#And it's makin me go ballistic

[duncanor]

Those tags are really funny don't get me wrong but this isnt what I meant ^^ and I think that people putting all the blame on Jayce are really missing the point actually!

What makes theirs narratives so heartbreaking to me is that it wasn't 'fumbling', it was no incident. No matter what they could have done, they were doomed. Since Jayce was saved by that mage, since Viktor was born in Zaun.

What if they'd given up on Hextech? What would've become of them? Well, for Jayce, he would've jumped. And for Viktor..pilltover disdain for Zaunites would've claimed another victim sooner than later.

So yeah, this dream of theirs saved their lives. But as Heimerdinger said, magic tend to turn dreams into nightmares. And it did turn into just that. And there's nothing that they could've done to stop it without sacrificing themselves...but in doing so.. They also sacrificed everyone else.

That's what I meant by 'the real tragedy was that nothing worked'. Because it couldn't have. They were never going to be saved.

It was fate but they couldn't accept it because they loved their dream, they loved the people and they loved each others. And yet, this is what their blind, dream-like, love brought. Death, destruction, hatred and

...betrayal.

I know people are focused on Jayce right now but I do believe Viktor own quote about love making us do the most evil things also applies to himself (even if he didn't get it at the time).

His miracles had a price and not just 'his' magic. Jayce seeing them as arcane husks, Viktor being able to see/speak through them, their lives bein' so intertwined that if Viktor dies they all do, like puppet whose strings were cut...

The real tragedy of Jayce killing Viktor is that Viktor genuinely thought he was realizing their dream, that he was finally helping his people but then he got betrayed by the one who made that dream possible in the first place. And Jayce.. He tried to stop this nightmare from developing further, corrupting whatever was left of his partner.

The real tragedy is that nothing worked.

[nightingaelic]

Do that last one about Drunk weddings for the Sole Survivor, too. I may have my biases, but Fallout 4 can have a little love, as a treat.

Cait: "Don't be makin' so much noise in the back if you aren't going to share, you hear?"

Prior to her journey into Vault 95, Cait is just as stumbling drunk as the sole survivor, giggling with reckless abandon and daring guests to go a round with her outside the venue. She enlists the sole survivor to help her change out of her dress to make good on these bare-knuckle boxing promises, but the two of them wind up forgetting about the whole thing and singing loudly over the music on the dance floor. Post-sobriety, Cait heckles the sole survivor after they pass the point of no return, but she abstains in favor of demolishing Piper's gifted stash of Nuka-Cola.

Curie: "Do not indulge too much, mon glaçon. Excess of drink is the cause of many health problems."

Curie, ever the picture of innocent poise, laughs politely when the sole survivor starts making outbursts at the party, then corners them in the bathroom when she's free and insists they drink several glasses of water and eat some mirelurk cake hors d'oeuvres in front of her. She enlists Danse to help her carry the sole survivor to bed when they finally wear themselves out, and she does it all without staining or ripping her dress.

Danse: [speechless, awkward blushing]

Paladin Danse turns beet red when the sole survivor climbs onto a chair to get the party's attention for a toast, and dashes to their side when they start to wobble. To him, a wedding is no reason to let down his guard and drink, but the rest of his Brotherhood brethren don't share that viewpoint: Particularly Proctor Teagan, who is just as far in as the sole survivor. Once embarrassed, Danse tries to stay on the opposite end of the room, and steers his new spouse clear as well. He will give up his avoidance tactics if asked to dance, though.

Deacon: "Everyone drink up, we're trying to erase any memory of this get-together in case the Institute captures us and demands to know what menu and color scheme we picked."

Given his career and his own personal history, Deacon insists on having a small affair with close friends over a large shindig. He's mostly joking about forgetting the party- or is he?- but either way, he's handing out bottles of Bobrov's Best like it's going out of business. Valentine keeps side-eyeing him and calling him an "enabler," but Deacon couldn't care less.

Hancock: "Cheers to you, cheers to me, cheers to us and the whole fucking Commonwealth!"

The sole survivor's drunk? Good, so is Hancock. Like Deacon, the mayor of Goodneighbor is handing out bottles of booze left and right, along with palming chems to anyone in the Third Rail who looks too mellow. Whitechapel Charlie complains loudly when the groom and the sole survivor start dancing on the bar, but Hancock does not care one whit about property damage on his special day. That is, unless someone starts getting fresh with Magnolia.

MacCready: "So when I said partnering up with you beat drinking myself blind in Goodneighbor, that wasn't me saying we should switch spots, boss."

MacCready is too overwhelmed with disbelieving happiness on his big day to care if the sole survivor is wrecking shop. He's too busy staring at his new spouse holding Duncan and laughing with joy to notice the sole survivor spilling drinks on other guests, but he will perk up if they manage to hijack the jukebox. He'll roll his eyes, switch the song back to something more to his taste, and then drag the sole survivor onto the dance floor to work off some of their excess energy.

Valentine: "Gonna water that battery acid down with anything, or do I need to tell Vadim to cut you off?"

The synth detective takes in the sole survivor's antics with a wry smile before pulling them aside to make sure they're going to behave for the rest of the night. Any further shenanigans will earn them a withering frown from across the party. Rather than leave his new partner's side, he enlists Ellie and Piper's help in strong-arming them away from the moonshine supply and out into the fresh air for a bit.

Piper: "Really, Blue, on my wedding day? I don't do many editorial cartoons, but I think this might warrant one."

Piper has roses blooming in her own cheeks from drinking, but she'll insist the sole survivor switch to Nuka-Cola, park them in a chair next to her and toss tongue twisters at them until they can recite them back to her straight. Like MacCready and Danse, she will also accept some impressive dance moves as penance for their crime of disrupting the celebration, but if she starts dancing too, she'll slip quickly into the same territory of overdoing it.

Preston: "No thanks, but you keep going. We'll see whose head feels better come sunrise."

On the opposite end of the scale from Deacon, Preston doesn't want to forget a second of this day and is therefore abstaining. His Minutemen compatriots aren't though, so the sole survivor fits right in with the crowd. Ever the model of manners, Preston will join in on their drunken rendition of Dion's "The Wanderer," but he'll just as quickly bow out to go grab his new spouse a drink, chair, snack or anything else they might need.

X6-88: "Strange. The sensation leaves me unbalanced, but... warm. Perhaps the SRB was right to restrict substances such as this."

The Courser is puzzled the first time the sole survivor hands him a drink, but he accepts it and downs the lot admirably, shaking his head at the taste. He likes the way it makes him feel for a little bit, but learns quickly that if he keeps going, he'll wind up draped over the nearest furniture like the former vault dweller. Once the sole survivor is hiccupping and incoherent, he easily hoists them over his shoulder and deposits them as far away from the liquor supply as he can, ignoring the impressed cheers of Deacon and MacCready.

BONUS!

Gage: "No, I don't care if it was brewed in a settlement, that stuff'll knock you on your ass just as well as the beer that's been sitting still for 200 years."

Porter Gage has been dry for decades, and his own wedding isn't going to be enough to ruin that streak. Seeing as he's pals with a whole bunch of raiders, he can't well keep the rest of them from indulging, but he can sure as hell protest if the sole survivor tries to push a bottle on him. Repeated inquiries will earn them a black eye, but he'll let them steal his eyepatch for the rest of the night as condolence.

Longfellow: "Here's to full glasses an' fulsome lasses, ain't that right, honey? Bottoms up!"

There's not much to do on the island when you live alone, other than get really good at your hobbies and drink. Old Longfellow lives accordingly, and he can out-swig anyone attending his little party, including the sole survivor. By the end of the night, those who dared to pick up a glass around the man are under the table, while Longfellow is still singing sweet, fully-coherent lullabies to his new gal beneath the glow of the bottle lanterns. Knowing him, she's probably just as seasoned at drinking as he is.

Maxson: "Dull senses make for poor soldiers, but I suppose we can set our weapons aside for one evening."

Any Brotherhood of Steel Elder's marriage is a huge deal, and subsequently warrants a huge celebration. Alcohol flows freely at such parties, and any drunken behavior on the sole survivor's behalf is probably drowned out by hundreds of other Knights, Scribes and Lancers acting foolish too. Like Longfellow, Maxson holds his own in contest with everyone else, but doesn't push those around him to keep up. Anyone counting his drinks can't help but wonder where he's putting it. If the sole survivor's not too far gone, they can spot him dumping his glasses after a sip or two to keep up the mythic image, but he'll swear them to secrecy.

Desdemona: "Being able to take a moment to breathe can be just as vitally important for an organization as resupply missions or exterminations. Stop touching my hair."

The Railroad leader appreciates being able to cut loose, but she's still too paranoid to trust any glass handed to her and favors the flask inside her ballistic weave-armored dress that she fills herself. Once relaxed, this is the only time she'll allow the sole survivor and friends to get rowdy and fawn over her in the least. Liquored-up compliments on her outfit, her leadership abilities and her organization are fair game, but any probing into her personal background will result in her simply standing up and walking away.

[terrablaze514]

Social Media Woes *Erik x Reader* (1)

Idea from @supersizemeplz : Would I be pushing it if I wanted someone to make this a fic with Erik? ((Quit liking my posts on social media or we gone end up like this.))

Rated M (no minors allowed)

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @lifelover4u @shegoego @brittyevans @iamrheaspeaks @imasmille @blowmymbackout @the-lululemon @destinio1 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade // @that-chick-103 @cassidylikeszayn @ashleychristina73 @laxativerat @jasmine-j @kaykay0829 @chellllz @sistaskeeper @asweet-serendipity @abeautifulmindexposed @fictionalfantasies @gold3nmind @brooklyn-knights1 @imdiirtydan @quinnbethany @purple-kelpie-child @emoniclark22 @cosmicmelaninflower @mood-alwayssad @badgalteezy @maxyya @gameoverr1​ @wakandaforeverwrites​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @amethyst1993​ @muse-of-mbaku​ @princessstevens​ @supersizemeplz​ @bribrisback​ @killmongersgurl​ @hoopshoney​ @wakanda-inspired​ @daytimeheroicsonly @killmongurl​ @wakanda-4evr​ @thiccdaddy-mbaku​ @maddiestundentwritergaines @bartierbakarimobisson @oceanscorazon @youreadthatright @vikkidc

Disclaimer: Black Panther belongs to Marvel. Just borrowing the characters.

Erik Stevens ^

T'Challa Udaku as Troy:

*******

Your profile picture displayed under one photo.

Two photos.

Four. Eight. Sixteen posts.

Multiply that by thirty.

The young man fumed even more by your serial likes on his Facebook posts. Matters had gotten worse on Instagram.

“She’s a trip, and a trick,” he muttered. “How dare she interfere?”

Without warning, he’d flipped his desk over. His eyes now burned with fire.

“Time to teach her some manners.”

~•~•~

“Oooh, but that's my favourite colour! I wanna see more!”

Your fantasy took a dive as you saved the picture you wanted. A known photographer on campus had captured one of the most beautiful backshots you've ever seen. Without a second thought, the photo was sent to Erik Stevens on Facebook. It's no surprise you've liked all his posts, but who could possibly resist?

His cousin Troy had warned you about serial liking his stuff after class yesterday, but you couldn't care less. Erik was sexy and that's all that mattered.

So the time came for Reading Week, and you haven't seen Erik nor Troy on school grounds.

That's strange.

His Facebook page was deactivated. No sweat - he had other social media you could look at. Only downside…

Your IP address was blocked.

Damn it!

Trish and Shania knocked on your door when you've let them in. “What's up?”

Your voice was void of its usual upbeat vibe. You’ve missed the high and fulfillment of undressing him with your eyes. The sultry sound of his voice. The swag accentuated in his walk.

It didn't help that your brain refused to play nighttime movies with him in them.

“What's wrong?” Shania asked as she entered your room.

“I need to get some Chardonnay Pinot Grigio, so I can calm myself down.”

Shania and Trish exchanged knowing looks. All three of you were halfway through sophomore year, and this high-time drinking wasn't cutting it anymore. Not since Coretta's horrific accident under the influence. It's left a damper on the school community since she was at the top of her class. You've all vowed to keep away from alcoholic beverages until graduation.

Trish approached your closet while Shania took your laptop and unplugged it.

“No more Erik, Y/N,” she said. “I understand where you're coming from, but I'm afraid your obsession with him will do more harm than good.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. “But he’s got the look. He's the real deal.”

“Damn right he ain't the real deal,” Trish said, selecting your ensemble. “We're going to take our minds off of the stress that school brings, without getting drunk.”

A pout screwed your features as you crossed your arms. “Y'all are so wrong for this. All kinds of wrong! He's the only one that matters to me, and now he hardly exists.”

Trish sighed, while Shania chuckled softly.

“Give him a break. We're going to unwind tonight, and this is also a great opportunity to revisit the early 2000s Era.”

“To the club?” You asked.

“Yes, and it will be lit!” Shania exclaimed, lighting up the mood.

~•~•~

Erik and Troy hung out at Aaron's crib. The older man gave them permission to stick around in this space while Study (Reading) Week was in session at school. No classes, but everyone was encouraged to keep their memories fresh and take care of themselves.

Both cousins, two years apart in age, from an invisible African country, had hidden their true identities from others.

Erik Stevens.

Troy Clue.

When the man of the house disappeared, presumably on his way to work, N'Jadaka and T'Challa reverted back to speaking Xhosa, opened communication with their relatives in Wakanda, and monitored your IP address.

~•~•~

Omarion's “Drop That Heater” blared throughout the hall. The intensity of the music's bass overpowered your body, your heart had an intrinsic connection with it.

It's been four hours now, and the ladies you've kicked it with had decided to call it a night.

Not you, though.

“C'mon Y/N, we've got homework to focus on,” said Shania, who grabbed your arm.

“I agree,” Trish chimed in. “Besides, do we still have Erik and Troy to deal with?”

You shook your head. As the music died down, the DJ played “Do That Thing” by B2K and Lil’ Kim. The crowd went ballistic - no surprise, since the two-time platinum music group was on tour and y'all had little to no chances to attend their live shows. School work had top priority. At least this club was kind enough to celebrate the comeback of millennium artists. Chingy, Pretty Ricky, Lloyd and Ying Yang Twins had also been the jam of tonight.

Without further ado, your small group pulled you out of the club. You didn't drink - y'all had agreed to have genuine fun without getting drunk or high, in the slightest. Huge difference compared to your younger days, and you had every reason to celebrate.

*****

To be continued... Sorry y’all, the next short-short part will come when it chooses to. I have some baby-makin’ to do.

[hexwritesfanfics]

[to be human]

A/N: To be completely honest, a lot of my Tokyo Ghoul-related fics are on Wattpad, but since I’m not on the site much anymore and constantly posting on here more actively, now you get to see my trash. My long-running Tokyo Ghoul fic is also on Wattpad because I can’t post nineteen chapters in one go.

Fandom: Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing: Kaneki x OC

Warning: slight angst

“I still remember. Do you?”

    Kaneki received no response; really, he didn’t need one. He knew she remembered. She never truly forgot anything, not even the barest of details about him. He sighed, brushing his fingers against the soft pale skin of Hanami’s cheek, the warmth so familiar after basking within it for so long. He had tried to taint her, to make her like him, but in the end, she had freed him of the darkness inside.

    She loved every fractured piece of him and he loved every shattered piece of her.

    “I still remember when you tried to visit me in the hospital after the accident,” Kaneki murmured, his tone taking on a tint of regret. “You and Hide, you both tried and I turned you both away. I wish I had let the two of you visit if I could turn back time.”

    He paused for a moment.

    “If I could turn back time,” he continued, “I would have recognized how you felt about me sooner.”

    Hanami still hadn’t responded, but honestly what could Kaneki have expected? Ever since that battle against the CCG, her ghoul gene was forcibly triggered when the Doves were cutting into her body before his eyes. When Kaneki received a grievous blow, Hanami had gone ballistic and attacked every Dove within their vicinity. She had received a blow in turn, but there was something odd by how she shielded her body. Kaneki found out why much later.

    Makine Hanami, the only trace left of his human past, was the girl who loved him when he was human and loved him as he was now. She was the girl he had taken, the girl who tried to appeal to his humanity by releasing her. But Kaneki couldn’t let her go; not when she carried memories of a time when his fate wasn’t cruel. She was his, a beautiful flower much like her name that he held in his bloodied hands.

    Kaneki’s hand drifted from its place against Hanami’s cheek down to her hand, twining his fingers with hers. It had been two long years since Hanami’s eyes closed on that battle field, but she wasn’t dead. After the recessive ghoul gene inside of her body was triggered, Hanami was in bed in a new hideout, healing. Kaneki wasn’t sure how long her coma would last.

    I’m just like you now, she had said to him on the battlefield, with tears streaming from her eyes—the rubies he was so familiar with now fully formed kakugan. She was smiling though, not because of that; she understood him better now that she was somewhat the same. Hanami was a half-breed whose humanity was the most dominant of her. No matter how her DNA was constructed in her mother’s womb, Hanami was more human than he ever could be again.

    “She still hasn’t woken up?”

    Kaneki was pulled from his reverie by Touka’s voice and he turned his gaze to the dark-haired female. While Kaneki knew of Touka’s feelings toward him, he was grateful for her presence. She had pulled him from the brink when he thought he had lost Hanami forever. She still kept him in check while he sat at Hanami’s bedside.

    “Not yet,” he replied softly, lifting Hanami’s hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her fingers. “I would have think she’d open her eyes by now.”

    “You two went through the wringer, Kaneki.” Touka’s voice was soft. “And Hanami…her body couldn’t handle the strain of her genes taking over on top of being…”

    Tortured. The one word Touka or Kaneki could never say. The CCG had taken Hanami from him after finding out that her father was a ghoul under the alias of “Red Eyes”. From what Kaneki was told, Hanami’s father was a ferocious ghoul that had gone under the grid after he had taken a human woman as a mate—and no one had realized from that union came a half-breed unlike the usual. Hanami was born an anomaly, a half-breed that should have been impossible to give birth to. Her mother’s pregnancy was as normal as a human’s—the only difference was that the daughter was born with unformed kakugan, no kagune, and her mother had repeatedly tried to kill her.

    Hanami understood faster than Kaneki could that her mother didn’t realize she had conceived a child with a ghoul. “Red Eyes” had disappeared before Hanami’s birth and Hanami had met her father on the battlefield—as a quinque. Even now, Kaneki felt anger toward the CCG. While Amon Kotaro was a Dove Kaneki respected, the other Doves were quick to put a scared girl on a slab and carve her open because she was the daughter of a ghoul.

    Touka sighed softly. She knew how difficult this was for Kaneki, to watch as his mate was comatose. She had met Hanami only a handful of times and could see that the brunette was pure. All she wanted was to do was see Kaneki again. Glancing back, Touka smiled softly. “She wants to see you,” she told Kaneki, returning her gaze to him. “She wants you to tell the story of how you and Hanami met.”

    A smile curved Kaneki’s lips faintly. “If she insists.”

    Touka exited the room and, not a few minutes later, a little girl no older than two toddled in, walking toward Kaneki. Her curling, black hair was held slightly at bay with hairclips shaped like roses, her cheeks a rosy pink as she held out her hands. Kaneki reached for the child, hoisting her into his arms. “Have you been giving Touka-chan a hard time, Sayuri?” he asked.

    Sayuri pouted and Kaneki couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him before she lay her head on his shoulder. The child definitely took after her mother when making that face. “I want to see mama,” she chirped. “Papa keeps mama all to himself.”

    “I do, don’t I?” Kaneki smoothed a hand against Sayuri’s cheek, getting to his feet to pace near Hanami’s bed. “That isn’t fair of me, is it?”    

    “No, no, no, papa, not fair,” cooed Sayuri, her small arms banding around Kaneki’s neck. She lifted her head to peer at him with large, ruby eyes. That was one of the things Sayuri had inherited from her mother.

    “Touka-chan told me you want papa to tell you a story.”

    Sayuri nodded before laying her head against his shoulder. “About papa and mama.”

    “Where to begin,” laughed Kaneki as he looked at Hanami.

    “Papa say mama was like a princess.”

    “That’s right. Mama was like a princess, with pretty eyes like yours.”

    “Is mama a ghoul too?”

    Kaneki looked toward Hanami before returning his gaze to Sayuri, bouncing the toddler gently in his arms to get her to sleep. “Mama is the most human person papa has ever met, Sayuri. Do you know why?”

    “Why?”

    “Because mama’s heart is full of love. Love for you, love for me, and love for all of our friends here.”

    Sayuri rubbed her eyes. “Papa?”

    “Yes?”

    “Will mama ever wake up?”

    Kaneki sighed heavily, resting his head gently against Sayuri’s. “She will. Mama is just resting for a while so she can play with you for as long as you want,” he assured. It was a question Sayuri often posed every night after she’d “fight” with Touka on seeing him to hear stories about Hanami.

    As much as Kaneki wished Hanami would open her eyes day after day these past two years, she had given him the most precious treasure Kaneki would ever hope to have in his life. He only hoped she would wake up soon to experience the joy of caring for that treasure. Sayuri was a part of Kaneki and a part of Hanami, their treasured daughter, beloved by everyone in their current hideout. Until Hanami awakened, Kaneki would have to protect both her and Sayuri. They were the reason he could feel human again, the reason why his heart was so full.  

    “Papa?” Sayuri mumbled sleepily and Kaneki rubbed the child’s back soothingly with a soft hum. “Can I stay here with you and mama?”

    Kaneki smiled softly. “How about I lay you down next to mama?”

    “Please?”

    Kaneki moved toward Hanami’s bedside, gently easing his daughter onto the bed beside her mother after gently shifting Hanami’s arm. Sayuri curled against Hanami, resting her head against the space on Hanami’s shoulder and closing her eyes, falling asleep surrounding by her mother’s warmth. Kaneki threaded his fingers through Sayuri’s raven curls gently, his eyes soft. “Good night, my precious flowers” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss against Sayuri’s head and one against Hanami’s lips.

[rfsak2]

Cactus, Part XV

This one was loads of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Cactus, Part XV Summary: Family matters. The Styles Warnings: Media tomfoolery but nothing too bad I hope.

They should’ve known that this wouldn’t be easy. They should’ve known that they weren’t going to get away with it.

They had a solid six months before the paps caught on that they were dating and just shy of that before they realized they had gotten married.

And she still really didn’t know how they managed to pull that off honestly.

They had only put in the bare effort into hiding early on. She would book the table because no one knew her name, they only frequented places where he was less likely to be known or places owned by friends they could trust, they never went to parties together, showing up with ‘separate’ groups of friends and leaving in different cars even if they were going to be spending the night together.

Honestly, she just didn’t think people had been expecting him to be with someone like her. She was too short, too plebeian, too curvy, too appallingly normal. It just never entered anyone’s mind that the Harry fuckin’ Styles would be into normal, everyday Jamie Schwartz.

Look who’s fuckin’ laughin’ now, bitch?

The media.

The correct answer was the media was still fuckin’ laughing.

Jamie sighed and rubbed at her face with her free hand.

They had waited a whole week before going to an OB GYN to have the pregnancy officially confirmed, waiting out the off-chance that some pap had gotten a picture of Lou buying a pregnancy test, had made a logical leap and landed on the truth.

But nothing…

No photos. No twitter or tumblr posts by fans who didn’t #RespectHarry. Nothing. Radio Silence.

So it all seemed rather wasted, this absolutely hellish week spent guarding themselves against working themselves into a frenzy just in case they were destined to be let down by notoriously inaccurate technology.

Really though, you could do a drug test at home now. Should be able to get a pretty bloody accurate pregnancy test… if you asked her.

Jamie chewed on her thumbnail, other hand hooked in Harry’s elbow.

He was seconds from going absolutely ballistic and every flash that he saw despite their position carefully hidden away from prying eyes was only ratcheting it up further.

This was the angriest she’d ever seen him.

This is worse than the time he had lifted his arms (to get yet another candle that he didn’t need, not that she mentioned it) only to reveal a very dark, suggestively low hickey only partially hidden by the low rise of his jeans. A hickey that the media blew (ha! she could make puns too) way out of proportion and still occasionally hounded on.

It was worse than the time he had gotten caught (and recorded) engaging in a particularly raunchy round of phone sex with her. It was worse than when he found out that that recording was still floating around the internet despite #RespectHarry.

This was worse than the time, he found (read: was sent) a crude cartoon of her sucking his dick made by some coward who’d spent entirely too much time perfecting her tattoos and not near as much time learning how to respect people’s privacy.

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder but he was so tense, his jaw so tight she doubted it mattered.

Surveying the doctor’s office with a mixture of disgust and sheer rage, he all but growled down at her. “Are yeh okay, Jamie?”

She kissed his chin. “Course. Are you?”

He turned and laid his forehead against hers. “I should be bloody over-the-moon. I should be fuckin’ floatin’ but these… these fuckin’ cunts are ruinin’ it..”

Hooking a hand around the back of his neck and tangling her fingers in the curls that were forming there, she shushed him, finger pressed to his lips. “I’m over-the-moon. You wanna know why?”

He tried to smile for her. “Why, love?”

She smiled. “I fuckin’ estactic, Harry, because I’m having your baby and I’m healthy and I’ve been cleared to keep touring. Those assholes aren’t going to change that. They can’t ruin that for us, baby. The person who leaked this can’t ruin this for us. I’m having your child. Who gives a fuck what they or anyone else has to say about that?” She flattened his massive hand against her stomach and accepted the kiss he pressed to her mouth.

Looking just shy of nirvanic, blissed out smile on his recently relaxed face, he rubbed his thumb over her still flat tummy, whispering, “You’re having my baby.”

She nodded and kissed him again. “I’m having your baby.”

“Mr. Styles?”

Suddenly all business again, Harry straightened and she slipped her hand from his hair, his hand still laid protectively over her.

“The car is here, sir. And Brandon sent more guys. They’re going to clear a path and then we’re gonna walk out.”

Harry nodded. Swinging an arm around her shoulders, he tucked her into his side and kissed her forehead. He grinned. “Let’s do this shit.”

**

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “No, Harry.”

“Love-”

“No. I don’t need a stool. I am perfectly capable of standing.”

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Jamie, it’s for just in case. In case yeh get tired, love.”

She set her hands on his shoulders and leaned as close in as she could with an acoustic guitar hanging in front of her. “Listen to me. I am barely a month along, baby. I am perfectly healthy and you were there when the doctor said, aside from the obvious, that I didn’t need to make any signific-”

“I’m not askin’-”

“-significant changes to my lifestyle.” She smiled at him as he pouted.

His smile was a bit tight but she chose not to mention it. “I’m not askin’ yeh to change yer (our) lifestyle, monster. I simply want yeh to acknowledge that yer pregnant and that you need to be careful.” He shrugged. “Also I don’t know why we haven’t told at least the guys and Jeff.”

She shook her head and steadied her guitar as she stooped to get her bottle of water. “I’m fine with tellin’ Jeff and maybe the guys, however… however.” She grabbed his hand. “Baby, if we’re gonna miscarriage… it’s going to be in the next couple of months most likely. I don’t… it will break both of us to have to… to have to explain that.” She kissed his hand. “It’s best to keep it to ourselves for now, just you, me and Lou and Jeff if you want. And our parents, of course.”

He leaned in for a kiss and nodded. “Okay. That’s reasonable.”

She smiled. “I knew you were going to do this.”

He winced. “Do want, love?”

Sipping her water, her eyebrow arched and she smirked. “Be a hoverer…There are still six months left in the tour. You’re gonna give yourself a coronary.”

“I’m just trying to take care of you… you two.” He knocked foreheads with her. “Is there anything you need that I can provide you?”

She smiled. “Can we finish rehearsal so I can take a nap?”

Grinning, he started backing up towards his mic. “I thought you weren’t tired, Dolores Styles.”

She did not look amused. “I thought you were a smart man, Harry Styles.”

He held his hands up. “Fine, fine… I love yeh.”

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” She blew him a kiss. “I love you too.”

**

“Do you want tea, Jamie-love?”

She jumped, still staring at the tea trolley.

It had been set up pretty much exclusively for Louis and Jamie to partake in their respective tea obsessions. Her cactus mug and Louis’ favorite mug sat in the places of honor next to the kettle and mocked her.

“No, that’s okay…”

Louis chuckled. “You sure? You never turn down tea.”

She smiled tightly and tore her eyes away from caffeinated heaven only to see her decidedly not pregnant husband with his morning coffee.

Backing away from the trolley, she shook her head. “Nah.. I probably shouldn’t.”

“You sick, love?”

She shook her head and glared pointedly at Harry. “No, it’s just been makin’ my heart race, recently. Fuckin’ with my sleep schedule… probably should cut back.”

Louis nodded vaguely. “If yer sure…”

“I’m sure.” She didn’t look sure.

Trying to be as casual as possible, she made her way to the breakfast table. She leaned over Harry’s shoulder and sucked the lobe of his ear into her mouth. Voice low so the conspicuously un-nosy men at the table couldn’t hear, she purred. “I’m angry that you can drink caffeine-“

“Sorry, love.” He sounded entirely too smug to be truly sorry. “Don’t make the rules.”

“I’m angry and I want to fuck your brains out.” She nipped at his ear. “You comin’ hubby?”

He threw back the rest of his coffee and stood, the chair loudly scraping behind him. “Be back later.”

“Yeah ok, mate.” Liam rolled his eyes.

The door hadn’t even properly closed behind her by the time she’d swept her Eagles shirt over her head and started shimmying her jeans down her legs. Grunting in frustration, she paused the descent of her jeans to toe off her chucks.

She eyed him, standing by the door, one hand absently palming himself through his jeans. She licked her lips, noticing how his eyes followed the motion and he squeezed himself hard.

She loved the crazy suits and the pussy-bows, crooning behind a guitar like the lovechild of Mick Jagger and Elvis. She really did, but there was just something about Harry in tight jeans and a sheer shirt unbuttoned to his bloody navel.

His chest and thighs… Hell, if they didn’t just inform her every daydream.

“You gonna do something, pretty boy?”

**

Lou ran a comb through Jamie’s hair and shook her head, fighting a losing battle against post-nap tangles. “Your child is going to have the most unruly hair imaginable. It’s literally going to be the stuff my nightmares are made of.”

Jamie yawned. “Harry’s hair isn’t that bad.”

Snorting, Lou set the comb down with an audible snap. “He has more bloody hair than anyone I’ve ever met and now it’s getting long again, for which I have you to thank, I’m sure.”

Jamie shrugged. “I like it. Looks good on him.”

Lou smiled at her in the mirror. “It does… just a pain in my arse, is all.”

“So sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” Jamie grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. Hissing, she pulled her arms away. “Fuck me.”

Chuckling, Lou reached for a bobby pin. “Tender, lovely?”

Jamie nodded. “All’a sudden too. They weren’t this bad this morning.” She adjusted her shirt so she was a bit more covered. “They’re getting bigger too. Jesus, I look like a tavern wench.”

“Hazza’s gotta like that…”

Snorting, Jamie did up one more button before deciding she didn’t like it. “Good maybe he can carry them around for awhile.” She sighed. “I either look like a barmaid or nun… I can’t win.”

“You need a new bra.” Lou eyed Jamie’s chest.

“Can’t buy online, I need to be measured. I hate bra shopping.” Jaime huffed. “My luck I’ve gone up a whole cup.”

“How big were you before?”

“Double-D.” She sighed. “I’m probably a fuckin’ E now or something. What even is after Double-D? I’ll have to get shit made. How many cup sizes did you gain with Lux?”

“Probably one maybe two.” Lou made a face and reached for the hairspray. “But I was never as buxom as you, lovely. Only two months in and you’ve already gained at least a cup. You’re gonna be porn star big by the time you give birth.”

“Fuck…”

Lou grinned at her in the mirror. “The girls with straight hair always want curly hair and the girls with curly hair always want it straight.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “You don’t want none of this, Lou-boo. They are gigantic pains. Literally and figuratively.”

“Got you one of the most eligible men in the world though.”

“I personally hope that it was my stellar personality and my mad guitar skills.” She stuck her tongue out. “But again, if he likes them so much, he’s welcome to have them.”

“Have what, monster?”

“My tits.” She looked up and smiled at Harry, noticing too late that the door was open and three uncomfortable men were lingering outside of it. She shrugged, not in the mood to care. “You can have them. I don’t want ‘em anymore.”

Harry grinned. “I’d take ‘em, love, but they look much prettier on you than they will ever look on me.”

“Excuses, excuses.” She stood and Harry tried to draw her into a hug. She winced and put a hand out to stop him. “No hugs…” She motioned at her breasts and whispered, “They’re killin’ me, baby.”

He nodded and leaned over for a kiss instead. “By the way… I noticed this morning. Your tits are bigger.”

“No fuckin’ shit.”

**

“Yeh ready, love?”

She nodded and Harry stuck his head out of the little Camry they had rented to be incognito. Brandon strolled back around the corner and reached for the door. “Coast is clear, Mr. Styles.”

Harry stepped out of the car and held a hand for her. They strolled, as casually as possible into the OB GYN office.

Harry walked up to the front and smiled down at the gaping receptionist. “Hi, we’re the-”

“Styles.” The woman jumped up. “Of course, the doctor is waiting for you. Follow me.”

She led them into a prep room where she took Jamie’s height, weight and vitals and then led them to a back exam room where the doctor was waiting for them.

“Hello!” The doctor smiled kindly. “Go ahead and hop up on the exam bed, Mrs. Styles. Mr. Styles, you can take a seat in that chair by the bed, please.”

They did as they were bid, Harry reaching out for Jamie’s hand when she was situated.

“How have you been, ma’am?”

Jamie smiled. “I’ve been fine, yeah.”

“Good.” She flipped open Jamie’s file. “Any morning sickness?” Jamie shook her head. “Really? Lucky you! Fatigue, more so than what you’d expect on a tour?”

“Yeah, I’ve been taking naps on top of sleeping later than usual. I tend to sleep late but I rarely ever take naps.”

She made a note. “Any headaches?”

“Just from quitting caffeine.”

“That will do it. Moodiness?” Harry nodded for Jamie and she pinched his arm. Chuckling, the doctor made a note. “Breast tenderness?” A nod. “Any anxiety, more severe than you’d expect. Of course, some anxiety is very normal.”

“A little but, I’ve chalked it up to the general moodiness and fatigue. It hasn’t been debilitating or anything.”

“Good. Good.” She smiled. “Have you been eating normally?”

“Yes, she has.” Harry muffled a snort into his hand. “She’s been eating bloody everything. A bag of those baby carrots a day… if not two. Never seen anyone eat so many bloody carrots.”

“Hush you.” Jamie swatted at his arm and Harry leaned in for a kiss. She shook her head. “No one asked you.”

“It’s cute, love. I, for one, am glad yer not pullin’ a Kate Middleton and gettin’ stuck in hospital.”

The doctor chuckled. “Exactly. With the lack of morning sickness, that’s to be expected and it is a good thing considering you seem to be craving something healthy. Some women have problems keeping weight on while others gain too much during the first trimester. Are you experiencing any strange symptoms that you’re worried about?”

Jamie shook her head.

“Well your vitals are great and as long as you’re feeling well then let’s move on. Do you have any questions before we do what you really came here for?”

Harry squeezed her hand as Jamie shook her head.

The doctor smiled. “Well then, roll up that shirt, Mrs. Styles and lean back.” Turning back to Jamie with a gloved hand full of jelly, the doctor chuckled. “My! You’re covered in tattoos, aren’t you? Might be the most tattooed mama I’ve had.”

Jamie tensed as she spread the cool gel over her lower stomach. “Jeez… It’s cold.”

“Yes it is.” The doctor winked and lifted the wand. “Let’s go! Sit back and relax. Sometimes it can take a bit to find them this early.” She focused on the screen. “So do you plan on getting tattooed for this little one?”

Jamie shrugged, eyes also fixed on the whole lot of nothing on the screen. “Yeah, I’d think so… I haven’t really given it much thought honestly.”

“I am.”

Jamie turned to Harry and squeezed his hand. “Yeah? What are you gonna get, baby?”

He shrugged and lifted her hand to his mouth. Pressing his lips to her knuckle, he grinned. “Don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple ideas.”

She smiled. “I think I wan-”

“Here the little one is!”

They both turned to the screen, eyes wide as the doctor pointed to the screen. Jamie covered her mouth with her free hand. “Holy shit.”

The doctor pointed to a light spot in the sea of black. “There they are. This right here,” She enlarged the image and pointed to a tiny rhythmically quivering spot. “That is the baby’s heart. Can’t hear it on the machine so we’ll use a different piece of equipment. It’s good that we can see it. Everything looks normal.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jamie saw Harry wipe at his eyes. She cupped his jaw and pulled him to her. He grinned. “That’s our baby, love.”

She nodded and kissed him.

Jamie turned back to the doctor as she pressed another piece of equipment to her belly, setting aside the previous wand. She moved it around a bit and Jamie gasped as the sound of a very fast, very muffled heartbeat filled the room.

“That’s Baby Styles’ heartbeat and it sounds wonderful. Good and strong.”

**

She pulled her cord through her guitar strap and plugged in, eyeing Liam as he made his way toward her.

“Yeh like carrots, dontcha, Jamie-love?”

She grinned and squatted to talk to him from the band riser. “What?”

“Carrots?” He held up a bag full of baby carrots. “You’ve been eatin’ loads of carrots.”

“Yeah… I mean I like carrots.” He offered her the bag and she took it, wearing a confused frown. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

He shrugged, already turning to walk away. “Eat them? Pregnant ladies need to eat.”

She went pale. “What! How did you know?” She stood and motioned at Harry. “Harry Edward Styles!”

Liam chuckled and came back to the band riser. “He didn’t tell, Jamie.”

“Monster, sit on the edge of the platform. Don’t want yeh fallin’.” Harry loped over. “What is it?”

“Liam fuckin’ knows I’m pregnant!” She turned back to Liam. “How did you know?”

“What? Y’know?” Harry frowned at Liam, but turned back to her, patting the edge of the platform. “Sit.”

“You’re hoverin’ again, baby.” She sat, guitar sitting awkwardly in her lap. “Seriously, Liam, how did you know?”

Niall came up behind Liam and Harry, Louis right behind him. “Know what?”

Liam motioned vaguely at Jamie. “Y’know.”

“Oh, that.” Niall nodded. “Yeah, we all know.”

“What?” Harry frowned. “How?”

Niall chuckled into his fist. “Well, first, Harry is actin’ like he wants to wrap ye up in bubble-wrap.”

Louis laughed. “You two are not as sneaky as you’d like t’think. Jamie-love, you take a nap everyday at four and you’ve been turnin’ down tea, both of which you never did before.”

Niall nodded. “You’ve also been a wee bit irritable and aside from the morning, you’ve never been all that irritable befo’.”

“I am not irritable. You take that back!”

Laughing into his fist, Liam nodded. “You are irritable, Jamie-love. Sorry t’tell ya.”

“And who goes to a normal gyno appointment with their woman, Haz? No one does that!” Louis smiled. “I don’t even think the media believed that.”

“I like to be a supportive husband.”

“No one is that supportive and if you tell me that you’ve gone to any of her other appointments, I’ll call you a liar.”

“And last but not least,” Liam grinned. “You two have not been able to bloody keep your hands off each other. Seems like you’re bloody nippin’ off to have sex every five minutes.”

Jamie blushed, looking absolutely mortified. “Jesus.”

Harry rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

Liam shrugged. “It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of or anythin’, I just find it hilarious that you think you’re that sneaky.” He smiled. “How far along are you?”

“She’s ten w-”

“We’re on in two. Everybody get-”

Jamie turned towards the assistant and whisper-screamed. “You’ll have to give us a minute. We’re havin’ a bloody family meeting!”

The boys went silent, before Niall dissolved into giggles, doubling over, as the other guys joined him. “And yer not irritable, right, Jamie?”

She frowned and flicked Niall off, before turning back to the assistant. “I’m sorry about that. Give us a minute more please?”

Liam reached over to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. “So ten weeks? Pretty much out of the danger zone, yeah?”

“Danger zone?” Niall looked confused.

Liam nodded. “Most women miscarry in the first trimester. That’s why it’s kinda traditional to not say anything right away.”

She nodded. “Yeah, we uh.. We heard the heartbeat last week. Doctor said that chances are now low that I’ll miscarry… We were just tryin’ to figure out how to tell y’all.” She winced. “Hope you don’t feel like we were keepin’ secrets or anythin’.”

Louis squeezed her knee. “Nah, Jamie-love, sometimes you gotta keep things to yerself… keep it in the family and all that.”

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, but you are family, innit right? We’re family. We didn’t want t’haf te go back and break everyone’s heart if we lost.. lost the baby.”

“We’ve got ye, bruv. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Louis pulled him into a hug. “Now Niall jus’ needs to get his bird pregnant and everyone’s got a sprog.”

“Well, actually…”

Everyone turned to Niall who shook his head. “I’m just kiddin’...”

Liam reached over and popped him in the back of the head. “On a serious note, congratulations you two. You’re both going to be great parents.”

Jamie pulled her guitar over her head and set it on the floor. “Help me down. I want a hug.”

Harry helped her down and the boys all but enveloped her in a hug. Pulling away a couple minutes later, she wiped at her eyes. “Now get set before production hates me.”

Part XIV Up Next: Part XVI

[altrxisme]

;; larry

 Having yelled Break it up and gotten to the spot of the quarrel, Larry was already huffing in anger. Sure, it wasn’t the first nor the last fight they had had in the bar but no matter how many happened it didn’t make it any more pleasant. The first face he took in the long sweep at the offenders was Jackson, a surprise really since he didn’t think he had it in him. Now the word feisty came along the rest of the adjectives he had in his mind about him ( not in a bad sense really ). Then there was Jo, he’d witnessed her abilities before and had no doubt she would have knocked out the real troublemaker with one punch.      ❛ That’s one waste of a lyre ❜ he mumbled at the broken pieces of the floor before clear piercing gaze went back to Jackson, then to the other guy in question. ❛ First of all, no more fighting inside. If you two still have issues to handle, go outside and punch your way out of it. But Not. In. Here. Alright? We’re all having a good time. ❜ The redhead took a deep breath before pointing out at the guy, anger churning through every word.  ❛ And you, now if you can behave, in good Halloween spirit that is, stay. Otherwise, get the hell outta my bar now. ❜ Once the man wiped off his nose and took his belongings to leave in furious stomping, Larry got closer to Jackson holding him by the arm. ❛ Alright now, what the hell happened? ❜

  Bright blues glanced in worry towards his sister to see how she was faring. Obviously she was none too happy and wanted to beat the living daylights out of the guy that grabbed him, but a few soothing words from their mutual friend eventually cooled her off. He could see the rigidness of her shoulders ease down slowly as she gave him a look that told him to look for her after he spoke with Larry. 

  Speaking of, the man still had a hold on his arm and he was probably taking too long to reply. “Sorry— Was just makin’ sure my sister didn’t go ballistic...” He sighed, slight fatigue made his posture drop for a moment. Jackson was never one for confrontation like so, he avoided it as best he can. Trouble seemed to want to do otherwise, however, and there was no helping that. 

  “The guy was bein’ a dick and makin’ people uncomfortable. I tried to talk some sense into him but he grabbed me.” He gestured to the wrinkled front of his costume with a slight huff. He was going to have to iron it out either at Jo’s apartment or when he goes back home. “— Got freaked out a bit by it and that’s when I whacked the guy with lyre. Nothin’ more than that.” The expression on his face was an honest one, the exhaustion from that near fight weighed on him and he did feel bad about it. He tried to avoid causing a scene, but the circumstances weren't in his favor at that moment.

[koslizlo]

All this money & it’s makin’ me go ballistic.