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writingsfromhome · 4 months ago

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The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

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5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You’re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #the golden years #joshua bassett #harry styles one shot #harry stylesxreader #second chance romance #lyrics #this was a fun one

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orbmanson7 · 1 year ago

Text

Let's do a quick analysis of this new short video "The Sides Need a Nice Day" which is clearly meant to be mostly for fun, but there's definitely some hints and easter eggs to pay attention to that I'd like to explore a little further.

I'll address this in three parts in separate posts, the first for Patton and Logan, the next for Virgil and Roman, and the last for Janus and Remus.

Let's start with the first part, about Patton and Logan.

Patton's initial approach, as we can see, was flawed despite his good intentions. He wants to do something nice for Logan, he thinks out ideas based on what he knows Logan enjoys, and he likes to see Logan actually having fun. These are all very emotion-based notions and motivations, which we can expect from Patton. He's inspired by his own emotions in response to seeing the videos online, and takes matters into his own hands to give Logan in particular a special day.

Why Logan? Because Patton's very in tune with emotions and can recognize that Logan has been having a tough time lately. He empathizes with this a lot (considering it's kind of his thing) so he wants to do something that he'd like someone to do for him if he was having a bad day - do something to cheer him up!

This is very sweet and he clearly puts a lot of thought into this idea...but it's not an immediate success because he only really puts the emotional concept and vision into it, and didn't think practically or make his decisions with logic in mind.

Wonder who could have helped with something like that...

First, he approached Logan about making a quick decision, which is not something Logan is ever known to do. Logan resists this right away by questioning him for clarification and is already annoyed to start because Patton is being vague and trying to get Logan to play along without giving consideration to Logan's need to understand a situation and weigh his options before deciding anything. Logan takes no action lightly and always thinks his actions through first, as opposed to Patton, who prefers gut instincts and impulsive action. He doesn't bother to offer Logan the information and time to make a more informed decision, all because he wants to hurry up and get to the fun part!

Patton (like Roman) is someone who is able to envision what he wants, but Logan is someone who actually figures out the steps needed to make that a reality. Without the steps, that vision is but a dream, and without the vision, the steps are just work with no purpose.

These sides need to learn to work together to accomplish goals, not just do things on their own, and this part of the episode gives us a hint towards that notion.

The peculiar way that Patton then explains the situation to Logan is also interesting, as he states that whichever option Logan chooses will be something Patton wants to do, and because Patton wants to do it, Thomas will want to do it, meaning Logan gets to do it, too.

This, by itself, is such an alarming concept to drop into this video, especially with Patton saying it so cheerfully.

In case it's not clear, Patton is implying that he has so much power and sway over Thomas' decision-making process that he can have Thomas do something just because he, Patton, wants to do it. None of the sides should have that level of influence over Thomas, but Patton not only has that power but also knows that he does.

(And to clear up any confusion, this is not the same as Janus saying during his part of the video that he's convinced Thomas to lean into certain thoughts for the day. Patton is suggesting that if he wants something, Thomas will do it, as if it's automatic and doesn't require convincing. That may be Patton oversimplifying it a bit, but it's still indicating his status above others in that sense.)

In this case, he's using it to give Logan a nice day by doing (read: permitting Thomas to do) things he knows Logan would enjoy...but in other context, that's a very dangerous situation, especially since Patton has been shown to make bad or skewed judgement calls in the past due to his biases as well as making some very impulsive, emotionally-driven decisions.

But he recognizes this status that he holds and is attempting to use it for good, so at least there's that?

The next and more obvious part of this section shows that Patton is rushing Logan through the activities chosen, talking over him or cutting him off when Logan questions Patton about this, and Logan grows more annoyed by this as time goes on.

He is not quick to anger, even when he was initially forced into deciding something with very little information, and it takes a few times of being pushed and talked over before he even shows his frustration at all.

It's important to notice this because Logan's anger is not just born of nothing. It's valid because it's a natural reaction to the situation he's in not being properly catered to him.

This is something we see in episodes of the series a lot, and when it comes to the specific moments where Logan has truly gotten angry enough to show it, it's never out of nowhere, even if it may seem that way. If you are properly paying attention, you will see the gradual buildup, where Logan keeps holding himself back, staying calm and collected as long as he can, before the emotion bursts out and he acts rashly (and then regrets it).

Logan's anger has been shown to appear after moments where he is repeatedly cut off, spoken over, and ignored or disregarded completely. Being silenced and skipped over so often, it's a wonder Logan keeps trying at all, but he does. At some point, the last line is crossed, and he explodes with that anger.

While the resulting behavior may be inappropriate or rude, the feelings motivating that behavior are extremely valid, because he's being pushed to this breaking point by others. Anger serves the purpose of making it known when someone's boundaries have been crossed and when they have been wronged, so it makes sense for Logan to experience it at these times.

So, in this short video, Patton is trying to do something nice for him, and Logan can recognize and appreciate Patton's intention, but the execution is filled with the same mannerisms that build Logan's anger - being cut off, spoken over, ignored. It's not that he doesn't enjoy these activities, either, but he's not being given the chance to enjoy them with the way Patton is presenting them to him. It's a recipe for disaster because Logan's needs and boundaries aren't being respected despite the whole point being to do something nice for him.

This is also a tough situation for someone to oppose, by the way! When someone does something nice for you but you honestly hate it, how do you begin to tell them that? You don't want to hurt their feelings because you know they were trying to be nice and meant no harm, but if you don't speak up about the issues you had with it, your boundaries could wind up violated over and over again and the other party would be none the wiser.

Logan must voice his frustration. He has to explain why he's upset. And, thankfully, in this section of the video, he does!

He starts by stopping Patton directly, hand out and everything. He speaks calmly and clearly, using the same tone he used when speaking to the others during DwIT to get them to chill out and not be so impulsive. Logan is using what he knows to work to make his case here, and he tells Patton that he appreciates what he's trying to do. But then, he raises his voice and informs Patton what's annoying him about it, that he can't enjoy these activities because he's being rushed through them. This is a direct communication of the issue at hand and why it's bothering him.

Patton then pauses, reflects, realizes his mistake and where he had messed up, and then alters his behavior to fix the issue.

It's so simple and succinct that Logan, while still annoyed, seems confused that Patton actually listened to him and by how easy it was to find that resolution.

And I think that's our next piece of foreshadowing, as well.

Logan has been holding back about his genuine anger and frustration over how he's treated by the other sides and Thomas. He feels ignored and only utilized as a tool, as if he were a book rather than a person (or the metaphysical manifestation of one, at least).

These are not feelings that have only sprung up recently, either - this has been happening for a very long time without Logan ever addressing it.

Until he does, the others won't realize the impact their words and actions truly have on him. He needs to speak up and the others need to listen and adjust accordingly.

With the way Patton responded in this part, though, perhaps this shows that they may have an easier, calmer solution in store than one might initially anticipate, but we shall see.

Speaking of foreshadowing, during the times Logan is shown in the library throughout this part, he is reading a book titled A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. Knowing past easter eggs and hints, it's likely this is not a coincidence.

Having read the book myself, I think it's very possible this is a potential nod to something that may occur soon within Logan's upcoming arc (whenever that may happen), as the book happens to deal a lot with the concept of imprisonment and finding ways to live through adversity.

In the book, the main character is put on house arrest in a bustling hotel in the city, but he's relegated to a cramped attic space and had left all of his books away from home so he cannot access them, because if he dares to leave the hotel, he'll be shot dead. So he stays inside, and he self-reflects because he now has a lot of time to think. He gets to know the people who work and live in the hotel, how their lives are so different than his own had been and continues to be. For quite some time, he feels the true punishment of his stay there, how the whole world outside is moving on so fast, but he is stuck inside, removed from it. He becomes effectively useless, unable to be or do anything for others (outside of giving amazing wine pairings for meals, of course), but he stays true to himself despite it all. He remains his charming and intelligent self, he makes new friends, he finds ways to be happy despite being trapped there.

The most popular quote from the book is one that says, "if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them." And while the main character in that story manages to make the best of his life and circumstances, we know that Logan is still struggling with his fate right now, being trapped within Thomas' mind as someone who cannot fully explore his own interests, who has less and less purpose since Thomas left college, and feels less respected and listened to every day.

Logan has to find a way to obtain happiness despite his circumstances, because he can't change his situation, but he can change how he responds to it.

This book may be a clue as to how he finally figures out how to do that.

The outcome of this part of the video with Logan and Patton is a satisfying one. Logan expressed his frustration, Patton listened and was able to correct the issue, and Logan was able to have a nice day after all, which is what Patton had set out to accomplish. There were quite a few bumps along the way, but it was successful in the end!

Now, onto the next part...

#sanders sides #sanders sides analysis #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts spoilers #long post #orbs thought bubbles #I'm posting part one for now and I'll post part two and three later on because i have two jobs back to back today and tomorrow so I'm busy #pfft but i won't make anyone wait for too long i promise

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 24 days ago

Note

(I wish I could ask this in a video with GamingMagic13’s editing style, but I don’t have the energy for that.)

People say that, after Antibug, Chloé’s redeeming qualities started to show through throughout Seasons 2 and 3 because Thomas Astruc didn’t contribute to those episodes of those seasons as if he wasn’t on the writing team for every episode for those two seasons, including the ones showing Chloé’s redeeming qualities.

It’s not “Thomas left so the other writers started to make a redemption for Chloé, but then he came back and threw it all away”, it’s leaning more towards “Thomas, along with other writers, wanted to waste our time with Chloé pity parties for two seasons and trick people into feeling bad for her, which worked on plenty of reactors, and then yank the rug out from under them just for the sake of pulling a rug out from viewers” whether it’s the truth or not.

Also, do you get the feeling that, if people weren’t harassing Thomas and his family over Chloé’s “abandoned redemption”, Chloé wouldn’t have been made into evil incarnate to spite people?

Considering that the hiatus between Seasons 3 and 4 started towards the end of 2019, had to continue throughout 2020 due to the COVID pandemic with only the New York special to keep us busy in September 2020, and then finally ended shortly after 2021 started, that would have been plenty of time to rework scripts, because we know he was also on the writing team for every episode of Seasons 4 and 5 alongside 2 and 3, to made Chloé more and more unlikeable while propping up the male adults to spite Chloé fans, like several episodes of Teen Titans GO! and even this show are guilty of.

Whether all of this is true or not, I think it all lines up too well for too many other outcomes.

The "Thomas Astruc was able to completely rewrite the plans for this character and no one stopped him" take has always been a little wild to me especially since Chloe never showed meaningful improvement in canon. In fact, now that we've seen her story play out in all it's disappointing and time-wasting glory, you can even argue that Despair Bear was straight up telling you what we were in for since it's the same plot, just on a smaller scale.

As far as I know, there is no evidence for this "Chloe was rewritten" conspiracy. At the very least, no one has sent any my way on the multiple occasions when I've asked for it. Astruc is a credited writer for pretty much every episode involved in the Queen Bee arc and, while head writers have a good deal of power, they often don't have supreme power over their shows. This is especially true when it comes to kids shows since those have a lot of restrictions on what they can do. While I cannot speak French, I've been told that this class involves one of the writers talking about the multiple darker version of Chat Blanc that were rejected, leading to Chat Blanc being a season three episode instead of a season two episode like they originally planned.

These shows are products that are being sold to buyers who do have the power to reject the product and the writers work for a company. In most cases, they can be stopped!

There's also the fact that this is Astruc's career that we're talking about. You're arguing that he purposely messed with his reputation and screwed up the writing in the show that he's most well-known for in order to get back at online randos instead of just blocking them and moving on with his life. That's an insanely hard sell for me. Unintentional bad writing is a much easier explanation especially since he has nothing to gain from people disliking the Chloé stuff. This wasn't situation where Astruc needed to tank the show to get out of writing it. If Astruc left the project, then Miraculous would go on without him. While he came up with the initial idea, Zag owns the property.

Unless someone has hard evidence that Chloé was changed to spite fans, I am never going to buy into this conspiracy theory. Her bad writing is too in line with the show's other issues. Remember, this is the show that gave us Derision, everything about Lila, and Gabriel getting an 'ascends into the light with a smile' ending while his son sat the fight out and remains in the dark. Is Chloé really meaningfully worse than any of that?

I'd say no and, if you agree, then why do you think that she's so special? I've previously called her a canary in the coal mine and that's going to be my read until someone gives me evidence of something else. She was your warning sign that the writing was never going to be very good. I don't think she foretold just how bad it would get - that's why I kept watching - but her story showed that these writers were only good at short-form content and sucked at long-form content. In fact, Chloé's story is arguably better than a lot of the long-form stuff that the show gave us in season four and five. At least Chloé's story logically flowed together even if it was massively disapointing!

I also don't consider Chloé's season four and five writing downgrade to be all that telling because, once again, it's not unique to her. The class gets a similar downgrade in quality, going from "we'll help Marinette with her confession plans when she asks, but this isn't a major thing to us" to "we live for Adrienette and will make our own plans for Marinette to confess and force them on her/try to force Adrienette to kiss." It makes the entire class feels more shallow than ever.

Gabriel also gets a downgrade with his writing going more over-the-top than ever. We have things like him locking Adrien in a cell and using Adrien's amoks for no obvious reason even though Gabriel is supposed to get an ending where he dies totally at peace and ascends into the light. Totally nonsense choices just like the choice to make Marinette's inability to speak to Adrien because she's anxious into a full-out trauma response.

These are just a few of the many, many, many writing downgrades.

If you truly believe the Chloé conspiracy, then I'd strongly encourage you to watch at least the first of the videos I'm about to link and see if you notice similarities. I have all of them set to the specific, relevant timestamps in case you don't want to watch a massive video to see what I'm talking about because they all talk about more than the conspiracies that arose in these fandoms when the writing got "bad" (especially the last one. The conspiracy gets a very brief mention. I really only included it because I wanted three examples and just went with ones big enough that someone else had done research on the topic because it's not an area of fandom that I've ever waded into).

I'm linking these videos because I wanted to give you more than me just saying "this kind of thing happens all the time when media gets bad." Watching just a few minutes of each of these should give you the context you need assuming the timestamps work:

youtube

As you can hopefully see, the Chloé stuff is nothing new. So many pieces of media do something disappointing and then fans create conspiracies for why it happened, refusing to accept what is most likely to be the unfortunate truth: the writers thought they told a good story or, at the very least, they did the best they could within the confines they were working with be those confines monetary, temporal, and/or the limits of their own skills. That doesn't make the bad writing okay, you're fully valid in being upset, but there's also no need to create a conspiracy theory around it. It's probably not that deep. This shit happens all the time, especially in larger fandoms.

This is why I often give the advice of, "don't trust your mental health to stories that you have no control over." Is not that fandom isn't fun, I've just seen this shit before and I always feel bad for those who get involved with it. I've luckily never gone down the conspiracy rabbit hole, but I have gotten really upset when other fans continued to like a show that was bad, actually, and got a good deal of catharsis when most of the fandom woke up after the final was terrible. That still wasn't a good experience for me, though. It was not a healthy mindset to be waiting with baited breath for total strangers to agree with me that this random show was bad. I'm much better of bashing it with those who agree that it's bad, moving on when I'm no longer having fun, and letting those who like it be wrong (that is both a joke and real advice. Don't waste your time trying to change people's minds on something as insignificant as Miraculous. Just let them be wrong.)

#marcmarcmomarc #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #the chloe conspiracy #btw I picked those videos because I'd seen them before and remembered them talking about this topic #This is not a list of fandoms I've been in #I love that my confession at the end tells you so little because there are so many shows I could be talking about #Which is once again why I have a hard time buying the conspiracy

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alex-blanc141 · 3 months ago

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Bruce and Oliver

Bruce and Oliver are brothers.

I think Bruce and Oliver are brothers and nothing can stop me from thinking it.

So here is my headcanon/how they became brothers.

Oliver and Bruce met as kids. Bruce was about five and Oliver was 8. (In my little world in my head Oliver is 3 years older than Bruce, I don't know if thats true or not but I like it.)

Bruce and Oliver grew up together and when Bruce's parents were murdered when he was 9, Oliver and his parents stayed with Bruce for about 5 months until Oliver's parents said they needed to get back to Star city. Oliver visited whenever he could.

When Oliver's parents died, when Oliver was 13, on their safari tour, Bruce had him stay at the manor. While Oliver was getting used to things at the manor and his parents being gone, Bruce asked Alferd if they could have Oliver stay and if they could legally add him to the Wayne family.

After 5 or 6 months Bruce decided to ask Oliver what he thought of joining the Wayne family. It had been the first time they cried in a while when he said yes. The officially became Oliver Jonas Wayne Queen and Bruce Thomas Queen Wayne. Oliver kept his mansion in Star and him and Bruce stayed there every summer but they stayed in Gotham for the most part and they went to school together.

When Oliver graduated from Gotham Academy at the age of 18, he decided to go to college at one of the top colleges in all of Star city. Bruce graduated a year early at 16 and went to medical school until all of a sudden he disappeared, Oliver was devastated and he hired the best detectives in the world to find his little brother. When the detectives and police said that they couldn't find him and that he will be presumed dead until they find any signs of him. Oliver cried for weeks.

After a year or 2 Oliver decided to look himself on the sea he was shipwrecked on a island that was run by The League of Assassins. Right when Oliver was shipwrecked Bruce was back in Gotham and he was feeling the same devastation as his brother when he left. He looked and couldn't find him anywhere.

3 or 4 months after Bruce came back he became Batman. He fought all criminals he could find and he became the urban legend of Gotham. Bruce would also look for any information he could get his hands on to see if there was anything on Oliver. At the same time Oliver was fighting and training to get off the island and away from The League.

After 3 years Oliver finally escaped and marines found him on a raft. He was immediately brought to a hospital. Bruce flew on a plane as soon as he heard. Oliver was shocked when he saw Bruce, they hugged and cried for what felt like eternity to them. Bruce left the room and grabbed Dick and introduced him to Oliver. Oliver was shocked for a bit wondering how long he had been gone if his little brother had a son that looked to be 6.

Later Bruce explained what happened with Dick and his parents. Oliver found himself with a nephew that he was going to protect and spoiled rotten. Oliver discovered about the Batman from newspaper articles he read online and Oliver decided he was going to meet this man if it was last thing he do and make sure he doesn't hurt his family.

When Oliver finally left the hospital he went to live in Star city to officially start running Queen inc. as he had left in the hands of his father's right hand. Oliver became Green Arrow and fought crime hoping to get the Batmans attention to tell to stay away from his brother and nephew.(Robin showed up 3 years later)

5 years later, Bruce and Dick visited Oliver in Star City. The three spent the whole day together and the uncle and nephew got to spend quality time together, Oliver remembers when he hung out with Dick the first time just the two of them and he felt like was about to start sobbing when Dick called him uncle Ollie the first time. Later that night when Oliver was tieing up some goons Batman and Robin appeared. Oliver told them to stay away from him and Bruce and Dick telling them that his family was everything to him and no one can change that.

In the morning Bruce grabbed Oliver and sat him down. Oliver was shocked to learn that his little brother was Batman and that Dick was Robin. They started laughing when they all realized that they were all vigilantes and wanted to save people.

I don't have a idea about what will happen later yet but I love this AU. What should I call it?

#bruce wayne #oliver queen #batman #green arrow #richard grayson #robin #dick grayson #dick is robin

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quotidian-oblivion · 4 months ago

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So. The second unmasking. The unmasking of the @notheaussieanon.

Firstly, evidence.

I mentioned here that there were three suspects. Now, I am only more sure who it is.

I said that Alara was @gracefulchristiangirl and @brb-on-a-quest because of this:

Because they've both committed identity-revealing mishaps. And Birb wasn't on the jury. They were the only ones who had sent an anonymous ask besides the Aussie Anon.

But then...

They weren't the Fish. Both of them weren't. So I thought it was aurora, or thomas or bea.

But no. It was binary.

*smiles*

I love my family tumblrweed. I love them as much as one can love their online friends. I have so much fun with them. It has been a year since we've found each other as a tumblrweed found family. I've gotten to know all of them well.

Very well.

Unsolved ask, not on the jury, error on a statement, several identity-revealing mishaps, not the Fish and...

There is one thing I know as well as I do my mutuals.

My fandoms.

You cannot outsmart me in that area.

Merlin is immortal. He was with Arthur and the knights at the original Round Table by Arthur's side. He was a boy, then he became a man as Kilgharrah called him. He was under constant threat of being burnt at the pyre for being a sorcerer. The Battle at Camlann, Morgana lost, Merlin's sob, Arthur's death.

Not only do we share the same fandom, Alara, but you also came to me as a 'beta' for your riddle in your evil tim drake fic. And thus, you revealed your thinking process all those months ago. I know you, cousin.

notheaussieanon was also active the same time as I was, immediately getting to my notifications. And that, by itself, revealed to me that despite the name, the user, in fact, is Aussie. (Or has weird ass sleep schedules. Or both.)

The riddle battle was only an excuse for me to further dig in and think about the evidence. And your riddles have provided the confirmation. Cygnus is not behind the account. Neither is Tristi or Sprite or Vibey or Peri.

Only one person is in the same Merlin fandom as me, is Aussie and has my discord.

@foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego, Evie, you have been unmasked.

#the second unmasking #thank you so so so much for making this SOLVEABLE

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beardedmrbean · 1 month ago

Note

https://youtube.com/shorts/tfrvtVODQ5A?si=nWmux3kF1oDG-QH6

Oh what's this one going to be.......

The $750 goes out to everyone regardless of need so they can get whatever it is they need immediately without having to wait for the bureaucrats to start going through the applications for aid.

People that get those could have a billion dollars in the bank or nothing in the bank, but when it comes time to start actually going to work the person with a billion isn't going to get anything and the person with zero will (likely) get some aid in getting them back on their feet and time in whatever passes for a FEMA shelter.

I haven't heard anything about that being a loan either, with good reason.

Here's the AFP fact check on a lot of the various internet rumors about the aid going out.

AFP ranks high on my personal trust meter, for whatever that's worth to any of y'all.

_____________________________________

Jason Thomas Barnosky, associate director of the RAND Corporation's Disaster Management & Resilience Program (archived here), confirmed in an October 8 email that the $750 aid is a one-time payment that the agency does not consider a loan.

FEMA's rumor response page says recipients only have to pay the agency back if they get duplicate benefits through an insurance provider or another source.

"If you have insurance that covers your temporary housing costs, but you ask FEMA to advance you some money to help you pay for those costs while your insurance is delayed, you will need to pay that money back to FEMA after you receive your insurance settlement."

"There are other forms of assistance that you may qualify for to receive and Serious Needs Assistance is an initial payment you may receive while FEMA assesses your eligibility for additional funds," the agency's rumor response page says.

An October 4 press release about Helene relief efforts lists several kinds of additional aid survivors may be eligible to receive, including money to help repair or replace a damaged home (archived here). Other types of assistance could cover the repair or replacement of personal property and the costs of temporary lodging, medical or dental care, funerals, childcare and transportation.

The maximum aid for fixing or rebuilding a home, for example, is $42,500 (archived here). The exact amount depends on the damage assessed during a FEMA inspection.

Those seeking assistance can apply online at disasterassistance.gov, by calling 1-800-621-3362 or by downloading FEMA's app. ___________________________________

Went through the same thing when Maui was on fire and everyone was screaming about them only getting $700 when it was just the same scenario we see here.

Not blaming people for getting pissed, there's a lot of bad information out there and going in with a knee jerk response on the whole thing based on what you're seeing online and such is something that is totally nonpartisan, (see people screaming about women now being forced to carry ectopic pregnancies or arrested for a miscarriage after RvW got overturned) so it's just a thing.

Next time this happens some more people will know better now.

#something kinda orangeish

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ilikekidsshows · 2 months ago

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Lately I've been seeing a lot of people attacking others for shipping a problematic ship in X and this somewhat bring back a bad memories when I was still active in ml tweet back then.

It was around Luka episode introduction, I think when I saw someone asked Thomas about Luka's age and he said Luka is Juleka's brother, older by 2 years. Make senses considering we never see him in Dupont and how he has part time job that time. But I also saw how people feel disgusted because Luka being Marinette love interest who's older than her makes him a potential groomer because of the imbalance power dynamic.

thing is, when I looked back at the reason why people become anti Lukanette and how current Adrienette dynamic is, it become... Very funny if not ironic? Like how they talked about power dynamic and imbalance in Lukanette and yet remain silent at how much imbalance the current Adrienette is. This also make me realize that you don't need to have an age gap in a ship to make an imbalance power dynamic or be the older one in a ship to groom the other, because power isn't always about who's older, but who has more information and knowledge. Maybe I'm jumping too far, idk, but aren't what Ladybug did in s4 basically groomed Cat Noir into obedience? By gaslight him, manipulating information, silent treatment and that judo throw.

---

I will say this: people online have turned the concept of grooming into both this big, scary boogeyman but also this thing that happens constantly with so much ease it could be accidental. Basically, there's this idea that we need to constantly be on the lookout for groomers because the world is crawling with them. There's a reason for this: online fan spaces are easy hunting grounds for groomers and the internet acting as an in-between makes the people involved ignore personal boundaries more easily because it all feels less real. So of course terminally online youths are scared of a threat that exists primarily in terminally online ingroups.

So, a lot of fanspaces treat age differences between characters as inherently suspicious. It doesn't matter if they're both adults or both kids, if there's an age difference, it's “grooming” to these people. Like, yeah, it's reasonable to wonder what someone in a very different life situation would want with someone who’s basically “dragging behind” from their perspective, but sometimes you just like a person and want to hang out with them and don’t necessarily want anything with them. Grooming, in this context, is a very specific thing that isn’t just about age. It’s a pattern of behavior where someone purposefully manipulates someone else to get them to fill a certain role for them, usually that of a romantic and/or sexual partner. Grooming is actions, not a situation.

Not all unequal power dynamics involve grooming, but I get what you mean. It feels like there should be a word to describe this kind of relationship, but there isn't anything specific. It's just “toxic relationship”, “one sided relationship” and “being used” when Marinette is explicitly shown benefiting and preferring when her partner doesn't ever show any personal feelings about anything. She prefers him joking and therefore keeping a distance between herself and his feelings. It’s the same way with Luka, whose family situation makes it look like he’s gone through parentification or at least suffers from abandonment issues, which would make Luka another case of a traumatized boyfriend whose trauma manifests in a way that Marinette can and does take advantage of.

The thing that makes Marinette not the groomer in either of these situations is that she didn't cause these boys to act this way; they conveniently came to her pre-traumatized/conditioned and she merely shamelessly took advantage. In the case of Cat Noir the matter is grayer, since his responses to her are reactions to her treatment of him as someone inconsequential, but him reacting to such treatment with submission instead of outrage was trained into him by Gabriel and Emilie.

#ml salt #dats chats

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nebulastarss · 25 days ago

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The story for the catbatfam au: Part 1

The Waynes:

Martha and Thomas Wayne, newly married and excited for the future, bought a cat from Europe. Specifically a Savannah Cat from Britian. (Look them up please they're so cute and BIG) The cat was slightly distrustful at first, but warmed up over time. He had battle scars, tears in his ears for example. They named him Alfred, and thought of him as a friend. He was their emotional support. Now, it's been years, they're out of college, they're settled.

They also don't want kids. Martha grew up as a celebrity and has no idea what to give a kid but is pretty sure that whatever she would say would be wrong. Thomas is not home enough to fully support a kid without his wives help, and neither of them have the time to go to parenting classes, not to mention the paparazzi. (thank you Lady Gaga for teaching me how to spell paparazzi)

So they look at their older cat Alfred and they say (to their cat. They've been in the habit of talking to him like he's a person for years) "would you like to co-parent with us."

So they buy a kitten. A Maine Coon kitten that they name Bruce. Bruce is a well behaved boy, and Alfred quickly gets into the habit of following around the kitten to unsure he doesn't accidently cause any trouble.

(Hey how old is Alfred here? Cats don't live that long blah blah- shush. Age isn't real and cats are immortal. Screw logic)

Bruce grows up happy and loved, and without his owners dying because human!Bruce was the one to drag them to the theater in the first place. He never gets neutered but he never like. Does things that unneutered male cats do. He doesn't even spray??? Like they fully expected him to do that but he just doesn't. So they forget.

Bruce grows into a well-loved cat, and starts breaking out. At first they don't notice, but then he has mud under his claws, bits of leaves on his back. And no one knows how he's doing it. Alfred isn't spilling, that old man just leaves the room if questioned. Bruce doesn't seem to be getting into fights, no scratch marks or bitten ears, but they can't figure out how to keep him in.

One day, they hear scratching at the door, open it up.

Why is Bruce holding an American Shorthair kitten in his mouth. Where did you get that.

So they bring the baby to the vet, find a microchip. He belongs to 2 people who died today. Oh no. What do you mean there's dried human blood on the babies paws. Oh NO.

They bring the kitten home. The name Richard is on his microchip. He does not answer to Richard. One of the performers get in touch, asking if "Little Dickie" is doing ok. The kitten only answers to Dick. Thomas loves it, Martha is fondly exasperated for at least a week.

Bruce has gone full father. Dick is his kitten, 100%. The same way Alfred was clearly co-parenting, Bruce has labeled Alfred as a grandfather along with Martha and Thomas. They're overjoyed. They're grandparents to their kitty baby. He grew up so fast.

(The house keepers have a running joke, pretending Bruce is human and saying stuff like "Oh he didn't even finish college before settling down" "took an orphan off the streets, so selfless, just like his parents". All of the butlers and maids love their weird, eccentric family)

Dick keeps following Bruce on his ventures. (they've installed a large doggie door. If he's gonna get out, they can at least monitor it.) Online comes a video from the police Commissioner's private account, apparently Dick befriended his cat, Babs. Since the Wayne's are a public family, everyone knows who the Wayne cats are. And Bruce is pretty goddamn identifiable. (How many black and white Maine Coons are there in Gotham? Most likely: 1)

Dick gets fixed. They figure that Bruce being unfixed is what caused him to pick up Dick, a kitten in need. Like a weird, cat version of asexuality. They don't fix Bruce.

It's been a few months when Bruce picks up another one, a scruffy Cymric kitten with matted fur and a ripped color, faded tag reading Jason. His vet visit is actually pretty urgent, since he's clearly not doing great and has multiple infections. He was clearly not treated well by the people on the streets, having been kicked about at least once (by the Joker, which is where Bruce found him) They call the number on the back of the collar, and discover the Todd family.

A dead goon husband and struggling addict wife, who is not fit to look after herself let alone a cat. Faced with charges of animal neglect and abuse, Catherine goes to rehab. Once clean, she doesn't ask for him back as she feels she isn't responsible enough, and needs to work on herself more first. She does visit sometimes though.

Dick tries to play too roughly with Jason at first, but after some baps to the ears from Alfred, he calms down and lets Jason recover. Cuddles are mandatory tho. The kitten will be groomed and he is not getting out of it.

#batman au #catbatfam series #so i posted this on accident and genuinely thought i lost it #so its part of a series now #batman #alfred pennyworth #martha wayne #thomas wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne

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ghostfaceprincess · 6 months ago

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How They Would React To You Showing Them Something You Bought Online:

Michael Myers:

• Pats your head and nods, thinking it’s nice.

• Is a little scared of you using a knife to open the box.

• Doesn’t mind how much it was, as long as you’re happy.

• … Okay, now he wants a matching one!

Freddy Krueger:

• Sighs in fake annoyance, but giving a smile, as you use his hand to cut open the box.

• “Ah, look at that- it’s for me? A… gift? For me?”

• He’s very touched.

• Showing off his new gift every chance he gets.

Jason Voorhees:

• Claps happily as you’re happy.

• Nodding as you explain and show your purchase to him.

• Waves off how much it costs, not caring, just wanting you happy.

• Being gentle with it any time he touches it.

Billy Loomis:

• “Online shopping? Ah, Stu does that shit too!”

• Helping you unbox it because he’s lowkey scared you’ll hurt yourself.

• “You used my card, didn’t you?”

• He doesn’t mind though.

Stu Macher:

• “Oh, I absolutely love online shopping! Show me, show me, lemme see what you got!”

• The most gentle with it.

• “You used my card? That’s okay, angel, I don’t mind!”

• Is very smiley because you’re happy.

Charles Lee Ray:

• Tries to be annoyed but just can’t; you’re too cute, all excited and showing him.

• “It took how long to get here!?”

• “You can order more, if you want.”

• To be nice, he cleans up all the unboxing trash.

Tiffany Valentine:

• “No way! I have that exact same one, look!”

• You’re twins now and she’s so excited.

• Helping you unbox because she doesn’t want her sweet face to get hurt.

• “We need more matching stuff!”

Bubba Sawyer:

• Clapping as you show him! Yes, yes! Very nice!

• Doesn’t wanna touch it because he’s afraid he’ll ruin it.

• Does help you clean up though.

• He loves it so much when you show him anything.

Thomas Hewitt:

• Is gonna make sure no one steals it or breaks it.

• Rips the box open for you but somehow doesn’t manage to ruin the item.

• Nods as you ask him to clean up.

• Smiles to himself as you walk away with your item.

Art the Clown:

• Fighting (destroying) the knife you used to open the box because you accidentally cut yourself with it.

• Smiles widely as you show him what you got (after he tends to your wound).

• Silent claps.

• Nods when you ask him if he wants one too!

The Creeper:

• Can’t help but sniff it at first.

• Smile of approval. (Y’know that cute smile he does where his eyes close in Jeeper’s Creepers 2? Yeah, that one! 🥰)

• Playing…? With the trash…?

• Is very happy that you’re happy.

Thanks for reading! Please leave requests, I love doing them! 🦇 This is my last imagine post for the day, I’m a bit tired and wanna spend time with my bf. I also tattooed my hand and need to let it rest! ❤️‍🩹

#horror #slasher #slashers #michael myers #horror movies #freddy krueger #jason voorhees #billy loomis #stu macher #charles lee ray #tiffany valentine #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #art the clown #the creeper #slasher imagines #slasher imagine

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pjisskullourful · 1 month ago

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ⓢⓐⓥⓘⓝⓖ ⓗⓞⓡⓢⓔⓢ

🎃 Thomas × reader

18+ readers only!! 🔥 sexy smutty explicit halloween schenanigans

° Thomas Raggi/female reader insert

° you want to be the sexiest cowgirl at the halloween party to impress your friend-with-benefits thomas [based october 2024]

wordcount::: 6,542

° requests are soo open! but commissions get priority, secure your spot in my priority list here!

Was it the most inventive and interesting costume at the Halloween party? No. But you had put just as much thought into this outfit as you had with past year’s characters.

A lot of effort had gone toward being the sexiest cowgirl possible. It felt like you had visited every online costume store that the internet had to offer - needing something skimpy, but not too simple, an ensemble that you could feel fashionable in, rather than embarrassed. You had planned out every detail.

But it was all worth it because you had gotten the attention of the one person that you wanted to impress - Thomas.

It had been three months of you being in a friends with benefits arrangement with the guitarist. Securing his attention and keeping his interest felt like a need. It didn’t matter how much time you spent together, you were always craving him.

Everyone else at Ethan’s party felt like a distraction, Thomas approaching you was when your night truly began. He hadn’t gone for a scary costume either. Instead he was wearing a construction workers’ neon orange vest and a pair of baggy jeans. The makeup was the hero of the look, bold, black and covering so much of his face, almost like a mask. Its appearance made you want to laugh as he crossed the room over to you.

“Hey honey.” He said, standing next to you. But he didn’t get too close, not touching you. The fact that you were sleeping with each other was being kept secret, you had both agreed that was the best way to play this, for now.

Even though you knew he wasn’t about to kiss or show you any affection, your heart still fluttered at having him so close. It was all that potential, what you knew just being in his company could lead to.

“Am I the dream guest for your podcast?” You joked in reference to his costume.

“Hell yeah, doll. You will be perfect to help me spice things up.” He said, knowing exactly what you were talking about. He looked amused and you hoped he hadn’t already heard that quote too many times tonight - you wanted him to think you stood out from the crowd.

“Now I know why you wouldn’t tell me what your costume is. Because if I could have, I definitely would have kept you from dressing as Jojo Siwa.” You teased.

“Oh, because she’s a better dancer than me and I couldn’t pull it off?” He assumed.

“No, because she could never dance as well as you.” You said, the flattery made him smile.

His eyes began to move down the front of your body, his attention unwavering despite all of the activity in this room. You had already seen him looking at you and your costume a couple of times tonight, his eyes seeking you out amongst the other party-goers. But now he was getting a proper look and he seemed to be savouring it.

“You look amazing.” He said, yet to bring his gaze back up to your face. You considered that he could be trying to count every black patch of your leotard’s cow print.

“Yeah, you like it?” You asked, giving the matching hat a little adjustment.

He stepped in a little closer and lowered his voice. “I love it, doll. You know how into the whole country and western aesthetic I am. And the way you’re doing it is setting a new fuckin’ standard, it’s never looked so good.”

You could feel how flushed your cheeks had become and you were smiling widely at him. “You’re very sweet, thank you.”

He licked his lips, now close enough that you could smell his combination of cologne and cigarettes. “Do you want to know which part is my favourite?”

“Yes, please.” You said and your voice didn’t have the same conversational tone that you had used when talking with your other friends tonight.

“Your lasso.” He said, brushing his fingers against where the prop rope was attached to your belt. “That’s a nice detail.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You said.

With enough concentration, you could see past the bizarre makeup that surrounded both of his eyes, seeing the actual expression here. There was a sparkle in the warm hazel, something you had seen in the past when he was behaving cheekily. That was the look that he got when he was going to steer a regular conversation into innuendo.

“Can I?” He asked, even though he was already taking the prop off of your belt.

Now he stopped looking at you, concentrating on what he was doing as he unwound the rope. You didn’t know what he was about to do, but he had your full attention.

“When we’ve been in America, I have gotten the chance to hang out with real cowboys- people who own farms, have ridden a horse in the past twenty-four hours type. And I guess they like my enthusiasm because they’re always really nice to me, they’ve even taught me a few things.” He said as he created a loose loop with the rope.

“Like how to ride a mechanical bull.” You said. He had been quite proud to show you that footage, it was a skill he liked to surprise people with.

He threaded the tail of the rope through the knot he had just made. “Right. Probably they just like the way a tourist’s mind can be blown by what is so normal to them.” He secured the large loop with another knot. “One of the other things they’ve shown me is how to make and throw a proper, functioning lasso.

“It’s pretty much useless for me to know, ‘cause when am I ever around animals that need to be wrangled?” He said with a little laugh. You were enjoying watching his hands work, you knew how skilled his fingers were, memories tickling you at their movements. “But it’s a cool party trick.”

“Definitely, I had no idea you were so good with ropes.” You said, blushing when he looked at you. Neither of you had to say anything suggestive to change the tone of your comment, the suggestion was already there.

He smirked. “Pet, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He started to show you a trick, getting the rope and its loop into motion. He held the length slack and got the loop parallel to the floor, then with a working of his wrist, he got the lasso to twirl in the air.

“That’s so cool. Will you teach me some of your tricks?” You asked.

“Let me show you the best one.” He said and he started to lift his hand above his head.

He held the lasso at the end of the shank and twisted his wrist in a continuous movement. The loop swung and twirled off to the side of his head, not touching his hair. He could maintain this smooth momentum, even as he took some careful steps back from you.

“Can you take your hat off for me?” He asked and you did it immediately, holding the wide-brimmed hat in front of your chest.

You were smiling at him, already so impressed. You were confident that he could do this, then what would he do once you were captured by his rope? He got a little further away, giving the lasso some quick glances, but mostly looking at you.

Then his stance changed, it seemed like he wasn’t going to put any more distance between you. He got his feet planted firmly, at shoulders’ width. You tried to not move and you could tell he was visualising his throw.

“Thomas Raggi!” Ethan’s loud voice suddenly halted everything. “You are not about to start throwing rope around inside of my home.”

Thomas let the rope go limp but he didn’t give it back to you. “What, why not? I haven’t knocked anything. I know what I’m doing, I can do it safely.”

Ethan was dressed as Beetlejuice, but he found a way to look very serious as he came over. “No way, you’ll bump a glass out of someone’s hand or you’ll hit something breakable. There’s a whole yard out there, take it outside.”

“Yes, mother.” Thomas sarcastically replied. He started to gather up the rope and he made a gesture for you to accompany him, which you were more than happy to do. “We’ll play outside where we can’t break your favourite vase.”

“You better.” Ethan warned, playing along now. “Or you’re gonna find out just how much of a bitch karma can be.”

Thomas laughed this off as he started toward the backdoor. You kept up with him, not paying much attention to the other party-goers as you passed them.

There were a couple of groups hanging out on the veranda. But you and Thomas were the only ones to walk down the stairs, onto the grass. It was a little more alone with him than you had been before.

“You’re gonna lasso me, right?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s my plan and it was going to be all cool and sexy before we got interrupted.”

You gave him a very quick kiss on his cheek as you both stopped walking, out of earshot of anyone else. “It’s still going to be sexy.”

He smiled and he started to straighten the rope, the lasso was still secured. You took some more steps ahead of him, putting about a metre between you. You turned to face him, your hat held at your side.

He raised the hand holding the rope above his head. He looked up as he began to swing the lasso, checking his technique as he picked up speed.

When he looked back at you, you could see how hard he was concentrating. You hadn’t planned for this, but it felt nice to have so much of his focus on you. It only added to the whole experience that you found his concentrating face so sexy (despite the purposefully ridiculous makeup).

He waited for the right moment and briefly released the rope, letting the loop glide through the air toward you. He had judged the momentum correctly and the lasso fell over you. Your head and shoulders passed through his loop, before the rope rested around your chest.

You looked up, grinning as he pulled the length of the rope taut. “Are you serious? You made that look so easy.” He wore a bashful kind of smile as he started to gather the rope up, forcing you to step toward him. “That’s so cool.”

“It just takes practice.” He said, continuing to bring you closer. “And with enough of it, even someone as uncoordinated as me can do something kinda impressive.”

You only had eyes for him as he guided you across the distance between you. Your heartbeat was more noticeable in your chest and your mind was quite quickly getting populated with ideas. You were still smiling widely as you stepped into the space directly in front of him.

Your eyes went to his lips (how long had it been since you had tasted them?). Then your interest went to his hands, watching how his fingers manipulated the rope.

“I’m a big fan of that trick.” You said.

He took the hat out of your hands so that he could return it to your head. “Then it was worth learning just to impress the world’s prettiest cowgirl.”

You licked your lips, forgetting the rest of the party as you kept staring at him. “What if I wanted you to keep me tied up?”

“This wouldn’t be the right rope for that, doll.” He said, his voice low and evoking memories of intimacy. “It’s fine to be part of your costume, I’m not critiquing that. But this type of rope is too abrasive.” He rubbed some of it against your bare skin to help make his point. “It would be okay at first. But then it would start to irritate, and maybe even hurt your skin.” He stopped moving the rope against you and you found the feeling of his fingers on your skin to be immediately superior. “Restraining someone in a way that’s pleasurable and safe takes a special type of bondage rope.”

“I had no idea.” You admitted.

This wasn’t the first time he had been able to best you with his knowledge of all things kink - you doubted it would be the last instance. Before him, you had never experienced the dynamic of a dominant and submissive. He was far more adventurous than any of your past partners, introducing you to so many new things.

But he never teased you over what you didn’t know. Instead of laughing at you, he loved teaching you. He fed your curiosity and you were wonderfully rewarded for each question you brought to him.

“That’s okay. It’s the kind of thing people learn through mistakes, but now you don’t have to make the same one.” He said.

You weren’t making any attempts to free yourself from his lasso. “Where does someone get this special type of rope from?”

“I got most of mine from online stores.” He said. “Would my plaything like to feel the difference for herself?”

Instantly you were nodding your head. “Yes. Yes please, I would love that.”

He licked his lips as he smiled. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t mind leaving the party so soon?” You asked as he began undoing the knots of the lasso.

“Nah, you’re the only person that I really wanted to spend time with tonight anyway.” He replied.

… … …

“You have to take that makeup off, Thomas.” You had delivered this request to him in every possible phrasing, repeating yourself countless times during the drive to his home.

But he still pretended to be surprised to hear it, just to mess with you. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me?”

“Not while that shit is on your face.” You wore a smile even as you protested.

You were leading the way into his home. Thanks to how frequently you visited here, you had the layout completely memorised. It was all so familiar to you that you instantly felt comfortable.

He finished locking the door and rushed to catch up with you. “What if I cover your eyes?” He blocked your vision with one of his hands. “Then you don’t even have to see it.”

You giggled and pushed his arm away. “Not good enough, I would know it’s there and it would distract me. I’m not gonna be able to get truly turned on while you’re looking like a Try Not to Cringe challenge thumbnail.”

He sighed. “Alright, it’s coming off. Just for you, I’m gonna wipe all this off.”

“Thanks.”

“Meet me in the bedroom, baby.” He said and he pressed a fast kiss to your cheek before beginning in a different direction to you. “And don’t get too used to giving me orders.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You said.

You progressed to the master bedroom and went for a lamp that you knew provided flattering lighting. Instead of placing yourself on the unmade bed straight away, you started to remove your costume. You took off your boots and the cow print arm warmers. You created a neat little pile for all of it. But you didn’t remove the hat - it still appealed to you, even if it didn’t perfectly match the lacy lingerie that you wore.

He was in a room too far for you to hear exactly what he was doing, it was all just vague background sounds as you tried to pick the best way to pose for his arrival. You placed your knees on the mattress, sitting up as you watched the doorway that you faced.

When he walked into your sight, you were pleased to see the makeup was gone, so was the overly-bright vest he had been wearing. There were no more distractions. You saw him as just Thomas, which was the sole thing you desired.

“Is it too cheesy if I say something like: giddy up?” You asked.

As he approached the bed, his eyes repeatedly appraised your body in an up-and-down motion. “Here’s the thing about me: I love cheese, calling something cheesy is not a negative to me.” He placed his hands to your hips and you could finally fully enjoy his touch, no longer worrying about who could see.

“Also, you look so fucking good that you can say anything and I’ll think it sounds fantastic.” He said, his hold on you firm as he started to lean in.

You grinned as you linked your arms around his neck. You tilted your head to keep the hat’s brim from getting in the way, and your mouths met.

You melted into the kiss, it was a relief to no longer hold yourself back. He wrapped an arm around you and you arched your back to press yourself firmly against him. Your bare skin met his and the only scent in your nostrils belonged to him.

You tightened your arms around him and started to lean back. You took him with you as you reclined back to the mattress. You kept on kissing him, your lips touched by the moisture of his mouth.

You laid your back flat on the bed and he readjusted to accommodate you. He braced himself with his knees on the bed, his body hovering over yours.

“Mmn, baby…” You moaned, elated by the feeling of his hips pressing into yours.

“You are just so sexy. You’ve done a lot, a lot of great costumes. You’re fantastic at Halloween, you know you are. But this is my favourite.” He said, pausing to give you more kisses. “I absolutely love it, baby.”

You smiled as he started to trail his lips down your neck. “I’m glad you think it’s so great…” You let your fingernails drag across his exposed back. “I wore it to impress you.”

He quickly lifted his head, eyebrows raised as he looked at you. “You did it to- what?” He smiled, it was wide and honest. “Really?”

“Yeah. I had a lot of different ideas, there were some spooky costumes that I thought could be cool- we can go through the Pinterest board I made later, if you want.” You said. “But then I thought that you would like this and I just locked in on the idea.”

“That's so sweet. Are you kidding me? You're so cute, I just-” He seemingly didn't have the words to finish this sentence, so he kissed you instead.

You felt butterflies in your belly as you kissed him back. You felt so valued as his lips lingered on yours.

Your night was concluding in the perfect manner and when you felt him writhing against you, you instantly moved with him.

“Now it’s definitely my favourite costume you’ve ever worn.” He said, making you giggle. A crinkle formed on the bridge of your nose as the smile on your face endured. “It’s a really sweet gesture.” He brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek. “So I’m just all on your mind like that?”

“Yeah, it happens a lot.” You admitted, blushing.

“You’re a really good girl.” He said, his expression becoming more serious. Then he snatched the hat from your head and sat up, out of your embrace. He placed the hat on top of his shaggy hair. “Now, are you gonna be a good student while I teach you a thing or two about ropes?”

“I’m ready to learn.” You said.

He got to his feet, walking across the room. You watched his every step as he went to the wardrobe. He slid its door open, then crouched down, going for a lower compartment.

He returned to the mattress with four separate bundles of rope in his hands. He offered these to you and you took a black bundle. “Unwind it, I want you to feel the difference in quality. They’re made from totally different materials.”

You did as instructed, letting the length of rope unfold. But you found your attention wavering when he emptied his hands so he could undo the fly of his jeans. You hardly acknowledged the rope passing between your fingers because you were so focused on the fact that his underwear was black. He pushed the denim down and you saw how the front of the briefs were stretched by his erection.

He simply stepped out of the pants and then picked up one of the rope bundles. “You see, it’s so much softer, right?”

“Not from my point of view.” You said, fixing your eyes on his dick.

He saw where your attention laid and he laughed, before prompting you to look up by putting his fingers underneath your chin. “Come on little slut, it’s time to concentrate.”

You smiled, working your fingers on the rope some more. “It’s definitely smoother, I like how it feels more.”

“Yeah, this is designed to feel comfortable on your skin for, like, hours.” He said, pulling any twists out of the rope. “Do you think you could handle it?”

You handed your rope over to him. “There’s only one way to find out.”

He briefly bent down to kiss you. “Alright, I think that lingerie should come off now. As sexy as it looks, I don’t want it to get in my way later.”

“Sure.” You said, immediately unclasping your bra. You removed these last items then sat back down on his bed, completely exposed for his every whim.

“I need you to tell me the second that it feels like some part of your body might be going numb. We can’t mess with your blood’s circulation, it’s actually super serious.” He said.

You held his gaze as you nodded. “Okay, I’ll take it seriously.”

“Thank you.” He said. “Now, bring your legs up and just fold them in front of your chest, with your feet still on the bed.” You repositioned your legs, but he provided extra guidance by putting a hand on your knee to move it away from the other. “Now, now toy, do you really think I want your legs together?”

You smiled and kept your thighs apart. You felt a little flutter in your pussy as he thoroughly looked you over.

“Much better.” He said. “Is that comfortable for you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Great.” He said and he sat down at your side, the black rope ready between his hands. “I’m gonna start like this.”

He folded the rope in half before beginning a loop around your ankle. Then he wrapped the rope around your thigh too. He gave it a bit of security by feeding the ends through the two strands, pulling and letting you feel the first hints of tension. It excited you and you licked your lips, watching as his work continued.

He wrapped the rope around more times, creating firm bands that would keep your leg in this bent position. Once he was satisfied with the amount of loops, he threaded the tails through the strands again.

You marvelled at the quickness of his hands, his fingers too fast for you to properly follow. It reminded you of when you watched him play guitar - all you could do was admire because you were seeing something you would never be able to replicate. He was an undeniable master.

He created a couple of knots, then took his hands away. The rope remained in place, still feeling just as tight. He looked at you and you showed him a smile.

“How does that feel, baby?” He asked.

“It’s good.”

“Yeah, would you like me to tie the other side?”

“Yes, please.”

He gave you an all-too-quick kiss, then got up and relocated himself to the opposite side of your body. He had a new length of rope in hand, which was doubled over before he wrapped it around your ankle.

“What is this position called?” You asked.

He smirked. “It’s not named anything sexy- this is crab. But don’t worry, you look so much better than that sounds.”

“Wow, thanks.” You sarcastically replied.

He copied what he had done on the other side, restraining this leg just as easily. You were now entirely immobile.

“Some people would say this is done now, full crab has been achieved.” He said. “But there’s another part I want to do. It involves your arms, are you down for that?”

Eagerly, you nodded, you were practically desperate to know how it felt to go all the way like that. You were looking forward to saying that you had tried shibari, with the knowledge that you had fully tried it. This wasn’t going to be a half-hearted attempt.

“I’m definitely down for that, baby.” You said.

“Brilliant. Can you line your wrist up with the binds on your thigh?” He asked.

You placed your wrist against the outside of your thigh as he untied a new rope bundle. He created secure bands around your wrist quickly.

“I’m not the only one who was enjoying your costume at the party.” He said, affixing your hand with his knots.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Do the same with your other hand.” He said as he switched sides. “I’m talking about other people checking you out. You looked damn sexy and people were noticing, you had a lot of eyes on you. Especially your ass, the little booty shorts looked so good. You didn’t see any of the stares?”

“Stares? Why would anybody stare at me? I'm not calling you a liar, but…”

“Did you not hear what I just said? Your ass, the whole sexy costume.” He said.

You were blushing as you shook your head. “I didn't see anybody checking me out. Well, aside from you.”

“Yeah.” He said, making the knots to secure your other hand. “There were a lot of people seeing how fine you are. But I'm the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“That's right, baby.” You said.

He got to his feet and stood beside the bed, looking you up-and-down. His eyes lingered in certain spots and the pleased look on his face made your heart beat faster.

“Is that comfortable?” He asked.

Your balance remained intact, your weight distributed between your feet and ass. It wasn't too far from a regular sitting position and you didn't see why you couldn't maintain it. “Yeah, it's good.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in and you longed to tug down his underwear, it should have been within your capabilities. “Do you wanna get fucked like this?”

“Dying for it.” You said.

He smiled as he bent down a little, giving you a kiss. He didn't linger like you wanted him to. You kept your eyes closed for a moment longer, looking when you heard the sigh of a drawer opening. He picked out a condom and turned back to you.

He finally shed his underwear, then covered his cock with the latex. Then he was back to directly in front of you and you were liberated from the wait for more kisses. He cradled your face in his hands as your mouths crushed together. You drew him in for deeper kisses, sucking on his top lip. It was the only way you could properly express yourself. Trying to wiggle yourself forward on your butt couldn’t get you as close as you wanted to be.

He helped to bring your bodies closer together, doing the work that you couldn’t. He leaned into you, letting you feel his skin on yours. You arched your back, trying to press more of yourself against him - feeling him was your only goal and it consumed you.

Your tongue glided between his lips, exploring greater intimacy. He grabbed one of your hips with his hand as his body settled against yours more. You made the most of what you had because it didn’t seem like he was about to join you on the bed. You massaged your tongue against the roof of his mouth.

He pressed his dick against you, prompting you to realise how perfectly your genitals lined up. He steadily rocked his hips, rubbing his length on you. The movements didn’t need to be hurried, it was enough to get your heart beating faster at this promising start.

He tilted his pelvis and you soon felt his tip spreading your pussy open. He broke away from the kiss with a gasp as he eased his length deeper. He held your chin in his hand as you listened to how much he was losing breath. You kept your eyes shut, noticing this new pressure building in you.

“Oh, it’s good. It’s so, so, so good.” He whispered as he gradually filled more into you. “That pussy is so fucking good, toy.”

You could only whimper in response as you were feeling your excitement reaching you on a new level. Your pussy fluttered as it adjusted to having him inside.

Your lips found his again, kissing and sucking a little in your neediness. He worked to catch up with you, tapping into your impassioned rhythm.

He shifted his stance, resting one of his knees on the bed beside you. On his next thrust he could move in deeper, prompting you to moan directly into his mouth.

He let you feel hints of a tempo as he experimented with his range of motion, seeing what he could do without losing his balance. More of your moisture slicked him with his every movement.

Then he hit onto the consistency, working into you with far less pausing. His swiftness reduced your time to recover and you could feel how everything was starting to build up.

You got invested in his rhythm, eager to discover what it could give you next, so you started to move with him. Your balance didn’t feel as certain, but you liked the enhanced friction too much to want to stop. It was a minimal pumping of your hips but you could time it to match his plunges forward and let him finish at a deeper point of your cunt.

You writhed with him, the feeling of his body rubbing on yours proved to be the only thing you needed to think about. You savoured every second of it and it felt just as thrilling as it had on that first night.

The synchronisation of your bodies was somewhat fumbled when you began to fall back. There wasn’t any way for you to pull yourself out of this momentum and he did nothing to save you from gravity.

You reached the mattress with a gasp, feeling the restrictions of the binds so completely. You squirmed a little, trying to figure out your next move, what could you possibly do? You lifted your head so you could look down at him.

Before you had to make any decisions, he slammed his cock all the way into you. Your thought process instantly evaporated and you saw the determined look on his face. He grabbed at the ropes on one of your thighs and fucked into you again, then slowly dragged his dick back.

Your chest swelled as you felt a little like melting in response to the hungry pace that he was setting up. You felt him hit your g-spot. You felt his balls slapping against your butt. Your head fell back as you welcomed the complete loss of your composure.

You heard his ragged breathing as he seemingly gave all of his energy to each buck. You found it a little easier to move with him now, tensing your back and lifting your hips according to his speedy pace until it felt like your whole body was on fire. Your hands curled into fists and you paid into the exertion every time.

“Fuck, Tommy…” You strained through gritted teeth.

Getting closer to the edge, you had to work to keep your grinding consistent. Now your cunt was spasming and there were uncontrollable twitches through your body. But you were desperate to stick with him.

“Are you still liking it, darling? You still like being bound?” He asked.

Your toes curled as you glided your hips up. “I love it.” Your throat tightened, changing the sound of your voice. “I've never felt more like your plaything.”

“Because that's what you are.” He said through heavy breaths.

His flow couldn’t be interrupted by your unpredictable twitches, he was locked into these jolts. He kept his grip on the ropes, using this to continuously yank you forward on his dick, meaning you were always exactly where he needed.

“I might keep you tied up.” He said. “That way I can keep fucking you over…” He lost his smoothness, adding emphasis to his words with rough thrusts into you. “...and over and over and over.”

You sputtered wordlessly, on the verge of being ruined. Your nerves were on fire and the sensitivities were now ruling your body, completely inescapable.

“Fuck, I can feel that you’re getting close.” He said.

“Yeah, really fucking close, Tommy.” You said, so receptive to his movements in your elevated state.

He eased off ever so slightly. “Hold it for me. Can you?” You groaned and bit into your bottom lip. “Can you try? There’s another position I wanna do while you’re tied like this.”

It took effort for you to draw in a deep breath, then you nodded. “Alright.”

He pulled out and you tried to use this time to pull yourself back together, at least a little. More deep breaths came as your heart rate grew less irregular.

Thankfully he didn’t require you to make any moves, because you didn’t have the strength or coordination for that. He did all of the work for you, climbing up onto the mattress and putting his hands on you. He turned you around, your head in the direction of the headboard now. Then he began to tip you onto your side.

“You trust me, right?” He asked, the calculated look on his face telling you that he was planning the next move.

You laughed. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far into the whole tying up thing if I didn’t trust you.”

“True.” He said. He gave you another gentle push, getting you onto your front. “Is that comfortable?”

“Um…” There was a decent amount of pressure on your legs now, and your head was too far to allow you to rest it down.

“Hang on, hang on.” He said, rushing to make some adjustments.

He succeeded at getting you into a slightly different (but definitely improved) position. Your weight was transferred to your chest, which now rested on the mattress. Your ass was lifted into the air, a curve in your back.

“That’s good.” You said.

“Yeah, I’m liking it a lot, too.” He said, caressing your ass. “But you can just tell me if it starts getting uncomfortable.”

You rested your cheek on the mattress, angling your head so that you could have him in your field of vision. “Do I need to keep delaying my orgasm?”

“What?” He asked before he paused for a moment. “Oh, no. You can have that whenever you feel it coming on.”

You smiled as you felt him moving around behind you. “Thanks, baby.”

He touched and held your body in different spots.

Then you felt his skin pressed flush to yours as he got himself to exactly the right position. You were pleased when he didn’t waste any more time, just going straight to burying his dick inside of you. The lust brought so much heat and weakness back into your body.

Shutting your eyes allowed you to see glittering stars as he started to move. He pushed himself into your ass, then lingered before starting a new pump of his hips.

You writhed back into him, delighting in how those sensitivities returned to their earlier height. You could feel how close you were to completely melting into your climax.

It didn’t take much more for you to reach that peak, his perfect tempo giving you the ultimate stimulation. Your noises got louder, moans ripping free from your throat. You felt one of his hands grab for yours and you immediately latched onto it, squeezing as the rest of your body seemed to dissolve.

“Oh my guh-...” You rasped as you were taken over.

“You did so well, doll. Oh, you did so well.” He said, his voice keeping you from getting totally detached from reality.

You were still feeling like you were floating in this dreamy state of satisfaction when he started to move again. Between your sensitive walls, he jerked his cock, becoming more determined. This kept you whimpering and squirming.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” He said as he got into a speedy rhythm, which would keep you from recovering any time soon. “Fuh-uh… uh…”

He powered into you with the last of his energy, then the climax claimed him. He rocked a little, but then the momentum ran out and he was still, leaning into your body.

“Mmn, did that feel as good as it sounded, babe?” You asked.

“Fuck yes, it did.” He said before giving your butt some playful pats. “Giddy up.”

You giggled at this, tingles shooting through your body, even as he began to pull out. He rocked himself back, no longer providing additional pressure on your body. You heard his heavy panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Let me untie you, then I've got some spooky candy we can have.” He said.

You tried to help as he got you turned around, returning you to lying on your back. As he worked at undoing the binds, he checked in with you, asking how you were feeling or if anything hurt. You had no negatives to share.

It felt good to stretch and move your limbs about as you wished. You were quick to turn around, wanting to see him properly again. The hat had fallen off his head at some point and he didn't bother to pick it back up. When your eyes met, he smiled at you and your heart fluttered subtly.

“Are you okay, honey?” He asked.

“Uh-huh, yeah, okay is an understatement.” You said, making him chuckle. When you started to lay down, you could feel that your energy was much lower than before. But your body was still so warm as the lust echoed through it. “You are really good with rope.”

“I’ll show you more another time, yeah? You're fun to tie up.” He said. Instead of lying down with you, he reached onto the bedside table and picked up a bag full of something, ripping it open. You were presented with a small chocolate bar before he tore into his own.

“And how is this spooky?” You asked.

He lifted the bag for you to see its packaging. “There's a spider on the packet here, isn't that so terrifying?”

“Not as scary as Jojo Siwa.” You said and he laughed as he settled back onto the pillow next to where your head was lying. “You would only have to ask and I would wear other, much sluttier costumes for you.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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