#at least bloody long enough to concern everybody and their little dog for our favorite 40 year-old teenager's mental health

[anxiousapplepie]

huh. is there a reason that T!Odile would be in the loops for so long?

No special reason! but you gotta admit if Odile was stuck in a timeloop she'd be very thorough and wouldn't give up perusing something until it's logical (and illogical) end! Even if she knew how to get out, would she do it right away? Wouldn't she procrastinate a little, just to take advantage of the situation even if it drove her to insanity? >:3c

[emmelfish]

Hardimos, what the hell are you doing here, hellhound?

Hardimos: There’s gonna be like five small kids here in a matter of days, combine that with the good foliage here and you got yourself a werewolf pardy.

Urgh – aside from the fact that this werewolf is genuinely following the Brokes around Pleasantview all the way to the Dreamers’ residence (really not that far), Dirk is doing well in Science, and somebody may have left Darren a dream date bouquet.

Welcome to a series I like to call ‘Darren Standing Stiffly At Things’. Exhibition coming soon at the Broke Dreamers Art Gallery... whenever they can afford to buy an art gallery.

Motionless when it’s great news, or...

... terrible news. Wow, so that scuppers the idea of a nice wedding at a community lot then huh. I guess we could take this ragtag group of the few people who ‘like him enough’ on... some kind of outing?

To the Pleasantview Fishing Pond!

Even vampires like Jennail Tricou like to get in some late-night fishing.

Jennail: I do a bleh and scare all the fish out of the pond.

You do indeed, Jen!

Jennail: It’s not like I even need to eat them, it’s just the satis –

Hold it. This isn’t about you Tricou, you’ll get your turn. Onto Daz’s Dream Outing:

Oh John Burb. In earning that silver gardening badge with all your Nature simming you totally neglected fishing, and are legitimately terrible at it.

John: This’ll never do when I’m trying to impress my wife, dog, cat and three kids on our camping trip to Three Lakes.

I never okayed that, John. Taking Jennifer ‘High Heels’ Burb and a feline animal that can’t live without her Anthropologie pillows camping is tantamount to spousal abuse and animal cruelty.

I do love taking sims to community lots just to see who the hell rocks up. As well as Dreamer’s gang of ‘friends’, we ran into none other than my boy Viddy Curious, Everyone’s Favorite Grandma Isabella Monty...

... and motherfreaking John Mole of all people!

John Mole: I’m gathering intel on everybody at this pond.

And doing an excellent job of being inconspicuous you are, John Mole. You just look so very, very normal.

Darren: I’m gonna hang this on my wall and call it art.

Dirk: Could you please make sure you cover it in formaldehyde and vacuum seal it first?

Cowboy Peter Ottomas, you’re everywhere!

Peter: Ah like fishin’! And after witnessing that proposal in TGI Fri – uh in Oresha Family Dining, wanna see how things go with these crazy kids.

Well, for that you’d have to be back at the Dreamer residence where Darren unceremoniously left his fiancée. And on that note...

🎵 Celebrate good times, come on!

Dirk: *retches* Does this nightmare EVER END.

Not when there’s so much dancing to be done! Also, are you retching because of the parental public display of affection? Or is it because Natasha Una has headbutted you in the chest and winded you.

Natasha: IT’S HOW I MAKE FRIENDS.

It’s sweet really. Darren’s little group of friends have made quite the little party for him. But when, pray tell, have you ever seen a group of real-life humans randomly dance around a makeshift art studio without the involvement of drugs or alcohol?

Even Natasha Una is joining the dance-off... awkward as she looks about that.

I knew it! There’s the culprit. Clearly they’ve all been at the Simslice Beer. Enjoy savoring that cold one while you can, Darren, because – 

– your new family have arrived, more specifically, The Twins from Hades (dang, now I can’t call Loki and Circe’s kids that).

Skip Jr: The road is a most adrenaline-inducing place to sing myself a nursery rhyme.

Somebody had the patience to teach you the whole thing without punting you over the Pleasantview bridge, SJ? I’m amazed.

Susie: I’m so excited! And I just can’t hide it! I’m about to lose control –

PLEASE DON’T lose control, with a personality like yours this building will be on fire within seconds.

BRANDI!!!

Brandi: What? It’s just one beer, besides, the yeast is good for the babies.

On what planet – hey, if it was Guinness you might have a point when it comes to iron and nutritional value and whatnot but...

... look what it’s doing to your poor betrothed, he’s drinking it through his fucking eye for pity’s sake.

Dirk’s a braver man than most, actively engaging these nightmare children in play with zero prompting. Hey I wonder if somewhere Skip Broke’s ghost is laughing its translucent ass off because his parting gift to the family was a pair of literal demons in embryo form.

All you Dirk stans out there, I hear your hearts fluttering at this display of adorable. Don’t worry, while I don’t know whether he’ll end up with Lilith or some complete random, he will be blessed with sprogs. We gotta spread those awesome Dreamer genes far and wide.

Fair play Beau, you got the glow! Spiky haired music man is impressed! Max enthusiasm as a child, where on earth does he go from here?

Beau: Rockstardom!

Steady on, let’s just see how things go. You’re gonna grow into a Pleasure sim so it’s either the Slacker career for you or... dates. Millions of dates. Ever feel like the Pleasure aspiration got massively sidelined when it came to LTWs? Why not throw the Gamer or Entertainment career in there or something? ‘Hey you can reach the top of this lazy career or, essentially be a watered down Romance sim. THAT’S WHAT YOU GET for wanting to play on the couch and take bubblebaths.’

Is Skip Jr. laughing at Daz’s newly hairy legs because I done a overlay? You’ll want your own someday, sunshine. Meanwhile I have a huffing pregnant Brandi jumping rope somewhere in the background because during her last pregnancy she ate when she wasn’t hungry (probably because she was carrying insatiable hellspawn) and her fat token has only just kicked in. I like my sims curvy, but girl rolled the want, gotta give girl what she wants!

(I hope to heavens Marla Biggs, Monica Bratford or Jane Stacks never roll that want. I’ll just ignore them if they do.)

The father and son that carpool together, get promoted together! Dirk’s getting that Medicine career LTW on track nice and early, and Darren’s paintings take too bloody long to paint so he went straight into the Art career. Did I ever tell you he rolled a want to ‘Quit Job’ before his first day?! I nearly falcon punched the computer screen.

And the next day, we get Dirkles promoted again because teenage careers are easy as crap to reach the top of. There ya go Dirk, at least now you get another scholarship, moneylover!

Dirk: I’m just happy to be helping people.

Stop being so perfect.

It’s another Veronaville drive-by! Living for Beau’s casual glance while taking out the trash like a boss.

Here you get a little peep at what I’ve done with my Puck. The version I’m opting for is a whiny ‘I JUST WANT TO BE NORMAL’ fairy teen who covers up all traces of his supernatural loveliness, much to his parents’ chagrin. I picture his little sis as the total opposite, rocking up to school with her wings and ears all out giving no shits whatsoever.

What the deuce?! Beau, do you have some kind of sonar for Veronaville residents? It’s like Lucy being Pied Piper to Viper Canyon boys all over again.

Rain concerns Hal. Heck, life concerns Hal. And it’d concern you if you had to live under the same roof as Albany Capp.

What in the world – Hal THIS ISN’T YOUR HOUSE, have some dignity!

Hal: 🎵Clean up clean up Everybody everywhere Clean up clean up Everybody do your share

Whawhawha – wait – DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! I had that all set up for the long-awaited backyard wedding, Puck what are you doing!?

Puck: Takin’ out the trash, V-Ville style!

THE CAKE HADN’T EVEN GONE BAD PUCK, GTF home.

Puck: I don’t want to go home, Hermia and Mercutio will make me lie between them while they do weird stuff to each other again.

I care not. It’s good character-building for the future story I have in mind for you.

Darren looks so stoked about being sick with the flu. Oh no wait! He got promoted again in one of the easiest careers in christendom. Hahaha, oh Ophelia. ‘Things have been pretty hectic for me’ – like two babies, a wedding and another two babies in a matter of days hectic? Or Johnny bringing you the soda with the caffeine instead of the decaf like you asked hectic. I love your old soul lady, but also, go hang with your age appropriate pals. 

Darren taking the not-standing-up advice pretty literally there while surrounded by gaming Veronavillians. Well, at least they’re doing something relatively normal right now.

You see what stupidity Darren’s sickness has brought? Brandi’s now having to make Grandma’s comfort soup in her wedding finery, with Beau providing the soundtrack.

‘Well at least you didn’t rent yours at a store called It’s Not Too Late!’

Darren: So in my Nature hobby explorations, I’ve really been getting into fish lately as well as leafs –

Brandi: Darren, I love you, but if you don’t hurry up and finish that soup so we can get married without you technicolor yawning everywhere and sneezing on the cake I’m gonna go full Hormonal Bridezilla.

Next time, I promise, the knot will be tied, the toddlers will age, and maybe, just maybe, the Broke-Dreamer twins will drop. Ciao for now!

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 22-Turbulence

“Get up!” Michael kicked the end of my bed and the shake was enough to rouse me from my slumber. I’d stayed up late, hoping that Harry would call me. But, just like all the nights this week, my phone had not rang, and the lack of that sound was deafening. His texting had fallen away too; it had been several days since we had had any form of communication at all. His answers to my mundane questions, a line with a dead worm on the end for all their usefulness as bait, were one word often, and his most common sentiment was that he was tired, not that he missed me. When I first made it home, after my two day coma, he was full of rings and tings. My phone went off a lot I thought, so much that my mom actually seemed really irritated by its interruptions of family dinners. “You two have been running around the world for months, the least you could give me is a few meals with your cell phones safely away in your bloody rooms!” She’d griped as she loaded up my plate with grilled meat. I could tell she had went to trouble with this meal. The pineapple salsa she had on the side was my favorite. So I didn’t answer the phone. It pained me, but it was one of the few calls that I missed. Harry, I tried to understand, had to press the shady button more often. With the time zones and their scheduled I got it. Then the calls started to dwindle. And self doubt crept in. As time wore me out, I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me, or just didn’t really want to talk to me. Over the weeks, my urge to press his contact name and hear his voice was overrun with anxiety. When I stopped calling, he did too. Or maybe I had done most of the calling and was just too excited and enamored to notice it. He did text me back, though I was sick to death of waiting until he could send me short responses. I was sick to death of waiting. I just, I missed him. And he didn’t seem to miss me.

I sat in my room with an empty journal on my lap the night before my rude awakening and just wondered if I had imagined his interest. He had all but said it. And he had shown me that he cared for me, wanted me, implied he loved me. A world away though all I could ask was why. He had the world, and its female population, with a hearty dose of the male too, at his feet. What would he want with one girl? What would he want with me? The seesaw we were on was as dizzying as the tilt a whirl, and I had promised myself that if I didn’t hear from him soon, I’d let it go. I’d let him go. I didn’t want to be a burden. I must be, if the weight of calling me was too heavy, how would all of the massive things that I dreamed about feel across his shoulders, no matter how broad. I wanted more than morning cuddles. I wanted more than him calling me baby. I wanted more than shared meals. I wanted the shared life he had mentioned. I wanted more. I wanted. But maybe he didn’t. In the moments where he had a willing girl, increasingly naked and eager in his bed, no wonder he had imagined his interest in me. Or worse feigned it. And he, a very red blooded male, who was very active I knew for a fact before I invaded his bed, of course availed himself of my offer. Though in the waning hours of the night, when the world and my thoughts were darkest I wished he had been a little more selfless and given a care before he took–before he took me. I felt like I’d been taken. Like he owned me, body and soul, and I had been a distraction at best. A warm body at worst. It was wretched. So, in the interest of self preservation and fear, I decided I’d make myself scarce. Stay away for this final little leg of Oceania, and resurrect all those plans I had for my life before I was monogrammed HS. I’d made a plan. I’d written it all down last night. Hair at the hotel, come home and sleep here when possible. Do not watch the concerts, avoid all mentions of Harry Styles. Make a female friend. Learn to date boys who didn’t set me and the world on fire. Actually find a boy to who wanted to date me, instead of have me secretly warm his bed. This list became very useful when I actually implemented it years later, though it went to waste upon its initial creation, because my brother had other ideas for my day and the Aus section of the tour. "Wake up Melly!” This time he was not having my grogginess as he yelled at me. “Jeezus!” I kicked at him as he started pulling the blankets off the bed. “What do you want, ass face?” “I want you to come with me! The boys asked for you and you have been even more of a hermit than usual, so you are going to come with me and act like a human and see people!” He widened his eyes at me. “Now, go shower, you look like shit!” “Stop trying to pull my blankets off! I’m naked under here!” I squealed when I threw myself over the blanket about to be coldly removed from my body. My bare ass on display was better than a full frontal shot I figured. And he was a irritation I wanted gone. Maybe I’d fall back to sleep. “Since when do you sleep naked, prude?” he questioned. Since Harry I thought. It simplified things in the mornings. And I loved those mornings in LA. I’d adopted the habit and learned to love the feeling of crisp sheets over my bare body. The few times a video chat had happened, my naked state had been expedient. Maybe I did it out of hope. I figured I was safe then as he’d stopped pulling my shelter away. But he ripped it off me this time. “I don’t care about your ass, I’ve seen it before, though it as a lot smaller then! You are coming with! If I have to drag you! So make yourself presentable.” Looking back maybe Michael wasn’t as clueless as Harry and I thought. He was dead set on me going with and it was Harry who had asked for me, I guess. I was so wrapped in my thoughts I had missed a few key facts in my stripping though. "Oi,” I called  after him, “where are we going!” Making my way with a towel wrapped around me to the shower. Michael came out of nowhere then, and shoved me into the bathroom. “The 1D boys have made it! I want to see everybody, and they asked for you, lord knows why, so shower, stank!” “Don’t call me that!” I shouted. I’d hated that when I was little. He gave me such a complex about the way I smelled at one point that I developed a rash from too frequent bathing. I lingered so long over my ablutions trying to put off the inevitable and squelch my hope in the face of expected heartbreak, that Michael basically banged in the door until I came out and kept juggling my door knob until I got dressed. “Fuck off, I’m ready now, ass!” I seethed! I had no idea how I was going to handle being in a car with him for half hour at least. “Finally!” He about faced and expected me to trail after him. I did. “No idea why Harry asked for you! Unpleasant snatch!” “Language!”’ my mom said while Michael grabbed the keys to his brand new car. “Don’t talk to your sister like that. "Thank Mummy,” I played my baby sister role up while my brother apologized, to mum, not me, and we headed down the drive. The ride was not as bad as it could have been. My brother immediately put on a playlist and turned it up. So I was free to go over all of my mistakes with Harry and personal flaws in peace.  I even nodded off once we got past the traffic and I was shaken awake, though this time more gently. Another beautiful hotel, made plain by comparison to so many others, greeted us. The lobby was expansive and I felt like we were in a convention center type place by the time we reached the damask wallpapered elevator. My feet were aching even in my trainers, but not as much as my belly. With each floor up, my heart sunk a little deeper. It was surely in the subterranean parking garage by the time we got off the elevator, to Niall riding a segue down the hallway with a beer in each hand. “Nialler!” Michael shouted and Niall stood straight up and hit a button with his elbow without spilling a drink. The momentary distraction from my downward spiral was welcome. I partook in the high fives he doled out at our awe. He’d handed us each a beer. I handed mine back. “Michael and Melly! I love that you all make me say mmmmm!! Come on,“ he lead us away, "everybody but Harry is in here,” he shoved open a door and music floated out. “Let me text him, he made a big stink about me letting him know when the big red dogs arrived!” He drunkenly laughed at his own joke and pulled the hair on Michael’s head I had dyed red recently. I loved how merry he was. It was hard to be angsty around Niall. I figured I’d have to bask in sunshine if Harry shut me in the dark. It might be the only way I was gonna survive this party, and apparently it was a party. There were drinks flowing and I made my way over to where Niall had plopped down and grabbed an acoustic guitar with yet another beer by his side. He hugged my head. A couple people had wandered over to say hello and I was chatting with Lottie about a new strobing technique she had learned when I felt him come in. All the hairs on my arms were stood up and I wasn’t sure if I was in the middle of a romance novel or horror film. I kept myself turned away, I wasn’t eager to find out what tropes I’d be party to. Would I my find myself watching the sunset from a balcony or have my heart ripped out? Would Harry be my romantic lead or my nightmare? When I heard his voice nearby me, saying Michael’s name, I couldn’t help but look up. He was locked in some bro hug type thing with my brother. But he was looking at me. He looked like shit. His eyes were red and bleary and his nose was swollen and his skin was pasty, patchy and pale. I’d never seen him look so unhealthy. “Harry!” I called before I got ahold of myself. Even if I was hurt by his casual disregard, I was so concerned about how miserable he looked I just couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice. No one seemed to notice my solicitude, save Niall who gave me a curious look. And Harry, whose face brightened and tried to smile before he grimaced and had a coughing fit. Once he was done hacking up a lung, he came over to me and I nearly tripped over my own feet to stand when he got close enough. I leaned forward immediately and his hand caught my shoulder before I could wrap my arms around him. My face must have fallen. “Don’t hug me, I’m poorly!” he cautioned. I threw that caution at the wind and wound my arms around his neck and buried my nose into his neck and sniffed until I could smell him under the Mentholatum and tea. “You let Michael hug you,” I chided into his neck. “I don’t care if Michael gets sick.” He clinched me a little tighter and whispered “missed you,” before pulling back mouthing ‘so much’ at me. My belly warmed, and I smiled big at him. He grinned back at me and I was willing to forgive his silence, so soon, forgive him even indifference if he stayed near me. Our staring contest was going a little long and I’m sure my eyes had stars in them. Harry seemed to catch himself, and he averted his gaze and sent a knee in Niall’s direction and they started to talk about plans. “You going to the beach?” Harry scraped out over the gravel in his throat while Niall pretended to be a Jedi for having blocked his knee. “Yeah, sounds like good craic and Ashton insists you can’t come to Australia and not do beach stuff. That true?” He directed at me and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me. He was looking at me, but I was looking at Harry. “What?” I glanced at Niall. “I asked if you were coming to the beach with us?” That didn’t sound quite right, but I could see a knowledge around the edges of his smile that I didn’t like. Niall either suspected us or thought I, like so many others, had developed a bit of a crush on Mr. Styles. Which I guess had a grain of truth in it at least. But, even someone’s uninformed opinion qualifying our relationship in such a simplistic way was insulting to me. I didn’t have a crush and whatever it was that I had was requited. I thought. I hoped. “Um, no yeah?” I answered and the distraction in my voice was so obvious I might as well have been a small child licking an ice cream instead of listening to a calling parent. I shook myself slightly. “Yeah, I’m always up for the beach,” kind of a lie. “When are we going?” I looked at both of them. “Whenever this arseface gets better!” Niall mock punched Harry’s stomach. “You are the weakest wanker, been sick for at least a week and almost didn’t make the plane here.” “Heeeey!” Harry whined. “How sick are you?” I looked at his red rimmed eyes while he picked his chapped lower lip. “I’m better!” He protested and Niall coughed. “Yeah, in that you are upright, doc almost didn’t let him on the plane. Never seen you raise hell like that before Harry! Guess you really wanted to make it to Oz.” Niall looked at both of us and I wanted to be embarrassed, but I was so hopeful that I was why he wanted to make it on that plane and he was so sick he couldn’t get ahold of me, or didn’t want to worry me, or…. I needed to stop making excuses for him, but I just wanted to wrap him up in blankets and make him tea and toast. “I need another beer,” Niall got up and I noticed his glass was half full and quirked a brow, but Harry just smiled and shook his head before taking Niall’s spot, moving like a man of 80 not a boy not yet 20. “Ughhh,” he blew out and rested his head against the back of the couch. I raked my eyes over him, I’d missed looking at him, and I knew my gaze lingered entirely to long, someone would notice, but I wanted to drink him in from a fire hydrant, even when he looked like- “You look like shit!” I said and was surprised by the tinge of anger present in my voice. Good, I still had a backbone somewhere. He rolled his head my way, “Yeah, cheers, feel like it too.” He coughed suddenly. “What’s wrong with you?” I started to move my idle hands from my lap, but caught them and looked around the crowded hotel room. “You should be in bed.” “Have been, for days, I think I slept most of this week. Doctor said flu,” he looked at me regretfully and I wondered if words of apology would cross his downturned mouth too. “Go back to bed, Harry.” I decided to flex my vertebrae and went to stand, but he caught my hand, quickly, and I looked back at him. His mouth was pursed, lips thin and he looked peaky and pitiful, and my spine compressed. “Will you come with me? Meet me?” He inclined his head to the hallway. “Missed you, um, would really like a cuddle.” He forced a dimple and dissolved into another coughing fit. I sat back down and angled my body to hide the hands we still had joined. “Were you too sick to call me?” Slipped out weakly and I wanted to bite my tongue off and spit it out, traitorous slip. He nodded, “I have been, before that, we were just so crazy just, with the movie and like interviews—” “Too busy to even say hi?” I stared at our hands where he was rubbing my knuckles. “Please come back to our room,” my head jumped up, “and let me explain! I feel shit and just could, look,” he coughed again, “please, cuddle me.” God, I hated that I loved him right then. But, I nodded and raised my eyebrows. His lips quirked gratefully, maybe in triumph and I wanted to leave him alone in that hallway, but I knew I wouldn’t. “Five minutes?” I hated how little it took for me to give in, just the happy look on his poor little face turned me inside out. I was a jellyfish, no bones to speak of at all. I nodded and bit my lip and he got up, looking at me for a long moment before he left me alone on the couch, trusting that I would follow. The last time I had followed him out of a hotel room congregation had been with light feet and a hopeful heart. This time, I could feel a seed of resentment sprouting in my heart, but I went, because i was only aware the thing was beating when he helped me remember it was present in my chest. After some furtive glances and a surety that no one was watching, I made it to the door, and down the corridor, this one with more of the textured wall paper from the lobby. The walls were red and black and lush. As overwrought and baroque as my little feelings. Big feelings, really. All of my feeling surrounding Harry were huge-tidal, and weighty, apparently even my disappointment. This time, he wasn’t hiding out in a room to pull me into his arms and a celebratory kiss. Harry was waiting in the hallway, proverbial hat in his hands. He’d even clasped them together in front of him, like he was waiting for the rap of my ruler over his knuckles. If that had made me feel better, I might have done it, if it were on the table. He would have let me. I could tell he felt guilty just looking at his snotty face. But I didn’t want him hurting, which he clearly was with his sickness, and I had no desire to do the hurting. “Baby–” he started and I held up my hand. “Baby? Really?” I scoffed a little, some sass was left in me yet. He narrowed his eyes a moment, “I’m not allowed to call you baby when you are mad at me? I’m also not allowed to say your name I think, when I’ve hurt you, if I remember correctly. So what am I supposed to call you?” People in New Zealand could hear my eye roll. "don’t be petulant, Harry. Let’s go back to your room, unless you want to do this in the hallway?” “Do what? Are you breaking up with me?” He extended his hand and flashed them out, like magician showing he didn’t have a magical object. “Breaking up what? We aren’t together, even!” My voice went up an octave on that one. He drew his neck back and squinted at me, “We’re not? You sleep with boys you aren’t with, Mel?” Oh I was gonna kill him. “Not your business if I do.” His jaw expanded at that and he started walking and all the air went out of me faster than an unplugged bounce house. He caught my hand on his way and pulled me, quickly swiping his key across the sensor until it said go and he pushed in with me trailing behind him. He turned then, his face a little red, not from rough tissue. “We!” He motioned between us. “Are together, ok?” It was somewhere between a question and a command and my head spun like a top. “Huh?” I stared at him slack jawed. “Melody,” his voice softened considerably, but he still has a tinge of red in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but like, I was overwhelmed, and tired, and then sick. I got on that plane, um, even though the doctor said my eardrum may burst, because I couldn’t go another day without seeing your face.”He cupped my jaw then and pressed his forehead to me. “We, baby,” he said in capitals letters, “are together. I only sleep with you and you only sleep with me! Ok?” He looked at me like he was convincing a jury against falsified evidence. “Ok, Melody can we be ok?” All the fight was going out of him. "Ok,” I agreed and he deflated against me. “But, H,” he sighed. “People who are together call

each other.”

“Ok, I’ll be better Melly, I’ll get better, ok?” he sighed and wrapped his arms around my waist so I was supporting more of his weight. “Can I please have my cuddles now?” He said against my lips but still not kissing me hello.

“No!” I shook my head, effectively rubbing our lips together. “No?” He pulled back to look at me. “Gotta pay the toll.” I tapped my lips. “Baby, I’m sick!” He half heartedly protested, pressing lips to mine and walking backwards to the bedroom. So was I, I thought, lovesick.

All The Love as always to my darling beta @nocontrolforlouis and to my readers and responders!!

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