who?”

“Call ‘Harry Big Dick Styles,’” although it doesn’t warrant a whisper, I still do, despite being alone in my office. He got what he wanted, alright. The device soon starts to ring, and it rings, and rings. Pressing the red phone icon, I end it, “Yeah, avoid my call so I don’t chew you out for putting your name as that in my phone, Harry Edward.” 

While my head rocks from side to side, mumbled curses fall from my lips as I close out of that tab. Switching to another, I type in the name of the other database, reentering my search for like, the hundredth time. 

“Knock knock!” somebody chirps from outside my door, opening it regardless. “Hey, Ree, hope I’m not interrupting some important lawyer thing of yours. I’m just glad I didn’t walk in on a row of yours with Harry. You two lovebirds better now?”

“Oh, hey, Skye. No, you’re okay and we’re good again. I was about to chuck my computer at the wall, so it’s probably best you came and saved me,” I sigh, watching my best friend waltz in, plopping onto my sofa. With an ‘ooo,’ she helps herself to Harry’s candy dish on the corner of my desk. Sometimes, I really do hate him. 

“What’s this ‘bout throwin’ yer Mac at tha wall? Tha thousand dollar laptop I bought you?” comes another voice into my office. Huffing, my hand comes to my face, rubbing at the furrow between my brows. Have I said lately how much I hate his sarcastic ass?

“Shutup, Harry,” Skye retorts for me, sorting through the caramels and chocolates until she locates the last mini Snickers bar. 

“Hey, watch tha mouth and Skye, those are my sweets!” he exclaims, quick steps carrying him over to my desk to bat at her hand. 

“Fuck off, I got it first.”

“Shouldn’t you two be workin’ or somethin’?” Harry sighs, biting off a block of chocolate as he takes a seat besides Skye. 

“Shouldn’t you?” by accident, Skye and I say it at the same time. Moaning, Harry crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. Good God, I don’t even want to imagine how stubborn our kids would be. 

“Fuck off, I own that sofa yer sittin’ on, could very well kick you outta me firm, if I like.” 

“Fuck off, I own that sofa yer sittin’ on, yada yada, ‘m this big fancy lawyer who thinks he has a big dick and ‘s tha best thing since sliced bread,” I try and fail to hold back the laughter spurred by Skye’s near perfect imitation of Harry’s accent, and his cocky attitude. His head slowly shakes from side to side, eyes narrowed at Skye while taking another bite from his dark chocolate bar. 

“Yer really gonna get it. Swear, yer never gonna be tha godmother, Skye.” 

“Wait, really?! It’s about time you fucking knocked her up,” she blurts

out and I’m laughing before I register what she’s saying. It comes to a skidding halt, but Harry’s shaking head doesn’t. 

“Ya, don’t think ‘d want me kids ‘round you, ya fuckin’ nutjob,” my boyfriend jokes, mouth full of chocolate. 

Skye’s jaw falls and she slaps at his arm, shoving at him next, but of course, he doesn’t go anywhere. Leaning forward, Harry easily towers over her in his dark violet suit, lips spread into a shit eating grin. 

“Who’s pregnant?” now, this voice is new, but it doesn’t take me long to locate its owner. All eyes flit to the doorway where Asher spreads his hands on the frame, peering inside with bent brows. 

“Um, nobody but . . ,” Skye sighs. A look dawns in her eyes, and it doesn’t take me long to figure it out. “I may be after looking at you . . Fuck, did I say that out loud?” she whispers, looking away from him with wide eyes. 

Harry’s obnoxious belly laughter breaks the silence when he puts his scarlet colored face in his hands. I’m afraid he might piss his pants if he laughs any harder. There’s nothing I can do to stop mine from joining his. Thankfully, Skye and Asher are soon laughing too. A few moments after we’ve collected ourselves, she gets to her feet, walking over to him in a Scooby Doo tie-dyed sweatshirt. This is one of her less eccentric outfits, if I do say so myself. 

“Hi. Um, let me try that again. I’m Skye, Becky’s best friend. And, you must be?” she says, holding out a hand accented with neon pink nail polish. A sound jars me from my watching of the moment. Looking over, I find it to be Harry taking a seat on the corner of my desk, his long legs touching mine. 

“Would ya look at them? Who woulda thought?” he whispers to me, nodding his head at the pair who exchange introductions and laughs. 

“Yeah, God.” 

“Aww, love,” Harry croons, loudly chewing his chocolate. 

“Yeah, speaking of that,” I exclaim in a hushed voice, pinching the inside of his thigh. 

“Ow! What’d ya do that fer? Y’know ‘s sensitive there,” he almost retorts, rubbing the skin underneath his trousers. “You could’ve gotten me balls!” 

“Don’t you give me that look, Harry Styles! You have some explaining to do - what the fuck is this?” I bite back, grabbing my phone and showing him my recent calls. I don’t even have to blink and his eager lips are dealing irresistible laughs, cheeks reddening like a tomato. “I tried to call you like five minutes ago for help with the databases, and I see this! What if I’m with my Dad and you called, Harry?”

There’s no chance he’s saying anything anytime soon, because all he can do is laugh and avoid. Picking up a magazine from my desk, I swat it at his shoulder. 

“Hey, watch it!” Harry warns, but his voice swimming with laughs does little to intimidate me. “That’s tha issue we’re in! Don’t wrinkle it now, we hafta frame that one.” 

Groaning, he carefully pries the copy of the local business magazine, Pulse, that he and Myles were on the cover of. I’m rather sure I wanted to frame it and hang it on my wall, because that was one good picture of Harry, if I ever saw one. 

A tiny yelp leaves my lips when he leans forward and pinches my boob. 

“Harry!” I exclaim, shoving him away, but it’s hard to do so when he’s laughing up a storm. “I’ll do it, I swear to God.” 

“You wouldn’t,” he bets aloud with a disbelieving shake of his head. His lips have begun to quiet down, and so have mine as he stays leaning towards mine, hands resting on his thighs. God, those thighs. “Not in front o’ them.” 

“You pinched my fucking boob in front of them, you don’t think I’ll do it? They don’t even remember we’re here right now,” I bite back, sitting up in my chair and meeting him in the middle. A word readies on his lips, but his face changes instantly when my hand flies to his bum, poking between his cheeks. 

“You li’l shit!” Harry almost yelps, grabbing my hand, only infuriated more by my laughing. 

“Can you two stop being so gay over there? I’m trying to talk to Asher,” Skye pipes up. Harry gives me a funny look at the way she says his name all sultry like. 

“Oooo, kissy kissy,” my boyfriend whispers to me from the cover of his hand. Turning his head with a smirk, our attention goes back to them. Mine only lapses for a moment when Harry pulls my hand into his, thumbing at my promise ring. It was something he had been doing a lot of lately. 

Something I had been doing a lot of lately- well, always was how I could never stop myself from admiring the way he looked in what he wore to work. His suits. If Skye and Asher weren’t in the room right now, although on a different plane of existence it seems, I’m not sure there’d be much stopping me from devouring Harry’s thighs right now. It didn’t help that he had them spread wide open facing me, and that his trousers were especially tight today. 

“You’re bad,” I almost hiss, squeezing his hand. With questioning brows, he looks back to me with a ‘what?’ “Sitting like that.” 

I can’t roll my eyes fast enough at the way his dimples fall into his cheeks with another shit eating grin of his. “Y’know, Becks,” he whispers, moving so he’s full on facing me, showing me a lovely view of the bulge in his pants. “If ya told ‘em t’ leave, ‘d fuck you so hard on that sofa tha second they’re gone.” 

“Harry,” it’s a soft laugh at best, but it doesn’t get very far when his lips smash themselves against mine. 

“Hmmm, seems we got our wish,” he muses aloud, bringing my eyes to the door, watching them leave on their own accord. Skye’s smile couldn’t be brighter, and wait, was Asher blushing? “Hello? Becks?” 

Blinking hard, my eyes snap back over to Harry. Blankly, I watch his every move. The way he slinks off his blazer, revealing the sheer white button-up he had teased me with this morning- well, all day. My bottom lip sings with pain from my teeth when he takes his time pulling his trousers down, exposing the significant bulge in his briefs. A wet circle of precum already marks where the tip of his dick is. 

“Ya got tha door?” he asks, just like every time, and I mumble an impatient response. 

God, I wouldn’t be surprised if I happened to end up pregnant sometime soon, because holy shit, this man. He may be an asshole, but the name he put in my phone wasn’t wrong, that’s for sure. 

/

I had come to memorize many things about Harry, from the way that he would only shave on Friday nights, would drink a glass of water first thing in the morning, and the sounds that he made. All the kinds. He had his own little humming that he did sometimes when he didn’t think anybody noticed, or the way he played with his lips and bit them. 

There was one thing about him that had melted into the background, like so many of them had by now, and that included the sound currently stemming from behind his office door. Words paused on my lips once I stepped inside, instantly mesmerized by the sounds that came from the way his fingers danced across the strings. It seems he had my sounds memorized too, because his stop suddenly, and his eyes are searching for mine. When they land on me, his cheeks crease with a shy smile. 

“You finished it,” it’s more of a statement than a question, despite knowing that he could spend another week perfecting it until he’s happy. He nods with a content smile, mindlessly picking the song slowly. “It sounds amazing, babe, even better than yesterday.” 

He mumbles a few words of thanks before his attention is captured again by the six stringed instrument, head bent over it in concentration. The luster has fled from his lips but the furrow above his nose has returned. 

The question leaves my lips and I’m not sure if I should’ve stopped it, uncertain of the story on his pages, “Alright?” His response isn’t immediate, neither a good or bad sign, I’ve found. With my arms looped around his neck from behind, I have a bird’s eye view of his fingers on his guitar. 

“Jus’ nervous fer t’night,” Harry’s voice is seldom shy, but right now, that word covers it. Over and over. 

“It’ll be okay. It’s just dinner.” 

“Ya right, ‘s the dinner, Becks. I don’t want it t’ go wrong or somethin,’” he remarks, fingers drifting up and down the neck of the guitar. It finds me, hastily and passionately, a sudden decision. I surprise even myself, leaving my stance behind him to walk around the chair, plucking the guitar from his hands. “What d’ya think yer doin’?” it comes out in his joking lilt, a dimple popping. 

“Teach me,” I say, and you’d thought by the look on his face that I had said I was quitting or something worse. It doesn’t stay very long because it melts into a smile that almost touches his ears, if only it could. 

“Thanks, bug,” although it’s not all there, I hear his words. All of them. Thanks for the distraction from my anxious thoughts, Becks. “C’mere, baby.” 

Patting his lap, I roll my eyes when he winks at me, sending me air kisses. I mutter a ‘shut up’ as I carefully take a seat until my back is flush with his chest. Letting him take control, he guides my hands to hold the guitar - left hand grasping the neck at the top and my right resting on the strings over the guitar’s hole. The smile already claiming my lips climbs a little higher at the feeling of his lips sponging a kiss to my cheek. 

“Thank you,” it’s a mere whisper but I catch it. It’s gone in a blink, but the way he placed his face against mine made my heart flutter. It had been a long time since I had let Harry try to teach me guitar again, despite his insisting that I could learn another instrument. Let’s just say that the first few times didn’t go that pretty due to a certain over controlling teacher. 

“Will you help me too?” 

“Mmmhmm,” I respond softly to his nervous question, turning my head ever so slightly to connect my lips with his cheek. “What does E major look like again?”

“This here, Boops,” his breath tickles my cheek, smelling of what else, but black coffee. He really is getting old, I think jokingly to myself, hoping I never have to give up teasing him about his age. I hope that I can keep it going for years and years to come, especially when he actually is old. The thought only makes me wonder what he was like as a teenager, and even just in his twenties, before I had met him. “‘Kay, noodle arms, help me out here.” 

“Oh, sorry,” I wheeze, maneuvering my hand with his help to the second fret, arranging my fingers on the strings. I strum but we both laugh at how bad it sounds, nothing like when he does it. “Harry?” pressing my fingers down more firmly on the metal strings, I drag the hard pick across the strings. Again and again. 

“Ya, Becks?” 

“What were you like when you were younger?”

“What, ‘s this another o’ yer old jokes where ya think yer funny?” he muses, helping me to move my hand again. “Here’s a C, this one may be easier fer you. E and C are some o’ tha main chords. Y’know, many songs don’t have mo’ than 5 chords, so once you master tha main ones, yer golden.” 

“Okay, but I can’t even play one,” it comes out in a giggle, lighter than air. He says something about practice and trying, dodging the question. “No, I’m just curious what you were like . . before I knew you. Baby Harry.” 

“You’ve seen photos o’ me, and heard stories from me mum and sista.” 

“Yeah, you were all hair, that’s nothing new,” the strings have begun to make my fingertips sting. That was one of the reasons I had thrown in the towel so early when it had come to learning guitar. Patience. It’s not something that Harry or I have. “You were in a band in high school, and you worked at a bakery running the till. What else? Like, what did you enjoy doing in your free time? What was your favorite cereal? When was your first real kiss?”

“Y’know some o’ this already, Becks,” a snort of his almost graces my temple where his cheek is pressed to mine. “I listened t’ music almost any chance I got, hung with me best mates - Tommy, Lola, and Morgan. Me fav cereal were tha chocolate puffs, whatever they were called. First kiss, hmm . . I guess me first real one was like fifteen, or somethin’ close t’ that. Here name was Heather Roberts. How’s ‘bout you, love? Seein’ as how we’re doin’ this twenty questions thing, I s’pose ‘s my turn. What was yer first job? First record? Favorite kid program you never missed an episode of?”

“First job was babysitting my neighbor’s two boys. God, they were a handful, two and three and mad as can be. My first record was Abbey Road, my dad’s copy he gave me after I got into The Beatles when I was like, 13. Um, favorite program was What’s New Scooby Doo,” the memories tell themselves. My cheeks fill out with a smile as he nudges his nose against my face, forgetting about the guitar to press repetitive kisses there. “Sir, you’re supposed to be teaching me how to play the guitar, not making out with my neck.” 

“Priorities,” he mumbles. First, there’s the smooth feeling of his nose underneath my ear, and then the contrasting feeling of his hairy upper lip. Squirming, I hadn’t even noticed the guitar was absent from our hands, he must have snuck putting it down. 

“Harry,” my giggle doesn’t last long before he’s turning me in my arms, and smashing his lips against mine the second he gets the chance. Effortlessly, my legs find a place on the other side of his, and my hands fall into his hair, just like always. “We’re supposed to be . . . working,” I hardly get out in between kisses from his busy lips.

“Couldn’t care less,” he insists in sighs. “Yer boss says not t’ worry ‘bout it.” 

“Rose is my boss now.” 

“God, would you please shut up?” his lips buzz against mine with a chuckle, one that I can’t help but copy. Rushed breaths tickle at the other’s skin amidst escaped laughs. There were few moments in the day where I wasn’t enveloped by his scent, one that had by accident spread to me too when I stole his body wash in the shower. My fingers are met with the satiny ribbons of his curly hair, despite his often protests to not mess it up after he had finally gotten it perfect in the morning. 

A squeak escapes me when his rings press against my bum through my black slacks, some harsher than others. I just make out the beginning of his mischievous laugh as my body shifts above him, finally settling down on top of his lap. 

“Woman,” Harry grumbles against my mouth, trapping my bottom lip between his sharp teeth. My giggle turns into a whine of pain with the pressure of his teeth. It only stays at the feeling of his crotch bucking up against mine from beneath. “You drive me mad,” a long sigh touches my lips when I tug down, listening to the sound of his zipper. 

“Priorities,” I echo, watching the way his rosebud lips spread with sunshine. 

/

“Breathe.” 

“I can’t, dunno how you can,” it comes out as a perturbed sigh and nothing less. “‘m sorry, don’t mean t’ get short with you.” 

“It’s okay,” I answer, feeling the way his rings pinch my skin when I squeeze his hand. 

“Hope so,” is all Harry says when he glances over at me, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“He’ll come, it’s only been a few minutes. You were like, ten minutes late for our first date, don’t you remember?”

“Oh ya,” his cheeks couldn’t be more red as they’re attacked with a surprise smile. “God, I still can’t believe I did that.” 

“Neither can I. That’ll be a good story to tell our kids.” 

“Ya, we’ve got loads o’ ‘em, and plenty o’ embarrassin’ ones ‘bout you,” he quips with a sly grin, making me shake my head. “What? If yer gonna tell tha bad ones ‘bout me, then ‘ll tell tha bad ones ‘bout you,” his lips end in a curled smile, the first one I’ve seen him share since we stepped foot in this place. 

“Seems ‘ve missed a good joke,” a voice comments from nowhere. Our heads both whip to the side, and before I’ve seen him, I notice it. The way Harry’s lips have fallen into a line, and the way his adam’s apple bobs nervously in his throat. 

“You didn’t miss anything good, don’t worry,” I assure him, standing to my feet with Harry.

“Please, sit down, there’s no need fer that,” Harry’s dad says with a wave of his hand, and we oblige. Undoing the button on his coal gray suit, he falls into the chair opposite. “‘m sorry if I kept you waitin’, traffic was a bitch.” 

“Oh, it’s fine. We haven’t been waiting long. How was your day, Mr. Styles?” I find myself saying, instantly hearing a titter from Harry, followed by his father. God, these similarities are mad. First, the comment about traffic, and now, this. 

“‘s Dez, none o’ that Mr. Styles rubbish.” 

“Rememba when ya used t’ call me that?” my boyfriend chirps, cocking his head to the side in a funny way. Laughs pass between us and our inside joke. 

Looking back to Harry’s dad, a question sits in his eyes, ones similar to Harry’s. I’d met him twice now, but it still amazes me how he looks like his dad. It’s like meeting his mum all over again, seeing him in them. 

“I was his assistant before, at the firm,” my explanation comes, and so does the realization on his face. 

“Oh, yes. I think we met befo’ then. That was what, four years ago? ‘m sorry we had t’ meet that way.” 

“It’s okay,” it’s automatic, and so is the next few minutes sitting in silence staring at our menus. It’s as if I can hear all of the conversations around me but ours in this restaurant decorated with white tablecloths. 

I’m not sure why Harry had to pick such a fancy place until I asked him, and he said it was his Dad’s idea entirely. I’d never been here, but Harry had, hence why he was pointing at my menu with whispers. Sometimes, it was hard to not stare at him while he talked, memorizing the way his lips moved when he spoke. The way his entire face could change with a flick of his eyebrows, or a lift of his lips. Tonight, I resisted, knowing how much was riding on this dinner with his dad. How important it was to him that it went well, and I understood, or as much as I could having a parent I didn’t talk to. 

“This ‘s good, and Myles likes their steaks. Maybe you’d like this one with tha pasta,” he mumbles, his long pointer finger dragging over the off white, paper menu. I could tell that he was nervous, from the way he bit at his lip to how his thumb hadn’t stopped rubbing the inside of my thigh under the table. 

Now, I wasn’t sure who to watch, my boyfriend beside me who kneaded at his bottom lip, or his father who did the same thing with his. It amused me, how I kept being surprised at the mannerisms between the two. First, there was the deep voice and the accent. Then, there were the almond green eyes, the towering height, and the nose. It was uncanny, the resemblance, even more so than his mum, I thought. What physical features he didn’t have of his mum’s, he made up for with his kindness and warmth of her’s. He got the sense of style from her, I think silently when I see the plain white shirt underneath his father’s blazer, and the denims I saw when he walked in. 

Our meals had been ordered and waters had been poured. Soon, the questions began, too. 

“So, you met workin’ at Harry’s firm?” his dad asks, scratching at his head. One lone ring sat on a pinkie, and his hair couldn’t be further from Harry’s. I couldn’t figure out where he’d gotten the curls from, seeing his mother’s wavy black hair, and his dad’s cropped gray head of hair. 

“Yeah, back in . . 2021. I was his personal assistant for a little bit that fall before I left for a different job.” 

“Ah, I see,” he muses aloud, awkwardness ensuing. Again. It wasn’t just him. The both of us had found it hard to retell this part of our story to anybody. Anybody who didn’t know us, or who wasn’t there. “And you came back, I see. ‘ve heard yer a rather great lawyer already.” His words bring me to turn to my boyfriend who does a poor job of hiding a smile whilst drinking water. 

“Yeah, I really like it there. I’ve hopped around working with some of the lawyers there, but I think I might have a favorite.” 

“I don’t blame you. Myles has always been my favorite too,” Dez chuckles, and like his son, it’s contagious. Harry yelps with a small protest, clucking his tongue at the both of us. “So, what are yer plans at tha firm?”An answer escapes me, and I turn my head, looking for it in the man next to me. 

He mouths a ‘what’ at me before messing with his hair, pressing his palm against my thigh in encouragement. If you could even call it that. 

“Well, right now I’m completing my mentorship, which will probably last another year and a half. So, I’m halfway. After that, I’m not sure. I’m just trying to get over this hill right now.” 

He nods with my words, taking a long drink from his pint he’d ordered. It still can remind me of the look on Harry’s face when he debated whether or not to mention that he doesn’t drink anymore, despite his father’s harmless badgering to order him a whiskey on the rocks. His old favorite. 

“Maybe you won’t be working by then, who knows. Anne and I had begun to have kids when we were yer age, or ‘s that not somethin’ you’d both want?” it’d be an understatement to say that his question had caught us off guard. I could tell by the way Harry’s thumb had stopped drawing circles over the fabric over my dress. 

“We’re not that far yet, Dad, but . . ,” when he trails off, I meet Harry’s eyes, catching the glimmer in them at the mention of a family. “We think we’d like t’ have a few or more, sometime soon. Afta a wedding, o’course.” 

“So ‘ve heard, that’s rather excitin.’ I know you’ve always wanted this, t’ find a great girl and t’ become a dad, Hare. Seems yer halfway there,” his dad comments. As if from the sidelines, I watch on as Harry nods at his father with the smallest of smiles on his face, making me wonder what he could be thinking. “You’d make a great one, you’ve turned into a great young man, son.” 

“Thank you,” it was the smallest of many I’d heard from him, but the glint in his eyes spoke volumes to what he’d really wanted to say. Even if I couldn’t remember how much his dad had been around when he was growing up, it seemed to mean a lot to Harry for him to say that. “I uh, have this one t’ thank that fer. . quite a lot, actually.” 

Blinking hard, I suddenly feel their eyes on me. I blame the warmth in my cheeks from that in Harry’s eyes, the sunshine overflowing from them. “He’s come a long way. I’m very proud of him too,” emotion weighs down my words, more of it speaking through my fingers when I lay my hand on top of his that hasn’t left my thigh since we sat down. 

He wasn’t my son, so I couldn’t relate there. Regardless, it felt like I knew how his parents felt when they looked at Harry, because pride poured out of me just at the sight of him. I was sure that if I said another word about it the feeling would come out of me in tears. 

/

“What do you think?”

“‘Bout what, love?” his voice sounds far away, despite it being just across the middle console from me. 

“Dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” Harry sighs, realization tying his voice together. A further response doesn’t come, but his attention is on the cars behind him, where he looks while trying to merge onto the highway. “It was good, I thought. How’s ‘bout you?”

“I agree, it was good. I no longer see your dad as this big, scary bloke,” I joke, knowing I should regret it when it doesn’t pull a smile from his lips. I hardly know him, but he may still be that to Harry, because only he knows the real him. Just like with my mum. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking-.” 

“Oh, yer fine, Becks,” he insists, but there’s something else. I can’t quite grasp it, despite the effort I put in to try and open his book again. 

“Alright?”

“Ya, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Don’t lie to me, Harry Styles,” I insist softly, dancing my hand across until it arrives on his warm thigh. He doesn’t speak but instead, he sighs, and laces a hand with mine. 

“Jus’ nervous . . still.” 

“Why? It went really well tonight, Harry, without a hitch,” I tell him, unable to look away and to the window. I had lived here for years now, and so the sights hadn’t amazed me for a while now. 

“I know, ‘s mad, but . . I don’t wanna get my hopes up, Becks. He’s done this befo’, charmed his way back into me life. ‘s all normal at first and almost too good t’ be true, until he turns like a light switch, explodin’ on me ‘bout somethin’ or bein’ a dick again.” 

“It’s like they become another person, right?” my experiences flood my words, and all he does is nod, staring ahead at the road. Despite his silence, the tips of his calloused fingers drag up and down the spanse of my fingers. “I know how you’re feeling, and it’s okay to feel that way, Harry. I understand that you don’t want to get excited and have it all just be for nothing if he turns on you again.” Like they so often are, his nods seem silent but they’re brimming with unsaid words. Fearful ones, and worried, as well. More than he lets on. “I wish I could tell you that it’ll be okay, Harry, but I hope it’ll be.”

“Thanks, Becks. Me too,” his voice is soft, but the way his fingers press against mine is loud. He can’t help the way the worry shouts from the lines and frown on his face, either. I just hope that I can do a good job of hiding mine. 

/

Voices drown amongst each other in my ears, one after the other. An off white mug is set down in front of me, a painting of a cat donning the front. 

“Sugar? Cream?”

“Yes, please,” my answer comes, and a dish with a spoon graces the table next. 

“How’ve you been, love?”

“Good, and you, Claire?” he looks like her, or so I think he does. When her eyes lift to him standing across the room, I see it in the glimmer in her eye. 

“I’ve been doing well, thanks for asking. Harry seems happy.” 

“Yeah, you could say that,” it comes out in a laugh, and when she shares it with me, I see the hint of a dimple in her cheek. Happiness may leak from ours, but the boisterous one of Harry’s from across the kitchen trumps ours completely. “I love his laugh.” 

“Me too, it’s always been so happy, ever since he was a baby.” 

When I look, nostalgia sits in the lines around her mouth and eyes, memories from the last eighty years of her life held in her eyes. A content smile doesn’t budge from her lips as she brings the mug to them again. I’d never tell anybody this, but I think Harry’s gran was my favorite of his family, despite there being so many good ones to choose from. It was the eyes and the smile, I think, where I saw him in her. Glancing between them, the happiness was contagious, just like his always is. 

“What?” he chuckles when he looks to us, talking with his hands, like always. Shaking my head at him, I bring the steaming mug back to my lips, watching as he returns to talking with an old mate of his, Tommy. Every few moments, his eyes squeeze shut with another bout of laughter. 

“I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.” Turning my head, I catch her cerulean blue eyes sitting on me with a knowing smile. The similarities are absent otherwise, noting her ivory colored hair cropped short around her ears. “Thank you, Becky.” 

“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” the pieces haven’t clicked together for me yet, sitting unsolved in the expression of confusion I give her over my mug of tea. 

“I think you know.” 

Her laugh is short and cute, as is the wink she gives me. Okay, maybe he is more like her than I thought. I’d only met her a few times now, starting with the first time Harry brought me home to Cheshire where he grew up, last Christmas at his Mum’s, and now for a weekend home. 

“His other girlfriends, they didn’t make him happy like this. Not even close,” her explanation comes with a shake of her head, eyes on her grandson. I follow them, unable to stop looking at Harry and the sunshine that radiates from him, and his happy lips. 

He was a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. It was always suits and ties for him at work, but at home it was a different story. Today, it was a blue cap turned backwards over his gorgeous curls, and a black and blue flannel with dark skinny jeans. “I’d never seen him more upset than around the time my husband died, that year before it seemed horrible for him too. It all had come to a head for him, it broke my heart. I wanted to ask what was going on, but wasn’t sure how to until the two of you told me how you had met the last time he brought you here, and it all made sense. The way he had lost you, and then found you again. I wouldn’t know where he’d be if it weren’t for you, Becky, and I hear a wedding is on the horizon.” 

“I’m hoping so,” I muse aloud, feeling the familiar surface of the promise ring on my ring finger, remembering when we had explained it each time a question arose. “I’m not sure where I’d be without him either, he’s my anchor.” 

“I don’t think you’ll have to hope, honey. He’s really serious about you,

he’s told me himself.” 

“H-He has?” I don’t know why I was surprised, but I still was. The fluttering inside of my chest still came when I watched him remove his hat, and comb a hand through his matted curls. I wonder if it’d ever stop, but I was rather sure it never would. 

“Can I hope to be a great grandmother again soon?” 

“Excuse me?” I chuckle, having to set down my mug whilst choking on my tea. 

“Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to surprise you there,” she apologizes. With red cheeks, I wipe a napkin across my face, feeling Harry’s eyes on me. 

“Gran, don’t rough her up too much over there,” he quips from his Mum’s kitchen island, placing a slice of cheese on a cracker that he feeds between his lips. Somehow, he looked like how I thought he would as a teenager or a uni student with that outfit. It was cute as hell, and only made me wish more that I had known him then, because there could never be enough time with him. 

“I’m not,” Claire laughs, patting my back. At last, I’ve recovered and take a long pull from my mug. 

“One day soon I hope, but don’t hold your breath too much,” I decide to say, my eyes unmoving from Harry’s figure as they come out. Standing there, he talks animatedly with his friend Tommy who sits across from him on a stool, his mum doing laundry in the other room. Harper and Ollie were due to arrive soon for a family lunch, and I wasn’t sure of how it could get better, except for a little baby on Harry’s hip one day. 

One step at a time, Becky, but when have we ever done things in order? 

/

The smile on her face warms me from the inside, and it only grows as a laugh erupts on her lips, shared between her and my gran. Two of my favorite people in the entire bloody world. I’m rather sure that I could listen to that sound for my entire life, and then some. 

“So, when ya plannin’ to do it, H?” 

“Soon.” 

Just a few more weeks, Becks, and then, forever. 

#harry styles #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles wattpad #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #boss!harry #ceo!harry #lawyer!harry #asshole!harry #angst #fiction #fanfiction #wattpad #writing #romance #teen fiction #young adult #YA #becks holte #harry x becks #hecky #becky holte #lawyer romance #office romance #the assistant h.s. #personal assistant romance #dad!harry #boyfriend!harry #guitar

[stelloids]

skye talkin shit about my boyfriend 😤

#acnh #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #sleepywood stories #acnh spoilers

[dyrwoodan]

i want to have like,, more ocs. and i do have some wip ones. or more like.. i've had them for a while now but i don't have time or energy to make them into something more :/ just wanted to make a quick post about them with some basic points about what i have so far. and i want to include them in my oc page later but rn i haven't had much time to develop them both because i'm just not feeling overly creative lately and also because i'm not playing games much and since they are from games i haven't even finished yet,, ye, i don't have much.

skye - trans and angry, unpredictable and a bastard, because it wouldn't be a ravcore oc if they weren't a bastard in some shape or form - loves arson and his machete - he's from fnv. haven't played much so i need to finish the game first to have more on him lol but 'tis what i have so far - kinda uhhh a.. vent oc? idk?? same with rowan tbh. i made them both around the same time and like. i been havin some issues. i've chosen to address these issues by making them into ocs lmao because i don’t exactly want to talk about it - so they are (both) my first trans ocs ig - idk tbh i've been thinking about some of my other ocs being trans, like kaz caiwyn and ryon, and i'm still playing around with that but.. i just didn't feel like talking about it because i'm scared (??) of something?? - but i made skye and i made rowan and i was like... hm. they are trans. so there's that

rowan (??) - idk i liked rowan when i made them but i might change the name to somehting more elfy and longer and fancy - they are a dunmer, morrowind oc - same as with skye, haven't finished morrowind yet so,, - so i mean so far rowan is a potter in vivec lmao but we'll get to the nerevarine stuff later - but i like them... being just a potter tbh - because (being lost) wandering around vivec at one point i came across a pottery?? and it was?? so cute :/ i miss pottery. i used to do that. t'was relaxing. - so rowan is a potter. i'm still looking for morag tong. let me iiiiiin

ma'reisha - khajiit oc in skyrim - i wanted to start a completely new playthrough and play the actual game with main quest n shit because when i play as ravell i just goof around lol - but i don't have much on her yet? i just? like her board?? - her aesthetic is grey. i love grey. - so far what i have on her is that she is...... distant. - idk how to insert her into skyrim tho. into ravell-verse i mean. maybe she'll be a completely new dragonborn? in a skyrim where ravell doesn't exist? which sounds horrible tbh, can't imagine ravell not existing :/ - idk we’ll have to think about this a bit more

aaliyah - idk who followed me back on my old blog but i also think i had her for a while on this new one? - she was my first ever warden. cousland. i made caiwyn and he kinda took over so i deleted her from my oc page but - i still very much care about her lol i think about bringing her back because i've been updating her board anyway - i just felt like.. only caiwyn can exist... but what if...... she exists in caiwyn-verse.. hmm - gotta think on this a bit more. as with all of the above. like i said, i just didn't have much time to think but i want to because all i do is basically save things into boards on pinterest - and thank god for that tbh at least i feel like i'm not neglecting my ocs completely

wren - i know i had them on my oc page but since i'm not playing poe i removed them temporarily - but i would love to get back to poe one day and bring wren back :/

cassian - while we're talkin about poe - he was another oc i wanted to make in poe after wren's playthrough - idk much about poe and i also don't remember much from what i knew lmao rip but,, - i wanted him to be a fancy painter from old valia and he has a cool aesthetic and a neat board - thatse it - but when i made my morrowind oc (rowan) i thought about changing cassian from a poe oc to that in morrowind - so idk i might just merge them into one

ok i realized this is more like.. a stream of consciousness lmao and it's very incoherent and idk if i'll ever talk about some of these ocs again but.. i wanted to ramble. i don't feel like doing anythinggggg tbh but at least....... i had actual Thoughts about some ocs so, that's good. would love it if my brain returned from war tho. pleas e..... come back i want to develop my ocs.......................

#don't//rb #fern.txt #ocs.txt #long post #''just gonna make some quick points'' #yea #well it got kinda long lmao what can ye do eh? #idkkkk why is it so looooong i guess i'm just compensating for not being here much and not posting any new oc content #and for the first time after a while i had some thoughts so i had to write them down and like hey. why not share them while im at it #and i'm also trying so hard to.. get through this last week. i have to think about cats and nice things and my ocs #to keep me sane or whatever #man...... this is hard. i have to be there for another 5 days next week. 5 days suddenly seems like such a long period

[scoutgaming]

man i. its hard to tell whether it's skye making shit up for me or if it's me actually remembering shit.

cus they're like a computer? n i dunno how this makes sense, but it works lightning fast and gives out suggestions before i can think. and then when somethin makes sense, i start to believe it's real. but that doesn't make it real

and it's hard to grapple with that sometimes - unsure of what's real in here or not

i think skye's gotta let me talk to people outside of discord, but they refuse to simply cus they can't get the accent down

i mean. I'd prefer it but i also just needa talk

HOWEVER i get so tired to easily, even when i ain't fronting. just gettin' here is so taxing n while talkin n stuff is fun n all that, it takes a lot outta me.

and no matter how much both of us want me to be here, i don't have that much energy. skye is a big power house of that stuff, but it ain't like it can distribute it.

#scout.txt #unreality

[werewolfdays]

Taking Chances

Jayde tries to deal with a new person at the Lodge - 

“So we already have seven people volunteering for redirect.” Skye told me, showing me the names on her tablet as we walked towards the Den. 

I nodded, “I want at least a dozen, we’re gonna need numbers to get the attention of those hunters and spread them out.” 

“Yeah, you’re right, but people aren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to throw themselves in front of a faction that big and organized.” My sister gave me a knowing shrug, “They don’t have a death wish like you do.”

I ignored her comment. “Well, staying here and doing nothing is just as much of a death wish. Might as well hand hunters the keys to this place.” It wasn’t that I didn’t understand their fear, I just didn’t respect inaction. 

Skye started tapping on the tablet screen, barely even looking where she was walking, “Might wanna work on your sales pitch, then. Your whole ‘The End is nigh’ thing kinda freaks everyone out.” 

“I’m hardly that dramatic,” I said with an eye roll, “Besides, the end of this place really is nigh if we can’t lead these hunters away.”

“I know, I know. I just meant that you could be a little more optimistic and inspiring. Like Nadya.” 

“Then she can do a speech.” 

“Maybe she should.” Skye mumbled distractedly. 

“Have you drawn up different routes we could lead them through yet?” I asked, craning my neck to see the screen. 

“Huh?” She looked up briefly, tilting the face of the tablet out of my view, “Oh, yeah I’ll get right on that.” 

My eyes narrowed, “What are you doing on that thing?” 

“Blueprint work. Floor planning.” My little sister replied suspiciously quickly. 

“For what?” I reached for the tablet, but she yanked it back, just out of my grasp.

When I went to grab it again, she skipped away from me and scowled, “Hey, mind your bee’s wax!” 

“I wanna know why your eyes are glued to that screen all the time.” 

“Oh, really, you’re gonna pull the Baby Boomer crap and say that it’ll rot my brain?”

I chased after her when she avoided my grasping hands yet again, “Please, you were born with a rotted brain already.”

She started walking backwards and pointed a thumb at herself, “This rotted brain was an honor student, so you really shouldn’t be talkin’ shit with your half-baked high school education.” 

While she was able to keep the tablet out of my reach, she couldn’t stop me from swooping my arm around and catching her in a headlock. Skye didn’t even bother to fight back, she knew she wouldn’t be able to break free. Instead, she went completely limp and sank down to the floor, dragging me with her until I was kneeling with a rag doll held in my arms. Like that would get me to let her go. 

“You suck.” She growled. 

“Give it up.” I urged, squeezing her a little harder. 

Skye squeaked and handed over the tablet. I snatched it from her, letting her go so I could look at what she had really been doing. It seemed to be a cartoon city. Colorful buildings were neatly organized with tiny people roaming about aimlessly. I frowned in confusion and realized that this was a game of some sort. That Skye had built this little town with its pink-bricked houses and bright flower gardens. 

I raised an eyebrow at her, “Are you fucking with me?”

“It’s my town, do you like it?” She asked excitedly, leaning over to tap on a house, “Look, I just got the materials for this new wallpaper that has stars on it.” 

I groaned loudly and tossed the tablet back into her lap, “Please do the important stuff before you play that, at least.”

The both of us stood up and resumed our walk to the Den. Skye had gone back to furiously tapping on the screen again, “Yeah, I’ll get to the routes after I finish harvesting coins.” 

My eyes rolled so hard that I almost tipped my whole body over. 

I wasn’t sure how I always knew where she was, but my eyes landed right where Nadya sat every single time I entered the Den. It was almost like an instinct, being immediately drawn to her. Today, she was sitting at a table by one of the tall windows and soaking up some sunlight with a steaming mug cupped in her hands. I smiled at the calming image of her until I realized she wasn’t sitting alone. 

Skye looked up when I stopped dead in my tracks and followed my line of sight. The company Nadya had shockingly made Skye completely forget about her game, “Holy shit, is that Elaine Reinhart? Like, Lone Wolf Elaine? The Elaine that turned that hiker into shredded meat?” 

“Yes, I get it, thank you.” I growled through clenched teeth. “It is that Elaine.”

She let out low a whistle, “Man, you know, I gotta give your girlfriend credit. She really is good at making friends.”

“I don’t know what the hell she thinks she’s doing making friends with her though.” I grumbled and moved to storm my way over to them. Every cell in my body was screaming at that hazard being so close to Nadya when I didn’t have a clue. 

“Whoa, hey, wait a sec,” Skye caught my arm and halted my momentum, “Maybe it’s fine, they’re just having coffee.” 

I glared at my sister, “You’re joking, right?” 

Skye looked at me like I was an idiot. “I really doubt Elaine is gonna randomly lean over the table and take a chunk out of Nadya.” 

Sure, it was likely the chances of that were pretty low, but my instinct to protect was far too dominant to be comfortable with a potential threat being around my girlfriend. I ignored Skye yet again and continued forward. 

Elaine wasn’t in any formal wear like she was when I last saw her at Miranda’s gathering. Her brunette curls were tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her sharp features. The absence of makeup revealed a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that accentuated the gray of her eyes. Elaine looked a lot more relaxed than she had at the gathering, probably because there wasn’t any pressure hanging over her head from her pack. It eased some of my panic too see her look so easygoing as she chatted with Nadya, but I wouldn’t let that lower my guard. 

However, when Elaine saw me approach and noted my expression, her demeanor changed completely. She sat up straighter, her sharp jawline became set, and her hands balled into fists almost as if she expected me to deck her right then and there. I didn’t want to hurt her, I just wanted her at a safe distance from Nadya. A simple wooden table between them wasn’t enough to stop the violent images of Nadya being her next accidental mauling from flashing into my mind. 

“I thought you were smarter than this.” I barked at Elaine once I got to their table. “My mistake.” 

“Excuse me?” Her dark eyebrows raised at the accusation. 

“Hey,” Nadya beckoned, her hand fitting against mine as she pulled me closer to her. My eyes remained on Elaine, but the rest of my senses tuned into Nadya’s presence, “Relax, it’s okay.” 

“She knows better than to be around you when I’m not here.” 

“You’re right. I do know better.” Elaine said, holding my glower with barely a flinch, “I know when I can or can’t handle a situation, and having some company with my cup of tea isn’t exactly risky business.” 

“It is with her.” I snapped.

Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip gave a subtle twitch, “I don’t really think that’s up to you to decide.” 

My gaze traveled to Nadya briefly. She was giving me an imploring look with those warm brown eyes, silently asking me to back down. I felt her thumb caress the back of my hand, making my skin prickle. Elaine was right, I can’t take control of who Nadya wants to spend time with. I didn’t want to control that either, but the uncertainty of her safety was what kept agitating my fears. “I would feel more comfortable if you stayed away from her.” 

The way I posed my request was calm, thanks to Nadya, and I actually saw Elaine soften a bit in understanding. Then she sighed and shared a look with my girlfriend before meeting my eyes again, “I told you before that she isn’t in any danger with me, but—” 

“Then prove it.” 

Elaine leaned back in confusion, “What?”

“You said at the manor that you usually keep your word. Prove it. Give me a reason to trust you.” 

She stood up from her chair to be at eye-level with me. I didn’t sense any aggression, but there was still something challenging about the way her gray eyes bore into mine. The impulse to growl itched at the back of my throat and I felt Nadya’s hand tighten around mine, so I held it back to wait for Elaine’s answer. 

“I usually don’t waste my time proving myself to people I don’t have to, but...” She eyed Nadya again and then her gaze drifted back up at me, “What did you have in mind?”

The sun was beginning to set, but light rays still peeked through the trees and illuminated the small clearing we were standing in. My wolf could sense that I was about to set it free, becoming restless and excited under my skin. Both of us were eager for a fight. Even if it was just a sparring exercise. 

I looked to Elaine as she patiently stretched her limbs and prepared herself for a shift. “You’re absolutely sure you can handle being a wolf with her here?” I asked, glancing at where Nadya was standing with Toby and Skye at the edge of the clearing.

She rolled her eyes at me, “Yes. Believe me, I don’t want to put her in danger any more than you do.” 

“I guess we’ll see.” I grumbled, mostly to myself as I tried not to feel like it was a huge mistake to have the human here. Then I motioned at Elaine, “Whenever you’re ready to go.” 

Elaine nodded, “It will take me a few minutes to get it started. I try not to force it.”

“Sure, okay.” I said dismissively and returned to Nadya’s side, placing a quick kiss on her temple. She gave me a small smile for the affection that boosted some of my confidence. 

“This is just a spar, right?” She asked me quietly, “Not a reason for you to actually fight?” 

“I promise I’m not looking to spill any blood.” I told her. 

“Okay, just… be careful.” 

“I will.” I promised. Then I took a step towards Skye and Toby, looking them both in the eye seriously for a moment before requesting something under my breath, “Please watch her.”

Skye gave me a nod, followed by Toby. They both knew I was asking them to make sure Nadya would be safe if things got out of control. With that assurance, I directed my line of sight to Elaine again and waited for her shift to start. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the clearing, her eyes closed and her breathing purposefully steady. I’ve never seen someone summon their wolf in such a way. It was admittedly very interesting to witness. Elaine looked so serene, like a young woman meditating in the middle of the woods. And then the first crack of a shifting bone echoed throughout the trees and made her body jolt. 

Taking that as my cue, I began removing my clothing to change forms as well. It took a little while, just like Elaine said, but soon there were two wolves ready to face off with each other. 

I regarded Elaine’s wolf form. Her fur was a warmer shade of brown, perfect camouflage against the ground and the surrounding tree trunks. The color of it actually had a striking resemblance to my father’s fur. That realization made my careful stride falter, but I forced the emotion that awakened within me aside so I could focus. She was closer to Skye in size, a fair bit smaller than I was, but she made up for it in muscle mass. I noted how the sculpted shape of her body rippled under her thick fur when she shook her ruff. Clearly she spent a lot of time working in this form. 

I slowly circled her, taking her in and waiting for a reaction. Elaine allowed me to inspect her and regarded my form as well with her pale yellow eyes. It wasn’t until I cautioned a closer proximity that her hackles rose defensively, a warning growl sounding in the space between us. 

My body froze and tensed. I returned her growl with my own ferocious snarl, baring my teeth in a challenge. Elaine flinched for just a moment, allowing me to take that opportunity to strike. I slammed onto her and Elaine twisted her body out of the way to avoid my snapping jaws, but I continued to advance. My teeth found purchase and I bit down on her neck, holding back slightly so I wouldn’t break the skin or cause injury. I thrashed my head to the side, effectively throwing her down and pinning her. 

Elaine growled in her struggle, working her back legs underneath me to claw at my stomach hard enough to push me off. Once she was free and had a better angle for a counter attack, we engaged in a grapple. Elaine wasn’t that bad of a fighter, she was able to maintain a steady offensive strategy against me, but I could tell she relied too heavily on her strength since she lacked in tactical skill. Each blow from her teeth or claws almost knocked me off balance, and even did a few times, but I knew how to stay on my feet and go for weak points. She couldn’t figure out how to keep me down, which I sensed was starting to irritate her. 

We suddenly broke away from each other to catch our breath. Elaine was panting like a racehorse, giving me the impression that she was pushing herself too hard and getting overtaken by frustration. I caught the way her glowing eyes were burning at me. The intensity of her glare caught me off guard and when she charged, I didn’t have the time to prepare myself. Elaine’s attack was too aggressive for this to be just sparring anymore. My focus shifted with the scent of sudden rage. Clearly, this was the lapse in control that I feared. Her jaws clamped down hard on my shoulder and she forced me down like I did to her, only now it was more violent. I craned my neck around, biting down on her front leg and attempted to yank her off me. 

I couldn’t hear anything else besides her furious growls. Even when I bit harder, tasting some of her blood in my mouth, Elaine still wouldn’t let me go, so I went with a more direct approach. She might be stronger than average, but she wasn’t stronger than I was. I let go of her leg and forced myself to stand, bucking hard enough to throw her off of me. I could feel her fangs tear through a few layers of flesh on my shoulder. I knew right away that it was more than likely I would need some stitches. 

As soon as I was free of Elaine, I glared as hard as I could at her, barking loudly to remind her this was just an exercise. She continued to snarl in defiance, pacing around me to look for another opening. I held my ground and stared her down, my second warning an even deeper growl, loud enough to drown hers out. If this didn’t work, then I would have to force her submission physically, and I wasn’t eager to do that kind of thing to a wolf like Elaine. Thankfully, I finally seemed to get through to her. Her snarls quieted and she bowed her head, ears flattening as she backed away from me. My growl slowly tapered off in an effort to calm everything down. 

My ear twitched at the sound of a couple footsteps moving in our direction behind me. I quickly turned my head, giving Nadya a small bark to let her know she needed to stay right where she was. Elaine’s control was very questionable in her wolf form, just like I expected, and I couldn’t allow Nadya anywhere near her right now. It seemed like Elaine understood this, so she stayed where she was, flattening her body against the ground with an apologetic whine. Confident that she would remain there, I went to Nadya. She kneeled in front of me, parting my stained fur carefully to get a look at the wounds on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asked. I gently nuzzled my head against her in reassurance. Then she glanced over my shoulder at Elaine, “Elaine, are you alright?” 

The wolf only huffed in acknowledgement. 

I gave Elaine a purposeful look and started to shift into my human form, hoping she would get the hint and shift back too. There wasn’t any need for more sparring. The excitement was enough for today and I had seen all I needed to see.

After finishing my transformation and getting dressed, Nadya continued to fuss over me, putting pressure on my wound to staunch the flow of blood. I patiently allowed her to work on me while I watched Elaine carefully. The chocolate brown wolf stayed still on the ground, her eyes closed, and she took slow and steady breaths like she had when she was activating the change earlier. My eyes narrowed curiously, wondering if she had to perform some zen yoga crap every single time she shifted forms. Others have their own way of doing it, I guess.

I waited until Elaine was fully dressed to gently push Nadya away so I could approach the other werewolf. I didn’t get too close, just in case I agitated her into losing control again, but I didn’t try to hide my anger either. 

“Really glad you have control now.” I jabbed with bitter sarcasm. 

“Jayde.” Nadya quietly scolded behind me. 

Elaine scowled, “You frustrated me, that’s all that was.” 

I glanced down at the torn flesh on my shoulder and casted my glare back up at her, “Oh, clearly.” 

“Look,” She snapped, taking a step towards me, “If I really had lost control, this would have been a lot bloodier. Keep pushing and maybe it will be.” 

The look on her face was the same burning expression I saw in her wolf form. I fixed her with a hard stare and said each word in my next sentence incredibly slowly, “Take. It. Easy.” 

“I will when you stop treating me like a bomb that’s about to go off.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“Jayde, come here.” Nadya commanded. 

Her voice took on an assertive tone that I rarely ever hear from her. One that I hadn’t been able to disobey before, so my feet took a few steps backwards before my brain caught up. I turned to Nadya, seeing that she wasn’t pleased with me, but couldn’t figure out why she thought I was in the wrong here. Part of my job is making sure she’s safe, making sure others at the Lodge would be safe. Any werewolf that can’t control themselves is a recipe for catastrophe. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” I said, “You saw her behavior.” 

“Well, yours isn’t exactly helping the situation either.”

I raised my hands in exasperation before dropping them at my sides, “Then how should I be acting? She could have come after you. You do realize that, right?” 

“I never would have done that. I don’t go after humans.” Elaine chimed in. 

I threw a look over my shoulder, “Except that one time.” 

“Jayde, Nadya’s right, you’ve been instigating.” Toby said. His words were careful, but no less firm, “It’s like you want her to lose control just so she can prove you right.” 

I gave him an incredulous blink, “You think I would manipulate the situation just so I could kick her out?” 

His arms were crossed defensively and his eyes fell to the ground, “If you thought it would protect Nadya… yes.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Skye answered for him, making me feel even more ganged up on by my own pack. “It means that you’re not willing to give anyone a chance if there’s even the slightest possibility that they could hurt someone you love.” 

“I can’t believe this.” I growled, staring at all of them until I had to turn away, “So she tears some innocent human apart and then I find her with my very human girlfriend and suddenly I’m a paranoid asshole for not being comfortable with it?” 

Nadya sighed, “No one is calling you an asshole, but you can be out of line sometimes. Just like you are right now.”

“Out of line is this,” I pointed at my shoulder, at the blood still staining my tank top, “Not calling someone out for how unpredictable and dangerous they are.” 

Her eyes stayed on mine for a few more moments before they fell as she took half a step towards Elaine. My hand instinctually clamped down on her arm to stop her, “What are you doing?”

“I need to check her, Jayde.” Nadya said in a calm, but stern tone. That look she gave me just a couple seconds earlier landing back on me. “Are you really not going to let me do my job?” 

“Nadya, you saw—”

“I’ve dealt with wolves far more dangerous than Elaine at the clinic.” Then Nadya motioned to herself, “I’m still alive. Still human.”

I frowned at her in shock, “What do you mean you’ve dealt with wolves more dangerous?” 

“Not the conversation we need to have right now, Jayde.” Nadya said, sounding more than a little annoyed with me. 

She pulled herself free from my grasp and went towards Elaine, though I still followed close behind just in case. I wasn’t about to risk even the smallest chance that Nadya could be hurt, even if she believed she wasn’t in any danger. Her offhand comment about the dangers she’s experienced in the clinic ate at the back of my mind. It horrified me, but maybe that meant she knew what she was doing in this situation just as much as I did. Some of my anger dissipated, but I still knew that I was right. 

“Let me have a look at that arm.” She said. 

“Nadya, I…” Elaine’s expression was guilty when she looked at Nadya. 

“It’s okay.” Nadya reassured her softly. The tone of her voice calmed my nerves as well. “Things happen. Just try to be more careful next time.”

Elaine glanced at me before offering Nadya her wounded forearm and she carefully examined the bite I left there. Blood seeped out of Elaine’s puncture wounds, but I hadn’t ripped her flesh like she had with my shoulder. I clenched my jaw when the frustration started boiling back up. 

“She’s not too mad at you. Otherwise it would’ve been a lot worse.” Nadya said to her. I just scoffed and shook my head. “Both of you need stitches though. Let’s get you to the clinic.” 

Everyone was quiet all the way back to the Lodge. Toby and Skye peeled off to gather some drinks for everyone in the Den as a way to break the tension. I didn’t really have any interest in that currently, I was trying to get over the mild betrayal I felt. Maybe they did make some points, but I didn’t see how being extra cautious was such a bad thing when it helped to keep everyone safe. All I wanted was for people to be safe and that meant taking no chances. If that made me the bad guy, then so be it. I just wish that it didn’t sting like it did. 

The awkward silence lingered further once the three of us were in the clinic. Nadya patched Elaine up first, since her injuries were easier and quicker to dress. I didn’t like how close Nadya was to her, but I was encouraged by the sense of calm I felt from the other wolf. Despite the fact that my emotions still rose and fell, hers had gone on a steady decline since we left the clearing. I might not trust Elaine, but I was confident she had regained control of herself for now.

“Thank you.” Elaine said to Nadya. 

“You’re welcome. I hope I won’t have to patch you up again.” She replied. 

“I hope so to.” Elaine stepped away and moved towards the exit. She didn’t bother giving me any acknowledgement. I didn’t mind.  

Nadya became extra quiet as soon as Elaine left, but I knew she was preparing for some sort of scolding.

“Go on,” I told her while she worked on cleaning the bite on my shoulder, “Say it.”

“Say what?” 

“You think I was overreacting.” 

Nadya pursed her lips, trying to think of the right words. “I know you were just trying to keep me safe. I’m not mad about that, but you don’t have to be so hard on her.”

“Yes, actually, I do.” I snapped.

Had I known that Elaine didn’t have as much control over herself in her wolf form as she said, I never would have let Nadya anywhere near that clearing. Of course, that’s what I get for trusting a stranger’s word. Endangering my human mate and a bloody bite on my shoulder. If the situation had slipped away from me… well, maybe I would be the one treating a bite wound on Nadya. The thought made me shudder.  

She let out a sigh while she got the stitches ready, “I’m sorry if it felt like we turned our backs on you or something. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel singled out.” 

“Just tell me what it is, then.” I urged impatiently. 

Nadya paused to look me in the eyes before she started stitching. “The problem is you think that anyone who isn’t pack is an enemy. It won’t kill you to have a little more faith in people.”

“And what if it kills you?” 

“That’s the thing, Jay.” She said, reflecting some of my impatience, “Not everything is out to get us. If you open yourself up a little more, you might find that you have more friends than enemies.” 

I sometimes envied her for her optimism. For how much she believed in people. A part of me wanted to have the same outlook that she had. But that just wasn’t how things were. “I wish the world was how you see it.” 

Nadya softened and smiled sadly at me. “You let me in. That didn’t end so badly, did it?” 

“I didn’t let you in.” I corrected with a sly grin. “You broke through the walls I spent years building up like they were made of paper.” 

She focused on stitching me up for a few quiet moments, that knowing smile across her lips. “I trust her, you know. She’s my friend.” 

“You’ve only really hung out with her once.” I pointed out. 

Nadya shrugged, “I only knew you for, like, a half hour before I took you home like a lost puppy on the side of the road. I think I have good intuition about these sorts of things.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Touché.” Then we fell into another silence, though this one felt slightly more comfortable than the last. “I’m sorry too, you know. For being an overprotective freak again.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I wanna be, okay? Just pretend that I am.” 

Her brown eyes flashed playfully, “I wish the world was how you see it.” 

“Alright, I get it.” I told her with a chuckle. 

“You think you could give people a chance?” She tilted her head and asked with a special look in her eyes and a gentle, urging smile. 

I honestly didn’t know. Didn’t know if I even had it in me. It seemed like that part of me was ripped out and burned in front of my eyes years ago. But Nadya was the one asking, and she had a knack for finding things that I thought were long dead. “I’ll try.” 

That answer seemed good enough for her. After Nadya carefully placed a bandage on my shoulder, she cupped my face and leaned in. Her gentle kiss told me that she was proud just because I was willing to try. The soft way our lips moved against each other mended any hurt feelings between us, reminding ourselves of the love and trust we shared. Nadya’s thumbs brushed against my cheeks in a soothing caress and I felt the last bit of stress from the day melt away with her touch. 

My forehead rested against hers when we pulled away and I enjoyed the last bit of comforting silence. Then a crooked smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, “So, you wanna tell me about those dangerous werewolves you’ve treated?”

Nadya scoffed, leaning back to look at me in lighthearted exasperation, “Being in pain can make anyone a little crazy sometimes. Nothing too bad or you would’ve heard about it, trust me.” 

My eyes narrowed, but Nadya wouldn’t lie about her safety. Not like I would. “Okay.” I said, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “Guess, I just have to stand guard here more often.”

“Come on, Jay.” Nadya laughed, pulling me with her out of the clinic. “Try not to forget what I told you immediately after I’ve said it.” 

Nadya was right. I couldn’t hover over her forever. Despite all of the fears I had about her safety every single day, I still trusted her enough to look after herself, and to come to me whenever she really needed my help. Just like she trusted me to come to her aid. I could keep her safe a lot easier when we were working together. 

“I won't, my love.” I told her, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

#ocs #original characters #original story #original writing #werewolves #My writing #my ocs #ok im not saying that jayde is that type of dog that barks and growls at the mailman even when her human tells her its okay #but jayde is the type of dog that barks and growls at the mailman even when her human tells her its okay #also Skye and Toby 100% took bets on the spar #Toby won 20 bucks #Jayde #Nadya #Skye #Toby #Elaine #Jayde pov

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and honestly because i fkn love doa: dead or alive (see my jaime and devon packs), would anyone like to see kane kosugi as ryu hayabusa?   i have such a deeeeeeep love for martial artistry.   you can see him (kinda) here in these ones which i have linked from my devon pack as princess kasumi:

#rph #skye talkin shit* #kane kosugi #ryu hayabusa

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sometimes life is a whole bitch but @slaterherms is always a ray of light in this dim lil tunnel for me and i love him for it 🫶🏾  having u there is a huge comfort even if i dont say it enough 

#skye talkin shit* #[ talkin some real shit 4 once ily hermie ur a bae ]

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i’m desperately trying to do gifs for my commissions but even at 9:30pm im sweating and pouring water on myself and my cpu will not have it.   every time i load up, the fans on my laptop starts screaming at me.        gdi australia

#skye talkin shit*

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nothing ruins a fc more than having met them and discovered they’re a huuuuuge snooty douchecanoe

#skye talkin shit* #[ reminiscing abt a high school event and my face already looks like a sucked a lemon ]

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jsyk ; if anyone wants to commission a fc from a show hosted on IQIYI ( — hosting “chinese dramas, korean dramas, thai dramas, pan-asian entertainment...”  ) —  i have access to it for the next month ; so now would be the best time if you wanna commission me <3

#skye talkin shit* #[ if anyone wants to reblog to boost signal i'd appreciate - i lost all my shifts at work this week 🥲 ]

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more irl stress rant under cut adgjhs fmllll

i just realised that, after like THREE YEARS of trying to get structured therapy - i’m 2 sessions in to emdr - come next year, bc my boss has to sell her business, i will no longer b employed and thus no longer b able to afford therapy 💀 😵‍💫😵‍💫

god im goin to bed, i have work tomorrow anyway and its gonna be somBER

#therapy tw #unemployment tw #skye talkin shit*

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p sure at this point im the only bitch out here not using spotify dang.

#skye talkin shit*

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terms i use for and w @slaterherms, my beloved intercontinental homie

forgetfish

younger dad

eternal big bro

fellow messy morgan™

my liege

bby

actual same person

*screams in telepathic ideas*

#the messy morgans* #[ yah thats our tag now ] #skye talkin shit*