#and nearly 10 years later I'm still thinking about that

[kaydalixza]

Inflicting trauma upon my sweet OCs so I don't have to go through my problems alone-

[mr-jack-letterman]

We need more young stan content out here.

And nah I ain't talking about 12 year old Stanley or 30 year old mullet Stan, I'm talking 17 year old, slicked back hair, acne riddled Stan pines.

Yeah that one.

I am so happy mullet Stan is so popular because his fit slaps ngl and the angst is so potent I can't not respect it. But teenage Stan has so much potential it's driving me insane.

There is a line dividing the 17 years of relative happiness Stan had with Ford and the 10+ years of depression and crime he had on the streets, and teenage Stan uses that line as a goddamn jump rope.

Seriously, depending on how you look at it dude is either living his best life or is fighting for said life in the trenches of homelessness and poverty.

I see a lot of content regarding Stan on the streets but it only ever focuses on 30ish Stan in his later years of homelessness where he's already a hardened adult after years of dealing with this bullshit. But Stan didn't just drive away and then magically turn 30. There were times in those first few months after Stan got kicked out where he was in his car, trying to sleep, probably starving, while still being fundamentally a child.

Hell, compared to the 30ish age of mullet Stan and the 60+ year old con man he'd later become, teenage Stan is damn near a baby. There's a certain brightness about him, a sort of warm naive optimism that still clings to him because he's straight up just too young to know any better.

He's still fully convinced he's gonna make it rich and go back to his family in a few years. He still believes wholeheartedly that even if shit sucks right now, eventually everything is gonna be okay. It has to be. But it's not gonna be okay. It's not gonna be okay for a long time. And some parts are just never gonna be okay.

Seeing a happy and oblivious teenage Stan feels like watching a baby lamb walk into a slaughter house.

The next 10-something years are going to tear him apart limb from limb. In 40 years he's going to wake up on a boat during a bout of amnesia thinking he's in Columbian prison, or he's locked in the trunk of a car and about to drown, or his shoulder is on fire and his brother is gone, or it's the end of the world and everyone he ever dared to give a shit about is about to die in front of him and it's all his fault because he was too weak to stop it.

At some point, a young Stanley is going to get into his first true life or death fight. He doesn't even have to be involved with crime yet for it to happen. He's probably bruised and bleeding, with not nearly enough money to afford a doctor. He's sitting in the driver's seat of his El Diablo having a complete and utter break down because he almost died and suddenly everything is real.

Nothing is okay, absolutely nothing is going to be okay and whatever is left of his teenage innocence, naivety, and warmth dies in that car and it never comes back.

The next 10+ years are going to fundamentally change Stanley as a person and he's never going to be the same ever again. But teenage Stan doesn't know that, he's still a kid trying to sleep in the back of his car, ignoring hunger pangs and finding comfort in the half baked business ideas his mind cooks up because he doesn't understand how utterly done for he is.

12 year old Stanley I believe is so appealing because of his bright rambunctious spirit. He's still just a kid playing on the beach with his brother, but so was teenage Stan. I just wish the wholesomeness that comes with that and the subsequent hurt that follows as that spirit is broken over and over again by the world was explored more.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Lullabies Pt 2 | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Max left without letting you fully explain. Nearly a year later, he realises he made a mistake when he thinks you're moving on.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but also fluff. Redemption arc.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2021 with slightly altered timelines.

Main Masterlist

prev.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Oct

YourUserName just posted

liked by pierregasly, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName a huge thank you to everyone who came to my album release concert! 🥀 a huge apology to anyone who missed out but after such a phenomenal crowd this evening, i'm pleased to announce the GUTS tour coming 2022!!

11,998 comments

User1 a tour!!! release the dates/countries now please and thank you

User2 mother treating us

User3 okay but when she SANG The Grudge with the tears rolling down her cheeks, poured her whole soul into that

→ User4 omg yes, you could legit feel the pain in your own chest

→ User5 no no no because what about the gasp through her sobbing at The Stranger

User6 nobody can tell me that Obsessed wasn't written as a kelly piquet pov

→ User7 haha literally because y/n has never said a bad word about this woman but she is all up in her business 

→ User8 and all up in her likes too from what i saw

User8 not my delusional ass hoping it’s max and that the lighting just made his hair darker

User9 love how she’s still featured on the wags page despite her and max not being a couple for 10 months now

→ User10 legit. they post her more than kelly

User11 i bet max is kicking himself for letting her go now that someone else has realised how much she’s worth 

FutureF1Wag i need to know where f1 wags got that pic from because it’s SOOO much clearer than the one i got

User12 okay but where can i get a man like that because that kiss looks hawt!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Nov

YourUserName just posted a new story

lilymhe have the best time, babe. brunch debrief tomorrow?

→ YourUserName 11?

→ lilymhe absolutely 

YourBestFriend oo look at you being treated right 

→ YourUserName i know. how sweet

they're sooo pretty as well

→ YourBestFriend you’ve had bigger though 

→ YourUserName don’t do this today 

→ YourBestFriend sorry. be safe. text me when you’re home 

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Dec

User1 max really said, just because i didn't want her doesn't mean anyone else can

→ User2 be serious, he clearly loves her. he just confused his priorities for a hot second

User3 the way these rumours have been floating since max and kelly went social media official though. like everyone has constantly said they're on the rocks since we found out about them

→ User4 literally. like i loved max and y/n but they've both moved on. people are just creating drama because they can't accept that max and y/n aren't together anymore

User5 no because y/n is literally max's forever after and nobody can convince me otherwise

User6 max and y/n are literally each other's one true love. kelly was just the poison apple that leads to their true love's kiss

User7 y/nstappen shippers rise!

User8 she's watching his races again!

User9 she watched him win!!

User10 @ YourBestFriend is just like us for real. you can tell she's been praying for them to get back together

→ User11 she's feeding us crumbs and we're lapping them up

User12 not red bull down here fighting with us in the trenches

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

maxverstappen1 FUCK YEAH! WORLD CHAMP! 🥇🇳🇱 a huge thank you to @ redbullracing for their support throughout the whole season. you made all of this possible.

7,330 comments

redbullracing what a season! here's to many more, champ

christianhorner so unbelievably proud of you! enjoy the celebrations

danielricciardo congrats, mate. couldn't be happier for you. looking forward to celebrating later 🍾

landonorris woohoo! my shirt is still wet from your tears

→ maxverstappen1 don't lie. you cried more than i did

→ landonorris true

mclaren well done, max! an amazing achievement

YourUserName congrats, world champ x

liked by maxverstappen1

→ User13 mama en papa

→ User14 not the best phrase to use when the reason they broke up is due to a miscommunication about having children 

User15 omg omg omg, not a drill, guys. the queen has commented. and max liked!! 

→ User16 user we may not get them back together but i’ll take the tiny trickles of friendship they give us

→ User17 same sis same 

→ User18 may our delulus come trululu

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, carmenmmundt and others

YourUserName so i may have just won my first grammy? my ultimate gratitude to @ lovelessofficial for taking a chance on me when no one else would, the biggest love to those who supported me before i deserved it, and a final huge thank you to the inspiration behind the album 💕🦁

9,556 comments

User1 miss thing, looks like you got more than just your first grammy

→ YourUserName it's definitely a nice collection ;)

francisca.cgomes so proud of you, minha linda 🌼

→ YourUserName couldn't have done it without you pouring wine down my neck, kiks

lilymhe that's my girl!!

YourBestFriend wow, look at that dress. it would look better on my bedroom floor

liked by maxverstappen1

lewishamilton amazing achievement, y/n. well done

→ YourUserName thanks, lewis. you raced so well this season

danielricciardo did somebody say celebratory drinks later? 🥂

maxverstappen1 congrats, grammy winner x

liked by YourUserName

→ lovelessofficial thanks for joining us for the celebrations

→ User2 max was at her after party!!!!

→ User3 over a year after their breakup and we might be getting them back together??

User4 the trophies in their house must be overwhelming 

→ User5 love that we’re talking like they’re already back together

User6 'the inspiration behind the album' is so shady and sweet haha, poor max. i love that he'll be forever reminded of how badly he fumbled

→ User7 what makes you think she's on about max

→ User6 um, she wrote the album after their breakup and used the lion emoji, which she always used in posts about him. read the room, babes

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Jan

YourUserName just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName happy new year's from me and my loved ones to you and yours (yes, he got drunk after this and ruined the rest of my photos)

13,441 comments

User8 omg omg omg omg!!!

User9 they're back together! they're back together! we win!

charles_leclerc beautiful couple. glad to see you both happy again

danielricciardo yuck. i haven't missed the pda

→ YourUserName you're just jealous you can't be our third

→ danielricciardo every day baby

maxverstappen1 i didn’t ruin them! they just become less pg

→ User10 woah, mr verstappen, we were not familiar with you

redbullracing our favourite trophy winning couple. can't wait to have y/n back in the paddock next month

maxverstappen1 looking forward to all that the future brings us, mijn mooie vrouw 🥰

→ YourUserName mijn lieve echtgenoot 💕

→ User11 um, the pet names!!!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

I know some people said on Danny’s that they wanted it to be longer but this are only planned as a duo series. Sorry, guys! 💕

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @itsjustmyopinionf1 @evesfile @openthenyoor01 @princessria127 @hrrorflm @the-untamed-soul @nataliambc @oliviarodrigostan13 @sweate-r-weathe-r

As always, so sorry if I missed anyone. Thanks for all your support x

[bigification]

Corporate

John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.

He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.

Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.

But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.

Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.

John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.

One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.

He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.

He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.

He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.

"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.

"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.

"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.

"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."

"What's your name?"

"John Fitzgerald."

The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.

A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.

"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.

The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.

"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.

"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.

"Yes, go on."

John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.

He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.

"They're too big!" John complained.

The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.

"They're still too big!" John whined.

"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.

"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.

John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.

John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.

His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.

John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.

This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.

John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.

His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.

Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.

John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.

"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.

"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."

John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.

"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.

John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.

"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.

[wroetominter]

Come back, be here - George Clarke

In which Y/n and George are friends, who live an ocean away and can’t stand the distance.

Pairing: George X Femreader

Warnings: none, flufffff

Cool breeze whipped my hair around as I walked down the streets of New York on my way to the shop on the corner. The January air was crisp and cool, just how I liked it. I had been living in New York since starting my YouTube career a few years back. It was a great city, with many opportunities for career development - usually. I had fallen into the UK YouTube scene quickly, which made my American roots a bit more difficult in my career.

Luckily for me, a lot of my friends loved the city and would frequently visit. Recently George, Max, and Andrew had visited during a brand trip they had been on.

———

"Max! That is so not how that happened!" I yelled at him from across the table.

"That is most certainly how it happened, I remember it clearly!" Everyone at the table erupted in laughter. Max had told a story about me from one of my more recent trips to London. We had been on a night out and I allegedly stood up on the bench we were at in the club and started dancing above everyone, singing at the top of my lungs.

A blush crept to my cheeks, looking at George sat next to me, hoping he would save me from this embarrassment. "Sorry love, that is what happened." I sighed, knowing I could trust his word as he was the sober one that night.

"Well, at least I kept my clothes on." I laughed.

During this all too short trip, we had visited all of the tourist destinations together. The Met, Rockefeller, and a ton of different restaurants and bars.

When it came time to leave, I stood in my apartment with George. Max and Andrew had an earlier flight, and had left a few hours ago.

"I don't want you to leave" I pouted at him. He smile down at me, pulling me closer for a hug.

"I'll be back before you know it, or you'll be in London I'm sure." We pulled back, I still held onto his arms looking up at him.

"I'm going to book a flight now. It sucks being so far away from all of you guys."

"You could always move to London." He raised his eyebrows.

"I could, if I can manage a work visa somehow..." I trailed off, trying to think of how to logistically do this.

"You'll figure it out. Until then, I unfortunately do have to go home." I pouted once again, wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

"I'll miss you." I said softly into his sweater.

He hugged me back tightly, swaying us together. "I'll miss you too, I'll call you when it's morning for you." I shook my head.

"Call me when you land." I said pulling back from his embrace and leaning against my counter.

"Y/n, it'll be 4 in the morning your time when I land." He explained.

"I don't care, call me anyway." He laughed it off, shrugging his jacket on and pulling the handle of his suitcase up. I walked to the door with him, sadly watching as he left. "Bye George, see you soon!" I said. He waved to me as he left, elevator closing down the hall. I felt sad closing the door to my apartment, sitting myself down on the couch.

I always felt a pang in my chest when I left my friends. They had become such a pivotal part of my life in recent months. I sat with my laptop in my lap, browsing the internet trying to research moving to the UK as an American. I sighed, not finding much helpful information. I figured I should just sleep it off and worry about it later, setting my laptop on the table I pulled the blanket over my body and drifted to sleep.

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing on the coffee table, reaching over instantly and seeing George's name.

"Hello!" I answered, trying to be as chipper as I could seeing as I had just woken up.

"I told you I would wake you up." He said laughing. I looked over to the clock to find it was now half 3 in the morning. George had left nearly 10 hours ago at this point.

"It's fine, I wanted you to. How was your flight?" He sighed through the phone.

"Awful to be honest. I miss you." The tone of his voice became really serious with those words.

It wasn't exactly a secret I had become closer to George than the rest of the group. We had so much in common that everything just came easily with him. I had myself fully convinced if there wasn't an entire ocean between us we would likely be dating at this point.

"I know Georgie, I miss you too... I was actually looking into moving to London the second you left my apartment." I admitted.

"I looked into it on flight as well. I talked with my manager and she mentioned that if you're signed with a company abroad you can usually get a work visa for that country. She said she's done it a few times before for some of her American talents." My heart nearly skipped a beat. He had been thinking about it too.

"Aw, you asked for me?"

"Of course. Don't you realize I want to see you more often? Ideally daily if I can". Oh. He was fully flirting with me now. Borderline admitting feelings for me.

"Are you sure you could handle seeing me every day? I fear you would really see how annoying I am at that point" I laughed, part of me knowing it was true.

"You could never annoy me darling. If anything I'm sure my dry jokes would send you running eventually." Darling. Damn, that one hit me right in the chest. "I have to run though, about to get in the uber home. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Of course, I'll call you. Bye bye Georgie" I said.

"Bye love, see you soon."

After we had hung up the phone I flopped onto my back on the couch, feeling my chest swelling with emotion. I want to see him so badly.

———

I had been hiding this from nearly everyone I knew for months. It was eating me alive every second of every day. After George told me his manager had helped people get work visas in the UK, I knew what I had to do.

I had secretly reached out to her, inquiring about how I was to go about this. I urged to her the importance of keeping this a secret from everyone. I wanted to keep it hidden in case something didn't work, I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions, between getting myself signed to their talent management, to the intense amount of paperwork that came with it. I had made it work, and finally received my authorization to move with a work visa.

I coordinated with an estate agent to secure an apartment right away. Having been to London many times, I had already picked out a few areas of the city I wanted to live in. Luckily in this virtual world, I was able to do everything remotely, from my tour to the application process.

Taking a final look around my empty apartment I locked the door, heading to the office to turn in my keys.

I rolled my suitcase behind me, ready to leave my life in New York behind.

———

After my long flight, all I wanted to do was see my new place. I still hadn't told anyone I was in the country, let alone moving there. I had been dodging FaceTime calls from George for the last few days, knowing if I saw his face or heard his voice I would crumble and give in telling him everything.

After collecting my keys for my new apartment, I took a look around at all of the boxes I had shipped here over the last few weeks. It was basically my entire New York apartment, just in boxes.

Now to put my plan into action to tell everyone. I started by unpacking a few essentials, taking a shower and freshening my outfit. I took a selfie in my living room with all of my boxes, making sure that the background was clear in the window, showing off my London city view. After making sure I had everything packed into my crossbody, I locked my door and made my way to George's flat.

I realized that I had to tell someone that I was there, to be able to get into the building. I decided Arthur Hill would be my safest bet. I sent him a text message asking him to let me into the building, as I was there to surprise George. He obliged quickly, and I was granted access to their building.

I felt my nerves building as I reached the door to their flat.

Wiping my clammy hands on my jeans, I knocked on the door. Secretly hoping that George wouldn't answer so I could play out the surprise, and calm my nerves a bit.

Luckily for me, Chris answered the door. "Y/n! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed, immediately pulling me in for a hug.

"Surprise visit! How are you?" He replied with the normal pleasantries, letting me know he had been well. "Is George home?"  I asked him.

"Yes, he's in his room. Let yourself in. Do you want me to film?" He asked. I instantly handed over my phone and nodded.

Waiting for his queue, I walked down the short hallway to George's room, silently turning the knob and opening the door. His back was to me at his desk, headphones in, blocking out sound.

"Hey stranger" I said, immediately pulling his attention from his computer. His eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet, tossing his headphones on the desk and coming to meet me, instantly wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up in a tight hug, his face nuzzling into my neck.

"How did you know I needed to see you today?" He said softly, his hand stroking my hair softly.

"Just had a feeling I guess." I replied.

Chris stopped the video "you guys are too cute." He handed me back my phone and I thanked him. He excused himself and I directed my attention back to George who hadn't removed his arms from my waist since we had hugged.

"Is this why you've been dodging my calls?" He joked, smirking at me.

"It may have been." I retorted.

I thought for a minute about how to tell him I was here to stay. I considered just showing him the photo but it didn't feel grand enough considering I had just moved across the ocean, essentially for him.

"Take a walk with me?" I asked him.

"Erm, sure?" He finally pulled away, eliciting a pout from me as he grabbed a sweater, pulling it over his body.

We walked together, making the short trip between his flat and mine. He continues to ask me where we were going, and I continued to assure him he would see shortly. I could tell he was frustrated with the answer, but I knew it would be worth it soon enough.

We came to my new door, and he still didn’t seem to be understanding. I could almost visibly see the gears turning in his head as I reached out to unlock the door and stepped in.

He followed suit slowly, looking around the room. He recognized my handwriting on the various moving boxes labeled around the room.

He turned to face me “is this a prank?” He asked me, searching around the room with his eyes, likely looking for a hidden camera.

I shook my head, smiling at him. “Not a prank. I’m here to stay.” A grin broke out on his face and he wrapped me in his arms once again. I let out a sigh, feeling content snuggled into him. The soft smell of cologne lingering on the sweater he was wearing.

Taking me by surprise, his hands brought themselves to my face, cupping each cheek and he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss. I kissed him back, finding myself smiling into the kiss. He pulled back, keeping his forehead pressed to mine.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to kiss you.” He admitted. I leaned in, kissing him again, my arms tightening around him as I deepened the kiss.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” I smiled at him.

London was going to be very good for me.

[secretkinkz]

I'm requesting a father Sukuna and Sukuna's daughter's best friend, Y/N. Sukuna  looks at their thighs, low-cut top, and other things during the day and when Y/N's friend is asleep they go to the kitchen to get something to eat and they notice Sukuna sitting at the kitchen table doing work and Y/N's tries to tease him but it backfires. [PS love your work. Hope you are still writing. Much love!]

A/n: OMG, I can't even tell how long it's been since you requested this. I'm so sorry, I didn't know I even HAD submissions! I've been gone for a while but here, I did my best <3

~~~~

P s. Y'all don't think too much Abt the age. Literally. Don't. It might not make sense.

Modern AU

Warnings: Age gap (19/32), broken girl code, spitting, spanking, gagging, choking, hair pulling, male oral and, fem oral.

Enjoy~

So fucking rude, but he's fucking sexy. God, I can't stand him.

You stare at Sukuna from across the room as he stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his back turned doing God knows what on his phone.

You were over to see Yuromi, his daughter, your best friend. Well, to be honest. You wanted to see him, you've only known Yuromi for 6 months, yesterday you met her dad.

It was your birthday party, her dad dropped her off and you were introduced to him. He nonchalantly nodded and drove off after telling his 21 year old daughter to be safe.

Yeah, she still lives with her dad, because she was afraid of the real world.

Yuromi had always been spoiled and clearly pampered by her father so she was afraid of leaving the house and he was completely fine with that. He was a single father so he doesn't have a reason to deny her.

But seriously, you were interested in him but Yuromi would be pissed if you actually tried him out. Would she? Then again, she was adopted. Sukuna adopted her when she was 10.

God, you wanted him though. To just fuck him, let him bend you over the counter and go balls deep.

His rough voice saying the most disgusting things that would leave you dripping for him. Fuck.

You had a chance, you often caught Sukuna staring at you. So you wore revealing clothes every time you went over. He would watch your ass whenever you bend over, sometimes you'd part your legs so he could see the lace panties you wore.

You squeeze your legs together just thinking about it.

"Hey, come on. Stop ignoring me.." Yuromi cocked her eyebrows, crossing her arms.

"It's late, sorry I'm tired." I mumbled.

"Shit, it is 1 am. Let's go to bed." She stood up from the couching and stretched.

"I'm going to bed dad, goodnight." She went over and hugged him, his kissed her forehead. "Sleep well." He said, as she smiled.

"Don't overwork yourself."

We went upstairs to her room. "Okay, in the morning we'll go to the concert. God, I can't wait." She squealed, hugging you.

You chuckled, she was excited over a classical show. Beethoven's fur Elise, would be performed.

"Alright, I'll wake you up." You waved as you went into the room next to hers..

It was only an hour later when you got hungry, so you decided to go downstairs.

To your surprise, Sukuna was sitting at the table on his laptop.

You slowed down and stared at him for a moment before going into the kitchen. "Don't mind me." You whispered, grabbing a water bottle instead before moving to the table.

"What do you want?" He asked, picking up his pen. "Nothing..." You lean forward, letting your oversized tank top shift a little.

"You know for someone who's only known me for less than 3 months, you sure are comfortable wearing those clothes around my house." He said coldly, meeting your gaze. You nearly melt seeing his intense glare.

"I'm sorry, I'll dress better." You run lick your lips and watch hima s he writes whatever's on his laptop down. "Do you need anything?"

He growls lowly, clearly becoming frustrated.

"Actually, yes.. I'd like to get to know you. Since, you're my best friend's father."

He removed his glasses and looked up.

"What would you like to know?" He asks, making it noticeable that he wasn't interested.

"What are your hobbies, What do you like to eat, your taste in women-"

"If you're only hanging with my daughter just to get at me, I suggest you stop."

"What? Of course not, I love Yuromi. But.." you rhb your feet against his leg.

"It wouldn't hurt wanting her dad."

Sukuna stared at you as you stood up, moving behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, brushing your lips against his ear.

"You're playing a dangerous game girl."

"I like to play risky sometimes."

Sukuna gripped your wrist and slammed you against the table, pressing his bulge against your ass. "Let's see how long you'll be willing to."

He kicked your legs apart and lifted your shirt. "No panties? So you're used to quickies huh?"

"No, I barely have sex. Why, are you jealous?"

Sukuna slaps your ass, gripping it firmly. "I'm far too grown to be jealous."

You gasp feeling his cold fingers slip between your lips. His free hand reaching under your shirt and gripping your breast. You bite your lips, surpressing your moans, his fingers curl hitting your sensitive spot.

"Whatever you say. you're moving like we have all day."

"I like to take my time, admire something before I make a mess of it."

Sukuna inserts another finger, spreading them apart. "Don't do that." You whine, bucking your hips. "This?"

He spreads them again, like he was stretching your pussy.

"You're practically riding my fingers right now."

You instantly stop moving your hips. "Perhaps you're out of touch, which is why you're taking years."

He smiles slightly as your insult.

Your eyes widened feeling a hot and burning sensation on your ass again, it doesn't stop as he strikes your ass again and again. "Let's see, if I'm out of touch."

Tear prick the end of your eyes as he rubs the painful area. Fuck it get so good. Sukuna thrusts his fingers into your mouth, gagging you as he thrusts them in and out.

Your eyes roll back as your throat grows hot. You struggle to pull back, Sukuna keeps his fingers buried deep. Not even caring that you were turning red and choking.

Feeling your hips twitch, he withdraws his fingers. You inhale, attempting to catch your breath. He collects the drool on the side of your mouth, using it to coat your nipples. You didn't think Sukuna was fucking Sadistic.

"Get on your knees."

You did as he ordered, leaning against the counter and you sat on your knees. You nearly choked on your salvia seeing his dick, it was fucking huge. You couldn't possibly take that.

The tip of his cock red and forming with precum, it was veiny and long.

"Open." But hearing his raspy voice order you around, that was impossible to reject.

You open your mouth, your hands barely wrapping around his length as you take the head into your mouth.

He grunts, watching you try and take all of it. "Shouldn't be greedy."

You glare at him and pull back, going back down and repeat. You eventually speed up, the sounds of your slurping and gagging on his girth is the only thing heard.

As if he'd grown impatient, he tangled his finger in your hair and began thrusting. Your head hitting the wall as he pins you against it. He growls and leans his head back. "Fuck."

You place your hands on his thigh, fighting the urge to finger yourself to his aggression.

Sukuna holds your head still as he slams his cock down your throat, groaning as if you two were the only ones in the house.

Thank God Yuromi was a heavy sleeper, she didn't even wake up to someone banging on her door.

"Shit, your mouth is pretty useful. I like that, the sound of you choking on my dick. It's better than you shamelessly flirting with me."

He slaps your face a few times, before pulling away.

You swallow his load, coughing slightly.

Sukuna grabbed you by the waist and placed you on the counter, spreading your legs.

He went between your legs, wasting no time to start sucking on your folds.

"Mm." You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him, biting your lip.

"Yes.." Your eyes flutter, his thumb rubbing your clitoris in circular motions as he spits and smears it. So nasty, and filthy, he didn't care how messy he was, he was slurping your juices and enjoying every moment of it.

"Fuck, Suk-Sukuna... ohhh shit shit!" You squirm, gripping his hair as you arch your back off the counter. "Mm, fuck! Keep going, yes yes!" He speeds up, grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders as he pushes your knees against your chest.

"God! Mm fuck, baby!" You whimper, panting heavily as you chase your orgasm.

Your toes curls as your mouth falls open, stomach churning as your orgasm waves over you.

Sukuna pulls away, his tongue running over his lips.

He presses his dick against your entrance.

He hasn't even started fucking you yet and you were already tired and overstimulated. You couldn't even take the small steps, how could you possibly handle him fucking your brains out?

When he did start, you were gripping the edges of the counter moaning loudly as he slammed his hips into your ass.

"Fuckin' tight, shit I could fuck this all night." He groaned, yanking your head back as you clenched your teeth. "Open."

He spat in your mouth, you closed your mouth and swallowed. God, whatever this man would throw at you, you would swallow willingly. He asked so fucking sexy, his dick? Even better, shiitt it was stretching you wide.

You were almost screaming as he slapped your ass and brutally fucked your pussy.

He pulled out and turned you on your back, entering with the same force once again. This time he got a better look at your flushed face as you took his cock.

"You like that?"

"M-mm, I fucking love it!" You cried, your eyes rolling back as he wrapped his hand around your throat. "Good, fucking good."

He tightened the grip he had around your throat, his eyes rolling back S you clenched down on his cock. "S-Shit." He released a guttural moan.

It wasn't long before he took you to his bedroom, you found yourself in a mating press as you had the filthiest kiss ever.

He fought the urge to fill your tight, warm pussy with his seed. He wanted to make you a mother, just so he could see his cum drip from all of your holes.

~~~~~~~

A/n: it's 3 am. I need to take my ass to sleep. 😌❤️

[freckliedan]

please please please share details about your thoughts abt the week in november. i get emotional thinking abt their early years and your answer to that ask made my heart so warm i need to know more

(prev posts: one, two)

i don't have a ton more to say at the moment i'm sorry anon!! it's been awhile since @freckliephil & i talked about it. and she's 100% the source of my thoughts on this & i'll never be able to encapsulate it in words as well as she does :')

that said i'll still give it a shot!

do you ever think about how as much as dnp were absolutely uhauling it from day one they also took their time? people joke about dan's first trip being a sex marathon and there's definitely good fic about that but like. dan's uma thurman week tweets were clearly abt something new and special?

(& i'm not going to get into talking abt how penetrative sex isn't the only type of sex or the ultimate end goal but you can pretend i do that here).

anyways. uma thurman week was nearly 2 months after they met irl, yknow? and they'd spent as much time together in person as possible thru that stretch. but even the cherry tweets & then uma thurman tweets were several days into the visit in question. so like. it wasn't immediate! they weren't rushing into escalating physical intimacy!

they took their time and went at a pace that felt safe for dan which like. i cannot even begin to get into how huge it is that dan felt safe with phil both in his queerness and with physical touch. it's so overwhelming for me to think about.

like, i was abused at work for ~10 months as an adult; the person never laid a hand on me and i still have a complicated relationship with touch now. dan spent his entire childhood experiencing the abuse of intense bullying which INCLUDED a physical aspect.

i know not everyone responds to trauma in the same way but i don't think it's a stretch to say that dan almost certainly has had a much more complicated relationship with touch than i have or could even imagine as a result of his experiences. like we ALL knew he was triggered by having his neck touched before ever having the context of why.

back to the subject at hand i just like. it's just. dan felt safe with phil. to be himself and to touch and be touched. & it was more than just safe, it was good & felt good. they could laugh together. they took their time discovering what was pleasurable.

of course it was lifechanging. of course the feeling was too big to just hold in his body alone no wonder he tweeted like that.

of course it's still putting stars in their eyes fifteen years later.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Where All This Love Comes From

I'm so excited to share what has been known as Flashback Fic! 107k words, with all 14 chapters here on Ao3, rated E.

Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. Afterwards, over omelets at the diner, the husbands open up to each other. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son.

************************************************

Carlos puts his arms around him from behind and holds him still, kissing his neck. TK tries to twist in Carlos’ grip, but he won’t let him. He starts walking him towards the bedroom. “I’m desperate for you,” TK says, his blood hot, cheeks red, eyes pricking with tears. “I know.” “Make me forget everything.” “I will.” “I only want to think about you.” “You will.” Carlos stops for a breath. He smells TK – his clean hair, his evanesced cologne, his natural man scent, his salty tears that have imbued his skin, the sweat of stress. Sad, but still beautiful to Carlos. TK, delicious. “I never thought I’d have you. I never thought–” he can’t speak anymore.

***********************************************

Chapter 1: A Trail to Follow

In 2023, TK discovers something that triggers memories of heroin withdrawal seven years before – and Carlos makes amends with Gutiérrez after accusing him of his father’s murder.

Chapter 2: A Very Nice Sweater for the 'Y'

TK takes Carlos to the N.A. meeting – but when things don’t go as hoped, he instigates another method to get Carlos talking.  

Chapter 3: Snowballing

A messy situation in 2010 causes TK as a high school junior to lash out. In 2023, Carlos realizes it's time to tell TK about one more secret. 

Chapter 4: Original Sin

In 2013, Carlos accidentally destroys Gabriel’s oldest friendship. Nine years later, he attempts to make peace after he and TK get engaged.

Chapter 5: Between Two Bridges

In 2022, a grieving and struggling TK is compelled to talk to Owen about his 2020 overdose, which leads him to remember when his addiction nearly killed him years before. In 2023, TK asks Carlos about his history with alcohol. (Note: Chapter features TK using and gets fairly graphic)

Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor

TK and Carlos compare notes on when they first came out – with Carlos spiraling in 2011 after an unexpected outburst, while TK in 2008 is embraced (and embarrassed) by his parents. In 2021, both handle the raw days of their breakup differently too.

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend

In 2009, Gabriel attempts to connect with his increasingly distant and unhappy teenage son. In 2013, the fallout of Carlos leaving Iris has begun, and he knows his relationship with his parents will never be the same. In 2023, TK tries to talk to Gabriel about the bombshell revelation that Carlos doesn’t want kids.

Chapter 8: Your Heart, As If It Was My Very Own

In 2011, TK is left bewildered after he loses his virginity. Years later, with Carlos, TK's mind (among other things) is blown in a whole new way. In 2022, TK has an important conversation with a certain visitor when he wakes from his coma.

Chapter 9: Coffee with Gutiérrez

In September 2023, Carlos seeks an important but painful truth from Gutiérrez, and finds an unexpected ally within the 126. Two months later in Blue Moon Diner, TK gets ready to tell Carlos more about his past in New York.

Chapter 10: The Day Begins Like Any Other

In 2016, after TK experiences an assault and sees an old friend again under devastating circumstances, he makes a life-altering decision when his dealer suggests he try something new. In 2009, TK is attacked at school. (Note: Please heed the tags and the chapter note. Reader discretion advised. Look after your hearts).

Chapter 11: Lonely as a Sparrow in the Rain

When Carlos confesses to TK about where he went with Judd back in September – and why – TK has to tell Carlos something he won't want to hear. In 2014, a rift develops when Carlos shows off his new Camaro to his parents.

Chapter 12: Happy For You, Son

Before moving to Austin, TK falls out with his parents over his relationship with Alex. In December 2020, it's a different story as Carlos hosts Owen and Gwyn for TK's birthday meal. In 2012, Carlos has some unexpected news for his own parents, but Michelle tries to intervene. When TK and Carlos get engaged a decade later, Gabriel has something to say about it.

Chapter 13: The Risk of Love

In May 2023, Owen and TK save a spiraling Carlos from making the biggest mistake of his life when he thinks he’s found his father’s killer. In 2020, TK and Carlos become boyfriends beneath a sky full of aurora borealis.

Chapter 14: A Night Worth Celebrating

On a rainy night in 2020, TK and Carlos meet for the first time. In 2023, weeks after their big talk at Blue Moon, TK celebrates his thirtieth birthday with his husband, their family and their friends by his side – and Carlos is a little bit better at sharing his secrets.

Read on A03

[dizzyduck44]

Good in a Crisis or just in Crisis?

Right, this may be the hardest of the post I wanted to write post-Monza. In fact I've been trying to think for two weeks how to word this without getting cancelled. I think though by using the events of the last two weekends I can give examples that can support my thoughts.

I'm going to start by being clear, if from my previous posts you think this is going to be an Oscar take down, it's not. Fair warning.

So really this starts with a story Nicole Piastri told in the Red Flag podcast. How when out with Oscar on a bike ride she ended up going over the handle bars of the bike. According to her, Oscar calmly and almost emotionlessly asked if she was ok? They get back home and find that the heart monitor he was wearing registered his heart rate through the roof and he had clearly been worried and panicing. But that was not what came across.

And there was the first lightbulb, Oscar doesn't seem to know how to convey his emotions or react in the way you would expect. There also seemed to be an obliviousness of anything beyond him and his immediate surroundings. (I’m not developing that any further, drawn your own conclusions).

Suddenly the myth of his mental strength, Kimi-esque cool doesn't read the same way. And as my brain can literally make me the foreshadowing, pessimistic prophet of doom at a kids birthday party, my gut feeling was, this won't end well.

Little did I know, I'd have to wait less than two weeks to be proven right.

McLaren arrived in Zandvoort with a Lando determined to make it clear he was going for the World Championship. We know what happened next. Lando takes pole and the win. Oscar finishes 4th. Fast forwarded to a Lando the media fell over itself for and a clearly unhappy Oscar in the media pen.

Thing is, this has been a regular situation this year. Lando has taken 4 poles and stood on the podium 10 out of 16 races. Oscar has been up there 5 times and his maiden win was questionable at best.

And then something seemingly insignificant to McLaren happened. Williams ditches Logan due to poor results. The team seemingly deciding he wasn't good enough and ended his F1 career.

Last weekend in Italy, we discovered how much all this is weighing on Oscar’s mind.

At the end of qualifying, Lando once again is on pole and as Oscar walked to the podium for personal effects he threw his gloves down. Lando had to go to him, he didn't go to congratulate Lando. Oscar was annoyed at missing pole again in his interview. You could see the frustration was simmering.

And then Sunday. Anyone who knows anything about racing knows what was in the best interest of McLaren. Finish lap 1 leading the field, build a gap, control the pace, use DRS to race each other.

No. Lando fully trusting Oscar to do the team thing and made no defence into turn 3 thinking he wouldn’t need to. Oscar, by his own later admission believed it was "his only way to win the race" and went for the lunge.

Was it a brilliant overtake? Yes though there was no defence put up.

Was it necessary? I think the only person who thought so was Oscar.

Did McLaren finish lap 1 first and second and go on to control the race? Nope.

Oscar had not reacted in the way anyone expected him to.

After the race the team and Lando called the move "aggressive", "risky" and "unexpected". Zak even had to concede it nearly resulted in Lando spinning. Oscar meanwhile didn’t seem to see anything wrong with what he had done.

They should have left Monza leading the Constructors Championship. Instead they still trail Red Bull by 8 points.

Ultimately with Max so far down the field it didn't really matter what order they finished 1-2. What mattered was finishing 1-2.

Post-race Oscar seemed annoyed and frustrated he hadn't made this win stick. He has risked so much and come away with slim pickings. The press afterwards didn’t get any better, taking swipes at Lance and refusing to address the question of team orders.

Ultimately we now know from the tyre data Oscar was never going to be able to make a 1 stop work, but Lando might have. The only person who was a safe bet was Lewis, but Mercedes were having their own WTF problems further down the pitlane. However from lap 1, Charles was chasing Oscar and Lando was having to keep up with them trying to salvage McLaren’s strategy.

The root of the problem was created on a sunny day in July, just outside of Budapest. By gifting Oscar the win in Hungary, McLaren have created a double headed monster.

You have Oscar who on reflection sees that having a teammate slow down for you (because you admit you can't catch them up) is a poor way to win a race when a championship isn't on the line. He wants to banish that hanging over his head as quickly as possible. Team orders are not going to help that. Chances are they will result in no real possibility of another win till 2025!

However, on that day your team promised you and they would help Lando to win a championship in exchange for said win.

And where does that leave Oscar. Frustrated. Unhappy and pegged as "mentally strong". What Oscar really needs right now is a Lando/Charles/Max esque rant and brutal critic of himself. You can see its all beginning to get to him.

In Hungary he took himself off the track a couple of times unprovoked. In Spa he went long in his pitbox. In Monza destroying the tyres to try and build a lead and then being too aggressive into the pitbox again. Because he doesn't let emotions out, they are beginning to effect what he could potentially achieve.

So how do we go forward. Firstly, for his sake, lets drop the mentally strong tag. Lando is mentally strong. He went through lockdown alone. He has driven through grief, tonsilitis, and a broken rib (yes really) on top of the nerves he freely admits. If he has a rant in the cockpit or berates himself after the race so be it. It’s better than carrying it round with you like luggage from race to race.

That's what I hope Oscar learns. Emotion in this sport is a good thing. The team is not going to dump you for admitting you fear being labelled as a contested one race winner. He may find they turn round and say we are sorry, in hindsight that wasn't fair for us to do to you. Tell them you want the qualifying stats to be more equal, they will help you improve. Apologise to the team that your actions in turn 3 were selfish, you thought they would work but you admit they cost the team. They will have more respect for you.

Secondly as fans, lets stop bigging up Oscar to a level he isn't at yet. Is he doing brilliantly for a second year driver? Yes, but his inexperience and immaturity is beginning to show. Lets embrace that as perfectly normal.

Oscar is very active on social media. He will have seen all the posts claiming he is better than Lando, he will win a championship before Lando. Yet the stats don't reflect that and I don't think Oscar feels that way right now. But he feels the pressure to be what the fans preach.

Oscar needs at least another year to be fully ready. It may take even more. There is no doubt he is a future world champion, but he’s still developing the arsenal of things he will need to do that. He just wants it’s all now, last week, last August was probably later than he wanted, but how he learns to emote and react to the highs and lows of F1 is going to be crucial.

After-all, his mechanics have only got so many toes between them.

[harrygoeswest]

Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Hiiiiii! I think I announced this like 3 months ago and never finished it, but we're finally here! I actually really fucking love this story. I've never done this 'one bed' trope before, nor an enemies-to-lovers OU, because EVERYONE loves H man, right? Well, not this YN. And he's not too fond of her either. I'm really excited to share it with you. Again, what started as a one shot grew into a two-parter because I simply cannot contain myself when the ball starts rolling. Anyhoo, to my forever friend @all-things-fic, thank you as always for reading this through and making me snort at your comments and being the ultimate validator <3

Word Count: 13,261 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), vomiting, bed-sharing with a sexy man

~~~

Rain. Persistent, unabated, never-ending, relentless rain. It was all you’d heard and seen all day and you were sick of it. You’d never really minded it until today, but thanks to one shit-show after another, you were ready to relinquish it. You wanted it gone. Your summer holiday was already off to a bad start.

“Bad day?”

Where to begin?

A cabin in the Scottish Highlands had sounded like the perfect escape for a four-week break away from the city. You had work to do, deadlines to meet, but at least you could do it without being interrupted. Without the sounds of pedestrians and car horns and wayward seagulls and bike bells. Yep, the Highlands still sounded perfect, but the endless string of catastrophes made you wonder if it really was perfect or rather just a ridiculous indulgence.

No. You deserved this break. Bad day or not, the holiday was needed.

When your brother had told you a year ago that he’d bought a holiday home in the Highlands you hadn’t exactly been surprised. He and his wife had been talking about it for years, and he’d finally earned enough money through his music career to be able to do it. Sadly, with your own deadlines and packed schedule, this was the first time in said year you’d been able to find time to go.

Apparently the all-knowing entity in your life had other plans.

You were supposed to come by plane first thing this morning, but your car had broken down on the way to the airport and you spent 3 hours waiting for the AA to rescue you. You had then managed to rearrange your flight to a later one, but because of the weather, all other flights out of Bristol had been cancelled for the day. You then spent a ridiculous amount of money on a 10 hour train from Bristol to Inverness with a change at Edinburgh in between, and were now forking out on a taxi to take you the rest of the way.

At that particular point in time, a cabin in the middle of nowhere seemed like a dreadful fucking idea.

“Could say that.” You managed weakly.

The driver chuckled to himself and you tried not to squeal. “Nearly there now. Fifteen minutes or so.”

There is a God!

Forty-five minutes later he finally stopped in the middle of a single track road. Your eyelid had been twitching for half that time, and a headache was forming in your left temple.

He turned over his shoulder and flashed a grin. He was missing an incisor and three of his other teeth were gold. “This is as far as I can get you. Cabin is at the top of that hill.”

You gave him a look, then peered out the window. All you could see was rain and mud and a black night. “What hill?”

“You’ll find it. Fare is sixty.”

“Sixty quid?”

He nodded. “Scottish if you’ve got ‘em. I’m a collector.”

“We agreed on forty. And no, I don’t have any bloody Scottish notes.” A Scottish man collecting Scottish money! On what planet?!

“No, sixty.”

You muttered expletives under your breath and shoved the money at him over his shoulder.

“Y’alright gettin’ your own case, love? Don’t really want t’ get wet.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

In the shittiest, snappiest manner you could muster, you got out of the car and retrieved your luggage from the boot, slamming every door you touched. The driver immediately pulled off once the boot was closed, pipping his horn.

“Wanker!” You yelled after him.

Finding your bearings, you located the ‘hill’ he’d been talking about, forcing down your frustration at the size of the damn thing as you started up the pathway. You dragged your suitcase behind you through the mud, grateful it had a hard and waterproof plastic exterior. At least after all this you’d be able to take a shower and change into clean clothes.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to reach the cabin, thanks to not only the rain but also the brutal wind. When you finally reached the porch you fell onto it, greeted by the most intense relief you’d ever felt. You took a minute to recover from your exercise, and then fumbled around on the dark porch for the stone your brother had left the key under.

“Aha.” Delighted when you found it, you pulled the key out of the rock and shoved it in the door, unlocking it.

Heat floated over your body, as did warm, homey light. Weird. Why were the lights on?

Then did your eyes land on the thing that was most definitely out of place. 

A loud, shrill scream ripped from your body.

A man was in the cabin. A naked man. Mostly. The only thing saving him and you was the towel wrapped around his waist. Shiny back, muscly arms, damp neck, wet hair. At the sound of your wail he turned around, equally as alarmed.

“What the-?”

In his panic, the grip he had on his towel slipped, and you were given more of an eyeful than you ever bargained for. 

You screamed again and reached for the closest thing to you, then lurched it across the room at him. Then your brain caught up with you, and you pulled the door closed again, separating you from him. You were back outside in the cold.

That man wasn’t just anyone. He’d never been just anyone. He was your sister-in-law’s friend. He was your brother’s boss, to a degree. He was your worst fucking nightmare rolled into physical human form.

He was Harry fucking Styles.

This was officially the worst day of your life.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You repeated, over and over again as you paced the porch, head in your hands. You knocked into your suitcase multiple times and it ended up falling down the porch steps into a muddy puddle. You tripped over a loose piece of decking at least twice. You caught your hip on the porch bannister, too. But none of it registered with you while your brain cycled between images of Harry’s naked back and his large appendage.

How could this be happening? What had you done to deserve such a catastrophic start to your holiday? You couldn’t stay here. Not with that man. That man that you hated, and who hated you in return. This was a disaster.

You dug your phone out of your sopping handbag. No signal. 

“Oh, come on.” You hissed.

Stubborn as always, you tried to call your brother anyway. Repeatedly. Twenty times, at least, each one failing to connect. You couldn’t even leave a voicemail. You raised the phone to the sky like it was baby Simba. Still nothing.

“Fuck!”

The door swung open, and Harry said your name in a low grunt.

You swivelled, glare like a dagger. “You. Why the fuck are you here?”

“Why am I here?” He scoffed. He was clothed now, in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. “Why are you here?”

“This is my brother’s cabin! I have a key! He said I could stay here!”

“Well, guess what?” He leaned forward, arms crossed. “Holly said I could stay here, too.”

You wanted to throw your phone at his stupid face. “Fucking great.”

“There’s obviously been some misunderstanding.” He straightened.

“You don’t say…” 

His gaze narrowed. “You’re impossible.”

“At least I’m not the one who’s stupid enough to state the obvious.”

You turned away again and tried your brother one more time. The beep beep beep that told you the call had failed yet again had your stomach in knots.

“There’s no phone signal here.”

“Yes, thank you. Just go back inside.”

“No.”

“For the love of Christ, why not?”

“I’d rather see what you’re going to do with yourself.”

You turned another glare on him. “Oh, I’m so glad that the shitty situation I’ve found myself in is entertaining you, Harry. Please, mock me some more. The resulting anger might actually take the chill out of my fucking toes.”

He looked like he was about to open his mouth, but you didn’t let him.

“You know, this really has been the day from hell. It’s been a categorical disaster from start to finish, and finally getting myself here only to find you, of all people, really is the cherry on top of my whopping slice of shit pie. So please, do me this one favour, and sod off back inside.”

His jaw ticked, and he emitted a low growl before he slammed the door of the cabin and left you in the cold, wet night.

A sob wracked through you, and you flopped down on the top step just to let your body deflate for five minutes. It was so cold you were shivering. Your clothes clung to your body like sheets of ice, your lips were cracked, and a bite ate away at your toes.

You knew you couldn’t do much tonight. You’d have to wait until tomorrow, for when the storm hopefully passed, and you could call your brother to give him a gobful and then walk into the village to find a B&B or cheap hotel. You hadn’t forgotten that your train ticket was a set day return for four weeks’ time. You’d just have to wait until Harry was gone before you took your time to enjoy the cabin like you’d planned.

When you finally calmed down you dragged your suitcase out of the mud and dropped it on the driest part of the deck. You dug around for the jumper you’d brought with you and pulled it over your frozen torso. You also took your shoes and socks off and put two clean pairs on. Once you were wrapped back up in your coat, you settled on the armchair that was the least wet and tried to go to sleep.

After five minutes or so, the cabin door creaked open again.

“Come inside, please.” Harry’s voice was void of any emotion.

“No.”

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here.”

“Rather that than share a bed with you.”

“And you think I want to share a bed with you, either?”

“Then we’re both on the same page. I’m fine out here.”

“You are not fuckin’ fine out here. It’s shitting it down, for fuck’s sake, you could get a flu. Or worse.”

You hadn’t opened your eyes so you had no idea what his facial expression read. “I’m surprised you give a shit enough to care.”

“I don’t particularly, but I like your brother and I don’t want him thinking I didn’t at least try to get you to be sensible when it’s fucking biblical outside.”

“I’ll pass.”

Harry took a deep breath, and he muttered, “Bloody insufferable woman,” before he slammed the door again.

You snuggled further into the chair, shoving your hands under your face. You thought that would be the end of it, but no more than thirty seconds later the door swung back open. You pretended to ignore him, expecting a verbal taunt. Instead, all you got was scuffing noises.

Pushing down the urge to growl like he did at you, you squeezed your eyes shut and faked indifference at his huffy grunting. Until he dragged you out of the chair and hauled you into the cabin in three easy movements.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, scowling at him as he locked the door behind you.

“You can be as stubborn and petty as you like about this, but you are not staying outside in the rain. End of story.”

“I was fine!”

“You were not fine.” He folded his arms again. “Look at you, for fuck’s sake. You’re about five seconds away from catching hypothermia. You think I want that on my hands? You, of all people, needing my attention every day for the next five weeks? I don’t, by the way. I came here for a holiday, too.”

“I didn’t bring myself here to be a God damn burden to you, Harry. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why don’t you go and get in the shower, and maybe you’ll calm the fuck down.”

You inched closer to him. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Me, following your orders like some sycophant.”

He took a step closer to me. “I would, actually. It might make you somewhat tolerable.”

“Get fucked, Harry.”

“Sounds like you need that more than I do.”

You produced a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeal, and shoved at his chest once before you stalked away. “Prick.”

He hummed, entertained. “Try not to think about mine while you’re in there. I’m sure the sight of it has left you with enough to be desired.”

Too tired to argue with him anymore, you threw your middle finger at him over your shoulder.

Whether you’d been forced inside against your will or not, you really did want a shower before a permanent chill settled over you. You turned the water on and let it run hot. The second it swilled over your body you let out a helpless moan. 

You stood stoic underneath it for an indeterminate amount of time, just willing your body to warm up. The day washed away from you, worries temporarily forgotten while you soaked up as much heat as you could. Oh, it was glorious. A shower had never been so rewarding.

After a while you realised you didn’t have any of your shower stuff with you, still locked in your suitcase, and you let out a huff. You surveyed what Harry had brought with him and spent too long debating whether it was socially acceptable to wash using your mortal enemy’s shower gel. You decided against it and would properly wash in the morning.

Taking another ten minutes, you decided you were ready to face Harry again and whatever bollocks he might throw your way. You found a towel and gave your hair a dry, then wrapped it around your body. You hadn’t thought this through in your desperation to get away from him.

You stepped out of the room with purpose and marched over to where Harry had abandoned your suitcase after dragging it inside earlier, and carefully picked your way through it to find your pyjamas and toothbrush. Without giving the man even the slightest glance, you locked yourself back up in the bathroom to change and clean your teeth.

“Forget your clothes?” Harry asked at your second reappearance.

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?” You gave a roll of your eyes.

He sat straighter in the armchair he was settled into, “Why answer a question with another question?”

You ignored him. Instead you gave yourself the opportunity to actually take in your brother’s second home. You realised it was tiny. Like Tiny Home tiny. When he said he’d bought a cabin you thought he meant something like a chalet. But no, this was small. A kitchenette had been built into the right-hand wall by the front door with a fridge, a two-plate hob and a stainless steel sink. Two armchairs sat either side of a small birch table, and a double bed at the back of the room with a cherrywood wardrobe. A woven rug gave the space a homey feel, balancing the bare oak that gave foundation for the rest of the place.

A sinking feeling buried in you when you realised there wasn’t a sofa.

You rubbed a hand into your cheek, feeling slightly cheated by your brother and his wife. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Harry said into the quiet, all malice and jest lost.

“I feel like it.” You admitted, turning your stare on the bed. “I’m just tired.”

He cleared his throat and stood. “I sleep on the left.”

You refrained from giving him another eye roll and instead focussed on settling down. You left your phone on the dining table, plugged in to charge overnight, poured a glass of water which you drank in one long swig, and then returned to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

Harry had settled on the left side of the bed but with his head at the foot and his feet at the top. If he slept on the left, did that not completely defeat the purpose of his claim?

“Top and tail.”

“Yeah, no. Absolutely not.” You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I am not giving you the opportunity to stick your foot in my face at any given point in the night.”

He kissed his teeth and sat up with a scowl. “Woman, you have got some major fuckin’ trust issues.”

“With you I do, absolutely.”

You waited until he was in bed the right way up before you slipped in yourself and turned the light off. The room was cast in darkness and your eyes struggled to adjust. You faced away from Harry on your side, wriggling to find a comfortable position, and you could hear him doing the same.

His foot was definitely on your side of the bed so you kicked it away. He then tried to take the covers off you, but you were quick to snatch them back. He let out a deep sigh.

“Can I have some of the quilt, please?”

“You’ve got some.”

“I have none.”

“Bullshit.”

He ripped the covers away again, and you fought the urge to squeal.

“Give some back.”

“You have some.” He said in the same tone you had.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“I’m cold.”

“You’ve just spent an hour using up all the hot water so I refuse to believe that.”

“What is your problem?”

“You are.”

You grit your teeth. Folding your arms, you scooted as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off. Arguing with him was fruitless, it just left you angry and wired.

Tomorrow, you resolved to find somewhere, anywhere else to stay. For now, you’d try to sleep uncomfortable and coverless.

~

Had you slept?

No.

For hours you’d imprisoned yourself on the edge of the bed, cold and coverless, hugging yourself in an attempt to keep warm, and squeezing your eyes closed just praying that sleep would come. But it never did. You’d think after the day you had yesterday it would be easy to just drop off. Why would it be that simple for you?

You knew it was light outside now thanks to the inside of your eyelids. You decided then to give up. Sleep wasn’t coming.

As you opened your eyes you realised how close to the edge of the bed you were. At the same time, Harry wriggled again, further onto your side of the mattress, and his knee nudged your backside.

Oh no.

Struggling to find anything to hold onto, your body tumbled over the edge. A panicked yelp tore out of you, followed by a grunt and a thud when you hit the floor.

“Ow.” You whimpered. You’d fallen on your front, knee and toe first followed by your head. You rolled onto your back and held onto your forehead as if it might stop the pounding you felt.

Laughter started, and your eyes flew open to find Harry hovering over the side of the bed, green eyes shining. You were, actually, somewhat offended by how entertained he was. If it was acceptable to hit people, you’d be hitting him.

“You alright down there?”

“No I’m not fucking alright, Harry.”

Your own anger made the throbbing in your head worse so you stayed on your back.

“Alright, was only a question.”

“This is your bloody fault - you’re a bed hogger!”

“Yeah? Well you snore!”

“Considering I didn’t get a single second of sleep last night I don’t know how you’ve landed on that conclusion, and I can only assume you’ve made it up to piss me off.”

“You were snoring.” He said in a flat voice.

“No I wasn’t.”

The throbbing got worse again, so you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then another.

“You’ve hit your head.”

If the thought of rolling your eyes didn’t make you nauseous you’d absolutely do it. “If there was an award for Best Observationist, you’d win it.”

“Do you need ice or something?”

His voice had changed and it somewhat startled you. You peeled an eye open again to find he hadn’t moved - he was still hanging over the bed. His expression, however, was neutral.

“Yes. Please.”

He gave a curt nod and then disappeared. You closed your eyes again, willing the throbbing away.

“There isn’t any ice.”

You refrained from screaming, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. “Okay.”

“Here,” his voice was much closer, and he gave a little pat to your knee, “this might help.”

Peeling an eye open, he flashed a couple of boxes of painkillers. “Panadol.” Of course the man had branded paracetamol. The 95p boxes of Sainsbury’s own shoved in your kitchen cupboard looked shameful right about now.

“Extra strength. And that rapid relief ibuprofen.”

“You brought painkillers with you on holiday?”

He shrugged. “I’m here for a long time. Hangovers need encouragement to get fucked.”

You raised a sceptic brow. “And here I thought some magical mystery Nutri-Bullet recipe would be your saviour.”

“Funny.” He muttered.

Huh. How unlike him not to shove a witty rebuttal at you.

“Do you need help getting up or are you just gonna sit on the floor all day?”

Your scowl returned. “I’m fine.”

On shaky legs and with a fuzzy head, you grabbed the side of the bed and hauled yourself up. You weren’t sure if the sudden ringing in your ears was something you should be worried about, but you persisted.

Once sat, Harry handed you the tablet boxes and fetched a glass of water for you while you thumbed out two of each.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Please and thank you in the space of ten minutes?” He goaded. “Sounds like you’ve got a concussion.”

“My parents didn’t raise me in a barn.”

He stood with his broad arms folded across his chest while he watched you swallow down four tablets, face a mishmash of irritation and something else. You refused to believe it was concern so you attributed it to frustration. You were just ruining his holiday the same way he was ruining yours.

You decided to finish the water, and then Harry took the boxes and the glass from you. You laid back down, shielding the room and your eyes with your arms.

“Sure you don’t need a hospital?” His voice was far away.

“Yes. I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t answer, and you were thankful. Any more talking and your head might have exploded.

~

You’d fallen asleep. While you hadn’t intended to, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the respite. There was no way you would’ve been able to do anything on zero hours sleep, so a few was better than nothing.

You sat up, noticing that you’d corrected yourself direction-wise on the bed and pulled the covers over you. You must’ve done it subconsciously.

The cabin was quiet. Almost eerily so. There was no sign of Harry anywhere. The only sign that he’d been there at all was his own suitcase tucked away in the corner. No sound came from the bathroom, and all you could hear outside was birds.

Birds. Not rain.

You scrambled out of bed towards the front door and hauled it open, but it was locked. Harry had locked you in. You found the key your brother had left for you on the table and put it to use.

It was glorious outside. Not a cloud in the sky, blue everywhere, green even more so. And it was warm. Summer dress warm. Your feet itched to go outside, but you knew you needed to take it easy. The headache hadn’t completely subsided, but it was tolerable. Barely there. A shower and some food would fix it.

You closed the door and locked it again, determined to start your day. Steadily.

You were about to head straight for the shower when you noticed it. A brown paper bag trapped under a pretty mug, and a jar of instant coffee wedged inside it. The mug lived here - you recognised it from Holly’s old flat. But the greasy brown bag did not. You noticed the letters GF scrawled on the front.

He remembered.

Warning bells started screaming inside your head as you plucked the bag out and opened it up. The smell of cooled buttery pastry wafted from inside, and you pulled out the biggest croissant you’d ever seen.

The message was clear as day. Eat and get some caffeine in you.

This was bad. Angry Harry you could deal with any day of the week at any time of day. You could even cope with jester Harry, because you gave just as good as you got. But this? Base-level concern? It threw you for a loop.

Regardless, you were starving. So you boiled the kettle and made your coffee just how you like it as you tore off pieces of pastry and gobbled it down. While you waited for your coffee to cool once your croissant was demolished, you took a quick shower.

Half an hour later you were out the door and feeling a hell of a lot better than you had done for weeks. You wandered down into the village, the sun a glowing comfort on your bare skin.

You had a mission today: alternative accommodation.

You kept an eye on your phone for patches of signal, and called your brother whenever you found some. He never answered. Part of you wondered if he was ignoring you, and if that was the case you were going to have a very big problem. He only ignored you if he was avoiding you.

And that wasn’t even your biggest problem.

“I’m sorry, we’re full.” The receptionist at the final B&B said with barely an ounce of emotion.

“The sign outside said you had vacancies.”

“I just sold the last one over the phone. Haven’t had time to change it.” She gave me a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

You fought a petulant sigh. “Do you know where else I can stay? I’ve tried every B&B here and no one has any vacancies.”

“Why don’t you try an AirBnB.” She suggested with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “You young people seem to love those.”

Ah, so this was a territorial issue. You gave her a flat glare and left without another word.

Yet again, you found yourself in a rut. Your good mood had been successfully wiped away. Maybe you would check AirBnB, but the thought of spending another obscene amount on accommodation filled you with a sickly feeling.

Your phone started ringing, much to your surprise. Holly. “Is my brother ignoring me?”

“I don’t know, but if he was, he probably wouldn’t tell me.” She laughed, always a fan of your no-nonsense approach. “I thought I’d call since I haven’t heard from you. Did you make it there alive?”

“Alive is not the word I’d use to describe my current state. It’s also impossible to call someone when the phone signal is worse than a World War II air raid shelter.”

Holly cackled. “You’re such a nerd. What’s wrong?”

“Either you’re playing dumb to avoid my wrath or you’re very stupid.”

She gasped your name but she was most definitely entertained. “What do you mean?”

“Harry is here. Using your holiday home.”

An extended period of silence followed, completed with a breathy, “Oh… shit.”

Oh shit, indeed.

“Well,” she seemed to shake herself, “it can’t be that bad.”

This one was truly off her rocker. “Can’t be that bad? Holly, how many times have you been in a room with me and Harry at the same time?”

“Plenty.”

“Exactly. How many times have we had a fight whilst in said same room together?”

“Almost always.”

“Not almost always, just always. We. Do. Not. Get. On.”

“Oh, babe, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”

“There’s only one fucking bed!”

Holly went quiet for a minute, and you realised you’d earned the attention of a few passers by. You sat down on a nearby bench, wary of the throb in your head getting worse.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked.

That set you off. You launched into your shitty day from yesterday, from the car breakdown to the taxi driver to hitting your head this morning. Words without breath had never left you so fast and the feeling you were rewarded with after was less than satisfactory. Deflation. Sadness.

“Oh, hun, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going.” You were certain she was lying about that last sentence but you didn’t interrupt her. “I’ll get in touch with Harry and tell him to rein it in.”

“I don’t need you to curb the man on my behalf, Hol. I can handle him myself. I just… I really wish he wasn’t here.”

“Do you want me to make him leave?”

A rare sight of guilt crept its way into the centre of your stomach. You battled the urge to say yes, because you knew if Holly asked him to, he would absolutely go. “No… hardly fair. He was here first.”

“Yeah but I bet you would’ve been if all those things didn’t go wrong yesterday.”

You grunted. You were supposed to arrive just before 9am yesterday morning, not close to 11pm. “Don’t make him leave. I’m a bitch but I’m not a complete cunt.”

“You’re not either of those things by any stretch. My friend just happens to know how to really rattle your cage.”

Ain’t that the truth. “I’m trying to find a B&B or something but they’re all full.”

“Oh, please don’t spend more money.”

“I can’t stay in your cabin, Hol. I didn’t sleep last night and that man does not know how to share a queen bed.”

“It’s actually a three-quarter bed.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned.

“Look, we wanted it to be as spacious as possible there. We didn’t anticipate two people who claim to hate each other having to share it. It’s for cuddling.”

That urge to smack someone reared its ugly head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She laughed from the back of her throat, and as irritated as you were it did make you smile. “Take a long walk, babe. If you’re in the village there’s a great ice cream place near the church that’ll make you forget all about He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can say Harry, for fuck’s sake.”

She screamed as if she’d been burned, teasing you.

“Shut up.” You actually managed to laugh. “Fine. I’ll go find some ice cream. But if they’ve got WiFi I will absolutely be looking for an AirBnB.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

“Do me a favour and tell my brother to stop being a wuss.”

“Oh, come on, you know he can’t handle your wrath. You can tell him yourself, anyway.”

You started looking around to see if they’d actually come up and were just loitering nearby to piss you off.

“What?”

“We were going to surprise you but I think you might murder us if we did. We’re on our way to you. My Nanna will be coming, too - we’ve got a table booked at the pub in the village.”

Unbelievable. “You little minx.” 

One of the reasons Holly and your brother bought a holiday home in Scotland was to be able to spend more time with Holly’s family. While she grew up in London and has never left it, her mum’s side of the family are all in Scotland.

Holly giggled, obviously delighted with herself. “Sorry. We’re set to arrive in about two hours.”

“But where are you staying?”

“My Nan’s house.”

“Not got a spare room, has she?” You mumbled.

“I know you don’t mean that, but she doesn’t. We’re staying on her pullout.”

“Damn.”

“We’re gonna go straight there and then come to you afterwards, alright?”

You took a deep breath and stood up from your bench. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”

“Byeee!”

You were already making a beeline for the ice cream shop by the time she put the phone down.

It was a cute little parlour, like something straight out of a movie. Retro tiles covered the walls and floor in pinks and yellows, two long display freezers to the left full to the brim with every single flavour one could ever imagine. Tables spread across the right and spilled onto the street, and booths in the corner each had a miniature jukebox on top.

“How can I help you?” A man behind the counter asked, dressed in a full uniform complete with the little hat.

“Hi, um,” you gave him the best smile you could, even if you were overwhelmed, “do you have any gluten free cones?”

“Sure,” he gestured to the stand on the top with a variety of cones, from small to ridiculously large in size, “just this one.”

The cone in question was the most pathetic-looking of them all. You did your absolute best to hide your disappointment. “Great, then I’ll have one of those. Chocolate, please.”

“Which type?” He lifted a brow.

You realised then that there were about ten different chocolate flavours. “Er… which is the best one in your opinion?”

That perked him up. He spent the next five minutes listing off reasons why the chocolate and hazelnut flavour was his most popular of all his options.

“I guess that’s the one I want, then.” You forced another smile.

“Coming right up.”

Something made you shiver, but it wasn’t a gust of wind or the freezers you stood by.

“At least try and act like you’re excited about it.” A deep voice murmured, far too close to your ear for your liking.

You practically hissed and took a very purposeful step away. “Jesus, Harry.”

He laughed, but the sound wasn’t spiteful like it usually would be. “Only you could make ice cream seem rubbish.”

“I don’t think ice cream is rubbish,” Was your only retort. You just wished gluten free cones didn’t look so fucking sad.

The owner handed you your cone and you paid him in cash. “Do you have WiFi in here?”

“Sure. Password’s on the wall up there.” He pointed at a laminated sign, and then turned his attention to Harry. “Hey, aren’t you that guy?”

Your cue to leave.

While Harry had an awkward conversation with the parlour owner about which guy he was, you connected to the internet and took a seat on the patio outside with your back to the sun. A satisfied hum left you at the warmth on your skin. You concentrated on demolishing your ice cream before you made a mess of yourself.

Unfortunately, Harry decided today wasn’t the day he was going to leave you alone. He sat down opposite you with a three-flavour cone, the colours unsettlingly unnatural. He looked uncomfortable, and this time it wasn’t because of you.

“What on Earth is that?”

“This is a masterpiece.” At least he could still behave like an idiot even when he’d been ‘spotted’.

“It looks disgusting.”

You watched him with a deep-seated discomfort as he shamelessly licked around his cone. Unfiltered moans came out of his mouth, but you were certain he was acting up for your benefit.

“What flavours are they?” You just had to ask.

“Mint chocolate, bubblegum and ginger.”

“Ginger?” You almost choked on a hazelnut. “Sir, you have a serious problem.”

He laughed again, that same obnoxiously easy sound as before. “Did you just call me sir?”

“I did and I immediately regret it.”

He made a noise, an amused squeak of sorts. “Why did you look so horrified by yours, anyway?”

You shifted in your chair, having just popped the end of the cone in your mouth. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the owner wasn’t listening, pleased to find him distracted by a large family. “The gluten free options for cones was utter shite.”

“How so?”

“Well, he only had one type, and it was poxy as shit.”

He snorted. “I thought it looked small. I don’t imagine it being a lot of fun.”

You were immediately reminded of the croissant he’d picked up for you. You knew that you needed to say thank you, even if it did feel like taking a punch in the gut. “Thank you for the pastry.”

He paused mid-lick as if you’d just spoken a foreign language. He looked ridiculous and almost child-like, green eyes wide and pupils so narrow thanks to the sun they were barely visible. He rescued a drip before he made a mess. “Welcome. How is your…” he tapped his temple.

“Yeah, better.”

“Good.”

You returned to silence, and you got busy looking for a new place to stay. The options were… lacking. You knew the decision to go away during the school holidays would be a silly one anyway, but you wanted the heat. You wanted a summer holiday. Not a cold and wet one. But at such late notice in an area with limited options to begin with, all that was really left were large houses for groups of ten or places miles and miles away that would cost yet more money to travel to. The only other thing you could think of was buying a tent and pitching up on a nearby campsite, but you fucking hated tents and camping.

As time wore on and Harry’s ice cream disappeared, you noticed him growing more restless. You glanced up a couple of times to find him with his head down, but you eventually figured out the source of his discomfort. He was shooting looks at something over your shoulder while constantly readjusting his ball cap.

You straightened in your seat and twisted yourself slightly to get a better look.

“Don’t turn around.” He muttered without looking at you.

You frowned. “Why?”

He never gave you an answer so you did it anyway. A couple of tables over someone was doing a very bad job at hiding their phone.

For God’s sake. 

“Do you want to swap seats?” You offered.

He gave you a startled look, and admittedly you were surprised at your own suggestion. “No.”

“You sure? The back of your head is way less appealing than the front of it.”

You could see the confusion spread across his face and you wished immediately that you could take your words back. He was too wound up to mention it now, but you knew he definitely would in the future.

“They’ve already got about fifteen minutes worth of pictures, there’s no point moving now.” He huffed and readjusted the hat on his head once more, eyes downcast.

You pursed your lips in thought. After a moment you readjusted your seat so that you were hopefully positioned right in the way. Harry gave you a blank look, eyes still darting to the people behind you.

“Do you want to go?”

“Not particularly.”

You knew what he meant. He shouldn’t have to leave just because other people didn’t know how to behave like normal human beings.

A minute later the table behind you stood and left, so something had at least worked.

“Thank you.” He said it so quietly you nearly missed it. “Your lack of subtlety was almost entertaining.”

You weren’t offended by that. You hadn’t meant to be subtle. “I know we don’t get on but I respect your privacy. You should’ve asked them to delete it.”

“Then it just makes me look like a prick.”

“But you are a prick.”

He broke into another laugh. That laugh that held no malice or spite. The one he’d only debuted today. Then he slid back to stoicism. “I’ll be all over the Daily Mail again tomorrow anyway.”

Something weird happened. Anger materialised in your chest, and it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling in the slightest. What was unusual was that it came on Harry’s behalf. Usually you felt this way because of Harry, not for him.

You cleared your throat. “It’s okay to tell people to fuck off every once in a while, Harry.”

“Not when you’re me, it isn’t.”

“It is when people don’t know how to set boundaries.”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” He readjusted his cap again and sunk further into his seat. “Not the first time I’ve been spotted on holiday.”

“With a mystery woman, no less.”

He snorted. “Sorry in advance.”

“For what?”

“You’re about to become the most interesting person on the planet. I’d privatise your Instagram.”

“It already is. Nor is it very interesting.”

“Just… I don’t know. I know what they’re like.”

“You think I give a shit what a bunch of people on the internet think about me?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Have I ever given a shit what anyone else has thought about me?”

He tipped his head. “No.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s their boundaries I’m worried about.”

“Don’t be. If those pictures do make it anywhere, I’ll have no problem telling the next person to fuck off if it comes to it.”

The smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Then I really hope for their sake that there isn’t a next time.”

~

You hadn’t left the parlour until you’d come up with a solution to your living arrangement. It took longer than you’d like, but eventually you settled for the only option; in two weeks you’d let Harry have the cabin and move into an AirBnB a few towns over. A bungalow this time with a very big bed. You’d had to fork out a deposit since it was a booking of more than 7 nights, which put another lovely dent in your bank balance. You were really trying not to think about it. 

Harry hadn’t passed comment when you told him. He just gave a blank stare and a curt nod, which was very unlike him. When it came to you, he’d never had any problem parting with his opinions.

You’d been ambushed on your way back to the cabin by your brother and Holly. After changing and freshening up you all walked down to the pub together to meet Holly’s Nanna. You had met her at the wedding but only briefly. Your brother and Holly’s special day had been somewhat dampened by the fact that Harry materialised again whenever you forgot about him and ended up drinking yourself into an early bedtime. The next morning you were rewarded with the worst hangover of your entire life.

Nanna was amazing. One of those larger than life women who weren’t afraid to drop the c word a couple of times without so much as batting an eyelid, and using Malibu as an excuse for a good time. You’d been seated on a round table which relieved you to no end. You were sandwiched between Nanna and your brother which meant there was a decent amount of distance between you and Harry.

“I need you to tell me something.” Nanna patted your arm, giving you her full attention.

It was like being addressed by royalty. “Anything.”

“I hear there’s a story about your brother involving nappies and toothpaste. A serial offence. He won’t tell me and Holly conveniently doesn’t know about it.”

You gave your brother a look.

“Please don’t.” He begged.

“But Nanna asked so nicely.”

“You’re about to embarrass me in front of the man I work for?”

You don’t look at Harry. “It’s not like you haven’t managed that all by yourself on previous occasions.”

“Yeah, don’t stop on my account.” Harry coughed, battling laughter.

“Great, we’re all on the same page.” You grinned. You turned back to Nanna, “Once upon a time, my little brother had to sleep in a crib and wear nappies just like all the other babies. He was cute, it should be said. I have a picture on my phone somewhere of him running around the garden with no clothes on.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and sunk into his seat with a scowl. Holly gave him a patronising pat on the shoulder.

“Anyway, beside the point. Like most toddlers he was an absolute tyrant, compared to me - I was an angel.”

“Hard to believe.” Harry muttered.

“Aye,” Nanna shot him a look. She’d been smitten with him all night until that point.

“Don’t worry about it - we’re in an ongoing feud.” You brushed the matter away and continued with your story. “During his reign of tyranny, he adopted a very obscure but passionate obsession with toothpaste. Colgate Cool Stripe only - no other product lived up to his expectations. It all started when, one day, our mother accidentally used adult toothpaste instead of the toddler stuff. An uphill battle began.

“Any time he had to clean his teeth, he’d try and use Colgate instead of the kiddy stuff, and mum or dad would fight with him until he surrendered in a screaming fit and had a toothbrush forced into his face hole.”

Someone sniggered, and your chest inflated. Making people laugh had always pleased you.

“His addiction got so bad, one night he managed to escape from his cot and into Mum and Dad’s bathroom. They found him on the floor with an empty tube and Colgate smushed all over his cute little face. Hours later he had a terrible accident. I won’t go into graphic detail since we’ve just had our dinner.”

Nanna started laughing, a throaty and hoarse sound. Given the amount of times she’d excused herself for a cigarette, you attributed that habit to the unique noise. “And this happened more than once?”

You nodded. “They tried locking it in the cabinet a few times, but he’d always find it. Eventually they changed tactics and just bought Aquafresh instead.”

Nanna hummed and gave him a pointed look. “I’ve always thought you were a picky bastard.”

“Nanna,” Holly gasped, shaking with laughter. She leaned her forehead against her husband’s shoulder.

“I can’t be that picky if I ended up with your granddaughter.”

Holly threw her hands up. “Does anyone else want to bully me today? Between that and being called very stupid I think I might have room for one more insult.”

“Your shoes don’t go with your dress.” Nanna said.

After a beat of silence, the table erupted into laughter.

The waiter returned to offer dessert, which you would usually forego since pubs rarely tended to offer gluten free choices without putting up a fight. You’d learned to live a sad, dessert-less existence. But everyone else was having one so you succumbed to peer pressure.

“What ice cream flavours do you have?”

“For the sundae?” The young girl asked with a confused frown.

“No, I’m coeliac so I can’t have it.”

“Oh,” her cheeks turned pink, which was not your intention, “sorry. Um, just the usual flavours, then.”

Neopolitan.

“Great, can I have two scoops of chocolate.”

“Sure.”

She was very quick to hurry off. Something bothered you about that whole exchange but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Aren’t you bored of chocolate ice cream?” Harry asked, but he was fiddling with his napkin rather than looking at you.

“Never.”

Holly kicked his leg under the table but you pretended not to notice.

After the bill was settled, which Harry tried to sneak off and pay for without telling anyone, you bid goodbye to each other and sent your brother, Holly and Nanna off together in a taxi. The waitress hadn’t stopped giving you wary glances ever since you asked for ice cream, and you still couldn’t place what went wrong. You might have been a little short with her but it wasn’t meant with any malice.

It didn’t really dawn on you what was wrong until you were walking up the hill to the cabin with Harry.

A curdling feeling in your stomach had you feeling very queasy very quickly.

“Oh no.” You mumbled, keeping your gaze on the grass below you. Your vision swung and you struggled to keep your balance.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, turning back to you. He’d been a couple of metres ahead of you for the entire walk so you didn’t have to force a conversation.

You sat down on the grass to keep yourself gravitated, but it was no good. You weren’t nauseous because you were dizzy, you were dizzy because you were sick.

You spent the next ten minutes vomiting into the bushes.

Harry had kept a relative distance from you while you were sick, only handing you a bottle of water when you seemed to give up the last of your stomach contents and take a big breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a cautious voice.

Unattractively, you swilled your mouth out and then necked the remaining contents of the bottle. “Yeah, fine.”

“What happened?”

“I think something went wrong at dinner.”

“What do you mean?”

You gave him a levelled look, trying to communicate with your eyes. It seemed like a ridiculous idea considering you could barely communicate together with words, let alone silent glances.

“Ah… did it say gluten free on the menu?”

You nodded.

“Did you tell them?”

You shook your head. Sometimes you liked to put faith in humanity and believe you’d be fine putting yourself in the hands of others. When you were dining with practical strangers, making a fuss about your condition made you feel like a twat, so you kept quiet about it. Now you wish you’d said something.

“Are you gonna make a complaint?”

You shook your head furiously and readjusted yourself to sit back on your arse rather than your knees. “Happens all the time, sadly.”

“That girl knew they’d fucked up, didn’t she?”

“You saw that?”

“I saw you looking at her a lot after the ice cream thing.”

You made a strange noise. “It is what it is. I don’t blame her for not saying anything. For all she knows I could be going home unscathed.”

“But you’re not.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’m not into making a scene.”

“You could’ve been seriously ill.”

“I know that.”

“If you don’t tell them they fucked up, how are they going to know to stop it from happening to someone else in the future?”

You took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. You and Harry had made progress today, on some weird level, but this was not part of that progress. “Fine. I’ll do something about it tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.”

“Leave it alone, Harry!” You finally snapped. “How I handle my health issues is none of your fucking business, especially when you haven’t got a fucking clue what it’s like to have them. Just drop it.”

His jaw ticked. “Fine.”

He disappeared up the hill and into the cabin without so much as another word.

You collapsed onto your back and let a tight sob wrack through you.

You contemplated what the fuck you were doing. This holiday had been nothing but a shit show from start to day 2 and you didn’t want to do it anymore. You should’ve gone home this morning. You’d refused to quit so early on given how long it had been since you had any real time off, but the universe was clearly working against you and you wished you hadn’t bothered.

As it always did, a second round of vomiting ensued, and you were back on your hands and knees hacking up bile while your stomach protested. You cried more as you threw up.

As the convulsions subsided you collapsed onto your back again, but the smell of it was starting to affect you. Slowly, you stood on shaky legs and attempted to make your way up to the cabin.

You hadn’t realised, but Harry was standing at the top of the hill wearing a frown, hands shoved into his pockets. When you caught sight of him you were ashamed. You knew what he’d said came from a good place, but it just really ground your gears when people who had no idea what it was like tried to tell you how to handle it.

He made his way back to you and silently placed his hand on the small of your back. It was warm and unfamiliar, but you couldn’t work out if the trembling from you was because of that or because you were just sick.

“How much more did you see?” You asked, helpless.

He gave you a startled look, like he was shocked to hear you so vulnerable. “Enough.”

You sighed and kept your gaze on the floor, trying not to fall over.

“Do you have any medication or anything?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t really work like that.”

Once you got to the cabin you headed straight for the bathroom and changed into your pyjamas. You then poured yourself a glass of water and took it to bed with you. You were asleep within seconds.

~

You slept through the night that night. When you woke you felt a shit-ton better than you had the night before, and it left you with a smile on your face. You wriggled your legs and toes underneath the sheets and stretched your arms.

You realised the bed was empty, but when you peeled an eye open it was obvious Harry had slept on his side at some point. You sat up to an empty room. There was no sign of Harry, again.

You didn’t know much about Harry’s daily routine but you would put money on him being an early morning runner. You shivered at the thought.

He appeared whilst you were in the middle of your second round of toast. It was the only thing you could think to try and stomach after yesterday’s disaster. Harry was in regular clothes, not running attire. You owed yourself a fiver.

“Ah,” he paused at the sight of you eating toast, and limply lifted his hand. The same greasy brown paper bag rustled in his grip.

“Don’t be shy.” You patted the table after swallowing your mouthful. “I’ll still eat it.”

“You’re that hungry?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what happens when you’re forced to empty your entire stomach contents.”

His nose wrinkled. “Right.”

You took a sip of coffee while he made himself comfortable in the seat opposite you. 

“How do you feel?”

“Well, I slept the night through and didn’t hit my head this morning which is a major improvement on yesterday.”

“That’s something. Do you feel right enough to go out?”

“If I weren’t on holiday I’d be right back to work, Harry. No rest for the wicked and all.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Okay. I was gonna go down to the lake… it’s really warm out.”

“Are you telling me, or is that an invitation?”

He picked his pastry apart. “Both? I don’t know, it might do you some good.”

Concern? From your nemesis? This was bad. “Oh, don’t go coy on me, Harry. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Knew I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“That’s more like it.”

His mouth lifted at the corner for the shortest fraction of a second.

“Is it pebbly or sandy?”

An olive branch.

“Both?”

The worst kind of lake beach, then. “The type that calls for a special type of shoe.”

He grimaced. “I know.”

“It’s fine. We make do.” You pronounced, and stood from the table with your dirty things. “Give me 20 minutes and we’ll go.”

~

“That alright?”

You peered up at the man blocking the sun with a pinched look. He stood before you in a faded white t-shirt and board shorts, holding an ice cream cone with a single chocolate scoop on top.

“As long as it’s the right cone, it’s perfect.”

“I double checked.” He promised as he handed it to you, and then sat with his own.

This was day four on the beach by the lake. While you and Harry spent the time there together, you did your own thing. He spent most of his time in the water like a fucking fish, and you spent yours on a towel with a book and enough food to feed the 5,000.

You’d found a tolerable medium with Harry. In the day you gave each other your needed space, and at night time you tried not to touch each other in bed. Or smother each other. So far it had worked well.

You hadn’t seen Holly or your brother since that night at dinner. They’d actually been visiting for a relative’s birthday party and had already gone home, leaving you and Harry to suffer together.

“I think you’re running low on your special bread.”

You snorted and covered your mouth. ‘Special bread’ made you sound like some kind of escaped lunatic.

“I don’t know why I said it like that.” Harry shook his head. “But the fact remains.”

“We’re running low on a lot.”

“Maybe we should go shopping.”

You groaned. This is what your life had come to: grocery shopping with a celebrity.

“I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

“Where even is the nearest supermarket?”

“I don’t know - I went shopping on the way here.”

“So did I.”

Has there ever been a more ridiculous conversation?

Harry found his phone and checked for signal, soon letting out a soft sigh. “Five weeks without WiFi was a stupid idea.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

You decided to check a map on the notice board outside the public toilets on the lake site and decided there must be a supermarket in the nearest town. Harry drove you out into the Scottish countryside following his sat-nav’s directions to the closest town.

It was a little odd being in the same car as him. While your brother’s work relationship and subsequent marriage had brought him into your life for many a family gathering, you’d never found yourself in quite such a confined space as this. Apart from the bed situation. You were certain he was being quiet on your behalf, because silence was better than small talk. The decision to go shopping had proven that much.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered the second you entered the supermarket.

You followed his nervous gaze to a man with a camera doing a shitty job at hiding. “Go back to the car if you want to.”

“Hardly fair.”

“Being uncomfortable isn’t fair.” You insisted. “Go take a drive and be back here in half an hour. I don’t mind.”

He sighed and handed you the list you’d prepared before leaving. “I’ll be back.”

“Yes, please don’t use this opportunity to abandon me here.”

He smirked. “Don’t put ideas in my head.” He took his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his card. “Use that.”

You frowned at it, and then him in turn. “I don’t mind paying for it.”

“Pay with my card and then send me half when you find signal or internet or whatever.” He turned away, but threw, “Half an hour,” over his shoulder.

You had to take a moment to collect yourself. Now you weren’t grocery shopping with a celebrity, you were using one’s credit card.

Before you started your shopping, you had one more thing you had to do. Stalking the man who was stalking your reluctant companion was easy because he didn’t try very hard to be subtle. You tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around with a bewildered look on his face. “Yes?”

“Delete them.”

~

True to his word, Harry returned half an hour later with a confusing smile. “Guess what I found.”

You let him take the bags out of your hands to shove them in the boot of his car. “What?”

“A fucking Costa.”

“No way…”

“Yes way.” He grinned.

“Where?”

“Literally around the corner.” He thumbed in that general direction. “I got two ‘cause I didn’t know which one you liked.”

“As long as it’s got coffee in it, I’ll consume it.”

Sure enough, two starkly different iced coffees sat in the cup holders in his central console. 

“Which one do you want?” You asked. He did buy them after all.

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

“Please pick one.”

“No.”

“Harry.”

“Fine.” He plucked one at random and started drinking as he pulled off. “Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you.” And you meant it, too.

Silence settled between you again as you slurped away at your coffee. It was comfortable this time. You put the window down and stuck your arm out to feel the breeze through your fingers.

“Do you ever wonder how we got so…”

You looked over at him with a curious expression, but he never finished his sentence. “What?”

Harry shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Oh, come on, Harry.” You poked his arm. “You’ve never been one to mince your words in front of me before. Don’t start now.”

His lips twitched with a smile, but it was quickly replaced by something else. A kind of sad contemplation. “I don’t want to ruin a rare nice day.”

Now you were the one struggling to find words. Animosity was just the default practice for you and Harry when you were around each other. After so many years of battling over often ridiculous things, he was right. This was a rare nice day. You hadn’t argued once. Come to think of it, you hadn’t argued at all since the day you were sick. That little spat on the hill was the last one.

But curiosity ate away at you. What was he going to say that had the potential to ruin your good time? Knowing Harry, it could be any number of things.

“I promise I won’t lose my shit if you tell me.”

His face lit up with amusement, but he never laughed. “Shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Right there, in that single moment, you were reminded just why the world had an obsession with the man sitting beside you. Even in the blandest setting, Harry Styles looked like the man who would promise you everything you’ve ever wanted and be able to deliver it to you. The man who held enough charisma both on and off stage for a hundred other men. The man with pretty eyes and pretty pink lips. The man who looked damn good whether he was clean-shaven or harbouring two weeks of scruff like he was now. The man who would spoil you to no end, who would give you a life of comfort and stability, who would drop everything at a second’s notice to be yours. Fuck, he looked like the man who might even die for you.

You’d seen Harry in love and the man gave his whole fucking heart and soul to the person he was with. His inherent attractiveness was just a bonus.

“Tell me, please.” You tried again.

He considered it for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. Eventually he sighed, “Do you ever wonder how things managed to get so bad? Between us?”

Ah.

A loaded question, indeed.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

He glanced your way, jaw suddenly tense. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t tend to wonder about it because I haven’t forgotten at all how we did.”

“Walk me through it.”

“Are you sure you want that?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from the most honest woman I know.”

You were biding your time, mulling over your response. Perhaps this would ruin your nice day, but this was the most open conversation the two of you were ever going to have. Not talking about it would be both a missed opportunity and a disservice to yourself.

“Okay. You’re not going to like it, though.”

“I didn’t expect to.”

You took a deep breath. “The first time I met you didn’t go at all how I expected it to. In hindsight I guess, to you, I would’ve just been a footnote. Your friends have other friends you probably meet all the time and I was just one of the next hundred. Holly and my brother had only just started dating, but Holly and I got on so well we started doing things together as friends without him. She invited me to lunch with… you know, the usual suspects.”

He nodded once, slowly. The usual suspects he wasn’t speaking to anymore for various different reasons. You didn’t keep tabs on Harry’s life by choice, but Holly and the internet provided more about it than you cared for.

“Maybe you were just young. Or maybe there was something different that I just missed or didn’t understand, but you weren’t at all like I expected you to be. Everyone - my brother, Holly, my parents -, everyone said you were amazing. ‘The nicest boy you’ll ever meet’. And sure, you were nice. Charming, even. And you had everyone’s undivided attention, including Holly’s. And mine. But Holly’s more so.

“That girl loves you. And I watched her love you up close and personal and it was amazing and beautiful and I really wanted her to give just even a portion of that love to my brother. And she did, but it didn’t come without a fight.

“I didn’t care that you spent most of that lunch ignoring everyone else at the table. Or maybe I did. I just knew that you only cared about Holly’s undivided attention and she had no quarrels giving it to you. There was a time I thought you might be secretly in love with each other,” you laughed at the reminder because it seemed stupid now, “but when I brought it up with her she laughed so hard she cried and then pretended to vomit.”

“Damn,” Harry produced an offended laugh. “Didn’t know I was that repulsive.”

“Anyway, it didn’t stop her from loving you. Never has. Soon after, I spent a week with her and my brother in Spain on some all-inclusive thing. Before you ask, I was forced to go. Being a third-wheel is absolutely not my style.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think it sounded like you.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Anyway, I watched Holly send constant photos, messages, gifs, any and all digital media to you while we were on that holiday, cataloguing the entire thing. I don’t think you realise how many times I heard oh Harry’s gonna love this. But what got me is you never replying to her. Not once. Her phone screen was just a sea of blue messages against a backdrop of silence. At one point I considered she’d got the wrong number, but then you texted her the day we left with something really dull and generic and I really wanted to hit you.”

“I don’t remember this at all.” He admitted, face paled.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re a busy man. I reminded myself of that a lot to start off with, but the whole thing became a recurring pattern. Maybe you think I’m stupid and it’s a bit of an overreaction for it, but I’m quite observant when I want to be. You’re Holly’s best friend, even if she’s not yours. Every time she says it, it’s like she’s been given the greatest gift in the entire world. And she’s such a bright, incredible person. She’s my best friend. Not just because she’s married to my brother, but because she’s the best person I’ve ever met and nothing will ever change that.

“Over the years I’ve watched countless messages and phone calls from her to you go unanswered, seen her face turn down with sadness when you don’t call her back or text out a reply. She deserves more than that. 

“I’ve noticed you do it to my brother, too. I know he works for you so maybe it’s not the same, but it’s safe to say that in their house, Harry Styles isn’t a name that lights up their phone screens very often. Ever.”

Harry fidgeted a little and cleared his throat. “All this time I thought I’d done something to you.”

“No. Worse. You continually managed to upset my best friend, even if you didn’t know it, and in turn you upset me.”

“Then I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Harry. She’ll never admit that she’s hurt by your silence because she doesn’t want to lose you. This is why we’re so very different. I don’t hang around for people who don’t appreciate the good they have in their life. I’m a good person, and Holly is an even better one. She deserves more than your attention when she’s only sat in front of you.”

“You’re right. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are.”

His lips twitched again. “The next time I’m in the village with signal I’ll call her. Promise.”

“Don’t promise me. Promise yourself, and her. One day she might snap and decide she doesn’t want to wait for months at a time to hear from you. Because hearing about you through my brother doesn’t count.”

“I know. I get it, I really do…”

“Good. Now, my turn.” You let out a long breath and turned in your seat. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you-,”

“You called me both insufferable and intolerable in the space of five minutes when I got here.”

“Let me finish.” He said, exasperated. “I don’t hate you, I’m scared of you.”

“Calling someone intolerable because you’re scared of them doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, let’s put it this way. While perhaps you were right, at first I thought you were just another friend of a friend who’d made an appearance for uncertain reasons, it became apparent very quickly that you weren’t going anywhere. It also became very apparent that you were not my biggest fan. That first lunch was one of a kind because you barely said a word. Every other time after that, which I now realise happened to be family-oriented, you hardly shut up.

“I’ve always noticed it. You command the attention of everyone in the room. You’re a storyteller. You could turn an anecdote about a trip to the petrol station into a fairytale. You give everyone in the room your undivided attention, and when I realised you never gave it to me, well… safe to say I was wounded. Holly talked you up to high heaven. Your brother loves you. My own mother loves you even though we don’t get on.

“There’s something about you. And the fact that the only attention you ever gave me was a dirty look or a snippy remark made me petty. So I started giving it back, and I think the more I did it, the more I lost sight of the kind of person you actually are, because I only focused on the side you showed to me.”

He turned into the driveway of the cabin, and you thought he was done. But when the engine shut off, he said one last thing.

“In one of your many little outbursts you said I’ve got a severe case of oosoom syndrome. I never bothered to look it up because I didn’t want to know what kind of idiot you thought I was, but it’s just clicked.”

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

He nodded and turned to you with a calm gaze. “I get it now.” He wasn’t just talking about the idiom.

“Good.”

~

The rain was back and heavier than ever. The ground surrounding the cabin was a swamp, the hill that led down to the village was indiscernible thanks to the downpour, and the day was dark and moody. Inside the cabin it was muggy and humid and you felt ridiculous sitting at the dining table in a vest and denim shorts, but you were.

Harry sitting opposite you looked more rugged than usual. His hair was pulled back with a clip, his stubble was shifting into a beard and his clothes were wrinkled.

“Hmm…” He gave an obnoxious tap on his chin.

You rolled your eyes and sunk into the seat. “Just put me out of my misery and show me your cards.”

He laughed, peering at you with a lightness in his eyes that was so unfamiliar it almost had you shell shocked. “Fine.” He placed his hand on the table showcasing his win.

It was day three of this charade. It hadn’t stopped raining and all you’d done was cycle between card games and Monopoly. He always won. You were so fed up of him winning that this was the last straw.

You stood and swiped his hand off the table so that they landed in a flurry on the wooden cabin floor. 

“Hey…” he pouted.

“That was childish of me, I’m sorry.” You groaned, and crouched down to pick them up. “I’m so bored, Harry. I think I’m going mad. We don’t even have a TV. We’re in the middle of nowhere with a pack of cards missing the Ace of Spades and Queen of Hearts and an old beat up Monopoly box with half the properties missing.”

He blinked at me. “I know this. I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Sorry.” You muttered. “When I’m frustrated I just state the obvious.”

“But I thought that was my job.”

You rolled your head back and sighed at the ceiling. “I need to do something. Anything. I don’t want to sit in here anymore. I need air.”

“It’s pissing it down.”

“I’m aware. You have a car… just humour me for a bit. An hour tops.”

“You want me to drive you around for an hour? In a smaller space than we’re already in?”

“Okay, fine,” you sat back down in your chair and attempted to plead with the normal side of him, the non-celebrity side, “what if… when me and my brother were little and we went away with Mum and Dad, if the weather was crap like this we’d get in the car and drive to the nearest supermarket. And we’d have lunch in the cafe and then do a bit of shopping and then come back. And we’d all get one thing to bide the time before the weather got better again. Why don’t we do that?”

A smile was forming on his lips. “You want to try shopping with me again?”

“That prick and his fancy camera won’t be going back there, trust me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why, what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” You patted his hand. “Please, Harry. Rescue me from insanity.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

“Yay!” You stood and clapped your hands together. “I’m gonna change.”

Half an hour later you were back at the supermarket in the town over and ready to find as much new entertainment as possible.

“Do you think we should buy them a TV?” Harry contemplated aloud as he stood in front of a large flatscreen.

You gave him a scrutinous look. “And put it where?”

“Good point.” He sighed. “We’re missing Love Island.”

You barked a laugh and carried it down the aisle with you. “That is not what I expected you to mourn over.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

You found your way to the games and books. “Can we get a jigsaw puzzle?”

“Why are you asking me? Get whatever you want, mate.”

You perused the options with as much interest as a car fanatic in a vintage car garage. “Farmyard or harbour? Or circus? Or mountains?”

“Whichever will keep you occupied for the longest.” He said absently, moving down the aisle to the board games.

The circus one had the most pieces and highest level of difficulty, so you plucked the box off the shelf and followed after him. “Have they got the Game of Life?”

He started laughing but never answered you.

“Oh,” you pouted, tapping the spin-off version that was much shorter and way less entertaining.

“Bop-It?” 

“When I was little I completed that.”

He raised a brow at you. “Can you even complete Bop-It?”

“Yes,” you snatched the box off the shelf, “and I will prove it to you when we get back.”

“We’ll see about that.” He whispered, smirking. “We need an actual board game.”

You gazed over the options with the same level of interest as the jigsaws. “You choose. I’ve picked the last two.”

“Absolutely not, I’ll only pick wrong.”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Cluedo.”

“Then get Cluedo.” You pointed at it and walked away.

Two hours later and three books heavier you were back at the cabin and starting your jigsaw puzzle. You and Harry sat on your claimed sides of the table, box lid propped against the window and a selection of snacks between you.

“Where the fuck is the fourth corner?” You grumbled, digging through the box like a cat in a litter tray.

Harry glanced at the box lid, then at the jumbled selection of tiles, and plucked it out without hesitation. “There y’go.”

You blinked at him. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” You pinched it from him and placed it in the relevant corner. “Thank you.”

“A compliment and gratitude? It is a good day.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m not very good at the splits.”

That made you laugh, right from the back of your throat. “Have you tried?”

“Many times.”

“For what purpose?”

“I had a thing for my yoga instructor once and she was convinced I could do it so I kept trying just to impress her.”

“My God, you are a sap.”

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“It’s nice to know you failed at something for such a pitiful reason.”

He gave you such a megawatt smile you had to look away. “I’m just like any other boy.”

“I can’t believe you had to try hard to impress anyone. It almost doesn’t seem natural.”

“You make me sound like a robot.”

“I don’t think you’re a robot. I just think sometimes things seem to come a little too easily to you. Skills. Work. Friends. Women. Probably men, too. Some of us have to try really hard to get those things.”

“You have friends. A good job. And I refuse to believe people aren’t interested in you… romantically.”

You lifted a brow at him. “Refuse?”

“Are they not?”

“Have you ever known me to be ‘romantically’ involved with anyone?”

“Yeah, that lad you took to your brother’s wedding.”

Colin.

“He’s gay.”

“Oh.” He scratched his nose. “I wondered why he kept eyeing up one of the groomsmen. Your cousin?”

“Also gay.”

“Have you never had a boyfriend?”

“Not since school, no.”

“Have you… are you… you know?”

You gave him another raised brow. “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

He rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. “I’m sorry. Ignore me.”

“Just because I haven’t had relationships, doesn’t mean I’m a virgin, Harry.”

The tips of his ears turned pink. “I think we’ve gone a bit off track here.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

He slotted a piece into place next to one of the corners. You slotted another one in after that. The pattern repeated itself, in silence, for the next twenty minutes.

“When do you go to your AirBnB?”

You met his gaze with a calm expression. “Six days. Five nights.”

“Okay.” He said as he stood. “Are you hungry enough for dinner yet?”

“If you are, we can eat.”

He gave a stiff nod. “Okay.”

~~~

Part 2

Talk to me?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita because I asked my friend to not name his kid the same name as my abusive dad because it triggers me?

✨👶🏼 so I notice myself, sorry but I have a mental disability so my grammar isn't great. Sorry if I sound weird.

So let's just call my friend Fred (23,he/him, trans man)and I'll call my dad's name Sven. Fred has one other child(1,m) who I'll call Winston and Fred's newest child (Unborn lol, we know its another boy) is with one of his partners Brooke(22, They/She, transfem nb girl). I also offhandedly mention my partner Rosey(25, Any pronouns, Genderfluid) a few times, Fred's other partner Alan (20s?, He/him, Trans man), and lastly Me (24, He/she, Genderfluid).

Me and Fred have been bffs for like 7 or 8 years and I and Rosey are godparents to Winston and Fred got pregnant again. This time from one of his partners Brooke , Winston's other dad isnt in the picture. Me and Fred are super close (nearly dated at one point but it was before Fred and Brooke got together the first time and we are no longer interested in each other like that.) and I've been following both of Fred's pregnancies just to make sure everything is ok (I'm not encroaching, I just get text updates on appointments and stuff. Fred's first pregnancy was rough.).

Without going into a whole timeline, Fred and Brooke dated a couple years ago for about a year but Brooke raised a hand to hit Fred (never made contact nor any other physical abuse however they used it as a threat) and was controlling over him, they broke up and lost contact and over the last year/year and a half, rekindled and Brooke says they've changed and Fred trusts them again. I still don't like Brooke for obvious reasons but I'm being civil and trying to let them earn my trust again. So far their relationship is fine and it's not my place to muddle so until Fred sets off alarms that Brooke has gone back to their old ways, I'm trusting my friend's judgement. Brooke has been doing great through this pregnancy.

Fred knows the gest about what my dad put me through and how abusive he was to me. He knows I can't even be near cigarette smoke because it reminds me of him. However, Fred doesn't know his name. It's not because Fred doesn't want to, my dad's name just never came up and i didnt realize he didnt know his name till a few hours ago.

Me and Rosey sat in a call with Fred, Brooke and Alan while Fred and Brooke were brainstorming name ideas (They wanted our input). Brooke suggested the name Sven. I wanna be clear, Brooke doesn't know my dad's name either so I don't think this was a way of attacking me or something sinister. The name Sven is standing in for is a very common name in my country, though it's not popular for us gen Zers, it is common for my dad's generation.

I obviously froze up a bit due to the mention of his name and although Rosey tried to bring it up, Fred and his partners are kinda known for interrupting (Usually not viciously) and they didn't hear her. Fred and Brooke chatted happily about what a handsome name Sven was and how they might just decide to stick with it here and now but they wanted to hear other options. I waited out till the end of the call when Alan left (I don't know them so I didn't want to accidentally tell them personal things about my history of abuse) and told Fred that Sven was my dad's name.

Fred gasped and quickly said he wouldn't choose Sven and that he was sorry he forgot his name. Brooke however said that that was not a good enough reason to not consider a name they both dearly loved not 10 seconds ago. I tried to tell Brooke about why my dad was a bad person and some of the lighter things he'd done (not in a trauma dump explicit way, just in a he did *insert form of abuse* way) but they shut me down and said it was their kid to decide the name of. Fred told him he was also a vote in the name and he didn't want to upset me unnecessarily. Brooke said they were done with the conversation and Fred said they'd talk about it later. Fred then said to me and Rosey that he'd handle it and ended the call.

After about 30 mins, I got a couple of texts from Brooke and Alan that I was a jerk for trying to push my triggers onto other people and causing a fight between them and Fred and it wasn't my baby to name. (Alan doesn't live with Brooke and Fred so Brooke told Alan first what happened.) I decided not to answer for an hour or so because I was already worked up and they both essentially called me an asshole for overstepping. Fred just says hes gonna handle them but now I'm just confused.

I can see where I might of overstepped but I wasn't trying to be controlling and even if they would of picked Sven, i would of still respected it and tried my best to get over it as best i can. Was I pushing my problems on others or was I just letting a friend know what that name might be a bit painful for me when the name was just a suggestion? I don't think I'm TA but I wanna see if I'm missing something?

(I just realized rereading this that there is some important context to be added; Sven is not a sentimental name to Fred, Brooke or Alan. It's not a parents or grandparents name that might need carried on, it was just a name they liked. I checked with Fred to see if that explained Brooke's anger or something and Fred said no, they just liked Sven. There also hasn't been any hostility before this with Brooke or Alan so I'm not sure where all this anger came from.)

What are these acronyms?

[gracies-baby]

could you maybe do a gracie x younger reader? i'm thinking reader is 19-20 years old and gracie 24 like she is atm. And maybe reader still goes to college?

i'd really appreciate it but no pressure 🫶

thanks!!

Thank you so much for the request! This was so much fun to write! 💛

Studying

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

——————————————————————————

Y/n sits in her dorm studying before she hears her phone begin to vibrate, signaling that someone is sending her a message. She picks it up and smiles when she sees the name on her screen.

Gracie❤️

Come over? I miss you xx

Y/n💙

I can't, I have to study 😔

Gracie❤️

Study over here. I'll even help you

Y/n💙

Gracie we both know if I come over, no studying will get done

Gracie❤️

I guarantee we'll do some studying 😏

Y/n sighs, telling her girlfriend she'll be over soon before grabbing her keys and driving to her girlfriend's house. She drives for about 10 minutes before parking in her girlfriend's drive way and knocking on the door. The door is opened to reveal a brunette with a wide smile.

"You're here!" Gracie exclaims excitedly as she pulls her girlfriend in for a kiss.

"I am, but I really need to study now. I've got a test tomorrow" Y/n tells the brunette as she walks into her house and puts her books on Gracie's desk.

"Babe, you're so smart. You don't even need to study, you're gonna pass anyway" Gracie assures the girl, trying to get her to give her attention.

"Just let me study for a few hours and then I'll give you all the attention you want" Y/n replies as she focuses on her books causing the brunette to sigh and pick up her guitar before sitting on her bed. After trying to write a song for a while, Gracie gets bored and tries to convince her girlfriend to give her some attention again.

"Babe, you know what? We should totally take a bath. I'll run us a bath and then we'll order pizza, and we can just spend the rest of the night in bed watching whatever you want. How's that sound?" Gracie whispers into Y/n's ear, successfully taking her attention away from her schoolwork.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. I'm done with this anyway" Y/n replies with a soft smile as she turns her head to press a soft kiss against the older girl's lips.

"Perfect. You just lay in bed, and I'll be there in a minute" Y/n goes to her girlfriend's bed while Gracie went to the bathroom to start running the bath and to order the pizza. A few minutes later, the two girls get in the warm bathtub. Gracie sit with her arms around Y/n's waist as the shorter girl has her back against the brunettes front.

"How's the new album going?" Y/n asks softly as she enjoys her girlfriend's company.

"It's great, we're nearly done. I've got a few interviews this week, that's kinda tiring but it'll be fun" Gracie murmurs in reply as she presses a soft kiss against Y/n's hair.

"Are there any songs about me on there?"

"Baby, all the songs are about you" Gracie replies as Y/n smiles brightly before the two share a deep kiss. A while later, the two of them get out of the bath before the pizza arrives and they cuddle in bed watching TV.

"Are you staying the night?" Gracie asks as she softly runs her fingers on her girlfriends back, Y/n's head laying against her chest.

"I dunno if I can. I've got that test early in the morning" Y/n replies with a tired sigh.

"Could you be convinced?" Gracie asks with a smirk as Y/n lifts her head.

"Maybe. Just how convincing can you be Abrams?" Y/n asks teasingly before Gracie leans forward, connecting their lips and slipping her tongue into her girlfriend's mouth. Y/n moans softly as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

"Is this convincing enough?" Gracie mumbles against Y/n's lips as she nods intensely before Gracie pushes her onto the bed and gets on top of her.

--

Gracie wakes the next morning to the sound of someone rushing around her room. She slowly opens her eyes to see her girlfriend collecting her things causing her to groan.

"Come back to bed. It's so cold without you" Gracie whines while reaching out for her girlfriend.

"I can't. I have to go to class, but I'll be back tonight. Go back to sleep, it's still early" Y/n replies as she walks over to Gracie, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead. Gracie mumbles something before falling back asleep. Y/n smiles at her girlfriend, leaving another kiss on her forehead before leaving the brunette's house.

[eregyrn-falls]

Gravity Falls Revival Prospects Teased by Disney TV Boss (Exclusive)

By Russ Milheim Posted: June 05, 2024

(From "The Direct", original article linked above.) While Gravity Falls may have ended in 2014 on the Disney Channel, fans are still hoping for a revival—thankfully, that doesn't look too far out of reach, at least according to an update from a top Disney executive. The series may have ended in 2014, but since then, creator Alex Hirsch has published several books in the universe. This included Gravity Falls: Tales of the Strange and Unexplained, Lost Legends, and Journal 3. In fact, another book is even coming out later this year, called The Book of Bill, which tells the story of the show from the perspective of the big bad. However, while books are great and all, a continuation of the show would absolutely thrill the franchise’s fanbase. In an exclusive interview with The Direct’s Russ Milheim while promoting the release of Big City Greens the Movie: Spacecation, Executive Vice President of Television Animation and Disney Branded Television Meredith Roberts gave a hopeful update on a possible Gravity Falls revival. She confirmed that they’re “in conversations with [creator] Alex [Hirsch]” before ending with an encouraging “never say never:” “You know, we're in conversations with Alex. He's about to publish a book with Disney on his project. And we also do some shorts. So never say never.”

What Could Be Next for Gravity Falls? While the update is a small one, plenty of fans will be thrilled to see even a slight glimmer of home. Sure, the new book releases are exciting, but not nearly as much as having the show back. If the show were to return, creator Alex Hirsch would likely want to introduce a new threat other than Bill. Admittedly, that's a high bar to clear. Perhaps a continuation would also age its leading characters, Dipper and Mabel. However, having older leads could transform Gravity Falls into a much different, more adult-based narrative. Either way, there's plenty of demand from fans to see the world of Gravity Falls again. Hopefully, that's something Disney can capitalize on sooner rather than later.

Since this is going around, and I haven't seen it posted here... well, here you go. What does it mean? Nobody knows! It may not mean anything. It's hard to tell whether this is just a Disney exec making noises for promotional purposes or what. I honestly would take this with a grain of salt until or unless Alex himself posts or tweets about it.

(My own thoughts: to be worthwhile, I strongly feel that any new Gravity Falls content would need to have the involvement of Alex Hirsch AND a good chunk of the other folks who worked on the show. People like Rob Renzetti, and others like Matt Braly, Alonso Ramirez Ramos, Emmy Ciceriega, Dana Terrace, Matt Chapman, Jeff Rowe, etc. etc. It would probably be difficult to impossible to get everyone back, unless it was for a very limited project, like a TV-movie or something.

I'm not saying they would ALL need to be back, and I do also think you could find some new folks to work on the project who would be very good replacements for some of the original crew who might not be able to come back. But, I've said many, many times: Gravity Falls was not the work of only one man. I respect the hell out of Alex Hirsch, but, the show that we love had contributions from a lot of other people that went into creating the final product. If what we want is something as good as the original show, then I think it would need input from those people.

And even then, we still have to keep in mind that it can be difficult to recapture lightning in a bottle. Even if they got back a majority of the original team, it's 10 years later (ish), and all of those folks have been through a lot, and most haven't been working with each other. There's a groove that the crew of the show got into at the time, and they'd have to recapture that groove. It would be different in at least SOME ways. Maybe a GOOD different! A lot would depend on the enthusiasm they had for doing it.)

So, we'll see! Keep an eye out, though, for more news.

[polythought]

It's been a couple of years since my last post... again! Hello everyone 👋

Tumblr recently told me it is the 10th anniversary of this blog. Can't believe it.

This month marks 12 years of polyamory for me. If I started writing about it two years in... Huh, well, it's been so long now since then that I'm curious what I was writing back then (haven't looked in a long time) and wonder how much I'd still stand by and what I've changed my views on or approach to.

10 years of this Tumblr means I was technically still in my 20s when I started it. I'm nearly 40 now.

12 years of polyamory also feels like a milestone because it marks the year that I've been polyamorous for half of my dating life. My first-ever monogamous relationship started 24 years ago...yep, Y2K. I was in high school. After 12 years of serial monogamy, I found myself single and decided to commit to at least trying polyamory. I'm so glad I did.

I may have more of my own reflections later, but now I'll ask y'all this question: if you used to be monogamous and now are polyamorous, what has your love life felt like on either side of that divide? Does it feel like the right trajectory for you, or is that something you're still figuring out? What flipped the switch for you--or was it someone else's idea, and you took the plunge along with them? Even if you're not polyamorous but perhaps want to be or think you might want to be--what are your hopes for the years to come?

[codenamesazanka]

AU idea. Spinner is the one who dies, and Shigaraki lives and gets the last words.

Spinner gets warped to the same rock Mic and Aizawa were on; dying, he asks them to give his last words to Shigaraki. Not very coherent, very rambling, a lot of it more airing out his regrets, but still last words:

Tell Shigaraki... I knew it wasn't... you. I'm sorry I didn't... that extra step. My life, my heart... empty. But following him... my first friend. Tell Shigaraki Tomura... 'You are my hero.'

After the war, Mic and Aizawa are somewhat of opposing opinions on whether to relay this to Shimura Tenko, who's in prison awaiting trial.

(Shimura still has AFO and OFA, but the combination of the two has "blocked" him from accessing any of it without decaying his body inside out, making him effectively quirkless)

Mic thinks they don't owe it to a Villain - he's grief-stricken and believes that Spinner and Shimura was responsible for breaking down Shirakumo, somehow. But Aizawa is more pensive - that Shirakumo gave his life to save Shimura, at the last second during the battle; and Iguchi Shuuichi would call the villain a 'friend'. Shirakumo was Mic and Aizawa's friend, whatever form he took, and given what he did, that's reason enough for them try. So in the end, Mic and Aizawa do go to see Shimura.

(All Might accompanies them; he calls Shimura 'Tenko', which Shimura does respond to).

Through the prison bars, Mic and Aizawa tells Shimura the circumstances around Spinner's death, and those last words... but Shimura is seemingly unmoved. Is that all Spinner said?

Mic gets upset, and he lays out all his frustration into Shimura. That's all he has to say? That was his follower's last words! Shirakumo died for this? Did Shimura ever cared for anything? He really is a monster who tried to destroy the world for nothing but some sick desire. How could anyone think Shimura is a Hero is beyond him.

This rant brings a bit more life into Shimura, who darkly wonders that since they're the real Heroes, why couldn't they save Spinner, so that Spinner didn't have to rely on a monster like him?

Mic yells at Shimura that that was his fault, giving Spinner extra quirks; while Aizawa butts in to say they did try to help Spinner - they warped Spinner back to Central Hospital, but it was too late. Spinner was declared brain dead.

That was something Shimura didn't know, only having heard that Spinner did not survive the hospital attack. Shimura asks when exactly Spinner died, and All Might pipes up that it took a while, but a relative (Spinner's older sister, but in disguise) finally came to finalize decisions and pull the plug, though she did not claim the body. The village refused to let him get buried back 'home'. Currently Spinner's unclaimed urn is at a pauper's grave facility.

Same as Toga.

Mic backs off a little, after that. No matter how he feels about the League, that's a pitiful end.

Aizawa asks what Shirakumo... what Kurogiri and the League meant to Shimura.

Shimura says that Kurogiri called the League his (Shigaraki's) friends. Kurogiri was there when the League was formed. Kurogiri had watched over him for nearly 10 years. Toga once teased him about being lonely that Kurogiri got captured.

He had wanted his League to live as they pleased.

After a moment of silence, Shimura also says, more softly than he had ever spoken before, that Spinner was the one who got him to play PvP again. So when Spinner wanted to see the horizon again, he wanted to make that happen.

Mic says, And that's why he called you his Hero? What a dumb reason...

Shimura says, Between friends, isn't that reason enough?

.*.

Months later, All Might is at UA, meeting with Nedzu. Mic sees him, says hi, observes that All Might has been coming in a lot to meet with Nedzu.

Yes, All Might responds. There's lot of reconstruction left to do. To improve things. Heteromorph discrimination, quirk counseling, Tartarus reform, welfare...

Mic expresses surprise and admiration for how much All Might and Nedzu is tackling.

All Might says it's not actually him - he's been acting as a liaison for Tomura.

Mic: For Shimura?

All Might says he's since insisted on using the name Shigaraki Tomura again. Despite the death sentence... Tomura has been trying to make use of his remaining time. So he's been working with Nedzu, to share his experiences.

Mic: For something like prevention? What, is he trying to atone?

All Might says, Yes. Well—Tomura's own words were... 'The Villains still need a Hero of their own.' And that's what he'll do until the end of his life. He'll fight to destroy for the League until the very end.

Mic considers this. He still doesn't like Shimura or Shigaraki or whatever name he's going by. But Mic also thinks about Shirakumo giving his life for this.

With a huff, Mic wishes them best of luck. ganbare.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hellooo

As per usual, I'd like to ask for some arsonist Neil/firefighter Andrew, I'm still stuck on Neil's whole ass gay panic to Andrew calling him cute. Also, the firemen light structure thingy was very funny because the pic totally looks like it could be Neil's

Anyways, thank you and have a good week : )

WIP Wednesday (9/25) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 238)

The call ends and Andrew rolls onto his side to get snuggly-warm in his nest of blankets and pillows. His best adult purchase, he thinks, is this bedding. He smushes his face into one of his pillows and lies there in the dark on the verge of slumber. But, just as he's about to fall asleep, his brain suddenly comes to life and he replays the call in his mind. Did he call 10 cute? Andrew thinks for a moment. Yes. He fucking did. What the hell's the matter with him? Andrew isn't the type to call anyone cute.

He lets out a sigh. Evidently, half-asleep Andrew is the type.

10 didn't call him on it. He must not have noticed. Good, good. Andrew wriggles a bit deeper into his cocoon and goes to sleep.

-

Andrew spends much of the next afternoon pondering a possible gift he could get for 10. He knows it's not needed, but he'll be damned if 10 gives him two presents before Andrew's gotten him one. (The gift basket full of chocolate was the first, of course. Andrew misses those stupid little cookies.)

But it's hard to pick out a present for someone he barely knows. Actually, he knows 10 quite well. He knows about his terrible past and his night terrors and love of fire. He'd guess he knows 10 better than anyone. However, the arsonist hasn't got any (non-arson) hobbies or interests.

Andrew likes to think himself a good gift-giver. Sure, they're usually practical ones. But they're good. The problem is, as far as he knows, 10 doesn't need anything.

See, last year Andrew bought Renee a new backpack. Hers was falling apart, so Andrew scoured the internet and found a duplicate. She loved it.

And for the station's Secret Santa, he drew Wymack's name. So he bought him a nice cushion for his chair. (The old man was constantly complaining of back and hip pain. Andrew fixed it.)

Last Christmas, he and Aaron hadn't exactly been close enough for gifts. Andrew had considered buying him a new remote for his Xbox, because he'd been complaining about it during their calls with Nicky. But he didn't want to shell out that much for a man who hated his guts. So he didn't.

The only other gift he bought last year was a pair of noise-canceling headphones for Kevin, who'd been struggling with the nosiness of planes and team buses. Until Andrew fixed it. (He likes fixing things.) Oh. Speaking of Kevin, Andrew really should thank him for the sweater. He won't. But he should. The asshole. How dare he know Andrew looks good in green before Andrew did. Bastard.

In lieu of a thank you, Andrew sends Kevin the photo he took of last night's outfit. Less than a minute later, his phone nearly vibrates off the table. Renee looks up at him, concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"It's just Kevin."

"Ah." Renee nods and looks back down at her crossword book. From the look of it, she's only got a few left. Maybe he should get a new one and leave it laying around the station. Andrew makes a mental note to do just that and picks up his phone.

Kevin Damn. See, I told you. I fucking told you that would look good on you. Is this the first time you've worn it? I think you could try it with jeans too. And a smile. For fuck's sake, Andrew. You look like the most bored person alive. But good. Really good. I love being right. It's a hobby of mine. Are you not going to answer? Asshole. Andrew Excuse me for taking thirty seconds to reply. Some of us have actual jobs, Day. Kevin Exy is my job. Andrew Exy is your disease. Kevin Which I get paid for. Do you like the sweater? Does this mean I get to buy you clothes now? Andrew Do whatever you want. If you buy me something, I might wear it in three years. Kevin You suck. But you really do look good in that, Andrew. It suits you well. Andrew Stop flirting with me. Kevin I'm not flirting with you, idiot. By the way, Jeremy also says you look nice. Jean thinks you should get those pants hemmed. Andrew Are you going to get opinions from all your teammates? Kevin No, just the ones I live with. Where are you going? Have a date? Andrew It was last night. Went over to Aaron's to 'meet' his girlfriend. Kevin Oh. Do I need to post bail or...?