#and boy i could not be fucked to put in a support ticket being like pwetty pwease i wanna customise my sideblog mr tumblr support 🥺🥺

[themightiestpotato]

tumblr's 'you need permission to use javascript to customise your blog' can eat my entire ass

[bambikisss]

When at Coachella :: Song Mingi

Lead Guitarist! Mingi x Singer! Reader (ft Manager!Yeosang)

🎶: Rude boy - Rihanna, Slow Down - Chase Atlantic, Mamacita - Chase Atlantic

📙: You and your band are on a sold out tour when you decide to make a pit stop at Coachella to perform, the performance being as hot as possible, leading to a night between you and your guitarist boyfriend, Song Mingi.

⚠: Unprotected sex (always wrap it up), accepting alcohol from a fan, public sex, Voyeurism (ft Yeosang), 69, talk about becoming an adult entertainer

Bambi's notes: I'm back! I recently watched Coachella and loved how Mingi looked and acted, so I used it as inspiration. I also realized that I haven't done anything with our Yeosang yet, so I thought this is how I introduce him to my writings lol. There also may be a part two for this 👀

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED

"Showtime in 10 minutes, everyone make sure you are ready!"

You could hear the roar of the crowd from your dressing room backstage, smirking as you heard the chants for you as you put on your lip gloss in the mirror.

Due to popular demand, you were to headline Coachella for the first time, being the reason for the surge in ticket sales. You were a very popular singer, you and your band are currently on a sold-out tour, making a pit stop at the festival for the night.

"You always look so good when you're like that."

Your smirk only grew as the door closed behind your guitarist, the click from locking the door echoing in the room as he approached you. You didn't move, allowing his hands to rest on your hips before slowly moving down to your skirt, his thumbs grazing the bottom of your ass. You were bent over the vanity, your hands moving to support you against the mirror as the man behind you licked his lips, pressing his body against yours as he played with the fabric of your skirt. You knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do a lot more than touch it, his eyes moving up your back slowly to meet your eyes in the mirror with a smirk of his own.

"Don't you know that you're not allowed in here, Mingi? Yeosang is going to get upset that you're in here after he banned you from being alone with me before performances."

"Who gives a fuck what stick up his ass Yeosang has to say about me seeing my sexy girlfriend?" Mingi scoffed, his hands slowly pushing up your skirt more to see the globe of your ass, chuckling when you began to move your hips side to side, giving your ass some movement against him. "Hey, be nice, he's our manager. He's just trying to look out for us and make sure that I get on stage on time, unlike the last time you came back here before a show."

At your words, a proud smile moves over Mingi's lip, remembering how he had you pinned against the wall at one of your concerts, making you late to get on stage after he drilled into you. He wouldn't stop until you came hard around him at least 3 times. He wouldn't take any excuse, even when Yeosang came banging on the door, following after you with a shit-eating grin on his face when you both emerged from the room.

"You excited for Chella, babygirl? The crowd is chanting your name." Mingi hummed, fixing his platinum hair in the mirror above you before pulling back to let you stand up straight, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both made your way to the stage. You nodded, picking up your microphone and in ears while Mingi did the same. Your set was around 22 songs, including 2 costume changes and even a special guest. Your show was one everyone was looking forward to and you wanted to make sure that you met their expectations.

You and the rest of your band listened to Yeosang give a rundown of the stage as you all stood up on the lift, Mingi's dark blue guitar resting against his feet as he bit his guitar pic, something he did before every performance. You nodded, smiling as the lift began to move up, the cheers growing louder and louder until you were on the stage, the huge crowd of people screaming their hearts out at your appearance.

"Coachella, make some noise for me!" The crowd was like putty in your hands, screaming even louder before the first song began. The crowd cheered for each band member as you introduced them.

You made a show of walking over to Mingi, the crowd getting even louder when you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. "This is my right-hand man and lead guitarist, Song Mingi" Mingi accompanied your introduction with a guitar rift, your fans barking for him. It was a staple whenever he performed to bark for him, the barking growing louder as many of the Coachella crowd picked up on the trend, barking for him as well.

Your set was full of cheers, the band playing perfectly as usual, interacting with the fans while you sang. You were even able to get close enough to the fans to have them touch you, which Mingi smirked at. While you were on your knees in front of your fans singing, Mingi came over to play his guitar closer, the crowd exploding as he began to drop to his knees, performing the guitar rift right over you as you continued to sing. The moment would go viral on social media, you already knew it, but you were much more concerned with Mingi's dark eyes that met yours while he played before he shot you a secret wink, raising himself back up from being over you before he walked to play at the other side of the stage.

You were having fun singing, flirting more with Mingi as the songs went on, your touches getting hotter for opening his jacket during his solo to show off his fresh 'FIX ON' tattoo that moved over his chest and his abs, singing right behind him while he played, his head moving back to rest on your shoulder while he played. You could tell by the way he stared at you that he would've taken you right there on that stage if he could, his lust for you growing more and more as the songs went on.

Mingi was full of his own tricks, though, grabbing a shot of whiskey from a fan for both of you, holding one for himself before he handed it to you, you both taking the shot before he poured the rest on his head, shaking his head as he played, your eyes falling on the droplets of whiskey that moved down his chest and abs. Mingi then took the opportunity to press his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to keep eye contact with you. He wanted you to focus on him as he played, your vocals never wavering as you and he held eye contact, singing flirtatious lyrics as if you both were alone.

"Thank you Coachella!" You waved goodbye as your set finally ended, walking back to the lift with your band members, the crowd still cheering for you as the lift slowly fell as you all waved, Mingi's free hand landing on your lower back as you all slowly disappeared.

"Good job everyone, you all are trending on every social media site!" Yeosang complimented you all as you all walked from the lift, accepting the water bottles he handed out. You had barely taken a few sips of your water when Mingi began to drag you away from everyone else. Coachella's backstage area was all outside, the trailers being only for the artists to get ready. However, Mingi didn't have the patience to go all the way to the trailer, bringing you to an area that was empty near the stage, hidden behind a pillar. You didn't have to question him at all, his hands landing on your hips as your lips met his in a heated kiss, Mingi's grip on you tightening as he pressed his body against yours.

You ran your hands through his hair as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pressed your back against the pillar again, letting you feel just how much he wanted you. At your moan when he rolled his hips into you, he shushed you quickly, his teeth dragging along your bottom lip before he placed a finger against his lips, whispering "shh, baby. keep quiet for me, yeah? Don't want anyone to come over here for us."

"I thought you had always wanted an audience though?" You whispered back against his lips, your nails slowly dragging down his chest as he moaned softly. It was true: Mingi had a thing for pleasuring you with an audience, eating you out underneath tables when you are going live with fans, doing the same thing when you're recording with the producer in the room, Mingi wanted everyone to know just how good he could make you feel.

Mingi smirked, his hands grabbing at your breasts over your top as he responded "Can you handle that, though? Can you handle someone watching us with their hands down their pants as I fuck your pretty pussy? You won't get all embarrassed and try and look away as per usual?''

You nodded, feeling like you were in a haze as Mingi returned his lips to yours, his tongue teasingly moving over yours before he pulled back, his chest moving as he began to roll his hips against you. You were deep down happy that there was no one around the area, everyone backstage either leaving, trying to beat the traffic, or helping to pick up the trash around the festival site.

"Are you two done?" Your kiss with Mingi broke with Mingi's annoyed groan at Yeosang's words, rolling his eyes as he turned to face him. His eyes drilled into the manager before an idea came into his head. "Baby, Yeosang had to sign an NDA before he began working with us, right?"

"Yeah, he signed a bunch of them, why?" You remained in Mingi's arms as he turned to face Yeosang, a devious smirk moving over his lips before he said "No, actually, me and Y/N here aren't done. If you want to talk to her so much, you're going to have to talk to her while I eat her out."

Mingi's words made Yeosang blush, stuttering out a small "what?"

"You heard me: Either you wait to talk to her," Mingi paused, unwrapping your legs from around his waist before he placed you back down on the ground, Mingi's lips meeting yours before he slowly kissed down your body, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Or, you can stand here and talk to her while I eat out her wet pussy, your choice."

Yeosang couldn't help but stutter, trying to figure out if Mingi was serious, but when Mingi began to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, he could tell that he was in fact serious. At Yeosang not moving, Mingi smirked before looking up at you, asking "You're okay with our manager Yeosang watching us, right? I mean, whatever he has to say must be so important that it can't wait for us to finish." You bit your lip as you nodded, a small moan leaving your lips as Mingi bit down on your thigh, saying "No baby, out loud. Look at Yeosang and say it's okay if he watches."

"It's okay if you watch" You whimpered to Yeosang as Mingi kissed over his bite, placing your leg up onto his shoulder before he kissed up your thigh, his focus now only on your pussy as Yeosang cleared his throat. He felt challenged as if Mingi was challenging him to see if he wouldn't be able to handle the sight, but he could. Heck, he had walked past you both constantly fucking all the time, this was nothing different other than that he could see it.

"So, I'm going to go over the analytics of tonight's performance with you along with how payment is going to work." You nodded as Mingi pushed your panties to the side, cursing softly at how wet you seemed to be before he dipped his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tried to keep your facial emotions in check while Mingi ate you out, trying your hardest to pay attention to Yeosang's words and analytics from the show on social media. Mingi looked up at you as you kept talking to Yeosang, sucking hard on your clit to make you moan out loud in the middle of your sentence, your hand moving into his hair to press him against your pussy, making him moan into you. You wanted to keep him busy from trying to play with you, your cheeks already on fire from how Yeosang was watching you both.

Mingi smirked as your leg began to tense on his shoulder, letting him know that you were just about to cum. He slowly kissed up your body, his ringed fingers playing with your pussy lips as he whispered into your ear "you're focusing so hard baby, let me help you relax a bit"

You bit your lip harder as Mingi easily slipped 3 fingers into you, your hands rushing out to grip his forearm as Yeosang continued to talk to you, his eyes glancing down at your hands as they gripped Mingi's moving forearm as he fucked up into you with his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, Mingi's lips all over your neck as he shamelessly whispered into your ear all about the things he wanted to do to you. Yeosang felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight and the sound, his eyes slowly moving back up your body as you tried to hold back all your sounds. He hummed before holding up his tablet, needing your signature for something.

Your hands shook as you accepted the tablet from him, your orgasm right about to wash over you as you signed your name on the tablet. Mingi smirked as you came all over his hands, his gaze now moving to Yeosang as he slowly pulled his hands from you. You cleared your throat as you handed back the tablet, your signature drawn messily onto the page. Mingi shamelessly sucked on his fingers as Yeosang looked down at the tablet, holding back his smirk when he noticed that you had written your signature while you were cumming.

You rested against Mingi as he began walking to the limo, chuckling deeply before he paused, turning around to face Yeosang. "If you'll excuse me and Y/N, we're going back to the hotel. I'm sure everything else you need to say can wait?"

"Of course" Yeosang hummed, his eyes moving over both you and Mingi before he walked past you, his arm grazing yours as he made his way to his ride back to the hotel without even glancing back. "I think he liked it," Mingi chuckled, picking you up before carrying you to the limo, having you sit on his lap before your lips met in a heated kiss. You and Mingi kissed as the limo driver turned up the music, giving both you and Mingi as much privacy as he could as he was used to you both doing this. Mingi's hands moved down to your hips, his hands moving underneath the skirt to knead your ass as you deepened the kiss, your hips moving against Mingi's, his hard cock pressing against his belt hard.

Mingi tossed his head back as you kissed down his neck, your hands moving over his chest as Mingi helped you grind down against him, his eyes closing as you bit down on him. "That's my baby, mark me up. I wanna post a selfie tomorrow showing all your marks off on me." Mingi loved seeing the comments on the post debating whether or not it was real or not, if they came from a woman or from somewhere else- it always got him off.

"Should start recording us," he moaned out as you removed his belt, his hand landing harshly on your ass before he licked his lips. "Have you be my own private little porn star."

You moaned at his words, licking up his neck as Mingi continued to moan out his desires, not caring about the poor driver in the front as he dragged his hands up your ass slowly, his nails digging into you before you shut him up with a kiss, your lips and tongue meeting in a messy kiss that was fit for a porn star.

When the limo finally pulled into the hotel, Mingi and you rushed to exit the car before you both rushed into the hotel through the back that was for celebrities, bypassing the many cameras. Mingi and you both laughed as he pressed you against the wall of the staircase, your lips meeting in a deep kiss as you both stumbled up the stairs to your floor. Mingi then pressed you against your hotel room door, panting against your neck as his hands already began to unzip your skirt, his voice against your ear neck as he panted "You better hurry up before I shove down your skirt and take you in this hallway, maybe we can give the security team a show next."

You bit your lip as you pressed your keycard against the door, knowing that the security of the hotel didn't sign an NDA, unlike Yeosang. You pushed open the door, Mingi's body immediately following yours as you both entered the room, his heavy boots kicked the door closed before his lips met yours again in a messy kiss.

Clothing began to be thrown all around the bedroom as you both made your way to the nearest surface, which so happened to be the floor. Mingi chuckled softly as you both landed on the floor, Mingi's back pressing against the hotel's expensive carpet as he helped you move on top of him, moving you so you faced his cock while he could have you sit on his face. "Put that pretty pussy on my face, baby."

You didn't have to be told twice, moaning as your pussy landed right on his mouth, his tongue moving quickly to taste you. Your eyes closed, your nails digging into his abs before you leaned down to take his cock into your mouth, his own eyes rolling back at the feeling. Mingi swore there was something about how you took him deep in your throat that always made him fucking ravenous. He growled deeply against you, his hands moving to grip the globes of your ass as you took him deeper into your throat, all the way to the hilt.

"That's my fucking girl, taking me like a pro." Mingi praised, his tongue returning to you to match the pace that you set.

You stopped? He stopped.

You rolled your hips back? He rolled his hips up to make you choke on his cock.

Mingi was a man of many talents, and making you cum quickly was number one.

"I'm gonna cum, Mingi, fuck." You pulled back from his cock to pump him in your hand, your words urging your boyfriend to speed up as he curled his tongue, pumping another finger into you as he moaned, the vibrations helping you to cum all over his tongue.

Even though your haze you continued to pump Mingi's hard cock, Mingi tossing his head back against the floor as he praised you. "Faster, baby. Earn that nut from me, baby. I'm almost there with you just don't stop- oh my fucking god, yes"

Mingi couldn't even think straight as you deep-throated him, a small whine leaving his deep voice as he came. He didn't know what to grab onto, choosing to dig his fingers into your ass before he fully fell back against the floor, his body shaking slightly underneath you while you cleaned him up with your tongue. Mingi chuckled at the feeling, his hand landing a firm smack on your ass before he ran a hand over his face.

"You always make me cum so hard when you do that, baby. Always know how to make your man so fucking happy." He chuckled, helping you get up before he got up from the floor, his legs now slightly wobbly before as he laughed. He walked with you over to the bed, his hands resting against the sheets as he asked for a minute, still shaking from the orgasm you had given him, making you giggle. You loved watching Mingi recover from cumming, his hair being a mess, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the fresh layer of sweat making him glow in the room's light.

You crawled over to his hunched frame, pressing small kisses to his shoulders as he chuckled, his voice now even deeper. His hands then pushed you back on the bed, his tongue moving over your lips as he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He slowly pushed into you, his long and thick cock stretching you out as he slowly filled you up, making sure that you felt every single part of his cock.

"Yeah, baby, roll those eyes back at how good just having my cock feels in you" Mingi moaned, his eyes burning into you as your eyes rolled back as he stuffed you full. He loved how your body seemed to react to his cock whenever you both fucked, his eyes now on your breasts as he began to fuck you, watching as they bounced.

"Those perfect tits of yours too, fuck. Saw Yeosang looking at them earlier while I was finger fucking you. I don't blame him though, just look at how juicy your tits look when they're moving from my fucking cock" you moaned as Mingi's hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he began to roll his hips, leaning down to wrap his lips around the nipple. Your moans got louder, your running through his hair as he switched nipples, his tongue moving over your nipples before he pulled back, pressing them against each other as he moved faster.

"Yeah, sing for me, Y/N. Sing for me while you take my cock" Mingi's pace picked up to drill into you, using your breasts as leverage to move you on his cock, his cock hitting deep into you as you moaned his name, your hands moving from the bed to his hair to his back; you didn't know where to hold on as he fucked you, your back arching as you felt your orgasm building up quickly. At your tightness, Mingi growled "No, not yet. You better hold on until I'm fucking ready, Y/N."

"Mingi" You begged, you cries not making your lover stop, only moving faster, his eyes moving from your face to your tits he still held onto your stomach as his cock plowed into you. He loved how you begged for him, his cock twitching before growled out "cum, cum for me baby"

You both came hard, your vision becoming blurry as Mingi's pace stuttered, his cock plowing into you before he filled you, his eyes closing before he rushed down to suck and lick on your tits, leaving hickies behind as he moaned and panted against you. You held him close as you both panted, Mingi soon landing on the bed right against you as you both tried to calm down. Your eyes were closed as Mingi kissed your shoulder, his hand moving your face to his as he kissed you, his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

You rested against the bed as Mingi got up, blinking still as his vision returned, stumbling to grab both you and him a water bottle before he went back over to you, his phone also in his hand. He opened your bottle, handing it to you before he said "I'll turn the water on for you, baby, just lay there."

You nodded, resting with the cold water bottle while Mingi went into the bathroom, turning on the water for you and him to bathe. He sat down against the side of the tub, taking a sip of his water as he unlocked his phone, his eyes zeroing in on a text from Yeosang.

Yeosang: If you and her ever want an audience or more, I'd be more than happy to do so again.

BAMBIKISSS | 2024

[nicksolemnlyswears]

HOTD S2 EP3 THOUGHTS

SPOILERS AHEAD

Where do i fucking start? So much happened Im still reeling

Im laughing cause we were all expecting to see more of the Blackwoods at the beginning and we just got the trailer scene. So that left me cackling. Granted it was quickly wiped away by the massacre scene.

I truly love how Criston Cole is utterly clueless and regretting every decision he’s made. He’s way in too deep and everyone knows it.

Let’s give a big shout out to Rhaenys who keeps speaking the truth and honestly being a great Hand to Rhaenyra even if she doesn’t hold that title. She’s the OG

Was expecting more of Daemon and bloodshed and dragonfire but my dude was simply in a fever dream of sorts? maybe he did get poisoned or something? Maybe the dark haired lady is a witch? So many questions and not enough answers

Talking about that scene I was so happy to see Millie back if only for a scene. It was such a nice surprise! I thought it was Aemma when he entered the room.

There’s the bit of Aegon saying he can be feared and baby boy just wants to prove himself. I can’t blame him literally no one sees him capable. They only use him.

It was so hilarious when the white cloaks where talking about one of the younger ones having never bed a woman and he was like 🤔 didn’t you swore celibacy. It seemed very innocent at the moment but that clearly went to hell later.

Fuck Larys Strong is all I gotta say. One manipulative motherfucker. Not even his house wants him.

I lowkey really like Mysaria. She’s an interesting character.

Rhaena baby I know you want a role in war but literally get that ticket out of the bloodshed and thank me later.

Rhaenyra is such a good mom protecting her children from the ugliness of war.

Were those Daenerys eggs? 👀 I really want there to be a cameo about them.

Jacaerys is so impatient. I can feel him shaking. He wants to fight he wants a purpose but he respects his mama at least.

Jacaerys hugging Joffrey? My heart ached.

Can’t fucking believe Criston Cole took the time to get a fucking haircut. Looks so stupid on him too. Good for me though it’s easier to hate him.

…does Alicents brother seem fruity to you? or just me? 👀👀 Guess it runs in the family

A dragonseed at last? But where’s the blonde hair? I thought the blonde was like a dominant gene? The dude was so invested in his family history. Bless his heart. Looks like he supports the Blacks so I’m all for that.

Okay the brothel scene. I got pikachu’d like three times. First, when he opens the first curtain and there’s a woman giving it her all. She was gagged (almost literally). Second, AEGON FINDING AEMON. I was so shook I really didn’t think it could get worse from there. But then Aemond stands and it’s like shocked pikachu x3. Respectfully Aemond looking good.

Aemond really put that mask on so fast. He was like “eh fuck her see if i care” baby boy…you care very much.

Moving on! Baela! How the fuck can she see anything from so high up! My miopía could never!

Alicent and her fucking candles. She needs a lighter.

I’ve been pikachued once more! I can’t believe Rhaenyra went through with the plan! It’s so odd seeing them together once more!

Our mothers are together once more!!! I had to laugh they were so awkward at first. Rhaenyra didn’t know what to do with herself. She even admits knowing she went about it all wrong. Peak Comedy.

You guys don’t know the joy I felt when Alicent realized it’s about Aegon the Conqueror and not her son. OMG.

At the same time I wa so sad for Rhaenyra cause for a moment she really though Viserys had changed his mind but suck on that Alicent.

She went to being a bitch so quickly. God I hate her. Rhaenyra is trying to make peace and she refuses. Fuck her. Can’t stand her. Even knowing Viserys never meant for Aegon to be king.

Overall, another great episode although I expected more from Daemon.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Beacon

Beacon the therapy dog! USA Gymnastics Goodest Boy! From this ask

Takes place at U.S. Olympic Trials in June.

Find the rest of the Olympics AU here

Author's note: Since the Olympics are like a real thing now, I have a feeling I might start writing some extra little things for this AU outside of the "main timeline" I've developed. Like this. Or that massage gun scene. People wanted Beacon, so Beacon you will get. I’m also giving Beacon a bigger role on the competition floor itself because it’s more fun that way.

I'll have to figure out a better way to put things like this into a masterpost.

Photo from goldendogbeacon on Instagram

---

Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck it up. 

Don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t 

Don’t fuck this up John. 

Breathe. Focus. Focus focus focus 

Hold yourself together. Don’t think so much. Stop thinking so much. 

It’s just a normal meet. Nothing weird. Not at all. You’re fine. Your leg will be fine. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t fine. 

Under-rotate the landings if you have to and you’ll be fine. Wear the brace even though it bruises the shit out of your shin. Small price to pay. 

It doesn’t hurt you’re being stupid you only have three events left you’re halfway done you’re doing fine it’s going to be okay stop thinking so damn much. 

Don’t. 

Fuck.

Up. 

Don’t-

Bucky’s internal monologue is interrupted by something wet pressing against his arm. He glances down to see a moist black nose sniffing at him, nuzzling at his hand. Again. 

Beacon. USA gymnastics certified good boy, their emotional support golden retriever who the entire team has fallen in love with. He’s been making the rounds in between rotations, cheering up athletes and lightening the atmosphere of one of the most stressful days of the season: the fight for a ticket to Paris. The gymnasts play with the golden every chance they can get. It’s only rotation 3 and already Curt has had to be half dragged to the apparatuses because he doesn’t want to stop playing with the dog. 

“This is clearly more important,” he told their coach, who could do nothing but roll his eyes and gently shove Curt on to his next event. 

Everyone can benefit from a therapy dog hanging out at the meet. But the dog in question seems to think Bucky, in particular, needs all the emotional support in the world. 

Bucky huffs out a breath and feels his mouth attempt to lift into a shaky smile that falls immediately. He reaches a hand out to scratch Beacon on the head. He’s sitting on the floor in the center of the stadium at Target Center, his left leg stretched out in front of him, awaiting the start of rotation 4. He can’t decide if he’s actually starting to feel pain in his knee, or if it’s his mind playing tricks on him. He’s been paranoid all day. 

It’s the U.S. gymnastics trials, a meet that Bucky didn’t even think he’d be at six months ago. It’s June, and he didn’t even start tumbling on floor again until April. Didn’t stick his first landing until just two months ago, and even then, most of the time it was onto a mat rather than onto the spring floor itself. The doctors warned him not to come back too soon. They told him he may never compete internationally again. They begged him not to do floor, at the very least, because of the pressure it puts on the lower body.

But he’s never been one to back down from what he believes he needs to do, no matter how sick to his stomach it makes him feel. So he didn’t listen, and now he can’t help but wonder if they were right.

He didn’t decide to compete at Championships, much less Trials, until the eleventh hour when he could no longer stand the idea of missing out on the mere chance of competing in Paris just because he was scared. 

Scared. 

Ridiculous. 

Scared is not something John Egan has ever felt about gymnastics. Fearless, they used to call him. 

He supposes they still do, whoever they are. The commentators. His teammates. The whole country, if he’s feeling egoistic. They don’t see the spiraling abyss that is his mind. All they see is the U.S. gymnastics poster boy who was counted out three months ago due to a catastrophic injury but crawled his way back up from the ashes with a blind determination to get back on top. 

They can call him fearless if they want to. But sitting here, in the middle of the stadium, surrounded by other team USA hopefuls, he doesn’t feel fearless at all. He’s survived floor, pommel horse, and rings. He should be feeling more confident by now. He should be calming down the further into this competition he gets. But he finds the opposite to be true. His heart keeps beating too fast and he can’t make it stop. He’s twitchy. He’s nervous. He’s tense. 

He hates it. 

Maybe that’s why Beacon the therapy dog keeps seeking him out in a gym full of other athletes who must be feeling nervous, too. Something about dogs being able to sense how you’re feeling, right? Maybe John’s anxiety is just that much more obvious. 

Great. He went from being cocky, carefree, confident John Egan, USA gymnastics champion to being… well, an anxious mess of a comeback story who can’t afford to let the world see how badly he wants to disappear at this moment. All they see is the smiles he gives the camera, the high scores he puts up on his events, and the way he walks around this stadium with his head held high like he already knows he’s back on top. 

The dog, on the other hand, sees the way his heart is pounding too loud, the way his fingers twitch in his lap, the way he keeps trying to rub the tension out of his bad leg. 

Bucky finds it funny that a dog can see right through him when no one else can. And yet, it works. As he pets the dog, he feels his heart calm down. The tension eases just the littlest bit out of his shoulders. Beacon nudges his hand again and lays down, crawling half into Bucky’s lap. 

“You’re a good boy,” Bucky says. He takes another deep breath. 

“Is he bothering you?” Beacon’s owner asks, even though they know full well that Bucky must be freaking out a little if Beacon keeps returning to him. The dog always knows who needs him. 

Bucky laughs shakily and shakes his head. “No. No, not at all.” He runs his hand over Beacon’s soft hair, looking into the dog’s innocent brown eyes, which look right back at him. “Actually, would it be okay if he stayed with me for a little bit?”

Beacon’s owner smiles at him and tells him of course that’s okay. And so, leash in hand, Bucky finds himself with his own personal therapy dog for a little while. Every time he starts to feel nervous again, the dog knows. He starts licking Bucky’s hand or cuddling against him or booping him with his nose. And it always makes Bucky smile and take a deep breath. 

“You’re monopolizing the dog,” Curt tells him when he finishes on still rings and returns to Bucky’s side. 

“He’s mine now,” Bucky declares. Beacon nuzzles against his leg as if to prove the point. “He’s my new bestie.”

Curt gasps dramatically as he reaches for his water bottle, pressing a hand over his heart. “I’ve been replaced!”

“He’s a hell of a lot cuter than you,” Bucky teases. The dog smiles when Bucky smiles, like making Bucky smile is a great achievement. Like he’s saying yes! Be happy! Good job!

Curt reaches down to pat the dog on the side. “Well we’re moving to vault, so you’re gonna have to give him up to the rest of us.”

Bucky’s vault goes off without a hitch, other than his brace slamming uncomfortably against his leg with every step as he sprints down the track. It’s not the event that nearly ruined his life, but it puts his bad knee through more grief than any other event except maybe floor exercise. He nearly collapses after he sticks the landing out of pure relief, the adrenaline still coursing through his body and making his heart pound even as his leg feels like jell-o. He shakes himself out, wills the feeling to return to his leg, and slowly, carefully, hops down off the vault podium. 

Before he can even sit down, Beacon is at his side, tail wagging excitedly as he smiles up at Bucky. “Hey best friend,” Bucky chuckles. He eases himself down into a chair as one of his coaches kneels in front of him to help him get the brace off and set to work massaging his knee. The dog stays loyally at his side through the whole ordeal, his head resting on top of Bucky’s thigh. 

“Got yourself a friend,” the coach says. 

Bucky smiles, his breathing starting to return to normal. “Sure do.”

—

After parallel bars, Curt and Croz pat him on the back and remind him that he’s almost done for the day. He’s so close. Just one more rotation. Just high bar to go. 

Just high bar. 

Bucky feels like he’s moving in slow motion, slogging his way through reality with far too much effort as he smiles at his friends and walks back towards the chair he left his bag on. He only has one event left today. Just one. But it’s the one that almost ended his career. 

It’s the event that he’s been afraid of ever since. The one that he spent months retraining himself to do, just trying not to bail out of his release moves because of the fear he couldn’t control. The one that made him scream in frustration and think about throwing in the towel because if he couldn't get past the damn mental block what was the point? As recently as the day before US Championships, he was still freaking out halfway through and letting himself tumble off the bar because his chest would seize up and his leg would throb and the world spinning around him would make him so dizzy he thought he might vomit. 

It was a freak accident. Theoretically, he knows that. It’s not something that’s likely to ever happen to him again. But he is not in the business of luck at this point. Luck is an altar at which he’s never worshiped, and he sure as hell isn’t going to now. He’s forcing himself to accept the fact that shit could go south, and he has no control. All he can do is try his damned best to push himself through and do what he’s trained his entire life to do. 

It’s just another meet. Don’t think about it too much. 

He didn’t start competing again until early May. At that point, he wasn’t even doing every event. Hell, he wasn’t even doing dismounts. On high bar, parallel bars, and still rings, he’d simply do his routine and then ease himself off the apparatus. Everyone in attendance, every athlete and every judge, would cheer so loudly for him anyways just because he was there. Just because he was doing it at all. 

But that won’t fly here. Not if he wants trials to count. Not if he wants that ticket to Paris. 

And he told himself yesterday that the win was being here. It didn’t matter what happened. He got himself here, and that was what mattered. But it’s not enough anymore. Not now that he’s in this stadium, pushing himself through this competition with a dizzying mix of anxiety and pure, ferocious determination coursing through him. He won’t have won until he’s on a podium at the 2024 Olympics with a medal around his neck. 

“You’re so close, Bucky,” Curt is saying as he walks away from parallel bars. “We’re almost done. We can do this.”

But it’s not his friends that break through the muffled underwater way he’s experiencing the world around him. It’s a happy-go-lucky golden retriever. 

Beacon breaks away from a group of other gymnasts when he sees Bucky walking towards him, and the other guys can’t even be disappointed about it when they see the way Bucky collapses onto the ground and wraps his arms around the dog. Beacon licks his cheek and nuzzles at his ear, and Bucky hides his face against the soft fur, willing himself not to lose it. His chest feels tight. His leg is aching. It’s not in his head, it’s real. And he’s trying not to let a dull but taunting pain, which historically he would’ve pushed through no problem, pull him out of Olympic contention. 

But the dog won’t leave his side. He knows what his job is, and he tries his best to take all the fear away in the time they have before Bucky starts the final rotation. 

Stay calm, Bucky tells himself as he pats the dog on the head one more time before heading over to high bar. 

Stop thinking so much, he tells himself as he adjusts his grips over his fingers and around his wrist. 

Don’t fuck it up, he tells himself as he rubs chalk over his hands. 

And then his coach is lifting him to the bar and he doesn’t have time to think anymore. Just do it. You can do it. You have to do it. 

“You got this!” Curt his yelling. “You’re good! You got it!”

So Bucky takes a deep breath and pulls himself up, sends himself into his first giant, then his first release move. His second. His third. 

He doesn’t think. He lets himself fly through the air, lets his body do what it knows it has to do, and when he lands, he can’t keep the grin off of his face as he yells out in triumph. 

It’s only his second time doing a full dismount off high bar in a competition since his accident. His second. And he stuck it. He did it. He fucking did it. 

Now he just has to do it all again tomorrow. 

As he hops off the high bar podium, overwhelmed with relief, Curt and Croz flank him on either side, cheering him on as he closes out day one of trials well in the lead. As he walks away from the last apparatus, though, his eyes find a happy golden retriever, staring right back at him. Beacon pulls against his owner’s leash, and the owner lets go with a laugh, letting the dog charge at Bucky. 

Bucky grins and drops to his good knee just in time for Beacon to barrel into his chest. Bucky scratches the dog all over, laughing as Beacon licks his face and wriggles around in his arms. 

“You gonna be my good luck charm?” Bucky asks. “You gonna help me get to Paris?” The dog licks his nose in reply. “Good. I’m gonna need you to help me through this.”

When asked what it took to get to the 2024 Olympics, Bucky will talk about the excruciating recovery process, the training, the frustrating days spent in the gym, the never ending support of his teammates and coaches. He’ll talk about everything it took to get to Trials alone. But then he will also always give credit to Beacon, USA certified good boy, because he honestly believes he wouldn’t have made it through Trials without him. 

…

…

Beacon will return in a future event finals update

[harlowtales]

Ok Mice!

Jack x Reader go to the ballet for a holiday classic. Jack does his best to appreciate fine art 🩰 🎄🐭

18+ Romance/Humour

“Hun are you ready?” You asked your boyfriend. We’re going to be late!” You were busy putting the finishing touches on your makeup and hair while Jack was walking around looking clueless in his underwear.

“Have you seen my favourite sweater? He asked scratching his head. “Swear I had asked you to put it out for me on the bed.”

“Jackman, it’s right there. You put your pants on it.” You said exasperated you always had to get both of you ready.

“I don’t want to wear these pants. I wanted to wear the other ones.” He said to you which put you over the edge.

“Listen. You are a grown man. Wear. What. You. Want.” You said slowly so he knew you were really pissed.

“Ok you know what I love the pants you put out. I change my mind.” He said with a peck on your forehead and a smile. He could tell he was getting on your nerves but didn’t mean to. He felt helpless around you and had to make so many decisions all the time it was nice to feel cared for. This was fine most of the time as you loved your boyfriend so much, but not when he was making you late!

“You got the tickets in your phone?” He asked you as you both scurried down the long hallway to your box seats.

“Got it!” You said and showed your phone hastily to the ticket taker who swiped the barcode and hurriedly showed you to your seats.

“You look beautiful by the way.” Jack said and kissed your hand that he was holding as the lights in the theatre went down to start the show.

“Thank you baby you look wonderful too.” You complimented him back sincerely. Your good friend was in this holiday season’s rendition of the ballet classic The Nutcracker and Jack and you were honoured guests. Because of you the Jack Harlow foundation had saved the struggling ballet company from collapse.

As they finished the first number Jack was so impressed he stood up and said “Woooo!!” To which you wanted to hide. The entire house looked at him.

“Jack…baby…you don’t do that at the ballet.” You lovingly corrected him in a hushed whisper. “Just a polite clap will do and not too loud either.”

“Oh shit my bad.” Jack said turning red. He had never been to the ballet before and you could see the headlines tomorrow “Rapper Goes to Ballet.”

“Babe” Jack whispered “Where’s your friend? Is he the other dude in the tights and shit?”

You mustered all your patience and explained yes that your friend was the only other guy on stage. Jack felt kind of like a fish out of water. He had been to classy parties before but they were still parties. This was like being in church. He started to squirm and get too hot in his sweater. “I gotta stretch my legs.” He whispered and stood up before you could object. You wished he would have waited until intermission to get up because he drew attention again.

During intermission you found him animatedly chatting with the ticket takers who played basketball at his old high school Atherton.

“Them MFs we played against from Lex got a fucking beating bro. I took the shot from half court and was nothing but net bitch!” Jack was boasting as he acted out his high school glory days shot.

One of the boys tapped him on the shoulder as you were behind him listening to his story with your arms folded. “She behind me ain’t she.” He said as he turned to find you not impressed.

“Hi baby you want a glass of wine before we head back in? I’m so excited for the 2nd half.” Jack said with an exaggerated grin plastered on his face.

“Jackman...” You started to say in his full government which meant nothing good.

“I been having some knee trouble since tour and just wanted to walk it out is all.” He assured you. “Let’s get some refreshments and head back.”

You knew he was full of it but was so adorable you took your glass of wine and kiss from him with a smile. You knew the ballet would be torture for him but appreciated he supported it.

“Ok Jack no getting up and no hooting and hollering.” You precautioned before the second half started.

“I got this. I can do cultured shit. You ain’t gotta lecture me damn.” He said a bit annoyed. The curtain lifted and dancers in mouse costumes crept onto the stage. “Okay mice.” Jack said getting into the story.

You giggled covering your mouth and allowed that one infraction as at least he said it quietly and had stopped fidgeting. Not 15mins later you looked over and he was nodding off. You thought it was suspicious he had been completely still and silent for 15 whole minutes.

You nudged him as the house lights came on. “Babe! Wake up!” You said partly annoyed and partly grateful you got to enjoy the last half without any interruptions from him.

He had DJ’d the night before, had an early workout session, and studio time. You knew he was exhausted. “Let’s go meet the dancers!” You said excitedly

Jack saw how you lit up at the ballet and realized he had to do more things with you that you liked. You loved his friends but more often the both of you needed time like this. “Jack Harlow!! Can you sign my ballet shoes please!!” One of the dancers said jumping up and down.

“Of course!” Jack said and asked for a sharpie marker. He knelt down and signed her satin ballet slippers as she tried to stay calm but the look on her face showed how much she wanted to scream.

“Mr. Harlow, thank you for your generous contribution.” The head of the ballet troupe said shaking his hand.

“Of what you saw.” You ribbed him chuckling

“Thank you it was a beautiful show.” Jack said graciously

“It was dope. I just don’t like having to sit and pay attention so quietly for that long.” Jack said honestly

“Well maybe we need to get you in some tights then!” The troupe leader said a little too enthusiastically.

Jack just laughed in response but said to you as you left the dancers backstage area “I know you’d be so jealous if I put on them tights.”

“Why would I be jealous? I love the ballet.” You said

“Yeah but think how nice my shit would be sittin in them things and then I’m twirling around and lifting girls above my head and seeing all up their tutus. You’d cut a bitch.” He laughed

“Jackman. No offence but me and Neelam need to get you etiquette classes.” You said seriously

“I can be classy babe it just feels weird.” He said “I will never embarrass you like that again I swear.” He apologized

“Damn right you won’t or I’m making a bet you will be in tights if you lose!” You laughed

@jacks-daycare @ride4harlow @itsyagirljaz

[kogurazu]

I'm just gonna rant my chest out regarding the recent Watcher's announcement because I'm still trying to process wtf has just happened & it's pretty late at night. (For the record, I'm one of their international viewers from a 3rd world country.)

It sucks that I cannot buy their official merch that is already expensive (due to conversion rates) + not being able to deliver in my country when I've some spare cash. That's fine by me.

It sucks that I cannot go & watch their live shows being available at certain countries that doesn't cost a damn fortune (plane tickets, hotel bookings, converting currency, etc.) + not in a million years they'll stop by SEA to do tours/live shows. That's also fine by me.

However, the way how they hyped up the announcement mentioning big things are coming only to just drop a video saying "Hey, we're leaving Youtube as the money ain't flowing much to cover our 'extravagant' expenses & all future contents will be locked behind a paywall. So if you're unable to watch most of your beloved shows because you can't pay then toodles!" That's NOT fine by me, let alone anyone else in the matter.

Even if I've a fuck ton of money to spare, I'm still not buying their monthly/yearly WatcherTV subscription because it's JUST. NOT. WORTH. IT. Who wants to buy a monthly yet alone yearly subscription just to watch 1-2 episodes of a show I like being put out weekly per season & then waiting for some time before another new season of another show that has a 50-50 chance whether I enjoy it or not pops up to fill the void? Not me, that's for sure. Damn, I rather subscribe to Netflix or buy YouTube premium if I could because the money spent is worth the content I can get on a monthly/yearly basis.

I get putting exclusive contents such as BTS, special interviews/podcasts, early access to episodes, etc. behind a paywall since they're just nice bonuses for fans who're able to support them but locking REGULAR YOUTUBE content that's not being released consistently & have nothing much to offer behind a paywall? I think you're losing your crackers on this one chief.

After watching the announcement video, I feel plainly numb & disappointed that this is the route they're going for. I understand they need the funds to make videos, pay people & also wanting the freedom to make content that you want to make without adhering to the restrictions of advertisers. I get it.

But what I don't get is this mind numbing decision to spit at the faces of people who can't afford to fork out some cash to enjoy their once free favourite shows that helped cheer them up during the tough times. It's even more disgusting what I heard from Coffeezilla's recent video about Watcher mentioning that they don't even give out a free WatcherTV subscription to their Patreon members as a way to say thank you for your patronage is really saying something eh?

_____________________________

4 years ago, I found Shane & Ryan via Buzzfeed Unsolved just like everyone else randomly being recommended to me on Youtube. I binge watched all seasons of Buzzfeed Unsolved exactly at the same time they're announcing their departure from Buzzfeed to go do their own content at Watcher. What's this? A channel where I can watch the ghoul boys do their own thing? Hell yeah, sign me tf up.

It's really nice to see Watcher growing & trying out new different shows. I'm aware not all the shows they put out matches my taste & that's fine by me. Probably there's an audience out there who enjoy these shows that aren't for me.

I remember the time I was excited when they bring in Ghost Files & Mystery Files which can fill in the Buzzfeed Unsolved void. Are You Scared? & Too Many Spirits are the shows I enjoy listening to them as background noise so that I can focus on my work.

Puppet History & Top 5 Beatdown is where I enjoy the chemistry between the talents & guests. Weird, Wonderful, World & Tourist Trapped is where I enjoy seeing cool places run by passionate people & is like a nice, come hangout with me type of video blogs.

4 years later, this is where I'll be hopping off with the knowledge that I can't no longer be able to enjoy all these shows anymore like I used to just because I can't afford to whip out some measly cash to pay for regular content that I can easily find on Youtube for free.

Even if you leave up the old videos on Youtube (after you've backpedalled your decision to remove all the videos entirely in the first place due to the backlash & gaslighting us into thinking we misunderstood but your Variety article says otherwise), the whole ordeal just makes the experience to re-watch all the content that I used to love & enjoy feels awkward & left a sour, bitter taste in my mouth.

With a very heavy heart, I say thank you for the fun shows you have been putting out these past 4 years & farewell to Team Watcher. I don't know how're you going to recover from this but I wish you a best of luck moving forward.

[ham-st4r]

NAH IM DONE WITH "ENGENES" (im looking at yall k-enegnes specfically)

WHY THE FUCK IS IT whenever enhypen releases new music, content, at a concert, fuck even breathe that these fake ass fuckers have the need to say something so shit to our boys LIKE WHAT THE FUCK IS UR PROBLEM U STANKY ASS BE GRATEFUL THAT THEY ARE DOING SO MUCH FOR US

if they have so much problem just fucking leave man no need to stay. I feel like atp they are just there for the fan service. The day enhypen stops doing that is the day we all have true engenes that can vibe together fr fr.

On god bro like damn I was literally just thinking about that shit these boys are working fucking overtime (I know they chose to be idols) like back to back tours two hour long shows send off soundcheck new music back to back like what more could you want? Not to mention all the other little side projects they do They’re unproblematic but somehow “engenes” still got shit to say? They have been harassed threatened named called and everything else under the sun but yet people still got shit to say it’s outrageous

And fuck don’t even get me started on the member favoritism holy hot damn the fact that people are singling out members and based off looks or fan service really just grinds my gears like I love heeseung with my whole entire heart but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna bash sunghoon or call jay ugly like tf be for real right now

I have zero respect for people who talk about them like that and try to claim their “engenes” not to mention all the weird fan interactions they have to endure but god forbid they meet an engene in Japan and hug them then all hell has to break loose

There’s just so much more I have to say and honestly I could write 10k words on the topic alone

Not to mention people only talk about their visuals like they are more then their visuals they make incredible music and have some of the most unique voices in kpop that I’ve heard but still everytime you see a post about them it’s about heeseung’s visuals or some nonsense (not saying there aren’t post that praise them) but for the most part I really see post about that which in my opinion is meaningless like yes they are attractive young men (I only look at heeseung btw lol) but they are more than that honestly they deserve respect cause they have done nothing but work hard to put out greatness for us so we should appreciate it they’re always active (especially jungwon)

And the fan service and other engenes being jealous of that girl who did the go big or go home dance on the big screen in Dallas I think it was people literally stalked her account and went years back to find out she was saying the N word and they started dogging her for it (I hate when people use that word) but still to drag her like that was scary and crazy all just because the boys watched her on screen I can assure that the fans are thinking about her more than enhypen so I don’t get where all the jealousy comes in from yeah I wish I got noticed on the big screen but I’m not gonna throw hate at someone just cause she did and I didn’t (and maybe that’s cause they did see me in the crowd why I’m not jealous) but even still that’s too far I understand being jealous but not to the extent of tracking someone’s account down thats actually (if it’s true I just heard this somewhere on tiktok I think) but yeah there’s so much to say and it’s all negative I’m embarrassed that I’m even associated with them by being an engene but sadly there’s nothing I can do but like you said hopefully they will leave and the real engenes will have their time to shine

Another way you can tell those “engenes” are just in it for the members is the fact they are selling their vip1 tickets cause it was said there was going to be no send off (saw it on twitter not sure if this is true either) but if it is that’s crazy like why not just show up and support them without being delusional about it and the fact they walked out last year when enhypen was still performing songs just so they could get close at sendoff like come on it’s just embarrassing atp but anything to get noticed right? Even the members couldn’t stop the “fans” from fighting so that’s how you can tell it’s just a crazed obsession but okay I’m done

For now

[starrgaziinggg]

BEGIN AGAIN | hwang hyunjin

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: chapter twenty eight

You were fully aware Hyunjin wasn't keen on being on planes; he complained every time he had to travel for work trips and meetings, texting the group chat right until the last minute to keep his mind off it. What you didn't realise was to what extent he was scared of planes, but as you sat beside him, no feeling in your right hand, you understood.

Of course Hyunjin had bought first class tickets for the two of you. It was the first time you'd ever flown first class, and you had to admit you were enjoying the new lavish lifestyle that came with being the girlfriend of CEO Hwang Hyunjin. It was all a bonus though. Despite the fact it had taken you a while to realise your feelings, you'd been in love with the man sitting beside you since he was a cocky, idiotic teenage boy with no idea what he wanted to do in life.

"Fucking hell," you hear him whisper under his breath as the plane bumps, making you jolt in your seats. You have to physically refrain from laughing at the poor man. You didn't mind planes, having flown back and forth from Korea and Australia for years, so you were Hyunjin's emotional support for the journey. Honestly, you were Hyunjin's emotional support for the trip overall. He hadn't explicitly said anything, but you could read him well at this point and could practically feel the nerves radiating from him.

You understood how he felt. If you were thrust into your father's life, meeting his other family after all this time, you'd be a mess. As much as Hyunjin resented his mum for leaving him, you knew he held her so close to his heart and all he wanted was to fix things. So, you were making it your mission to make things as easy and stress free as possible for him.

Chan had forced Hyunjin to leave his work phone at home, promising to take care of any and all matters that would arise over the weekend. You were thankful for this, since you knew how much Hyun loved his job and would do anything to make sure it was running smoothly. This, right now, was more important though, especially because of everything that had happened with his dad recently.

"Why don't you put your earphones in and try get some sleep?" You suggest, giving his hand a squeeze. "It's a long flight, and we'll be arriving in the morning, so we'll be super jet lagged."

"You don't mind?" He asks you, wide eyed and anxious. "I don't want you to be bored because I'm asleep."

"Of course I don't mind, silly. I'll just read my book," you say, waving the book you'd bought in the airport in-front of him. "I'll even let you rest your head on my shoulder."

"Sold," he says with a smile, pulling his earphones out his bag and connecting them to his phone. He places his head on your shoulder almost instantly, his hair tickling your chin. He'd decided to cut it really short again and dyed it black, which you absolutely loved since it reminded you of when you first met him. You leaned your own head on top of his, getting comfortable which wasn't hard since the first class chairs were like clouds.

Using one hand, since your other was being used by your clingy boyfriend, you settled into the book you were reading. You eventually dozed off when you felt Hyunjin's breathing slow, indicating he'd fallen asleep. Luckily, the two of you practically slept through the whole flight, waking up with just an hour or two to go.

You'd never admit it to Hyunjin, but you were honestly just as nervous as he was to meet his mum. Sure, you'd met her before, but back then you were just Hyunjin's friend. Meeting her as his girlfriend was something else entirely. You'd never met a boyfriend's parents before, the reason for that mostly because you'd never had a boyfriend long enough, but still. You wanted to make a good impression, whilst still putting on a brave face because you knew Hyun would need the emotional support.

You were surprised when you got off the plane, your hand still enclosed with Hyunjin's, and his mum was waiting to pick the two of you up with a sign reading, 'my darling son and his beautiful girlfriend.' If there was one thing you remembered about Hyunjin's mum it was her kindness, a trait her son had fully inherited. You felt Hyunjin tense up slightly at the sight of her, but her warm smile and outstretched arms were enough to break his demeanour.

You dropped his hand to let him hug her for the first time in years. You watched from the side as she squeezed him, tears spilling from her eyes as she looked up at her son. Hyunjin was just the same, looking down at his mum with so much adoration even you felt like crying.

"You're taller - how are you taller? And ten times more handsome! God, I've missed you," she said to him in Korean, which surprised you. You and Hyunjin had spent the last week brushing up on your English together, since his mum's family were American and didn't speak Korean.

"I've missed you too, mum," Hyun replied, pulling away from her slightly to look at you. "Obviously you've met before, but this is my girlfriend."

Your chest felt heavy as you smiled and awkwardly waved your hand, practically flying when Hyunjin's mum pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you of your mum - homely and kind.

"It's lovely to see you again!" She said to you with a beaming smile. "Now, before we start getting too sentimental in the airport, let's get you guys back to the house. The kids are desperate to meet you, as is Mark."

Mark, you'd been informed, was Hyunjin's mum's boyfriend. They'd been living together for years, and Hyun had told you he wouldn't be surprised if they got engaged soon. He'd also told you about his step siblings, Ellie and George, who you could tell he was excited to meet. You couldn't imagine growing up in a big house with no siblings and parents who never saw eye to eye like Hyunjin did, and you were so excited for him to finally have a proper family.

Hyunjin's mum's car was nothing short of lush. It was almost as expensive as Hyunjin's himself, which gave you an indication of what their house would look like, but when you arrived after the short drive you were nothing short of stunned. It was huge, much bigger than you'd anticipated, with so much land around it. It made your old student apartment look like a hole in the ground.

"Here we are," his mum announced as she parked in the driveway, getting out the car to help with your bags. You were only staying two nights, so you hadn't brought much. You would have loved to stay longer, but Hyunjin had work and you didn't want to put his mum out for too long.

When you walked through the grand entryway, his mum called out in English, and quickly her boyfriend and step kids appeared. "This is Mark," she nodded towards the tall man beside her. He was handsome, dark hair, beard and glasses and smiled warmly at Hyunjin and yourself as you smiled back. "And his children George and Ellie. This is my son and his girlfriend." 

You could tell the two younger children were kind of shy around Hyunjin, never having met their step brother before, and your introverted boyfriend was probably just as nervous. Ellie appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen, whereas George looked only nine or ten. The younger of the two was the first to break the silence, shyly smiling up at Hyunjin.

"Do you play football," he asked him, and you almost laughed at Hyunjin's adorable smile.

"I do, I love playing football," he replied, and you just knew they'd get along well. Hyun was always trying to get you to play with him since he used to play a lot in high school, and you'd grown quite fond of it. Hyunjin nods towards you, "But she's better."

You almost forgot to reply, too enamoured by how well Hyunjin was speaking in English to focus. You look to the younger boy with a smile. "Oh, he's totally lying."  

"I'm better than George, too," Ellie spoke up, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Why don't we have a competition later? Boys v girls?"

You smile warmly at her, nodding your head. "Sounds like a plan."

"We want in on this too," Hyunjin's mum said with a grin, looking towards Mark. "Us three v you three before dinner, winner gets to choose dessert?"

George clapped his hands at that, grinning like a madman, his dad laughing at him "You're on," Mark raised an eyebrow, turning towards you and Hyunjin. "Why don't you guys get settled into your room and then go to the pool with Ellie and George?"

"Please, can you," Ellie looked towards you, pleading eyes. "George never wants to play mermaids with me."

You laughed, watching as the younger girls eyes lit up as you did so. You loved that she wasn't going through her bratty teenage phase like you did at her age, instead embracing her child like side. "Of course I'll play mermaids with you, I haven't been swimming in years."

"C'mon, I'll show you to your room upstairs," Hyun's mum clapped, taking some of your bags and motioning for you to follow her upstairs.

Ellie and George followed you both up, heading towards their rooms to get changed for the pool, whilst you and Hyun were led by his mum to a room on the other end of the huge hallway. She pushed the door open to a gorgeous room, balcony that overlooked their back garden, pool in view. This was the life you could only ever have dreamed of living.

"Here, hope this is okay for you both! I'll be making lunch around one, but if you’re hungry now there's plenty of food you can help yourself to," she motioned downstairs to you both, placing your bags on the floor, turning to her son. "We can have a proper catch up later since I know how excited the kids were to spend time with you, but I'm so, so happy you're here. This is your home too, so please make yourselves comfortable."

She left with a wave, heading back down the stairs. Hyunjin turned to you quickly after she left, pulling your wrist gently so he could engulf your body with his own. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him rest his chin on the top of your head.

"I'm so happy," he mumbles after a couple minutes, running a hand through your hair and fiddling with the ends in his fingers. "I don't know why I was so nervous."

"It was normal for you to be nervous," you answer him, pulling away only slightly to look at him, moving a piece of black hair out of his eyes. "But they're so lovely, Hyun. I'm so happy for you."

"Hm, aren't they? George reminds me so much of myself at his age. Football was all I cared about," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's get changed and head down. Did you know I'm a really good swimmer?"

You laugh at his random, cocky announcement as you unpack your bags. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"No, not really," he answers honestly, which you roll your eyes at. "Did you know I love you, by the way?"

"Nah, wasn't aware," you answer back, shaking your head absentmindedly. "Might have to tell me a couple more times."

"I hate you," he fires back, typical bratty Hyunjin, narrowing his eyes as you laugh at him.

"No you don't."

"No," he replies, his scowl slowly turning into a smile. "I don't."

It doesn't take you long to get changed into a tight fit swimming costume. You hadn't bought a new one since you were a teenager, so things fit a bit more snuggly than they did back then. Hyunjin had told you he absolutely did not mind one bit with a smirk, so you hit him on the arm.

Ellie and George were already in the pool when the two of you got down. Hyunjin had walked in-front of you, which was a fatal mistake.

"Is it cold?" you asked him sweetly as he dipped his toe in the water, wincing at the temperature.

"Yeah, it -" he did not have time to finish his sentence, being quickly submerged by water as you cheekily pushed him in, the two younger kids howling with laughter after you did so. You stood and the side of the pool, arms crossed smugly as he reappeared, shaking his hair like a wet dog and pushing it back out his face.

"Low blow," he laughed, an outstretched arm. "Help me up."

You shook your head fondly, grabbing his arm to pull him out the water. What a stupid decision that turned out to be, when Hyunjin pulled your arm forwards so that you too fell into the pool with a splash. You coughed on the water as you laughed, unable to stay mad at him for long. It didn't stop you from attempting to drown him though, pushing his shoulders under the water with all your might. It was a futile attempt though, Hyunjin being ten times stronger than you didn't help.

You spent the rest of the morning playing mermaids with Ellie, splashing about the water like crazy people while Hyunjin and George watched on with expressions you could only describe as scared. You played volleyball, had races, and overall had so much fun playing with Hyunjin's step siblings. Hyunjin had been right, winning every race you had. You don't think his smile faltered once the whole time you were in the pool, and you honestly couldn't have been happier. Hyunjin deserved the whole world and more, and it made your heart full to see him so happy.

You dried off when lunch was announced, heading to the outdoor table where Hyunjin's mum had set up a gorgeous spread of food. The sun was beaming down on you all, a great contrast to the weather in South Korea. The boys had been asking you and Hyun about how your trip was going, to which the two of you had sent through an influx of pictures. The boys had been miserable, since the gorgeous summer sunshine had turned into heavy rain over the week.

Jisung had gone as far as to try to extend himself an invite to the trip, which Minho had hit him for, telling him not to interrupt and promising to take him somewhere just as good. When Jisung had asked where, Minho had said the cinema, so you could guess he was still sulking.

"This is great," Hyunjin commented as you'd all sat down, taking the food you wanted.

"Oh, this is nothing compared to what you'll be eating tonight," Hyunjin's mum winked.

"She's been preparing this surprise meal since you told her you'd be coming," Mark  pointed out, which you could tell embarrassed his girlfriend a bit, but you could see the pride in Mark's eyes as he said it.

"We can't wait. Hyunjin definitely didn't inherit his cooking skills from you, that's for sure," you point out with a grin, making them laugh as Hyunjin shot you a glare.

"Like you're any better," he fired back.

"Maybe you could teach us some recipes sometime?" You directed the question to Hyunjin's mum, who's eyes lit up, nodding her head.

"Of course I can," she stopped eating momentarily to look between you and Hyunjin, her gaze full of satisfaction. "Ellie loves baking with me, don't you?"

Ellie nods her head at you. "I love baking, especially brownies."

You and Hyunjin share a warm look. "Our friend Felix loves baking brownies too," he tells her. "You guys should come visit us in South Korea sometime so you can compare them."

Ellie looks to her dad expectantly, George too. "We've been talking about wanting to go to South Korea for ages!"

Mark nods. "Once El found out about your company, Hyunjin, she started listening to some of the music that your groups make. She's been desperate to see them."

"That can definitely be arranged," Hyunjin says to Ellie warmly. "We'll sort something out."

You feel like your heart might burst this trip.

Once you're all stuffed full of food, George practically drags Hyunjin over to a large bit of flat land with football nets set up, whereas you help Hyunjin's mum tidy up the dishes and plates. You do it without even thinking, and you can't help but miss Jeongin as you do it, your usual cleaning partner in crime back in Korea and sending you message after message to keep you updated on the ongoings back home.

Hyunjin's mum thanks you as you bring the dishes through to their huge, lavish kitchen. "You're such a sweetheart," she comments, placing the dishes into the dishwasher as she watches George and Hyunjin kick the football around together. You can't help but eye up your incredibly handsome boyfriend, shirtless as he fakes falling over in front of his younger brother to let him get the ball off of him. "You know, I was worried about how well he'd get on with El and George, but you're all getting along better than I could have imagined. Your English is fantastic!"

"Thank you," you replied, passing her some more dishes. "We've been practicing."

"Mm, I can tell. Hyunjin's always understood it, but he's much better at articulating what he wants to say than the last time I saw him. I take it that's your doing, since your mum's in Australia?"

You nod your head in response, scraping some food into the bin. "Yeah, I speak English with her most of the time just so I don't lose the language, so Hyunjin speaks English to her too."

"Have they met yet?"

"No, not yet," you answer with a shake of your head. "They've FaceTimed a couple times, but they'll meet in December since my mum's visiting then."

"Bet Hyun's shitting himself," his mum says boldly, making you laugh. She joins in too, "He was always such a shy kid. Don't get me wrong, he can be very loud and funny, but only when he's around people he cares about. He seems to be so at peace when he's around you, it's so endearing to watch."

You blush at her words, unable to take the compliments.

"Want to know a secret?" She asks you slyly.

"Of course," you reply, giving her the last plate to fill the dishwasher.

"I knew he was head over heels for you back when you were kids. Honestly, the way he looked at you is the way every girl dreams of being looked at, it was so obvious. Took him long enough to do something about it," she laughs, leaning back on the kitchen counter after she puts the dishwasher on.

"That's not entirely his fault, since Chris told him not to come anywhere near me," you reply, giving her an insight into your relationship. She smiles all knowingly, nodding her head.

"Right he was, to do that. Everything's worked out perfectly."

Ellie comes into the kitchen at this point, walking up to you. "You coming to get changed? George and Hyunjin want to start the football match."

"Yep, coming," you reply, looking back to Hyunjin's mum.

"Me too," she answers, and the three of you walk upstairs to get changed into more appropriate clothing for the game. You couldn't have asked to get on better with Hyunjin's family, but what could you say. They were just as amazing as Hyunjin himself, and you realise you had nothing to stress over.

Hyunjin and George were already sweating by the time you get downstairs, lying in a heap on the grass. You laugh at them, tapping Hyunjin’s leg with your foot.

“Tired out already?” You say with a raised brow, challenging him. He almost jumps out his skin to stand up, acting as though he was fine.

“Not at all,” he replies nonchalantly. Once Hyunjin’s mum and Mark join, the six of you split into boy v girl and start a game. You’re glad Hyunjin’s family are just as competitive as you are, since you’re all taking it seriously. There’s some definite rule breaking (not that the rules were very solid in the first place) when Hyunjin’s mum attempts to trip Mark up and when you may or may not have whispered something very dirty in Hyunjin’s ear to steal the ball off him.

The score ends up being 5-3 in favour of the guys when you finally call it quits, all of you too tired to function by the end of the match. It’s not too much of a loss, though, since George decided upon ice cream cake for dessert and Ellie offers to drive to the shops to pick one up for you all.

Mark wasn’t lying when he told you Hyunjin’s mum had been working on the meal she was preparing since last week, as after a shower you’re faced with probably the best spread of food you’ve ever seen in your life. It puts every Friday night dinner you’ve had to shame. As big as Hyunjin’s mothers house is, the dining room is so cosy and homely, you feel instantly welcomed and at home.

“I hope you all enjoy it,” she says wearily, finally sitting down to eat after placing the final dish on the table. It doesn’t take a second for everyone to dig in, and you think it’s definitely true that food brings people together.

Once you’re literally stuffed to the brim, unable to eat another morsel, Ellie brings out the ice cream cake she bought and you decide you have just enough room for dessert. You tell Hyunjin he will probably need to roll you to bed tonight, which he snickers at.

Later on, you end up outside on the comfortable outdoor seating, having a glass of wine with Ellie, who definitely is not of legal age to drink but also doesn’t seem to care. Hyunjin and his mum were sat round the outdoor table you ate at earlier, deep in conversation. You’d been glancing over at them every so often, your protective nature over Hyunjin seemingly taking over. He looked as though he had tears in his eyes, but you didn’t want to interrupt as they seemed to be talking through everything.

“She’s been desperate to see Hyunjin for as long as she’s been in my life,” Ellie says, catching you glance at them, causing you to jump. “She felt terrible about leaving him, still does. I heard her talking to my dad once, literally bawling her eyes out because she said she felt like she was missing out on watching her boy grow up into a man.”

It makes you want to cry, hearing that. “Hyunjin will tell her she was right to leave,” you say to the younger girl, who you know you’ll miss as soon as you go back to South Korea. “He’s selfless like that. No matter how much he wishes she’d have stayed, he will never take it out on her.”

Ellie hums, taking a sip of her wine and making a face. “Okay, I was trying to be cool by drinking wine, but this is revolting. Why do you people drink this?”

You laugh at her, taking a drink of your own. “I used to think the same thing, but eventually you just end up starting to enjoy it.”

She makes another disgusted face, opting to down the rest of her drink. “You and Hyunjin are really cute together, if you don’t mind me saying. I wish I had a girlfriend that would take care of me like you take care of him.” You blush at this, unable to help it, as Ellie continues. “Mom said you were friends when you were younger, how did you start going out?”

“Oh, it’s a long story,” you chuckle, leaning back into your chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. “Short version is that we met through a mutual friend at around seventeen, then were friends since then. We secretly had a huge crush on each-other but neither of us knew. Then, said friend set us up on a blind date and we went through a lot of crap until we decided to stop being idiots and date, but turns out Hyunjin actually set up the blind date the whole time.”

“Christ,” Ellie laughs, acting mind blown. “That’s something out a movie.”

“You’re telling me,” you reciprocate, joining in the laughter as you finish off your wine. You catch Hyunjin and his mum standing up as they hug, almost able to hear the crying from where you are, but you see them both smiling. You leave them to it, turning back to Ellie. “What do you think of your new brother?”

“I was kinda intimidated at first,” she says honestly. “Mom told me he was a CEO millionaire man and I was like, holy shit. But he’s actually a bit of a dork.”

“He’s a total dork,” you giggle, smiling at the man in question as he wipes his teary eyes whilst walking towards you with a grin. His mum gives you all a smile and says goodnight as she past you into the house.

“What are you two talking about,” he questions with a glare, walking over to your chair and standing beside it while he ruffles your hair, keeping his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Oh, just bitching about you,” you reply with an evil grin, which Ellie reciprocates with a laugh. “You ready for bed?”

“Yeah, if you are. It’s gotten late,” he points out, checking the time on his watch.

“Okay dokey,” you reply stupidly, standing up with Ellie before the three of you walk inside the sliding doors to the house. Ellie locks them behind you, saying goodnight when you part ways at the landing upstairs.

You spend next hour just holding Hyunjin in bed as he tells you what he was talking to his mum about. She pretty much told him everything, the nitty gritty details about why she decided to leave and how hard it was, why she couldn’t bring herself to message Hyunjin as she felt she’d let him down as a parent. It got super emotional super fast, but it was a talk they’d needed to have for a long time, and you could tell it was a huge weight off Hyunjin’s shoulders as he let it all out to you.

He fell asleep on your chest, worn out and jet lagged, your hand lightly scratching at his hair. You were utterly shattered too, but you fell asleep with a smile on your face all the same, thinking about how lucky you were to be holding to man of your dreams as he slept in your arms after such a perfect day.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE HERE!

[jimothy-hopkins]

Meddling Kids XI

WARNING! This work/series contains mentions of slut shaming, EDs, gore, implied torture, implied SA, SH, violence, and many other things that can trigger some viewers. I will also mention that this work does NOT intend to glorify, romanticize, normalize, or promote ANY of these behaviors or ideas. That is not who I am and that is not what I stand for. Please do not take that message away when you read this.

Guess who got her motivation back?

Gary lounged out on Jimmy’s bed, arms resting on either side of his head with his feet barely hanging off the bed. He sighed, turning his head to watch Jimmy, who was busy drawing something in his spare notebook.

“I’m bored,” he mentioned.

Jimmy glanced over. He thought for a moment. Jimmy had barely done anything fun in the past month or so. Sure, he’d been going on one too many misadventures. Those always wound up in some danger. Hell, they’d stumbled across an entire snuff film and what was a possible drug cartel. He still woke up in cold sweats from the intense nightmares of Alice Cuellar being brutally tortured. He felt like a criminal for just having seen it.

“Yeah, we should do something,” Jimmy replied.

“So where are we going?” Gary raised his scarred brow, rolling on his side.

“Carnival put your shoes on,” Jimmy replied as he closed his sketchbook and sat up to grab his sneakers.

“Oh, so a date? You’re so bold, Jimmy-boy,” Gary grinned as he double-knotted his doc martens.

“Shut up,” the ginger scoffed as he opened the door.

The two made their way out of the boys’ dormitory. It was already pretty late, but thanks to the start of daylight savings time, they could still see the sun. Jimmy grabbed the keys to his bike garage and opened it, choosing his fastest bike to drag out. He got on and ushered Gary to step on the back pegs before Jimmy pedaled down to the carnival.

Gary sighed, tilting his head upwards to breathe in the crisp spring air. He held Jimmy’s torso for support as they zipped through the streets. He really did need this. The last few weeks had weighed heavy on him, especially running into Daniel. The fucker acted like he didn’t even know him. What was his problem? Had Leo’s death fucked him over so bad he forgot Gary completely?

He just sighed and rested his face on Jimmy’s shoulder. He watched the gray-colored waves of Bullworth Bay sprawl across the sand, creating the illusion of a depressed beach.

That’s when Jimmy got the bright idea to speed up out of nowhere as they hit the drop to the carnival. Gary yelped as he squeezed Jimmy.

“What the fuck was that for? You almost gave me a heart attack, moron!” Gary yelled as he stepped off Jimmy’s bike pegs.

“Cause It was funny,” Jimmy grinned as he locked his bike up.

Gary rolled his eyes as he and Jimmy approached the gate, paying their admission tickets to walk in.

Of course, the first thing they did was go to the thriller rides. Those roller coasters whipped and spun around so fast and so hard that Jimmy wondered how they didn’t get whiplash. The carnival had many new additions this year regarding rides and attractions. It was a lot more fun than riding the same three rides every single time. So far, Gary and Jimmy had ridden the Twist-A-Whirl, the Freak Out, Ring Of Fire, the Yo-yo, and Silver Bullet. Surprisingly Gary had only gagged up once during their little adventure, much to Jimmy’s relief. He’d never forget how Gary puked on him on the roller coaster last October. Yuck.

“Can we do something else now?” Gary asked as they walked around aimlessly.

“Wanna play a carnival game?” Jimmy asked.

“Sure, I bet I can win more prizes,” Gary smirked, running off to the nearest game booth he saw.

Jimmy shook his head, bounding after his scraggly friend to go kick his ass in some silly carnival games.

They went through a few silly games like ring tosses, darts, pellet rifles, the dunk game, and the strength test.

Their final game was going to be a little water gun game. So far, they’d been evenly matched in price winning. Jimmy won two little keychains, and Gary scored a dumb squeaky horn purely meant to annoy everyone within their vicinity, along with a giant snake stuffed animal.

They sat, paying their money as other people sat to also play a round. Gary licked his lips and teeth, hoping to break their tie and give Jimmy some embarrassing gift. Unfortunately, Jimmy also had the same mindset ahead of him.

As soon as the bell rang, they lined their water guns and started to fill the tank to raise the hung stuffed animals. Gary’s hands trembled, sending his aim off. Just like that, the water cut off, and Jimmy won.

“Congrats, kid! Pick your prize!” The elderly carny smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll take that My Little Pony stuffed animal,” Jimmy shrugged.

The carny gave an odd look but used one of his hooks to grab the pony off the rack and handed it to Jimmy. “Have fun, kid.”

Jimmy nodded and turned to Gary, handing him the plush. He always found those ponies creepy.

“Seriously?” Gary grimaced.

“Take it or leave it,” Jimmy rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, moron, how about the Ferris wheel?” Gary asked, tucking the bedazzled pony under his arm.

Jimmy shrugged, so Gary could only take it as a yes. The pair walked to the slow-moving attraction and coughed up the cash required before stepping into a capsule. They sat adjacent, looking at the horizon as the ride began to move.

“I hope we don’t get stuck at the top,” Jimmy looked down.

“Why? Scared of heights, James?” Gary teased.

“Shut up.”

Gary moved closer, now right beside Jimmy. He quickly began to nudge and push him. Jimmy glanced over,

“What are you poking me for? You’re rocking the cart dickwad!” Jimmy said, slapping Gary’s arms away.

“So what?” The scar-faced boy laughed.

Their miniature slap fight continued, and small chuckles and playful insults were exchanged.

A sudden impulse took over, and Gary grabbed his face and went in for a kiss.

Now Gary had never kissed anyone before, not even his own mother. He hated almost all types of physical affection, yet Gary chose to go in for a kiss.

Jimmy flinched in surprise but quickly caught on and pulled Gary in. The kiss was brief, but it held passion. More passion than it should’ve. So when Gary realized what he was doing, he pulled himself off of Jimmy and sat at a distance.

“Wow,” was Jimmy’s only response.

He hadn’t even realized they were at the apex of the wheel. The sun was now fully set. The whimsical lights danced and provided a colorful display around them. Gary looked away, taking a moment to process his actions and catch his breath. He felt like he was living in a teenage dream or nightmare.

Not another was exchanged between them when the ride descended. What was there to talk about? Gary wanted to punch himself. He was letting this new kid get too close. They’d made a friendship over the trauma they went through in the past three months. Dr. Bambillo would flip his shit if he knew.

They walked side by side, exchanging silent glances over the loud whirring of rides and screams of people.

“Hey Jimmy! Over here!” A voice called.

Gary looked over his shoulder.

It was Donald Anderson dressed up like the circus puked on him. He was standing at the front of an attraction with the word ‘Headspin’ written above it. Purple and red lights flickered sporadically, making it appear like a sick fever dream.

“Wanna try our new haunted house? The nerds and theatre kids are all working on it!” He explained in a psyched-up manner.

“Sure, don’t see why not,” Jimmy shrugged, walking through with Gary behind him.

Most of the scares weren’t really eventful. If anything, Jimmy just said hello, since most of them were their peers. Gary didn’t take much interest in the attraction either. He did hold his stuffed pony a few times, though.

They turned down a darker hall that led them to a hall of mirrors. Gary and Jimmy shuffled around, occasionally bumping into their reflections and swearing.

Gary looked over his shoulder, catching movement in the darkness of his peripheral.

“What was that?” He asked out loud.

“What was what?” Jimmy replied.

“I saw something.”

“Yourself?”

“No, someone else.”

Gary whipped around, the color draining from his face. Behind Gary was a tall man dressed in a sick imitation of John Wayne Gacy’s Pogo the Clown. The clown held a bat wrapped in barbed wire and covered in what Gary hoped was fake blood.

Jimmy didn‘t even think twice before grabbing Gary and running in the opposite direction. They could hear the heavy footsteps tailing them with the most bone-chilling laughter echoing down the hall of mirrors.

They escaped the mirror hall and dodged behind a doorway into another room. Gary held his hand over his mouth to calm his breathing. He looked over to Jimmy, whose hands clutched the splintered rotten wood of the wall. Gary didn’t think he was capable of expressing that amount of terror.

His head snapped over, hearing the slight pang of metal on metal. Gary’s gut dropped, watching as another clown in the likeness of Pennywise approached with a machete.

“FUCKING GO, MORON!” He yelled, shoving jimmy out of the doorway.

They screamed, begging for help as they dodged obstructions in their path and dove through the cluttered, run-down rooms of the house. Gary kicked a foldable table out of his way, finding furniture stacked against an exit door.

“Come and help me, moron!” Gary demanded as Jimmy quickly came to aid him in deconstructing the barricade.

Quickly, they managed to shove the door open and run out, escaping to the bright area of the carnival. Gary shuddered as he tailed Jimmy, heart beating out of his chest. That haunted house was no joke.

Jimmy scanned the area, finding Donald once more. He walked up to the nerd and snatched him by his collar, holding him in a vice grip.

“What the hell, man? You need to get those clown guys in check!” He yelled.

Donald blinked, dumbfounded.

“Jimmy, we don’t have clowns.”

[erommorg]

Pierce the veil concert tickets

PIERCE THE VEIL CONCERT TICKETS CRACK

The returning Pierce The Veil will be “debuting some new material” and “playing some old songs that we can all sing together at the top of our lungs” in December.Ĭollide with the Sky is the third full-length studio album from American post-hardcore band Pierce the Veil, released on July 17, 2012. Pierce The Veil announce first UK tour in six years Pierce the Veil Announce December 2022 UK Tourīeloved San Diego band Pierce the Veil will make their long-awaited return to the road later this year. The band has announced a run of UK dates, taking place this December. I met an amazing a guy, got water poured over me by a security guard,I had to fight for a water bottle and I got confetti in places confetti shouldn’t be.Pierce The Veil, I Prevail, The Story So Far, Dance Gavin Dance, The All American Rejects, Boys Like Girls, Car Seat Headrest, Sleeping With Sirens, Knocked Loose, JXDN, Avril Lavigne, Motionless. The song hits close to home with me and I was telling myself not to cry and I didn’t until the bridge of the song was played where everything went silent and it was just vic singing ‘if I Where you I’d put that away see you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again, darling you’ll be okay…’ and that set off the waterworks. She would sit there for hours and no one not even her parents would notice she was missing. Now the song was written about vics (lead vocalist) friend who sadly killed her self, it’s about her story and how she’d sit up up in a tree in her back yard to see if anyone would notice she was missing.

PIERCE THE VEIL CONCERT TICKETS CRACK

Then they decided to crack out the tear jerking song that is hold onto may. Pierce the veil played a bunch of new and old songs including my favourites Floral and Fading and bulletproof love. And to just see the band that’s helped me out of my dark times stood metres away was overwhelming. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever gone to a concert especially to a concert of an artists you admire a lot, you get this feeling of realisation when the artists come out onto the stage and you’re stold their awe stricken with realisation of they’re right in front of me dawning over you. Then the whole crowd started chanting “f*ck Donald trump!”įinally the main act came on, pierce the veil. The lead singer gave this amazing speech about feminism and treating woman right, he also gave a speech about Donald trump and how they do not agree with building walls and racist behaviour. Although I didn’t know any of their songs they Where such a good band live and they had amazing stage prescence. Then the next support acts, the one that confused me the most was let live. The first support act came one which was a band called the creepers, I only knew one song of theirs but they where pretty Fucking good. We some how, despite being right at the back of the line got to the barrier at the left side of the stage. We stood in line for an hour and half before finally going into the venue which was smaller then I thought, the capacity was 2,600 people and there was only a tiny seating area. We luckily saw the car pull round the corner so we got Esme to run after it and we finally got the tickets. Now the car could be anywhere and we didn’t have our tickets so we where in this unknown city on our own with no clue what to do. The traffic in Manchester City was so busy once we where near Manchester university we just jumped out of the car in the middle of the busy road as just started walking to the university, we where nearly there when we realised, we left the tickets in the car. We left at 2 in the afternoon and the whole car journey,which normally takes 2 hours, was spent in heavy traffic and us all gawking at this beautiful Nissan GT-R. Hey, so last night me and my two best friends, Esme and Amy, went to Manchester to see one of our favourite bands live, Pierce the

[feeder86]

Billy’s Bad Boy

“Good morning, Rob. The usual?” Billy asked with a smile, as his favourite customer waddled in: a giant, 450lb burly and handsome guy in his mid fifties, with a particular love of all Billy’s tasty treats.

“Yes please!” the greedy guy grinned, swallowing back saliva as he glanced at everything on offer. 

If Rob had been gay and twenty years younger, Billy would have been after him for sure. The guy was so friendly and charismatic; supporting Billy as he worked his way up from owning a little mobile take-out truck, to the large premises he now inhabited in the middle of town. It hadn’t been easy to get the business up and running, but there was clearly a gap in the market for tasty snacks in this town, and Billy was sure going to fill it. 

“Are you working out in this hot sun today, Rob?” Billy asked as he plated up Rob’s usual selection of cream-filled donuts. “You’d best have another one of these - on the house,” he winked flirtatiously at him as he put out another donut on the man’s loaded tray of food. “You’re going to need your energy!”

Rob smiled back, always enjoying the way Billy playfully flirted with him, despite Rob being happily married for thirty years. “You know, my pants don’t quite fit like they used to since I started coming here every day,” the big man joked, rubbing his large, deliciously rounded gut.

“Good! That’s exactly what I like to hear!” Billy nodded back. “You can buy new pants, but you can’t get donuts like mine anywhere else!”

Rob chuckled and mumbled in agreement. “Quite right,” he replied, handing over his card to pay.

“YOU NEED TO KEEP CONTROL OF THAT BOY OF YOURS, ROB PARRY!” shouted a sudden angry voice. “How can you live with yourselves? You need to put him on a fucking leash! He’s an animal! My husband’s car is a fucking wreck because of him!”

Billy turned and looked frantically at Fran, stood behind him, pointing an angry finger at Rob. “Fran!” he shouted, mortified that one of his employees was screaming at a customer. “Get back in the kitchen area, now!” he ordered.

Fran exchanged a few more bitter words at the man before she finally followed her instruction and slid back into the kitchen, every bit as angry as she had been when she burst out. 

“I’m so sorry about that, Rob. I’ll be having a word with Fran. There’s no charge today,” he offered apologetically, handing back the payment card. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Rob countered, passing back his card to be charged. “My son’s been in trouble with the police again. I know he has a lot to answer for around here. He’s slowly becoming ‘Public Enemy Number One.’ Smashing up that car the other day is the least of it. Trust me, I’ve heard a lot worse than what Fran had to say in the last couple of years. I just don’t know what to do with him. I’m at the end of my tether.”

“Who is your son?” Billy asked, wondering why this was the first he’d heard about the renegade offspring. After all, Rob had been coming for donuts from him for a couple of years by now.

“Jensen Parry,” Rob sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard the name about town before.”

“Jensen is your son?” Billy asked, hardly believing it. He certainly knew the name. Jensen had earned a somewhat notorious reputation for troublemaking, fighting and joyriding. Billy had been in the year below him in high school, before Jensen had been expelled in his final year, without graduating. There really was nothing about him that seemed in any way connected to Rob. Jensen was a smart-mouthed, arrogant jerk who worked his way from one bed to another with his pretty face and large-framed, overly muscular body; the bad boy that girls knew they should avoid, but never could; even if it was obvious to everyone that he was holding a one-way ticket to prison through all his wild antics.

“He’s not a bad lad,” Rob sighed. “He’s just a little lost. He hangs out with a rough crowd; guys he knows through his gym. But he’s always been easily led and he thinks his ridiculous behaviour is incredibly hilarious. I was exactly the same when I was younger; before I met my wife. I fell in love with her cooking and that was it for me!” he joked with a forced smile, whilst patting his oversized belly. “That’s all my Jensen needs; someone to love and calm him down a bit, in the same way my wife did with me.”

Billy nodded sympathetically at Rob. He couldn’t imagine how much stress it must have caused being the father of Jensen Parry. Despite Rob’s optimism, Billy was inclined to share the opinion of the rest of the town: Jensen was a lost cause.

A few weeks later, Billy was enjoying the opening night of the brand new bar across the street from his store. As a local entrepreneur, he was often invited along to events such as these, and he was more than happy to support local businesses where he could. The bar looked great, although the selection of alcohol on offer was perhaps a little mismatched with the clientele here in town.

“Jensen Parry has just barged his way in,” fretted the girl behind the bar, looking over Billy’s shoulder. “That’s the last thing we need on our opening night! I knew we should have hired someone on the door. He’s going to ruin everything!”

Billy looked back and saw the man they were so worried about, sneering as he looked around, knowing that he wasn’t invited. “Leave him to me,” Billy sighed after downing the last of his beer and standing up. Perhaps something was missing in Billy’s brain, but guys like Jensen didn’t intimidate him like they did most people. His parents had never been much use to him and so he’d learned the fine arts of charm and tact could get him a lot further in life than anything else could. It was how he had survived high school completely unscathed by guys like Jensen, and the reason why so many people came into his store on a regular basis. “Jensen! Hey, buddy!” he called out with his hand outstretched and ready to shake. “Long time, no see!”

“Do I know you?” Jensen asked; a little caught off guard by Billy’s friendliness; seemingly insulted by it perhaps.

“I was in the year below you in high school. But, trust me, buddy, everyone knew who you were!” he chuckled, patting Jensen on his broad back, as if congratulating him on a job well done. “You know, I was telling a friend of mine about the cafeteria stunt you pulled back in the day. She thought I was making it up! She didn’t believe a word of it!”

Jensen’s smirk was full of nostalgia and his suspicion of Billy seemed to be dissipating.

“Care for drink?” Billy asked. “I’d love to know how you did it.”

Jensen looked around, as if searching for a better offer, and finding none. “Sure. Why not?” he nodded, starting to head to the bar when Billy politely stopped him.

“Not here,” Billy whispered. “Shitty, overpriced cocktails are not really my thing. Let’s go somewhere we can get a proper beer.”

Clearly already a little intoxicated, Jensen nodded and started to leave the building, fine to go wherever in order to get a free drink. Billy looked back to see the girl behind the counter mouthing ‘thank you’ to him across the room; clasping her hands as if she had been praying.

Billy’s satisfaction at having lured Jensen out of the bar was soon spoiled by the fact that the security standing outside the next bar simply raised their hands and barred Jensen from entering. “You know you’re not allowed in here,” they explained gruffly. “Beat it!” 

Jensen hurled back a barrage of expletives and on they walked to the next place, where, unfortunately, the same thing happened once again. Billy cringed to be seen with such a loud and openly aggressive guy; no less than two hundred and twenty pounds of giant muscle and taller than any of the security folks. More than once he thought Jensen might start using his fists to get what he wanted. But, even so, Billy still wanted to play his part and keep Jensen from going back to the cocktail bar and spoiling their opening night.

“I know somewhere we can go,” Billy stated, forcing a smile onto his face. He led Jensen back along the street to the front of his store and opened the door. 

“This is your place?” Jensen asked, obviously surprised. 

“It sure is,” Billy nodded. “Take a seat.”

“My dad talks about this place all the time,” Jensen mumbled, taking his seat as instructed. “I think your donuts are the reason why he’s so fucking fat!” he laughed.

“I know your dad,” Billy smiled, heading into the back for a couple of beers. “He’s a funny guy. And as much as I would love to take credit for how big your dad is, I’m pretty sure he was already enormous, even before he started coming in here every day!”

Jensen accepted his beer and chuckled back. “Yeah, dad’s always had a sweet tooth!” There was a warmth in his eyes, as if he truly did love and admire his dad, despite everything he was putting him through. “Mom overfeeds him. He’s like one of those fat, spoiled house cats to her!”

“Well, thanks in part to your dad’s sweet tooth, this place is turning into a little goldmine,” Billy joked, clinking his beer bottle with Jensen’s as if making a toast. “I’m looking into opening another store a few miles away. Then I’ll be able to fatten up a whole load of other folks, just like your dad!” he chuckled.

Jensen seemed a little restless and he was taking his beer down in long, gulping strides. Before Billy would know it, he’d be finished and out that door; back harassing the rest of the town in no time at all.

“You want to try some of the stuff I sell?” Billy asked, trying to hide his desperation to keep Jensen where he was. He didn’t wait for a response before he got up and headed to the kitchen area. “These are the ones your dad likes best,” he explained, returning at lightning speed, holding a plateful of donuts. 

Jensen reached and took one, stuffing it into his mouth in the same way his father did. It was the first similarity between the pair of them that Billy had ever noticed. “So, how many calories are in these things?” Jensen asked suspiciously, taking his second helping.

Billy laughed to himself. “Oh… these things are absolutely PACKED full of calories!” he replied wickedly. “How else do you think I get them to taste so good? Just, keep it to yourself… I don’t want folks getting put off coming here! If they all gain a few pounds, that’s just too bad!” he teased.

“So you really weren’t kidding when you said you were fattening everyone up around here,” Jensen nodded with strange approval. Undeterred, he picked up the next donut and fed it into his mouth. Now that Billy was looking properly, the similarities between Jensen and his father really were quite striking.

Despite everything, Billy found that he had quite enjoyed his conversation with Jensen that night. After discussing school days, the conversation had turned to Jensen’s dad, since that was the only other connection they shared. It really seemed to Billy that Jensen looked up to his father in ways that most people wouldn’t be able to identify. And for that, Billy found that he actually quite liked the town’s ‘bad boy’ after all.

“How did Jensen’s court case go?” Billy asked a couple of months later as Rob came in for his morning coffee and donut.

“A suspended sentence with community service,” Rob sighed with relief. “We’re all so relieved the judge went so easy on him. Now he’s just got to keep his nose clean for two years,” he grumbled pessimistically.

“That’s excellent news!” Billy beamed, surprising himself with how much better he felt, knowing that Jensen wasn’t sitting in a prison cell right now.

“You’ve been a great help these last few weeks, you know,” Rob went on, looking with the utmost sincerity into Billy’s eyes. “He likes coming in here and having a chat with you. You’re one of the few people in town who actually bothers with him. It’s what he needs, you know; a level-headed friend. Not one of those stupid gym buddies of his. A bunch of jerks, every one of them!”

“Jensen’s a nice guy,” Billy nodded. “Sure, he’s made mistakes. But who hasn’t?”

“I’m glad you think so,” Rob smiled, looking around to see if anyone else was listening in. “Because I think you might be the key to keeping him out of trouble for the next few months.” With that, he reached into his deep pocket and brought out a thick wad of rolled up notes, passing them to Billy.

“Rob? What the hell is this?” Billy gasped, wanting to pass it back immediately.

“I know you give him free donuts and coffees when he comes in. You don’t have to do that and you shouldn’t be out of pocket because of it.”

“Well… that’s just… me being nice,” Billy mumbled. “But this is…” His eyes boggled at how much cash was in his hand still. “Rob, there’s no way he’s eaten enough for this amount of money.”

“No, I know that,” Rob admitted. “But the more time he’s in here with you, the less time he has out there, getting himself into trouble with the scum that he hangs around with.”

Billy tried to protest, but Rob was having none of it. And, not wanting to argue with his favourite customer, Billy eventually slipped the bundle of notes into his pocket with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Rob really was counting on him to help keep Jensen on the straight and narrow. However, that was probably going to take a lot more than just a few donuts and coffees.

“If I get this job, I’ll be able to start paying you back for all these snacks and coffees you give me,” Jensen smiled as he bit into his third donut of the day.

“If you get that job, you’re going to start paying back your mom for trashing her car first!” Billy laughed. “I love that you thought about giving me something, but these donuts cost almost nothing to make. You don’t need to feel guilty about having a few lousy treats.” 

The guilt of having so much money handed to him still weighed heavily on Billy’s mind. Two or three donuts a day didn’t seem enough to cover it all and he found himself upping his game on a daily basis; an extra coffee here, a milkshake there, with more added whipped cream,. But just the fact that Jensen was talking about the idea of holding down a steady job was such a huge step for him. Before, he had crashed from one employment to another, exhausting his dad’s many contacts within the construction industry until he was no longer welcome anywhere.

“How’re things going with that second store you wanted to open?” Jensen asked. “You’ll have a whole new town to fatten up with your treats soon!”

Billy smirked. He’d only been joking when he’d said that he was fattening up the neighbourhood, but Jensen had seemed to hang onto that idea as if Billy really was that wicked. Then again, perhaps he was, Billy chuckled to himself. “I’m still looking for the right premises,” he explained. “So, for now, I’m just going to focus on fattening up everyone in this town first,” he winked.

“That’s fine by me!” Jensen nodded. “One of the guys my dad works with says he’s gained thirty pounds since you opened up here.”

“Which one is that?” Billy asked, trying to think of the many construction guys he’d seen with Jensen’s dad.

“Steve. The younger one with short brown hair.”

“Oh, yes! I know who you mean,” Billy laughed to himself. “Yeah, that one is getting proper little man boobs and everything! He clearly doesn’t work out in a gym like you do and I get the impression that he’s fairly lazy in work; so of course it’s going to stick. But he orders the orange cream donuts and they really are VERY fattening indeed! Plus, I may occasionally slip him a couple of free ones, which partly explains why his ass has got a bit of width to it recently,” he joked. “I’m sure his wife wouldn't thank me!”

“The orange cream one? I don’t think I’ve ever tried that,” Jensen pondered cheekily.

“Coming right up!” Billy smiled with delight, pleased to offload as much as he could to relieve his conscience for all the money he had taken off Rob.

The more Billy’s business brain thought about the town, the more he realised that there were loads of opportunities for extending his menu with things that you couldn’t really get anywhere else: waffles, local ice creams, pancakes. There were so many ways he could expand his operation. He spoke at length about the ideas to Jensen who really was nothing if not encouraging.

“Are you still seeing that Bethany girl behind your friend’s back?” Billy asked disapprovingly. “You know it’s only going to cause a whole load of shit when he finds out?”

“She’s the one who always comes on to me!” Jensen smirked indignantly, thinking himself blameless. “Like I’m going to say no to a free blowjob?”

“She’s bad news!” Billy cautioned. “When it all comes out, there’s going to be a massive fight and her boyfriend is going to do his best to make you break your probation and have you sent off to prison. You know none of those guys from the gym really care about you. Is a quick fuck with Bethany really worth going to prison for?”

“You really don’t like my gym friends, do you?” Jensen laughed.

“Not one bit,” Billy replied honestly. “If I had one wish, it would be for you to walk away from those jerks down at the gym and never look back. It would be the best move you could ever make.”

Jensen sat back a little in his chair, raising his eyebrows at the idea of giving up his whole social group. “You really do give a fuck about me, don’t you?” he asked, a little thrown by how the conversation had turned.

“You know I do,” Billy nodded sincerely. “I just want the best for you.”

A small, playful grin came to Jensen’s face and he sat up again, as if he had had the most marvellous idea. “Tell me to quit the gym and I’ll do it,” he stated with a sudden rush of enthusiasm.

“Just like that?” Billy laughed sceptically.

“Yeah. Just like that!” Jensen nodded. “Go on. Tell me to quit!” he insisted, as if daring or seducing Billy in some way.

“Quit the gym then,” Billy relented. “Cut up your membership card and never see those meat heat buddies of yours again.”

Jensen sat back, looking pleased with himself. “Your wish… is my command!”

With the introduction of Billy’s new expanded menu over the coming weeks, Billy found he was playing host to Jensen more than ever before. It seemed, rather remarkably, that Jensen had been true to his word. He’d not been down to see his old friends at the gym once and there hadn’t been a single complaint about him in town.

“Whatever you’re doing, just keep on doing it,” Jensen’s father smiled, passing over far too much cash for his impromptu evening visit and spotting his son in the corner; his back turned and watching videos on his cell phone while nibbling on things that Billy had brought over.

“Rob, not that I don’t love having Jensen here, but is there anything you could do to help him find some work? He just sort of hangs around all day and I’m a bit worried that all this food is…” He looked across at Jensen just as he scratched his side, lifting his shirt and giving a glimpse of a fleshy, budding love handle.

“People won’t hire him because of how much he’s dicked around in his jobs in the past. It’s his own fault,” Rob grumbled unsympathetically. “And if you’re worried that he’s getting a little chubby - good! Just let him. His mother and I have no intentions of becoming grandparents anytime soon, so the fewer chances he has to get some crazy girl pregnant, the better!”

“But…” Billy tried, looking over again as Jensen started a fresh plate of food, biting in with as much gusto as his father.

Rob went back into his wallet and pulled out a few more notes of cash, stuffing them into Billy’s shirt pocket. “Trust me,” he whispered. “Just let this play out…”

Jensen’s body was changing. It was obvious to anyone that the guy had done steroids in the past to get his body so packed with muscle, but now that his gym had been taken away from him, he seemed to be softening up with quite remarkable speed. Billy had noticed the little love handles starting to sprout and the way his pecs were beginning to look ‘full’ rather than pumped. But there was also the slight puffiness to his face and the softening of his jawline and buttocks to think about too.

“How was that? Do you think it would work on the regular menu?”  Billy asked as he picked up Jensen’s plate.

“Very nice!” Jensen beamed. “I think it worked really well. Maybe just add a little more cream at the side though.”

“More cream?” Billy asked in surprise. Jensen really had inherited his father’s sweet tooth. “Okay, good suggestion,” he nodded unconvinced. “Do you want to try something a little more savoury now?”

“I’d love to,” Jensen nodded, going straight back to playing a game on his phone.

“He’s getting fat, that one,” Fran grumbled as she looked over at Billy bringing back Jensen’s plate. “Look at him! Sat there all day on his cell phone, stuffing his face. It couldn’t happen to a nicer person!” she sneered sarcastically. Billy could tell from her tone that she still couldn’t bear the sight of him, much like the rest of the town. “He’s going to end up just like his idiot father in no time.”

Billy tried to breathe a little deeper and calm himself down. He’d always loved chubby guys and hearing Fran comment on Jensen’s changing appearance, like she was doing, only seemed to be arousing a strange desire within him. “Bacon and cheese waffle for table eight, please” he ordered simply.

Fran looked straight over to Jensen again, sat on table eight. “Fuck me! Not more food? Hasn’t he got somewhere else to be?”

“Bacon and cheese waffle for table eight,” Billy repeated, not wanting to engage in any sort of conversation with her right then.

“Fine!” Fran grumbled, knowing that she and her boss would never agree when it came to Jensen. “I’ll feed the fatso!” she complained, starting to walk back to the kitchen area. “I’ll pile it up with that really greasy cheese; see how the pig likes that!”

Billy closed his eyes and took a second to breathe behind the counter. He was supposed to be helping Jensen turn his life around,and yet, his boner for him seemed impossible to quash of late. The guilt of taking money from Jensen’s dad and now these feelings of arousal; Billy started to feel like the most morally corrupt person on the planet. His eyes popped open as he heard Jensen’s chair scrape along the floor and he watched as the town’s bad boy took himself off to the bathroom; leading with a stout little paunch and displaying his wider, overly padded rear as the door closed behind him. He didn’t know where all this was going, but he suddenly felt like he had lost control of it entirely.

“How would you like a job in the kitchen of my new store?” Billy asked triumphantly. It was the perfect solution. Jensen needed a job, Billy wanted to help him, and it was the best way to keep the guy busy all day without overloading him on fat and calories. Getting him out of town was also bound to help the guy find himself again; away from the scornful faces and shady characters he had mixed with in the past.

“Seriously?” Jensen asked; his face lighting up. “You want to give me a job?”

“It’s yours if you want it?” Billy smiled.

“Yes! Absolutely!” Jensen beamed, suddenly getting up and enveloping Billy in a massive hug that quietly made Billy flush bright red with unwanted lust.

“It’s in Clinton though. You think you could make it there for your shifts? I know you’re not allowed to drive for quite a while still.”

“I’ll get the bus. And I’m sure my dad will help me out every now and then.” He was beaming from ear to ear and pulled Billy in for yet another hug. “I’m so glad I met you!” he smiled, never using his gruffer, defensive tone around Billy anymore.

“Well, I’m very glad I met you too,” Billy nodded, not making eye contact and looking for a way to retreat back to the kitchen before his erection pressed too firmly against his pants.

There was one major flaw in Billy’s plan. Outraged by the idea of Jensen working in the new store, Fran declared that she would have nothing to do with training him up to work in the kitchen. If Billy was going to put everything he’d worked so hard for at risk, she wasn’t going to be a part of it. And so, in the hours after the store closed, Billy had no choice but to invite Jensen in to show him how to prepare all of the deliciously fattening treats he had gorged on for the last few months. But if Billy had found himself aroused by Jensen as he simply sat down at the table to be served, having to stand beside him and see him from all those different angles was even more of a challenge. Perhaps it was because Billy knew Jensen’s father’s shape so well, he could see how Jensen’s body was swelling in an all too similar fashion. The extreme height, the awkward way his pants were starting to fit across his broad butt which had always been so tight and athletic looking up until a few months ago. Under his broad chest, it was undeniable that a firm-looking, rounded pot belly was beginning to push its way out, just like it must have done all those years ago on his father, before that monstrous ball gut had finally taken hold of him.

Jensen was a good student, listening carefully and taking it all in as Billy demonstrated some of the dishes. He completed one and Jensen would greedily offer to consume it while watching the next. Even the sound of his chewing and swallowing was getting to Billy as he tried his hardest to stay focused. Jensen had always been a large man, but it was so incredibly arousing to know that with each bite, the greedy boy was just going to get bigger… and bigger.

“Jensen is really excited about his new job,” Rob smiled the next day as he came in to order even more snacks than usual for all the guys working on a job not too far away. Billy knew that such a spending spree was the guy’s way of showing his appreciation.

“I think he’ll be great at it,” Billy replied. “And, hopefully it will get him up on his feet a little more than he has been recently.”

“Yeah, he’s starting to take after his old man!” Rob chuckled, rubbing his enormous gut as if he was proud of it.

“Well, maybe just a little bit,” Billy conceded, wondering why even this conversation was getting him aroused.

“His mom is worried about how fast he’s piling on the pounds, but I say leave him to it. I remember how exciting it was for me, back in the day, getting a belly for the first time. Jensen is just the same, I’m absolutely positive.”

“Exciting?” Billy asked, captivated by Rob’s use of the word.

“Oh, absolutely!” Rob nodded, passing over his payment card. “I think we’re just wired differently in our family. My father was the same, my two brothers, a few of Jensen’s cousins, his older brother. Let’s just say, he’s been around a lot of extremely fat guys his entire life.It’s not hard to feel a little envious at times.”

Billy had always wondered about his strange fascination in watching his customers slowly pile on a few pounds. He’d made a joke of it to Jensen more than once. But was it possible that someone could appreciate it from the other perspective as well. Was Jensen’s father right? Was gaining weight something that Jensen actively… enjoyed? 

Watching from a distance, Billy studied Jensen keenly in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself to in the past. He’d never noticed how often the guy’s hand reached down to rub his little tummy, or the way his face only seemed to get more and more excited with each item he ate. It also appeared, judging by the heavy sighing and strained pauses that came later on, that Jensen was in some way forcing himself to eat; as if the act of eating was no longer about the enjoyment of the taste, but a task that had to be completed at all costs.

“It looks like we’ve already got a good bunch of regulars,” Billy smiled after their first two weeks in the new store. “I think we’re a hit!” he declared, looking at the sales for the week whilst Jensen boxed up the last few items left over from the day. “Take those home with you,” Billy pointed at the leftover raspberry cream donuts which had not sold well all week. “They obviously don’t like them so much here. I’m taking them off the menu.”

Jensen’s piggish eyes lit up and he immediately grabbed one to take a large bite, nodding his head in appreciation, like he hadn’t eaten all day long. In truth, Billy had allowed him to consume as much as he wanted all day long; remembering the additional large bundle of notes the guy’s father had given him not so long ago. He’d ordered Jensen an extra-large work shirt with the company logo on, but already it was looking overly stretched across the almost constantly bloated stomach.

“Did you notice that blonde girl came in twice today? You know, the one I said was checking you out yesterday,” Billy teased playfully. She;d seemed like a nice girl: pleasant, well spoken and together; exactly the sort of girl Jensen needed. “I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

Jensen shook his head. “No chance!” he chuckled between bites. “I have other priorities at the moment.” With that, he pushed the remainder of his donut into his mouth and prepared the next one ready, while his other hand gently rubbed his stomach, as if soothing it. 

“Oh yeah?” Billy asked curiously. “And what priorities are these?”

There were a few moments of quiet as Jensen chewed and swallowed the oversized piece that he had put into his mouth. “I’m just focusing on improving myself at the moment,” he answered.

“Does that include giving yourself a sixty-five inch gut like your dad?” Billy asked, his eyes popping open with shock the second the words left his mouth. For the briefest moment, his tongue had simply run away with itself.

Jensen simply smirked and looked across at Billy as if he was impressed by the comment. “What do you expect when your boss insists that you eat the leftovers every night after work?”

“I hardly insisted…” Billy chuckled, enjoying the playful way he and Jensen had become accustomed to speaking to each other.

“You just told me to finish all the donuts or I’m fired!” Jensen teased, pushing the next one, almost whole, into his mouth.

“You’re ridiculous!” Billy laughed, watching the guy’s puffed up and bulging cheeks and he tried to chew the massive quantity of donut. “All right then!” he chuckled. “If that’s how you want to play it… those chocolate brownies need to go as well tonight. Eat them up, or you’re fired,” he joked.

Jensen grabbed the leftovers as well as the large carton of whole milk they had been using that day, taking a long long swig to stop his mouth from getting dry. Then he burped, loud and long, like a man more than double his size. “No worries, boss!” he declared; enjoying their game. “I’ll have them all cleared away within the next five minutes!”

Over the coming weeks, Billy found that he had never threatened to fire an employee more than he had with Billy. It was their own private code; their way of playing. Billy would come over at the end of the shift to help close up and then he’d watch as Jensen stuffed himself as if his job really did depend on it. But the results of their little game? Well, those were truly the best part of all. Billy’s butt had ballooned out, along with his thighs, and he often arrived to work looking a little underdressed in sweatpants that were more accommodating to his developing shape. Some might have said he was less striking without that strong jawline, but Billy simply adored the way his employee was getting such a double chin and puffier, rounder cheeks on his face. The outrageous muscular definition gained from years at the gym had slowly been masked by a creeping layer of fat, settling all over Jensen’s body. As that layer thickened, it was increasingly difficult to tell that the guy had ever been anything but doughy. Billy could see the blubber ripple in his love handles as he trotted about, and the depth of Jensen’s belly button was a constant presence, visible through the way his undersized and poorly shaped shirts fitted across his torso.

“How would you feel about staying in the little apartment above the store here?” Billy asked the large, remarkably altered man that stood before him a few months later. “It would save you having to get a bus here, or dragging your dad out to pick you up. You’d be doing me a favour, having someone here at night. I wouldn’t charge you.”

“Seriously?” Jensen asked in disbelief. “You’d just let me just have it?”

“Sure,” Billy smiled, finding a true joy came to him whenever he spoiled Jensen in any way that he could. “I think it would be good for you.”

“My own place…” Jensen murmured, picturing it in his head. It had been just over eighteen months since he’d been on the edge of going to prison, and now here he was, holding down a steady job and about to have his own place. “You are like my guardian angel,” he smiled.

“I’m glad you think so,” Billy chuckled, feeling suddenly embarrassed by Jensen’s sincerity. “Now, there are a load of cream cakes over there that I can’t refrigerate tonight. Get them down… or you’re fired,” he teased.

 “We’re not used to seeing you in our store these days,” Rob smiled a few weeks later, surprised to witness Billy behind the counter and not in his new store with Jensen. “I’m used to the ever delightful Fran serving me these days, and she’s not so generous with the freebies,” he whispered so that the grumpy woman wouldn’t hear him.

“Oh, well, we’ll have to sort that out!” Billy beamed, already thinking what he should give to Jensen’s oversized father. “Are you enjoying the peace and quiet now that Jensen’s moved out?”

“Very much so!” Rob nodded; his piggy eyes watching keenly as Billy picked out his complimentary offerings. “Joyce and I finally have the house to ourselves again for the first time in thirty years! It’s like we’re newlyweds again! She’s giving me all her attention like she never could once the boys were born. I’ve gained twenty-five pounds in two months!” he laughed at himself, patting his enormous gut.

“Lucky you!” Billy grinned, deciding to give the man two free extra helpings instead. “I’m sure you’re having the time of your life.”

“After all Jensen’s put us through over the years, I never thought we’d get to this point where we could just sit back and relax like this. And I know Jensen is having just as much fun being away from us.”

Billy smiled and couldn’t help but agree with Rob. Judging by how round Jensen’s stomach had been getting in the last couple of weeks, Jensen was enjoying himself immensely.

It was gone midnight when the alert came on to Billy’s cell phone. Something had tripped the alarm in Jensen’s store and a message had automatically been sent to him. He got up and tried to call his live-in tenant to investigate whether it was the system playing up again, but when there was no answer and Billy knew he’d have to drive over to see for himself.

Pulling up, Billy could see the lights still on in Jensen’s apartment and he tutted to himself that the guy hadn’t answered his phone and saved Billy the trouble of having to come over here so late at night. The shutters were down on the store and there was no obvious sign that anyone had broken in, so Billy simply rolled up the shutters and opened the door to head in and reset the system. He punched in a couple of numbers and the software was reset. The clunky old thing needed changing if it was going to keep playing up like this, Billy grumbled to himself. But as Billy looked around, he saw that the door to the hallway leading upstairs, the one that was usually locked, had been left open, triggering the alarm. Had Jensen come down and carelessly set off the alarm himself?

“Jensen?” Billy called up the stairs, seeing that the lights were on and, as he got closer, the door to the apartment upstairs was wide open. “Is everything all right?”

Billy hadn’t been up here since he’d handed the space over to Jensen, and it surprised him how awkward he felt walking in. The television was on, and as Billy turned the corner, he saw the shape of Jensen sat up in a kitchen chair with his back to Billy. “There you are!” Billy sighed in relief. “I’m sorry to pop in, it’s just the alarm system…”

Billy stopped talking the moment his eyes took in the vision of Jensen before him: completely naked, the man sat, tied to the chair with leather straps. A kinky gag was resting between his teeth to prevent him from speaking and, even more bizarrely, a plastic pig snout was resting over his nose. Without his clothes on, the evidence of how much weight Jensen had gained was all too clear. Billy had no idea that his nipples had grown so pointed, nor that his fat belly could cover up his crotch as much as it was doing now; slowly becoming every bit of the ball gut his father had. People might have been surprised to learn that Jensen was well over four hundred pounds, but it really was obvious once all those concealing clothes were stripped from him. He was so tall, so broad and large-chested, yet he had still amassed the most shocking of bellies.

Jensen’s eyes were wide with alarm at having been caught as he was right now. Billy stuttered, wondering what to say, when his composure faltered and the urge to laugh became all too much for him, “Jensen Parry, you bad boy!” he teased. “Just what have you been up to now?”

As Billy went to unclip the gag, he noticed a tattoo on Jensen’s shoulder; that of a pink, round and plump pig. Jensen had many tattoos on his body, but this one had to be new, for Billy had never seen it on any of the shirtless gym selfies Jensen used to post. Billy was sensing a theme…

“I’m so sorry!” Jensen gasped the moment his gag was off. “I was with a girl and she… well, she thought she was being funny and kinky, leaving me here like this. I knew the moment I heard her open the wrong door downstairs that she was going to set off the alarm.”

Still strapped by his ankles, knees and wrists to the chair, Billy didn’t rush to remove the pig snout. It was far too amusing and entertaining seeing Jensen trying to explain himself whilst wearing it. “She sounds charming!” Billy chuckled, seeing the predicament Jensen had been left in. “Have you known her long?” he asked, enjoying seeing Jensen squirm as he tried to engage in simple chit chat, dressed, or rather, undressed, as he was.

“I met her on an app,” Jensen mumbled, trying to gently shake the straps on his wrists. “We’ve only met up a couple of times. She’s kinda into bondage,” he explained sheepishly.

“That’s not all you’ve been up to!” Billy grinned, looking around the space surrounding Jensen. Wrappers and soda cans were discarded on the floor, while a gallon of full fat milk sat, half-finished on the table, next to a strange looking funnel. He bent down and picked up Jensen’s t-shirt, surprised by the weight of it, given how much material was becoming necessary to cover the man’s swollen form.

Jensen blushed. “It was nothing,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “She wasn’t very good at it anyway.”

“Is there a key for the straps?” Billy asked, deciding that Jensen had suffered enough.

“Over there, on the counter,” Jensen motioned with his head. 

Billy collected the small key, wondering how on earth the girl had ever expected Jensen to free himself without help. As he bent down to unlock the ankle lock, he tried wedging the key in to find that it wouldn’t even sit properly inside. And, upon further inspection, the same was true of the other side. “You’ve busted it when you tried to free yourself,” he sighed, looking up and suddenly catching an eyeful of Jensen’s erection, visible as Billy crouched down; the added ropes around the man’s knees preventing him from hiding anything.

“Sorry!” Jensen shot, mortified that Billy had seen his boner. “I just wasn’t expecting you to… I’m not…” he faltered. “Try the wrist straps!” he finally insisted, in an attempt to change the subject altogether.

Billy half-heartedly tried to unlock the wrists, before he declared that the key simply wasn’t going to work. “I think you might be stuck like this for a while,” he teased.

“You’re enjoying this!” Jensen complained, starting to realise that his saviour wasn’t about to free him anytime soon.

“And you’re not?” Billy chuckled, stepping back and deciding to crouch down with his knees outstretched, back at a level where he could see Jensen’s hardness again. He heard the guy squirm, but under such scrutiny, it was obvious that the man’s dick was only filling with more and more blood. “So, what was the deal? She came over and indulged her bondage kink, and in return, you got her to feed you all this stuff?” Billy asked, picking up a selection of empty wrappers that littered the floor.

Seeming to accept his situation more, Jensen nodded.

Billy smirked, pleased that he had guessed correctly first time. He really did know Jensen inside and out by now. Maybe even enough to push their invisible boundaries just a little more…  “But, you said she wasn’t very good at it. So, I’m guessing you’re still hungry?” he smiled, finding a few still wrapped Twinkies on the floor and starting to get one of them out.

Jensen swallowed back saliva and he nodded with his greedy eyes fixed on the sugary snack. Without prompting, he opened his mouth once Billy’s hand drew nearer. As Billy sat the edge of the Twinkie on the guy’s tongue, he noticed that Jensen wasn’t biting into it. He pushed it in a little further, but still the guy left his mouth wide open. Finally with the tips of his fingers, Billy crammed the entire thing in until Jensen’s mouth was completely filled and he began chewing at last. Then he moaned, as deeply and passionately as if they were having sex; gazing up into Billy’s eyes.

“Careful, buddy!” Billy chuckled, starting to sense that something deeply sexual was happening between himself and Jensen now. “If you keep eating like that, you’re going to get absolutely enormous.”

Jensen chewed faster and swallowed. “That’s exactly what I want to happen,” he moaned. His gluttonous eyes looked down at the next Twinkie in Billy’s hand, but seeing that it wasn’t so forthcoming, he carried on explaining himself. “Do you know how much it fucks you over when you grow up knowing that all you really want in life is to become a gigantic ball of lard? I tried so hard to fight it. I wanted to find my thrills in other ways: stealing cars, getting into fights and not giving a shit. I got involved with the wrong crowds and I pushed myself to get massive in the gym instead, but…”

Billy grinned wickedly, feeling more aroused than he had ever been in his life. “But, you’re just a fat pig!” he finished with a smirk, prodding a finger into the shelf of belly fat that had formed under Jensen’s broad and increasingly fleshy chest.

Jensen moaned louder than ever as his fat was pressed and poked. “Oh, I want to be!” he insisted. “I want to be taken and fattened. I want to be someone’s gigantic, greedy pig!” He looked into Billy’s eyes again, as if searching for that connection he knew they both shared. “I wanted it to be you, so badly!” he insisted once more. “I wanted you to order me to stop going to the gym and stuff me full of all your most fattening treats. I wanted you to get hard as you watched my body transform for you; as you saw me grow fat and soft.”

“Trust me, that’s definitely been happening,” Billy grunted as he tried to adjust the thick boner that had swollen down one side of his pants. His body tingled with energy, his brain lighting up with arousal. It seemed to build into a crescendo, until his hands gently ripped open the next Twinkie and stuffed it into Jensen’s mouth whole. With one hand, he steadied the back of Jensen’s head, and with the other, he pressed it over the guy’s mouth, not allowing a single crumb to escape as he chewed. “Come on then, Piggy!” he breathed, giving himself over entirely to the lust inside of him. “Let’s do it! Let’s turn you into the fattest pig out there!” 

When Jensen had swallowed enough of the large Twibkie in his mouth, Billy took his hand down to rub the amazing, sweaty gut that was taking over Jensen’s form. It had always looked so firm and packed, but up close like this, it was clear how blubbery and lardy it was beneath the skin. He grabbed at it, finding that it rolled easily into a pinchable handful and used his grip to gently rock the entire mass of fat. Then, out of curiosity, he reached under Jenen’s fat gut and grabbed at the exposed hardness between his enormous thighs. It was so hard and only started to pulse further as Billy began stroking it. “Oh, yes!” Jensen encouraged him. “Yes!”

Billy grabbed at the key again and forced it into the locks on Jensen’s wrists. With enough brute force, the click finally came and they released. With their freedom, Jensen’s fascinated hands immediately began rubbing Billy’s hardness over the material of his pants as Billy leaned over him, untying the ropes across Jensen’s knees. Once they were free, Jensen stood and the legs of the chair were lifted easily from the shackles, though the leather straps remained wrapped loosely around the fat man’s ankles. He pulled off the little pig snout and threw it onto the floor.

“I love you,” Jensen whispered passionately after the pair of them fell into their first kiss. “I’ve loved you since the first night we met. I just knew that you were the most special person I would ever meet in my life. I just never dreamed that I could be good enough for you.”

Billy shook his head in sadness at hearing that Jensen saw himself as being unworthy. “I love you too,” he shot back, realising that he had been feeling this way for quite some time. “I just want to give you everything I possibly can. The best of everything!”

Jensen sighed in happiness. “Make me enormous then!” he whispered. “Don’t stop until I’m completely unrecognisable! Until I’m nothing but a big, fat pig!”

The pair fell into another, even more passionate kiss, and gently slid backwards into the bedroom area as Billy felt his clothes being pulled off him. He wondered what people would think once they knew he was with Jensen Parry, the bad boy that they had once so despised. 

But Jensen hadn’t been a bad boy in quite some time now. Quietly, and at his own pace, he’d been transforming himself into what he’d really needed to be all along: the biggest, fattest pig in town. Now Jensen wouldn’t have to make that journey alone anymore. For, as they both came that night, Billy knew that he was going to be there for every delicious, blubbery step of the way.

[iwadori]

Why you break up with the haikyu boys part 2 (Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima.)

Part 1 (Atsumu, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Genre: angst

masterlist

Osamu: “For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know that you...”

You and Osamu were basically arranged to be together, you were best friends from when you were little and your parents thought you were a match made in heaven.

Did you love Osamu? Of course, you pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.

But there was always a strange look he gave you whenever he mentioned his brother. You never really focused on it, but that was something you took note of.

When you came back home, after a long day of work. You see Osamu sitting in the kitchen alone, with some paper in front of him and a drink in his hand.

“‘Samu Babe!” You exclaim sauntering over to him “How are yo-“

“Don’t.” He said simply, taking a sipping some of his drink (to which you could only assume was some form of hard liquor.)

“Why ‘Samu, what’s wro-“

“You bought tickets to his game.”

“Who’s game?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you bought tickets to my idiot of a brothers game in an attempt to slut around under my nose..”

“Samu, that’s not what it was I-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/N!” He yelled slamming his drink down making you flinch.

“Gosh Samu whats wrong with you. I know that I had a teeny crush on Atsumu when we were kids but it was just a childhood crush. An innocent childhood crush.”

“For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know yo-“

“You know what? That I’ve spent majority of my life, trying to ease your own insecurities and jealousy of your own goddamn brother. How childish can you be Osamu ?”

Osamu eyes opened a bit in realisation, and his lips slightly parted. “But Y/N, you-“

“I what? Brought us tickets to your TWIN brothers final volleyball game, because I wanted him to see the support from his family and friends.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I really a-“

“Don’t.” you say picking up the tickets and turning around “I just thought maybe, just maybe for at least a day you could put your weird feelings towards your brother aside... but I guess you can’t.”

You left the apartment, and got your stuff another day (one where you knew Osamu was at work.)

No you did not end up dating Atsumu, you were most certainly friends and only friends. You did end up going to the game on your own, to cheer on Atsumu who most definitely appreciated it.

You thought you saw a certain Miya twins sitting in the stands at of the game, hiding his face with a baseball cap. Which made you smile a bit...

Well at least he ended up coming to the game.

Iwaizumi: “I just don’t want you Y/N, I never did”

In your second year of Seijoh Highschool, you were approached by a rough looking boy who had a ‘resting bitch face,’ and looked like they were coming to pick a fight with you.

But no, it was just “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

He was very popular throughout your school, as he was vice captain of the schools volleyball team and he was Oikawa Toorus best friend.

So when he approached you that Friday afternoon at your locker, you definitely didn’t know why.

“Y/N..” he said nervously scratching the back of his neck “umm this is for you..”

In his hands was a bar of chocolate and a scrunched up note that read

AN: DID I WRITE THAT NOTE MYSELF, yes yes I did anyways...

You were very surprised at this sudden confession as you and Iwaizumi weren’t in the same social circles and you were definitely not the type of girl that would be on his ‘radar.’

You had a quite unsettling feeling, which made you subconsciously squint your eyes at him. But they soon soften as you saw the nervousness that Iwaizumi was showcasing to you as you were contemplating on you answer.

You got out a pen, shaking the unsettling feeling you had out of your head. And ticked the box “Yes” giving it back to Iwaizumi.

He smiled widely and rushed towards you in an attempts in giving you a hug which went awkwardly wrong leaving you both laughing.

Dating Hajime, wasn’t bad nor good... it’s just what you wouldn’t expect it to be.

There wasn’t much of a change to what your usual school routine was which consisted of: going to lessons and spending break and lunch on your own reading a book.

And technically you were still doing that, but you were now just always with Hajime. Wether it was at lunch or at practice (which he always insisted you go to, also hinting that he would like for you to bring him bentos to practice.) which you did end up doing.

One day, whilst doing your daily “bento delivery,” to your boyfriend, you overhear him talking to his friends; Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“God I can’t stand her, always running behind me like a lost puppy giving me bentos that I didn’t even fucking as for” he complained, making you gasp.

“Really?” Exclaimed Hanamaki “I know you said she confessed to you one time, but I didn’t know it was that bad?”

“Yeah she’s a stalking bitch, it’s getting annoying.”

“Gosh it’s seems someones getting a taste of the ‘Oikawa Experience’” Matsun said making them all laugh.

You entered the room, furious. “What the fuck Hajime?”

“Woah woah woah, it’s seems your stalkers about iwa, we’ll leave you too it” said Hanamaki, with Matsun following behind him as they leave.

“What do they mean I’m a stalker?”

“Well aren’t you?” He responded with a smirk

“Gosh y/n you’ve been following me about for a while now, dont you think it’s time to stop”

“Bu-But you confessed, with your note and w-“

“Are you sure about that Y/N, cause I don’t really recall ...?”

“Hajime don’t lie, we were dating.. we ARE DATING.”

“Okay Y/N let me fill you in on a little secret,” he said leaning down next to your ear “I don’t want you Y/N, I never did.”

“ but why m-“

“Why you? Because nobody knows Y/N L/N and nobody cares, I can tarnish your name and nobody will give a shit.. and that’s why your an easy target” he said still smiling “ I just wanted to rub it into Shittykawas face that I had my own little “fan club”

You were stunned, frozen in shock as Iwaizumi walks past you to leave the gym, making sure to grab the bento you made him.

“Thanks again for the help, I’m definitely going to miss these bentos!”

You should have listened to your gut feeling from before.

Daichi: “you’re just not marriage material”

Daichi was “the perfect guy,” he was nice to strangers and was helpful to the community and just an all round great guy.

So it was a massive question as to why he went for you, since you were definitely not the girl for Daichi.

“I don’t care what anyone says, your the perfect girl for me” was what he always said.

Even though those statements went out the window whenever his mother got involved.

Daichi’s mum was a strict traditional woman, who believed in family values that went back thousands of years ago.

And she most certainly didn’t like you.

She wanted you to be Daichi’s doting wife, who cooked and cleaned for him. Whilst he works and was the breadwinner of the house.

Although you found no problem with the women that did do this, but this was not for you.

When it comes to meet ups with you, Daichi and his mother. He never told her to stop when it came to the rude comments she made about you, or the times she suggested Daichi go for a more “prim and proper” girl named “Misaki Ayuzawa.”

After the meetings, when his mother was gone, he always tried to reassure that she was wrong and her words didn’t matter.

But you knew they did, that daichi was actually considering some of the things she said about you wether they were true or not.

The tension in your household was strong, since you barely talked to each other anymore. But you had hope for better things...

Until one day, you get a message from Daichi’s mother saying. “It seems Daichi made the right choice, as we all know ‘Mother Knows best.’” With a video attached of Daichi proposing to the one and only “Mikasa Ayuzawa” surrounded by all their high class business friends.

When Daichi got home he yelled, “Y/N, where are you I was at this business party at this fancy restaurant and I got some nice things for you to try!”

“Business party?” You say rolling your eyes “Or Engagement party.”

The shocked look on his face made you smile, as you both knew now that he was caught.

“Fuck you daichi! Why would you do this without even tell me !” You yelled, tearing up a bit.

“Y/N, it wasn’t meant to go down like that it was just I was talking to my mu-“

“Fuck your mum! And you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N you’re just not marriage material an-“

“I don’t care what you’ve got to say, you’ve done it and it’s over with”you said leaving.

“I’ll come back to get my stuff later,” you say “oh and congratulations on the engagement Sawamura-San”

After you said that, Daichi’s heart broke.

He did end up marrying her, and he regretted every day of it. Since she was great and all, but she just wasn’t you...

But he knows now you’re long gone, definitely not going to forgive him for marrying another girl whilst being with him.

Ushijima : stop being so emotional

You and Ushijima were very much opposite In every aspect, and at first it wasn’t really a problem.

Especially since you always excused it as “opposite attracts.”

But recently all you and Ushijima do is argue, left and right always arguing.

You complained about Ushijimas lack of emotion when it came to you, you don’t think he cared about you or about anything.

Whenever you brought up something that was wrong he would reply with “Y/N this is something you need to be acting all upset about.”

And that would definitely upset you even more, you just wanted him to notice you or shout “Y/N I care about you and I love you.”

But Of course he didn’t.

One night he came back late (again) after promising to be home early to have a meal together.

“What’s taken you so long Ushi?” You asked

“I was at practice. I told you this.” He said simply, remaining as stoic as ever.

“But you said- you promised that we can have dinner together.” You said

“ oh well I’m sorry. We can have dinner now if you like.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” you mumbled past him, going to your bedroom.

“Y/N, what’s your problem” he said following after you.

“It’s nothing...”you said tears filling your eyes.

“Okay I’m going to go eat now.” He said leaving you alone in the room going to the kitchen, making you sigh.

After you calm yourself and collect your faults, you go into the kitchen where Ushijima is at the table eating.

“Ushijima, we need to talk.” You said taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“We should break up.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You say tearing up again.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that for a while now.” He said bluntly “since Y/N, you’re just too emotional.”

“Oh I see.” You say now full on crying.

Ushijima looks up to see you all teared-eye, and he is kind of suprised because ‘why were you upset.’ He got up and tried to console you, but you flinched away and said “Don’t, just don’t Ushijima.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...”

“Why are you sorry? Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No.”

“Well then, just seems to prove my point further...” you go to leave before saying “thanks for the wonderful time... I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

AN: can someone appreciate what I did with Iwaizumis....no? Okay 😃 I feel this one way way more angsty then part one but oh well. What did you think.

General taglist[bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy @meadowsinjapan @iambashfulperson @kayleighbeccaa @dearkousei @bakugouswh0r3

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[finelinevogue]

Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.

i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;

oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24

The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.

The final show.

That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.

You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.

The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)

It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.

Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.

The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.

"Hey!"

The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.

"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.

"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.

"Really mum?" She asked.

You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."

The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.

"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?

"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.

"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"

"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.

"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.

"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.

“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.

“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.

All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.

"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.

"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.

"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.

"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.

"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?

"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.

"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.

You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.

"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.

"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.

"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."

[river-bottom-nightmare]

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____