#everyone go read lou's fic! now!

[fragilecapric0rnn]

i made this playlist for my friend @cheatghost's BEAUTIFULLY wonderful fic show me the place where he inserted the blade. i put a lot of thought into the playlist and was talked into doing an analysis. I will be diving into each part of the fic by going over how and why the songs i chose for each section relate to the themes and events that take place. each part will have it's own post.

here is part I. Before

I. Before

One of my favorite aspects of this story is how Lou started it with “Before”, for multiple reasons! The presence of a “before” means that there is this sense of looming danger, an uneasiness about all the events in this section. The anticipation as the reader waits for the life-changing event, which in this case is Eddie being taken into a very confidential WITSEC situation that cuts him off from everyone and everything in his life.

I. The Place Where He Inserted The Blade by Black Country, New Road

The playlist starts with the titular song, the song that is in the epigraphs of each chapter, and the song that has its roots growing in, around, and throughout this entire work. It was only right that the playlist be introduced by this song.

You’re scared of a world where you’re needed

So you never made nice with the locals

But you tied me up slow with your vine stuff

It takes a few years, but they break bones

It takes a few months, but our bones heal

We’re stronger, and we tell all our school friends

And they sign our cast in the playground

Darling, the rest of my body, it’s yours, then

This is the epigraph from the first chapter, which encapsulates the feelings in Before very well. The uneasiness.

II. Microwave Dinner by Petey 

This song, in general, just feels like a very Steddie song to me (if you see it on other playlists of mine - no you didn't).

Yeah, I guess I'm just a bit of a goofball

But we don't joke around like we used to

It's hard to have a laugh when you feel the truth

This just feels very much like those first few months. It's Steve figuring out how to build a relationship with Eddie after everything that has happened and everything that keeps happening in the aftermath.

But your eyes are the truth, and our hearts are congruent

And in the very, very moment I think that I love you

Yeah, I love you

And I think that I need ya

The word choice in this part is what sticks with me. That think. I THINK that I love and need you. It's Steve figuring all of this out while harboring these festering feelings that are stronger than friendship. It's him being awkward as he gifts Eddie the Garfield mug, and the moment in Family Video when Steve feels compelled to go after him and doesn't. He's figuring it out.

III. Pink in the Night by Mitski 

It's like a summer shower

With every drop of rain singing

"I love you, I love you, I love you -

The way that this song builds up from this slow tempo, slow serenade and into this intense and loud belting song feels evocative of Steve and Eddie's relationship. How the summer months it is this slow build up of stolen moments, words almost said dangling in the air, Steve being - as Eddie says it - "so damn agreeable" - and every move made and word said being filled with so much more emotion than either of them realize, but is so clear to the reader. It's the moment in the van when Eddie traces Steve's moles and points out Fawn. It's the sign! It's the kiss that finally happens after months of pining and yearning and build up. It's the moment!

I could stare at your back all day

This one line. It is so many moments in this section, echoing what was said above about that first set of lyrics.

This line: "Eddie presses kisses into Steve’s back, “Yeah.” He moves his fingers again, connecting the dots, tracing a particular shape, 'I see Fawn here.'"

When I hear this line, I see this scene SO clearly.

IV. Intertwined by Dodie

There are a few songs that I would like to copy and paste the entirety of its lyrics to this post and just wave my hand in front of it and say, "ya know?" This is one of those songs!  

Safe from the world

Though the world will try

This song, these lyrics in particular, feel very representative of the feelings in January/February/March. It's tender, it's soft spoken lyrics with even more subtle guitar. Just, soft.

I've pinned each and every hope on you

I hope you don't bleed with me

I'm afraid of the things in my brain

But we can stay here

And laugh away the fear

The scene in March where Eddie talks Steve down from a nightmare-induced anxiety attack, the softness of it.

This line: "So Eddie shows up for him. For Steve. He tightens his hold over him and brings Steve closer, tucks his head under his own chin, and he presses a kiss into his crown of golden hair."

The closeness between the two. The unspoken you are safe, you are with me and you are safe, is what came to mind with this song, especially the lyrics highlighted above.

V. First Love/Late Spring by Mitski 

Another instance of me wanting to point at the whole song and go "THIS IS THE VIBE".

And I don't wanna go home yet Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

I did pick this song more so for the vibe, as we are reaching that moment in April. The big moment, the turning point in not only the story but in Steve's life. It is a song about being terrified by the intensity of the love being felt. As a reader, you should feel terrified the more Steve falls in love with Eddie, because the reader knows that this is not going to end well. Similar to the previous Mitski song I chose, it has that anticipatory vibe, that looming threat that of this is not going to end well.

VI. Hang On Me (piano version) by St. Vincent 

I can't help but think of this scene in relation to this song: "Something is screaming at him to drive Eddie away, far away, and never look back. It’s making his bones ache, his throat is dry, and he wants to turn and push Eddie back in the car, but he can’t."

I cannot stop the aeroplane from crashin' And we circle down from the sky

Steve knows, deep down, he knows what is about to happen. He knows that nothing good can come from this second fire. He knows but he also knows he cannot stop it.

You and me We're not meant for this world

"In red marker, on a piece of lined paper ripped out from a notebook, Eddie’s written Don’t Forget Me." And Steve's life is forever changed. Everything that happens to him from this moment on will forever be tainted with feeling of after. After Eddie was taken. After his heart was stolen from him. After.

[sturn1olo-ffics]

OK SOO!! could you do a fic where the reader and matt are like best friends and you guys going on trip to a cabin that your friend knew and there was not enough seats so you had to sit on his lap and then the rest of what happens is up to you❕

- TIGHT FIT -

- Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)

- Warnings: 18+⚠️SMUT⚠️ (I know I said I would never write smut but….. the opportunity is right there okay), making out, friends to lovers, use of y/n, profanity, I truly hope that’s it; NOT PROOFREAD

- About: request above 🤭🤭

- Pre-A/N: if you are a minor I do not condone you reading this but do with it what you will 🤷🏻‍♀️

—————————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV:

Today was the day! Madi had asked Nate, Nick, Matt, Chris, and I if we would like to go on a trip to a cabin in Vermont with her that was planned by Laura.

We all met at the triplets’ house in Boston because it was easier to drive from there to the cabin, rather than flying and being without a car because we didn’t want to rent one.

We planned to use Nate’s mom’s car. It sat 6 people and had enough room for our bags in the trunk.

We all woke up to Mary Lou making pancakes for us all like the absolute icon she is.

“Hey guys, it’s 6:30am. If we all get ready really quick and throw our bags in the car before we leave, then we can eat and be out of here by 8:00. Which, leaves us with enough time for lunch and to check in at 1pm.” Nick stated.

The place we were going to was only about a 4 hour drive from the house, so it wasn’t too long.

“Oh and y/n remember you gotta sit in Matt’s lap-” he added on.

“What?” I laughed at what I thought was a joke.

“Nate’s mom couldn’t let us use her car so now we have to use ours? Which is five seats? And you and Matt are the closest? Don’t you remember Madi telling you this?” he laughed along with me.

No. I didn’t remember. Because Madi did not tell me that I would have to sit on my best friend’s lap the whole car ride.

“Well I’m sure there will be room in the trunk.” I shrugged it off like it was nothing. Matt wasn’t even in the room to protest with me.

8:00am

“Alright uhhh seems like there is no room back here so Matt’s lap is the only option… unless we strap you to the stop of the car like a Christmas tree-” Nick laughed.

“My lap? Ah whatever it’s only a 4 hour drive.” Matt glanced over at me.

We all piled into the car, Nate driving, Chris in the passenger seat, Matt behind Nate, Madi in the middle, and Nick behind Chris.

Oh and, don’t forget. Me in my best friend’s lap.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird” I thought to myself.

Everything was fine and going smoothly until about 3 hour in.

11:00am

My legs and hips started to feel cramped, so I felt like it was a good idea to shift as much as I could.

Mistake.

Upon my shifting, Matt grabbed onto my waist, signaling me to stop.

I wasn’t sure why until- oh. That’s why.

He was growing hard underneath me.

I tried to ignore it as best I could but I couldn’t.

I was sitting on my best friends lap with his cock impaling me.

He moved to whisper in my ear.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do, I can’t make it go away.” the words rushed out of his mouth.

All I did was giggle in response as the breath against my neck made me grow even wetter than I already was.

I decided to tease him.

While the rest of the car slept, except Nate of course, I slowly rocked my hips back and forth on Matt’s growing cock.

“Y/n what are you doing? Stop!” he whispered in my ear frantically.

Again, I only giggled in response.

I kept going faster and faster, making myself feel good as well.

He squeezed my hips and told me to stop or it would end badly. But I didn’t want to.

Then, Nick woke up.

Without noticing what I was doing, he muttered out, “Can we stop at McDonald’s?”

“Sure.” everyone agreed as the sound woke Madi and Chris up.

“Yes, please.” Matt panted out.

“Are you getting hot over there Matty boy?” Chris laughed, not knowing why Matt seemed out of breath.

We pulled into the parking lot of the McDonald’s and we all hopped out.

Matt pulled me aside.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he raised his voice.

I just shrugged and giggled in response.

“Do you know how hard you already make me by just looking at you? Cut the teasing out or else.” he scolded, then walked off.

I stood there by the car, but just kept wondering what the “else” would be.

We walked inside and talked like normal, all eating and stretching our legs out. A few of us used the bathroom, and then we hopped back in the car.

12:30pm

“30 minutes to the cabin” I thought.

Perfect, that leaves me with 15 minutes of sleeping, and 15 more minutes of teasing Matt.

15 minutes pass by.

“Y/n! You were snoring HAHAHAHAH” Chris pointed out.

“I didn’t mean to, my bad.” I laughed along.

I reached forward, grabbing the charger by Chris to plug my phone in.

I moved my hips forward, then back.

Then adjusted myself about 3 times.

“Stop it.” Matt aggressively whispered in my ear.

“Oops, didn’t mean to.” I giggled.

We pulled up to the cabin, checked in, and brought our stuff inside.

“Chris and Nate that’s your room…Madi this is our room…and Matt and y/n that’s your room!” Nick happily cheered.

“Me and y/n sharing a room?” Matt scoffed.

“Uh… you guys always do? Y’all are best friends, remember?” Nick said, obviously confused.

Matt and I sat out stuff down as Nick announced that they were all going to the nearby grocery store to pick up essentials.

“We’ll stay here and check this place out.” Matt yelled back.

“We?” I looked at him. “What if I wanted to go-”

“You’re staying right here ma’am.” he interrupted me. “You think you were slick with that little stunt you pulled in the car?” he asked, getting closer and closer to me.

He pushed me onto the bed.

“I’m gonna fuck that tease right out of you baby.” he smirked down at me, as he was leaning over top.

Immediately, he pressed our lips together and they automatically found a perfect sync.

He tugged at the bottom of my tank top, asking for permission, then pulled back and searched my eyes for any hesitation.

Even though he was mad, he still cared.

He ripped my tank top off, as well as his shirt, colliding our lips again.

He trailed sloppy, wet kisses down my neck and onto my chest while slipped my shorts off.

“You’re already soaked for me, huh?” he gently dragged his fingers over my wet panties.

“Matt-” I moaned out, quietly.

“Say my name louder baby it’s all yours.” He continued trailing hickies down my abdomen.

He pulled his shorts and boxers down, revealing how big he was.

My eyes widened.

“What? Think you can’t take it?” he laughed.

“What? No, no I can..” I stumbled over my words.

He dropped to his knees and pulled down my panties, leaving me completely exposed.

As he trailed kisses and softly drug his fingers along my inner thighs, soft moans left my now swollen lips.

He grazed his lips across my dripping wet pussy, teasing me.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

He continued this until I grabbed his hair pushing his face down begging him saying, “Please, Matt, please touch me.”

Finally, he took two fingers and entered them in, hooking them up to hit all the right spots. He then drew circles around my clit with his tongue.

My moans became louder as I was already about to cum.

“Matt-”

“You aren’t allowed to cum yet.” he stood up.

Taking is hardened cock, he placed in at my entrance and slowly pushed in.

As much as he wanted to, he didn’t wanna hurt me.

He waited a second for me to adjust to he size, then slammed into me multiple times. Leaving cries and moans of his name escaping my mouth.

He flipped me over in one swift motion, pulling me on all fours, then pushing my face into the pillow in front of me.

“Fuck Matt you’re so good baby” I murmured out.

Pressing his hand to my back, making me arch even more, he grabbed my hips with his hands and gripped hard.

“Matt- Matt I’m gonna-”

“Come on baby let loose sweet girl.” he was still gentle as ever.

Before I knew it, I was climaxing. Legs shaking and hands gripping sheets while Matt helped me ride out my high.

He then pulled out and painted my back white, moaning my name, before I dropped to the bed all fucked out.

He pulled his boxers on and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean me up.

Then he helped me grab a new pair of underwear and helped me put my clothes on before putting on clothes himself.

“Matt-” I started.

“I told you to stop teasing me in the car y/n.” he smirked.

“Soooo…are we never gonna speak about this or…?” I questioned him.

“You’re my girl.” he helped me lay down.

“What?” I giggled.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you y/n?” I grabbed my chin gently.

“I mean I kinda by the fact that you eye-fuck me every time I dress up, or down, or casual, or every time I see you.” I laughed.

“Oh please baby.” he smiled before pulling me in for one more sweet kiss before the rest of them got back.

Oh what a week this is about to be.

—————————————————————————————

A/N: I know I said I would never write smut but I just had to. So, sorry if you didn’t like it. The opportunity was right there okay 😮‍💨😮‍💨 Anyway, since it was my first time writing something like that it’s probably not my best, so I’m sorry for that as well. Lmk if y’all want more of this content or what :) requests are always open! 🤍🤍 Maya

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.

pairing. jonathan breech x reader

summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?

warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)

a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO

i. 

There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech. 

The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?

He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air. 

You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall. 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips. 

“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”

You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping. 

He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door. 

The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes.  His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming. 

Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught. 

At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?

Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene. 

But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech. 

That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming. 

“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”

Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest. 

You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”

When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall. 

“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death. 

The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.

“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.

You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see? 

“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.

“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle. 

The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.

“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.

“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.

“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”

You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.

“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”

You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly. 

It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother. 

He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him. 

At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.

Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound. 

“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk. 

Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise. 

“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”

You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.

“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all. 

You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?” 

He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”

“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling. 

“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out. 

Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about. 

The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.

ii.

Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head. 

You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface. 

You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.

You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water. 

Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in. 

But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”

 “Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.

“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone. 

You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error. 

You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided. 

Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once. 

“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch. 

He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.  

Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.

But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory. 

“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake. 

You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten. 

Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter. 

But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone. 

You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know. 

So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don’t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to. 

He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.

This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”

His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone. 

“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”

Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it. 

It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death. 

“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.

“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too. 

“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was. 

Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed. 

Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go. 

It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer. 

You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.

So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know. 

When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.

You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go. 

Well, you were too stubborn to let him go. 

It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.

Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“

But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone. 

In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two. 

Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?

If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?

It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.  

“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”

He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned. 

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice. 

Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”

“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”

“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’” 

At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.

“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.

“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”

“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”

The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.

“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”

“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”

“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.

“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”

“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”

“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“

It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you? 

(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)

“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”

“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”

Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”

“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right. 

“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”

He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”

“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been. 

Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare. 

“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”

You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you. 

Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?

You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms. 

Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”

“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater. 

That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.

You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”

You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”

“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.

“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea. 

“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off. 

When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature. 

He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once. 

That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”

Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit. 

You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick. 

“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck. 

“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.

“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples. 

Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him. 

You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker. 

However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection. 

Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin. 

You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down. 

“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”

You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear. 

The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the  arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip. 

Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. 

“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.

With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch. 

After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy. 

He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”

“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides. 

Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed. 

“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.  

Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow… 

At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?

“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”

Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure. 

“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”

He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch. 

“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”

“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd. 

You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”

Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider. 

At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt. 

“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold  sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin. 

“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans. 

Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever. 

You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely. 

“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other. 

“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second. 

You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out. 

Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him. 

Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness. 

Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek. 

There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world. 

When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.

“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole. 

You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.

“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”

You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly. 

At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.

You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again. 

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of August. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love. Happy reading!

1) Louis Confess | Explicit | 1,667 words

Louis always liked Harry, when he sees himself desperate for him, he decides to tell everything.

2) No Turning Back Now | Not Rated | 2,256 words

“Let’s go to New York City, Lou! A fun getaway with lots to do.” Louis nearly choked on his water and shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.” Niall frowned. “But we talk about it all the time. You don’t want to go see it in person?” Louis pointed a finger at his friend and corrected him. “You talk about it all the time. I’m pretty sure I just smile and nod at what you’re saying until I fall asleep.”

3) The Mundane Reminded Me Of You | Explicit | 3,185 words

Things between Harry and Louis have been tense since Louis confessed having feelings for Harry. Harry has been telling him that he’s not interested, but keeps giving Louis mixed signals. When Louis tries to understand what those mixed signals are, Harry just keeps acting avoidant and refuses to answer Louis’ questions. Niall, who is close with both of them, decided to get involved to try to help, but just ended up making things worse. Now, Louis has cut them off both. Niall keeps trying to reach out to Louis, but Louis doesn’t want to hear anything about it. With One Direction being on their Midnight Memories tour, everyone has been feeling that tension and no one knows what to do about it. One day, Harry has had enough and decides to confront Louis about how he’s been treating Niall.

4) Give Me That Adrenaline| Explicit | 4,636 words

It's the 80s, Louis works in a sex shop and it's one of those boring days... until, yes... until Harry enters the shop in all his glory...

5) Symphony | Teen & Up | 4,981 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

In the peaceful countryside, Harry Styles is a hardworking farmer who’s all about keeping things running smoothly on his farm. But when a routine check on his crops leads to a nasty fall from his horse, Harry finds himself seriously injured. Determined not to worry his pregnant omega, Louis, he stubbornly drives himself to the hospital, knowing full well that Louis would be frantic if he found out. Meanwhile, Louis gets a call that sends him into a panic—Harry’s in the hospital. Rushing to his side, Louis is a mix of anger and worry, not sure whether to scold Harry or hug him. As they reunite, the two navigate their emotions, and despite the scare, their bond only deepens, proving that together, they can handle anything life throws at them.

6) Desire | Explicit | 6,123 words

Louis Tomlinson is a teacher at a secondary school in London. He loves his job and the students he teaches. He’s been teaching Maths at the school for 3 years now. Before this school, he taught at a school with younger kids In his hometown of Doncaster for a year. Louis left his mum, step dad, and younger stepbrother, Harry, behind in Doncaster. Today Louis received a call from his mum that she and his step dad are having struggles in their marriage and need him to take Harry in for a while because she cant deal with a teenage boy right now. This is not news to him. Since their parents married, they have had a very rocky relationship. Louis and Harry have always been a kind of close that few could understand even them sometimes. They were always tactile and loving towards one another in and out of the public eye. The last ten months have been nothing more than daily text and calls between the boys. Louis being older than Harry and gay always knew it was much more than just a brotherly bond or a bond over a troubled and tumultuous home life. Part of leaving home was Louis’ way of putting a healthy distance between them so Harry could find a nice girl and have the chance at a normal life.

7) The Sacrifices of Righteousness | Explicit | 6,989 words

Priest Harry eats Louis out and then fucks him on the altar in the Sanctuary of the Church

8) Home Is Nest to You | Teen & Up | 7,340words

Being an omega, Louis was well accustomed to nesting. He had lost count of the number of times he'd nested throughout his life. But, there were five times in particular that he'd never forget.

9) I Want Nothing But You Beside Me | Explicit | 10,168 words

Louis is an omega cam boy, desperate to be fucked by a real alpha. When he ends up in heat, he goes live and begs his favourite viewer to come and knot him.

10) Consumed By All These Yesterdays | Explicit | 10,159 words

“I love you too, by the way,” Louis said in his arms. “And I will love you next summer, and the summer after that, and for every summer we have together for the rest of our lives.” “And I will love you more.” Louis would leave Harry’s summer home two days later, and it would become the fifth consecutive year that they would drift apart through fall and winter, but Harry wasn’t afraid. They always had the summer time and without a doubt it would inevitably bring them back together.

11) Bad Logic | Explicit | 14,108 words

Louis tried to tell Harry he was interested in him years ago. When a misunderstanding occurs, leading to a 5 year long feud, can they finally figure each other out?

12) Given Half A Chance | Explicit | 15,226 words

Louis commits suicide and Harry does everything to get him back.

13) Miracles At Sunsets | Teen & Up | 16,351 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

Harry and Louis are best friends bound by years of shared memories, but their relationship is complicated by a tangle of unspoken emotions. Harry, an Alpha, is deeply in love with Louis, an Omega, but fears revealing his true feelings might shatter the friendship they’ve built. When Harry decides it’s time to settle down and start a new chapter in his life, he turns to Louis, an interior designer, for help in finding the perfect home. What begins as a light-hearted search for a house soon becomes a journey of self-discovery and emotional upheaval. As they explore potential homes, their bond is tested by the growing tension between what is said and what remains hidden. Can Harry find the courage to reveal his heart, or will their unspoken desires tear them apart?

14) Home Is Wherever I'm With You | Explicit | 20,742 words

Louis' life is changed drastically when he is dragged off to the bathroom by his biggest crush.....his college professor.

15) Porcupine | Explicit | 82,250 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users. 

Louis, a broke omega librarian, finds his quiet life in Vienna turned upside down when he meets a charming four-year-old boy named Venus, who insists that Louis is his "Mama." When Venus's father, Harry—a powerful and dangerous mafia leader—offers Louis a lucrative job as the boy's full-time nanny, Louis steps into a world where love and danger are deeply intertwined. As Louis grows closer to Harry and Venus, he discovers the perilous secrets of Harry's underworld life. Their unexpected connection sparks a passionate romance, but with Harry's enemies closing in, Louis must navigate a treacherous path where his heart and life are at risk. This is a thrilling tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of two souls drawn together against all odds.

16) Brat Camp | Explicit | 93,099 words

Bratty sub Louis Tomlinson gets sent to ‘Brat Camp’. Dom Harry Styles is the Counsellor assigned to him, tasked with correcting his attitude and behaviour.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[cxrdycxps]

Caught In A Trap • Joel Miller

☢️ sexual assault (past but there’s flashbacks and discussions) • victim shaming • description of injuries • blood • panic attacks • swearing • ☢️

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

This is part 2 of Cat and Mouse. You should really read that first unless you enjoy not understanding the narrative. Unfortunately this fic has a mind of its own and is gonna have a final third part. I know, I know. I hate myself too. It should be out by tomorrow night, yes I said that last time. No, I’m not lying this time. Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged and commented so far. I love you all.

“It’s stupid. Isn’t it?” You asked Lou, pacing her living room. She had listened to you explain the whole date to her and now she was weighing up her opinion of what happened and you couldn’t take the silence. “I’m stupid. He’s fucked half the town. Why am I surprised he played me?”

“Like you played him?” Lou asked and you stopped your pacing to stare at her. She didn’t hide from your stare like most people tended to, meeting you dead on. You clenched your jaw before taking a seat and nodding. “Look, I love you. When two people have been through what we’ve been through, there are repercussions. We were items of use. We weren’t people. We didn’t get to have names or belongings or even autonomy. That way of living is going to leave a scar.”

“I don’t want them to have me any more. I don’t want to hide and just do as I’m told. I don’t want to have sex with a man just because he wanted it.” You told her with a sniffle, wiping your face. “But they all do it. They all do something and then they make it my fault, like I’m the crazy bitch.”

“Hear me out?” Lou asked and you nodded. “You keep picking men that make you crazy. Like Nolan right? He used you for sex. He wasn’t open about it but once you figured it out, you let it continue to happen. Abdul, had a reputation for having more than one woman on the go. Aidan was a misogynist from the word go. Luca wanted a housewife, not a partner. Every man you’ve tried to date has been really fucking shit.”

“They have to be. They need to be awful. There aren’t any good men.” Lou held her hand out to you and you took it, letting her draw you into a hug. You hadn’t realized that it was you that was sobbing. “There was so many and none of them tried to help. If there was good men they would’ve helped.”

“Those men weren’t banded together because they were good. They banded together because they were like minded individuals.” Lou told you, rocking you both from side to side. “You knew Joel Miller was a slut. You’ve heard more stories about him having sex than there are single, age appropriate women in the compound.”

“He was nice. He was nice and I slept with him and we, he made me laugh. No one ever bothered to do that. He offered to go home. He would’ve left if I didn’t want it.” You whispered and Lou shushed you again. “For the first time since Nolan I had sex on the first date. I wanted it this time.”

“While I’m sure Joel Miller is a great guy, that’s the bare minimum. I know you’ve never received it but respecting your right to withdraw consent is basic human decency.” Lou told you and you wondered what it meant that having your basic human rights respected felt like winning the jackpot.

“He didn’t mean it though. He got what he wanted by filling my head with false promises. Then he sent his kid, who wasn’t even suppose to know about us, to bail him out. He had expected me to give in.” You cried against Lou’s neck and she shushed you gently. “It felt good. For the first time. When I told him I had an ache the next morning he didn’t insist I just push past it. He was gentle with me.”

“Those are some more of those basic human rights. Absolutely no one should be trying to push you to agree to sex that will hurt.” Lou sighed and you blinked at her.

“It’s bad that I don’t know that, right?” You asked and she only shook her head, kissing your forehead.

“You were in that room for a long time. There was so much you missed, so much to learn. I’ll help you.”

///

Joel stayed to the rear of the group out on patrol. He was fixing to give Tommy a peace of his mind but heading out to kill a bunch of runners wasn’t the time. Tommy and Joel never argued on a patrol because they needed to have each other’s back.

So Joel didn’t give in to the temptation, keeping his distance from his brother who clearly didn’t see anything wrong in his actions. That just made Joel even more mad.

Ellie was on his shit list too because she knew better than to listen to Tommy. She knew better than to come looking for him on a night he said he wasn’t available to her. Boundaries were important between him and Ellie and he was pissed that she ignored him.

“I know that face.” Joel inhaled deeply because right now Nolan was the last guy he needed to see. He had been pissed enough to find him on the patrol but so far he had stayed well away. “Black Widow sunk her fangs into you, huh?”

“Do I look like I’m in the mood?” Joel asked, barely tilting his head in Nolan’s direction. Tommy looked back at Joel when he heard him speak and winced but turned and kept his face forward.

That pissed Joel off even more. Tommy had probably had something to do with Nolan being on the patrol. Joel clenched his jaw.

“She ended things?” Nolan asked and Joel stared resolutely ahead. “You said something bad, didn’t you? It was a joke or a throw away comment but little miss took it to heart.”

“Nolan, fuck off.” Joel warned, eyes facing forward. He couldn’t help but be relieved when Abdul heard the tension in his voice and dropped back. Abdul was a good guy and it might deter Nolan.

“Always ends it once she gets what she wants. Bet every conversation left you wrong footed. Had to feel like you’d make it up to her?” Joel inhaled deeply and stared at Tommy. He was willing to bet Ellie’s life there was no pack of runners.

“You can go and fuck yourself too.” Joel warned. He took measured deep breaths and remembered that he was liable to get in trouble if he hurt any of them unprompted. It wasn’t the same lawless land in Jackson. He couldn’t just punch people that pissed him off.

“Man, we’re trying to help you here. We’ve all been through it. This is what she does as some sick fucking revenge.” Abdul told Joel and he swallowed roughly. “She had some bad times outside the wall, got a little roughed up once or twice before Jackson.”

“When she got here she decided it was our fault. Let’s it look like our decision, you know? To pursue her. Happened to be in our line of view at the bar, we chose to talk to her. We didn’t choose anything.” Nolan piped up and Joel furrowed his brow. “Let’s you feel like you’re playing her then leaves you high and dry. Like you need to go looking for her.”

“She’ll bump into you a couple of times. Each time she’ll cause an argument or make you out to be an asshole. The next time she sees you she’s already forgotten about it.” Abdul spoke again and Joel felt his chest tighten. “Tells you all about her three date rule.”

“She doesn’t do one night stands.” Nolan scoffed and Joel looked over at him sharply. “She never does it, makes her feel dirty. Until she’s crawling into your lap like a damn bitch in heat.”

“That’s enough now.” Joel warned Nolan when his tone changed from conversational to direct anger.

“Safe, you made her feel safe.” Abdul finished and Joel realized that without a shadow of a doubt, he’s been played.

///

“Joel isn’t a dick.” You jumped, the rocking chair jolting with your movements. You raised your sunglasses off your eyes and found Ellie Williams standing at the top of your porch step. Unlike the times you had pretended with Joel, you genuinely hadn’t heard her coming and it sort of unnerved you. “It seems like he is but he ain’t.”

“Ellie, I’m sure he ain’t.” You sighed and set your sunglasses back down over your eyes and tilted your head back to continue absorbing the last of the Summer sun. “Don’t you worry about what I think about your daddy.”

“Okay firstly, that’s weird. Don’t say that. Joel isn’t my dad.” You lifted your head up again to look at her. “He and I went through a lot together but I only met him like two years ago.”

“Okay. My point still stands. I’m sure he’s a great guy. Don’t worry about me. I was just in a bad mood the other day, ‘s all.” You assured her. You didn’t want her to think bad of Joel, father or not.

“Cause I made you think that. I shoulda known better than listen to Tommy. Joel was having an off-duty night. We’ve got boundaries. Boundaries are important.” You sighed and sat forward in your chair. You knew that your relaxing had come to an end.

“Honey, I was mad at him before you knocked on that door. People like me, well, we got issues. I’m tryna work on them but I don’t always do that good.” You told her and she nodded, listening earnestly. “I had some rough things happen and now I play games with people. I can’t help it. I’m trying to find someone that can put up with me, pass my tests.”

“Joel can put up with anyone. He crossed the country with only me for company. I’m annoying as fuck.” Ellie told you with a grin and you huffed a laugh. “You should give him another chance.”

“I don’t think it’s in the card but you’re real sweet for tryin’ to fix things between us. It isn’t his fault really. I shoulda known better.” You explained and she frowned, crossing her arms.

“Is this cause Tommy says you dump men to punish them?” You clenched your jaw and wondered if you were going to have to have a word with Tommy. Tell him to mind his own business before you minded it for him. “I was taken by a man who wanted to hurt me before. I killed him.”

“Not all of us are that fortunate, kid. But if I ever see him again I’ll have a go. See if it fixes me.” You assured her. You ignored her comment about Tommy and leaned back in your seat again.

“I think that you’re making a mistake. Punishing Joel. He’s the only person I know who doesn’t deserve punishment.” Ellie spoke quietly.

“Me keeping my distance is the opposite of a punishment. I can assure you that.”

///

The key got caught in the lock. The hinges of the door squeaked. Every floorboard creaked and groaned. You were able to map the steps taken right up to the edge of the bed. The rattle of a belt buckle. Your arms ached from being tied above your head. “You just been waiting for me, huh?”

You gasped, springing up in the bed with a hand over your racing heart. The room was black with darkness and you fumbled for your lamp, knocking it over in your haste. You ignored the shatter of glass in an effort to get to the main light switch.

You fell against the wall, your panic urging you on. When your fingers closed around the switch and the light came on you could finally breathe.

You were in Jackson. You weren’t there anymore. You were safe and you were home. When your breathing was under control you looked down, unsurprised to find footprints of blood. You had walked on the broken glass.

You let yourself slump against the wall, slipping down to sit and take the weight off your damaged foot. There was no pain to feel yet, your nervous system still on high alert. You sighed heavily, head tilted back. As the adrenaline wore off and the pain kicked in there was no point in fighting the tears.

There you sat against the wall, sniffling and blinking while attempting to get all the glass out of your foot. Swiping at your eyes angrily when you couldn’t see and breathing deep through the sobs trying to fight out of you.

It was exhausting, feeling this way. There were tricks you had learned to make it better. When you had arrived to Jackson every night was spent like this, sobbing in your room cause you were scared of the dark.

Then you had met Nolan. And sure he was a little forceful in his come on but you found the nights easier with him by your side. You had felt safe from the nightmares that plagued your mind. Putting up with sex you didn’t really want was a small price to pay. He never took it forcefully, just spent his time convincing you and wasn’t that easier than what had already happened?

It wasn’t until you found out he had been enjoying your deep sleep a little too much that you had to call it all off with him.

You hadn’t ever told anyone that. Nolan was a valued member of Jackson. He was big and strong. He worked the patrol routes and fixed up houses. You just helped around wherever you were needed.

Nolan hammered home two harsh truths. The first was that there were no good men. The second was that you unfortunately couldn’t keep away from them.

So you played them at their own game. You got a warm body to sleep next to and they got their dicks wet. You made them work for it. You didn’t hand yourself over in a way that made you feel that skin crawling filthy, the way Nolan and all the men before him made you feel.

There was the introduction of your three date rule. You teased them. Made them want you with a desperation that made sure that they’d tell you all their dirty little secrets. The men of Jackson didn’t want to kick you out because you had dumped them. They wanted you out because you held their worst secrets close to your heart.

They feared the monster of their own creation. You wanted them to fear you. Every cheating, lying scumbag among them.

Joel had been different. He had risen to every single challenge you had offered. He had gone the extra mile for you. Sure he had said stupid things but never out of cruelty. Never to hurt you.

Ellie had told you that Tommy had orchestrated the bail out so maybe he hadn’t expected you to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he had been as much a victim of outside sources as you were.

You had wanted him in a way you had never actually wanted a man before. You hadn’t broken your three date rule in years, never since Nolan. But you couldn’t help yourself, crawling into his lap in a way that made you feel like the games were over.

You wanted them to be over. You wanted to be wrapped in Joel’s embrace, wanted him to fend off the nightmares and hold you when they broke through anyway.

You wanted him on top of you, gasping against your neck, pushing into you slowly. He had been so gentle with you, taking his time with you. He had been bashful about his size, almost apologizing until you had been begging him to fuck your harder and deeper.

You sniffled again and probed the skin of your foot, checking for any pain that could be caused by glass still being inside. When you found none you pushed yourself up, limping out of your room and hitting each light switch on the way, bathing your house in the golden glow.

You found your first aid kit in the bathroom and patched your foot up. The tears had stopped for the most part and you took advantage of that to clean up the broken lamp and the blood.

You’d have to visit the clinic tomorrow and get it checked out but for now the bandages would do. When you looked at the clock you found it to be a little after four. Acceptable enough to get up and start your day.

You wouldn’t be getting any more sleep with those images in your mind and the phantom ache in your arms.

///

“Joel it isn’t that big of a deal.” Ellie sighed, trying to shake the grip he had on her shoulder. He didn’t answer and she rolled her eyes at him, wiping the blood out of her face. “Shimmer is gentle usually, she just spooked.”

“She ain’t broken yet. I told you not to ride her.” Joel huffed, pushing her towards the clinic. She had slapped a piece of gauze over her injury and called it a day. He had half a thought to kill her when he had peeled back the gauze and found the deep wound. “Could’ve died.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Ellie sighed, shaking him at last when they pushed through the door. She let him talk to the receptionist, looking around. She blinked when she spotted you dozing in a chair, bandaged foot elevated on a table. Ellie looked over to Joel who hadn’t spotted you yet and grinned, moving to drop into the seat next to you. “Hey.”

“Fucking- Jesus Ellie. What the fuck?” Your eyes flew open and you almost bolted out of the chair. It was then Ellie took in how exhausted you looked. “Gonna put a fucking bell on you.”

“You just reuse all your lines like that?” Joel asked with a scoff and your eyes widened, turning to look at him and back to Ellie. “Got nothing original, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Ellie asked him, wondering why Joel had his ‘I shoot people for fun’ look on his face.

You were saved from the conversation by your name being called. You pushed yourself up, ignoring Joel’s comments and barely took one step, limping heavily, before Ellie slotted herself in under your arm.

“I’m fine.” You assured her and she shook her head, resolute in helping you.

“She said she’s fine, Ellie.” Joel grunted. Ellie ignored him and supported you walking toward the treatment room.

“Thank you.” You lifted your arm from around her shoulders and supported yourself on the door handle.

She was in the treatment room by the time you had gotten your stitches. You were hoping not to see them again but just as you were receiving a pack of gauze and bandages Ellie stepped out, prodding her own stitches against Joel’s advice.

“What’s the verdict?” Ellie asked, slotting in beside you at the counter. You had been given a pair of crutches and you propped them under your arms.

“Four stitches, no pain meds and the threat of brute force if I’m caught working or walking on my foot.” You told her with a sigh, ignoring Joel’s glare. You felt sort of off balance having him this mad at you. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to but you weren’t blackmailing Joel. You had gotten mad at him for a proper reason.

“I got four stitches too!” Ellie cheered and bumped her shoulder into your arms. “And I’m not allowed nap today. Just in case it’s a concussion. Joel probably won’t let me on a horse ever again.”

“Sucks to be you, I guess. I’m gonna nap all day.” You told her with a shrug, smiling when she laughed at you and shook her head.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a dick. You gonna be okay to get around? I can call by and help?” You frowned at Ellie, eyebrows furrowing at the effort she was suddenly putting in. “What?”

“Thanks for the offer, Honey. But it’s just a little cut. I’ll be fine.” You ruffled her hair before grabbing the gauze and bandages off the counter. “Stay away from them horses, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed and you rolled your eyes before shuffling towards the door, your crutches clicking loudly in the silence that followed. Just before the doors closed behind you you heard it.

“She ain’t your friend. Stop acting like it. She’ll just let you down too.”

If there was one thing you wouldn’t let happen ever again, it was letting a man be right about you.

///

You spent a lot of time out on the rocking chair on your porch over the next few days. The summer was winding down and you were enjoying the last of the warmth before Jackson turned into the frost bitten, snow covered town it was in Winter.

Your foot hurt something awful but it showed no sign of infection which you were grateful for. Without pain meds the best you could do was stay off it.

Reading on the porch seemed to be the best way for it. And so you spent all of your time out there, watching the comings and goings of Jackson. The days were peaceful, allowing you to nap in the chair to avoid the fact you weren’t sleeping at night.

It wasn’t until the creak of your garden gate sounded on the fourth day that your peace was interrupted. Ellie had a large plaster slapped haphazardly on her forehead and a larger grin on her face.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” You asked her with an eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, tossing her book bag down at your front door and taking a seat on the bench on your porch.

“Told them I had a headache. They sent me home. Except Joel is out all day on a patrol and I’m bored.” Ellie explained and you nodded, rocking yourself with your good foot.

“And you can’t call over here while Joel is around cause he told you not to.” You offered. She shrugged instead of denying it and you had to laugh a little.

“Like I said. Joel isn’t my dad. I don’t have to do what he says.” Ellie explained and you rolled your eyes at the pure teenage attitude that poured off her. “He’s afraid I’ll get attached to you. I once got attached to a book full of puns so he’s probably right.”

“Well I mean, you’re only talking to me cause I spent a night with your father figure and you feel bad for interrupting.” You teased and Ellie laughed.

“Nah. I heard about you way before Joel. I take note of women that men hate. It’s important to be feared by men.” Ellie told you honestly and you laughed, shaking your head. “I read a book about feminism. It was in my room in Jackson when we moved in. It’s important to have good female role models.”

“I’m not a good female role model. I’m the opposite of a role model. I sleep with men to get their secrets. That’s not exactly inspiring.” You reminded her and she shrugged.

“Well I ain’t gonna go copying you if that’s what you’re afraid of. Not like I’ll be sleeping around with the men of Jackson.” Ellie scoffed and you tilted your head at her.

“Is that right?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I’m sure the women of Jackson will have as many secrets.”

Ellie flushed a deep red and sat up on the bench, her jaw hanging open. “I never said that.”

“Didn’t have to. I’m very observant.” You told her, letting your head fall back again. “I ain’t gonna tell anyone.”

“Ellie!” You winced and Ellie groaned loudly. It seemed Joel had gotten home early. You continued to rock your chair and took a deep breath. He was just as in the wrong as you were. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“More importantly, what are you doing here?” Ellie asked, laying back down on the bench. “It’s way out of your way.”

“Looking for you. I get back early and hear you’re suffering headaches and can’t find you anywhere.” Joel snapped, pushing in your garden gate. “I told you I didn’t want you hanging around here.”

“She ain’t doing no harm.” You sighed, you hated to get involved but she was shrinking in on herself, away from his anger. “Every kid played hooky once.”

“I didn’t ask you. Last thing she needs is to be hanging around you. She’s a kid, no games to be played with her.” Joel snapped and you huffed a laugh.

“That’s right. I’m the only one who plays games.” You told him, pushing yourself to your feet. You winced, reaching for a crutch. “You know what you did. All the games I played was to prevent you doing that.”

“Oh yeah, the same games you played with damn near every man in this town, huh? I heard it all, Nolan and Abdul had a lot to say.” Joel scoffed, grabbing Ellie’s backpack and waving her forward. She looked between you both before shuffling towards him. “We all had it tough outside Jackson. You don’t gotta punish everyone for it.”

“Is that right? They told you all about me, huh? That’s a silly game for them to have played.” You leaned against your porch railing and grinned at Joel, wide. “Get off my property, Joel.”

[allwaswell16]

🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔

🌟 Baking In December by Itstilliswhatitis

Louis can't believe it! His sisters signed him up for a competition at some bakery and they won! Now he has to spend every day of December baking something with a random dude. Except, the random dude is named Harry and he's hot! Louis realises that this Christmas might be extra special!

🎁 Be Merry All by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}

there is a specific sort of oppression that comes with a miserable so-cal christmas, when it’s dark and dirty and rainy or else it's too hot and too bright and everyone’s hustling, and your family is all far away and the laundry machines in your building are broken and you’ve eaten too much take-out and all you want is two seconds of quiet and maybe a morsel of holiday joy.

🕯️ Can I Fly Home by @sadaveniren {Fic post}

“Nothing? A seventy-eight year old woman just gave birth. It’s clearly supernatural stuff at work. How could you say no?” “No.” “Come on, the mystery has to be getting to you just a little.” “Granny being horny isn’t a mystery, Lou. We’re supposed to be on a break until the new year. The real mystery is why you aren’t content to just stay in one place. We’ve hunted everything imaginable to hunt.” “And yet weird shit still ends up happening, fancy that.” He saw Louis change tactics, sticking out his lower lip, pleading. “Please? Check it out with me and then maybe we’ll come back here for Christmas.” AKA Louis and Harry have been hunting together since they were teenagers and it's beginning to take a toll. Harry wants to retire. Louis plans to die hunting. Maybe a "Christmas Miracle" is just what they need. An advent fic.

🦌 Christmas Advent Calendar by enchantedlandcoffee / @alarrylittlechristmas {Fic post}

A collection of holiday drabbles written and posted leading up to Christmas. One posted per day.

🥁 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 {Fic post}

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

⛄ the holiday remix - choose ur adventure advent series by warmcuppatea / @hlplease {Fic post}

“I love you so much, yeah? And we’ve talked about moving in together when my lease ends. And we’ll be spending so much time together for the holidays, and you know, we get on so smashingly-” “Louis-” Harry laughed. “Spit it out!” “-So I was thinking,” Louis laughed, rubbing his face. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m so nervous!” He laughed. “I was thinking we should test-run living together this month.” Harry and Louis are very in love, but moving in together feels huge. So, naturally, Louis has the idea to do a holiday test-run.

🔔I'll Be Home For Christmas by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {Fic post}

Harry's life seems to be going well. He has a great job working at Festive Furnishings, he has an amazing three year old son called Danny, and his favourite time of the year is approaching. Just as Harry thinks everything is finally going to plan, he finds out that he is going to be losing his home just before Christmas. Louis Tomlinson is happy enough with his lot. He's the CEO of a company he started years ago, Festive Furnishings, he has great colleagues, especially his assistant Harry, and he has the best nephew in the world. But the thing is, Louis is lonely. He has a beautiful house but it's too quiet, especially at this time of year. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. While struggling to find somewhere warm and safe for himself and Danny to stay, Harry makes a decision that might just change the course of everything... and bring himself and Louis closer together as well...

🍪 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {Fic post}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on now, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype. It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

 🎄 kay's 25 days of smutmas by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow {Fic post}

Starting on December 1st, I will be posting a new smut fic everyday until Christmas! These are all one shots of varying lengths and content. As they are posted, I will add the links to this post, summaries and lengths will be included under the break! All fics will be Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson.

💌 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 {Fic post}

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

❤️ Love Actually [L.S.] by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass {Fic post}

Louis Tomlinson has just became Prime Minister of the UK. Harry Styles is a housekeeper at 10 Downing Street. Louis can't help but be enthralled with Harry. But, unfortunately, love has a funny of fucking punching you in the gut.

🎅 Neondiamond's 2023 Christmas Ficlet Party {Fic post}

If you know me at all, you’ll know that two of the things I enjoy most are writing fluffy ficlets, and Christmas. This year, I decided to combine the two and create my own little Christmas ficlet party all throughout December! 8 ficlets, 4 different pairings, many different tropes—all short, fluffy and festive! Perfect for a quick reading break with a warm drink!

☃️ Snow In Love by @lululawrence {Fic post}

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny. People thought they were already dating. Weird. An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

🌲 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {Fic post}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🔔 they're singing 'deck the halls' (but it's not like christmas at all) by doesanyonehearrunningwotah

Louis Tomlinson is no fan of Christmas. Between his douchebag ex-husband/co-parent, his two teenage kids, and the awful fact of his torn-apart family, the holiday season isn't looking to be all that festive. But maybe a boy's trip with his closest friends will lead him to something that'll make the season a little more bearable. Or the one where Louis' a bit of a grinch, Harry's a gorgeous present, and there's more weight to the past than either of them would like.

❄️ We Can Roll in the Darkness by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}

Top and Bottom Construction Co. - “We’ll get the job done, however you prefer it!” Louis looks up from the flyer, and back at Niall. “You must be joking?” Niall shakes his head, his mischievous grin only going wider. “Nope! I already researched them. They have glowing reviews AND they’re affordable. It’s perfect!” He pauses then to give Louis a cheeky wink. “Besides their website says they’re full service.” (Or the one where Louis and his best mate Niall decide to take the plunge and open a pub. The goal is to open Christmas Day, but the building renovations are proving trickier than expected. Insert: a construction company with a questionable name, a certain curly haired builder who catches Louis’ attention, and a little festive chaos along the way).

✨ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}

Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is. Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon. Happy Christmas, here's to many more.

[tevantarlos]

Buck and Tommy Fic Chat

So, I've seen a lot of people say they're going to write the helicopter crash fic where Tommy gets hurt, after the break up. Well, as much as I like that, I'd love to read, or even write (I'm getting some ideas, but they're slow coming) something where Buck gets hurt, and it causes Tommy to do some thinking, apologizing, and they get back together.

I'm not blaming Lou or Tommy for the breakup. I firmly blame OS and the writers for the fuckery that happened. But I'd love to see Tommy worrying over Buck, apologizing, and them getting back together. I DO love the idea of Buck worrying over Tommy. I just feel like we need to shake things up a bit, as all the most recent fic ideas I've seen fans say they have, involves Tommy getting taken care of, and I want Tommy to have a moment of, "I nearly lost the best thing in my life, and I realize now, that I can't let that happen."

I'm not tagging this with any 911 tags, as I've had to block so many assholes in those tags lately. Not just Bvddie fans, but Tommy haters, Lou haters, too. I don't expect everyone to like Tommy, Lou, or BuckTommy, but I can't stand the amount of hate I've seen for them, so I've been blocking people left and right.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 1 (episodes 1-9)

NOTE: I will be doing rewatch liveblogs of multiple episodes per post, because the focus of this blog isn't on the Wakfu cast, and I am not as well versed in their characterisations, so I won't even have much analysis to show you. Sorry ^^;;

Episode 1 - The Child from the Mist

I promise not to get sappy, but seeing season 1 after all these years does make me quite emotional. Ah, how the time flies.

Thank god I'm not a Yugo lore blog. I'd have to translate this too, as if I didn't go through enough psychological trauma. 💀

The sheer Bitch Olympics that would happen if Ruel opened a restaurant and you-know-which-three-men entered it, would cause at least 5 casualties.

I need this so bad. You have no idea how much I need this.

Episode 2 - Yugo the Eliatrope

I hang onto every mention of Bonta like a lifeline. I know Ruel might be lying, but imagining him having some marginal connection though like, Ruel's buddies knowing some people who know buddies of Jurgen-Crepins, is making me giddy.

Remember this tree. It will be important later.

Episode 3 - The Black Crow

Guys I think Ruel likes Bonta.

Anyway now I'm imagining the Bitch Olympics that would happen if he tried to haggle with Kerubim. Pangaea would explode.

I like to imagine this is the sort of life that would await Kerubim, had Lou not been smart enough to flee from the relationship.

[remembers Joris canonically does cartography as a hobby] I think I hauve covid.

Also yes, this episode is the return of the one and only Grav'Mar'Av.

Episode 4 - The Ugly Pageant

[linguistics major voice] It's just that y'know I really wonder what Ecaflip tongue is like and and. Personally, I think Joris is fluent in Ecaflip tongue, but can be a bit rusty at reading and writing it, while—— [I am forcefully taken off stage by the police]

Episode 5 - The Magnificent Five

One of my life dreams is writing a fic that's set during the Wakfu manga, or shortly after it, with Joris on the ship from the manga, or with the Wakfu cast being quests at his home.

The reason I want to do this, is that political discussions between Evangelyne and Joris would go so hard, whether they agree or disagree. They're both the sort of person who can masterfully turn every innocuous topic to Ogrest's Chaos/Monarchy/Climate Change/War. That, and I am a big believer in Evanglelyne&Joris&Amalia friendship (since Amalia and Eva probably had known him as kids, due to politics.)

Episode 6 - Vampyro

I think everyone who wears an enchanted cape to look cooler is a bit of a try-hard edgelord. Sorry not sorry, but this applies to Julith as well.

Episode 7 - Poisonous Beauty

[approaches mic yet again, more haggard, obviously beaten] Rabies confirmed to exist in Krosmoz.

Episode 8 - Xav the Baker

This moment is so important to me. You have no idea how important it is. Yugo and Eva both know that there's not much that he can do to bribe her. And its hilarious.

[puts on tinfoil hat] We know that Chtibrout Town and Xav the Baker are in Amakna. This means that this town is very famous for its baking — enough for a foreign king to be interested, and for a person from Bonta to come to compete here.

That, or this line of thinking is just a sign of my declining mental state.

Episode 9 - Ruel's Bag

The map lore deepens.

A third underwear pervert has hit the pentagon.

[dandylovesturtles]

Top Ten Posts of 2023

I decided, why not? ^^

I'm limiting this to fics/analysis/headcanon/etc posts I made during the year and skipping over anything that isn't my actual creative work. That said, if you're curious, my actual top post was this funky screenshot from episode 2.

10. Everyone's just fine with Donnie modding the moon buggy? (362 notes)

It occurred to me that despite being MASSIVE nerds for the Jupiter Jim franchise, the bros seemed awfully chill with Donnie taking an actual on-set moon buggy and modding the hell out of it.

A few people argued with me in the notes that the Turtle Tank is so cool no one could possibly be mad about it and I do think that's fair. The Turtle Tank is easily my favorite thing Donnie made in the show.

9. Splinter and Leo talk post movie (443 notes)

And then his dad walks in and says, “I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone.” And suddenly Leo doesn’t feel so good anymore.

This is the most recent tumblr fic I've done (I think lol), so seeing it make it this high felt pretty good. I love Splinter and his boys... they make me emotional.

8. A headcanon about the Disaster Twins (445 notes)

I have a headcanon that the twins are lowkey always trying to get each other to laugh.

This is still true.

7. A showcase of Donnie's injuries in End Game (462 notes)

So everyone talks about Donnie getting his shell shredded by the Shredder in Many Unhappy Returns but I feel like it’s underappreciated that that happened to him coming off of getting his ass beat in End Game like

One of the first posts I made when I made this blog haha. Poor Donnie |'D

6. Donnie records everything (617 notes)

broke: Donnie listening to what happened in the prison dimension woke: Donnie showing Raph Leo’s big damn hero speech since he wasn’t there the first time

The main reason why this has so many notes is because @roseverdict wrote a great fic down in the notes that you should all go read.

5. Leo asks Donnie a favor (829 notes)

“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.” “No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists. “Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”

I love writing the Disaster Twins being soft and you guys love it when I write it too.

4. Present Donnie and Future Donnie have a little disagreement (CAS AU fic) (1,242 notes)

“What was I supposed to do, tie him to a chair?” “Yes!?” says Mini-him like he’s stupid, which warrants a scoff.

Shoutout to @skcirthinq who doodled a comic version of their conversation.

3. Casey Jr. and Uncle Tello troll Present Donnie (CAS AU fic) (1,701 notes)

Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello’s voice. Uncle Tello? Do you want to see something really funny?

This is my actual fic with the most notes! I'm glad you all enjoyed this silly little take on what was actually an incredibly intense moment in Cass's original comic.

2. Mikey contacts the Hamato ancestors (2,054 notes)

future Mikey: *trying to contact the spirits of the Hamato for advice and guidance in the apocalypse* Donnie’s spirit: Hello, you are now communing with Donatello.

I can't believe you guys gave over 2K notes to the stupidest joke I've ever made. Shoutout to @nonymous06 for this artist's rendition.

and finally, drum roll please.....

My top post of 2023:

1. A very silly idea for a separated AU (4,283 notes)

non-angsty ROTTMNT separated AU where the boys meet online and bond over their shared love of Jupiter Jim and skateboarding and Lou Jitsu. Then one day they agree to meet irl for the first time at a con and decide to dress as turtle aliens.

This post spawned an adorable fanart by @thatsmutbean , this hilarious fanart by @onionninjasstuff , and an entire fanfic called new phone who dis by @rbtlvr

This has been an incredible year! My love for ROTTMNT has not diminished in the slightest and I still have lots of ideas, so I hope you guys stick with me for 2024. Thanks again! Happy New Year!!

[carlos-in-glasses]

2023 Writing Round Up

Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @reasonandfaithinharmony @jesuisici33 @chicgeekgirl89 @thisbuildinghasfeelings @theghostofashton @orchidscript @welcometololaland @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @alrightbuckaroo

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you're most excited about.

15 fics this year! I have loved writing and sharing every one of them. Thank you to everyone who has read or will at some point. Work is a lot busier these days, so I don’t anticipate writing the same volume in 2024…but we shall see! I just want whatever I share to be good quality, and it’s my New Year’s resolution to keep improving. I love Tarlos. I love writing Tarlos fic. I love this fandom.

January

The Ruins of Wonderland – a reimagining of TK and Carlos getting back together after their breakup. I posted this on New Year’s Day, resolving to start 2023 off on the right fanfic foot.

Chasers – A coda for 3x13. TK talks to Cooper about his past, while Carlos goes for a swim and thinks about his own. When Carlos gets home, he and TK have an important chat. The rection to this fic spurred me on to continue writing in the flashback/vignette/timeline format.

February

Man to Man – A coda for 2x11 and 2x12, which also looks at Carlos coming out to his parents and where he is now with it all.

March

Afterglow of a Supernova – When fiancés TK and Carlos help Carlos’ high school crush and his wife during a call, they end up having a dinner with them that leads to jealousy in an unexpected way. The feedback I’ve had on this fic sent me to the moon on rainbows.

April

The Heart Behind the Shield – My first chaptered fic! I'd been wanting to write a 2x08 coda, but it was 4x04 that made it possible. This combines events from both episodes where there’s duality, and was an absolute blast to write and post.

The Light of Our Life – Listen, I wrote this during an extended lunch break and posted it the same day. For somehow it’s my fifth most kudos’d fic of the year…Thank you!!! We were all deep in our Lou II feelings at this time. Never forget.

Fire Island – TK and Carlos travel to Fire Island, where an older gay couple talks to them about their experience of the AIDS crisis in 1980s New York. This fic by far had the most emotional impact on me while writing it, and based on feedback it seems to be the same for readers(?) People have shared personal stories and memories with me since I posted this, and I just want to say I’m truly grateful for the response, given I wrote it in January but didn’t feel brave enough to post it for a few months.

May

With Infinity Folded Into It – Written for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Countdown to the Wedding event (prompt was: Love). After TK proposes, Carlos remembers the first time they said “I love you.” It’s fluff, it’s smut, it’s kinda angsty because Carlos is trying to bake and baking is stressful.

The Center of the Maze – Another written for Tarlos Weekly Prompts Countdown to the Wedding. (Prompt: "I Never Thought I Would Get This Day".) I thought this was going to be a 2k one-shot; it turned into 20k split into 4 chapters… Seven times they thought they would never get married, and one time when they actually did. I was super inspired and happy with the writing in this one.

June into July

When Soulmates Swim – The closest I’ll ever come to writing a sports AU (….or is it?👀…) Sparks and splashes fly when TK and Carlos each take up swimming while they recover from workplace injuries. I really pushed myself with smut and humour in this fic and the feedback I’ve had has been incredible. One of the most enjoyable writing experiences I’ve ever had, this fic holds a special place in heart.

Release The Hand to Relax the Animal – TK and Carlos explore the world of tantric massage in their own way. Written because Rafael Silva has madly attractive hands, and @heartstringsduet and I thought we should celebrate. You can read Michelle’s hands fic, Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life, Too, here. It is BEAUTIFUL.

(Nothing in August)

September

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines – A 3x08 coda, which also gets into TK and Carlos’ childhood memories of 9/11, and the way that event went on to impact their lives (to the point where it set them on the path to meeting each other). It recieved the most amazing comments, with people sharing their memories of 9/11, so like Fire Island this fic feels deeper to me in a social way.

October

Suddenly in the Silence – I’d ‘joked’ about the show giving us Ghost Gabriel in season 5, but a conversation with thisbuildinghasfeelings led me to explore that concept myself. In this fic, it’s up to the reader to decide whether they think the spirit of Gabriel is around, which made writing it challenging but a lot of fun. It’s so interesting to see what side people fall on!

November

Where All This Love Comes From – This is my Tarlos novel at ~90k words, due to finish posting in February. I began writing it in March, when a hefty amount of plot relied on Gabriel being alive after season 4. Substantial rewrites happened after May, which was pretty gutting at the time, but ultimately I think this has ended up being the best thing I’ve written so far in my life.

December

There is a smutty one-shot coming with a scream very soon…And I hope you like it!

I'm not sure who has already done this - tagging with no pressure if you want to share/haven't already - and open tag!

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @goodways @lemonlyman-dotcom @paperstorm @wandering-night19 @heartstringsduet @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @rmd-writes @rosedavid @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader @taralaurel @three-drink-amy @redshirt2 @noxsoulmate @sanjuwrites @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21

❤️🩷🧡💛❤️🩷🧡💛

[neondiamond]

🎁 Recently Read Fics - December 2023 🎁

These are all the amazing fics I read over the past month (from shortest to longest). Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation if you read any of these! ❤️

🎁 A Green Christmas by @tommokat (871, T)

A short, sweet snapshot of Niall and Shawn’s first holiday season living together.

🎁 to wake up by your side is all I wanna do by @beardyboyzx (1k, G)

Sometimes, Niall still thinks about the way Zayn’s laugh sounds when they watch TV and Niall makes up fake answers for whatever quiz show they’re watching.

🎁 Oh Christmas Three by @tommokat (1k, M)

A birthday surprise goes awry. Louis doesn’t understand. Harry blames the oven.

🎁 make my wish come true by @voulezloux (2k, NR)

the one where all harry wants for christmas is lou

🎁 Baby, please come home by @iysics (2k, T)

Breaking into his neighbour's house wasn't on Harry's Christmas checklist.

🎁 Stuck in Midnight Traffic by @letthemusicmoveyou28 (3k, M)

the one where two broken people meet in an empty tube car on Christmas Eve. Can they find a way to heal each other?

🎁 All The Way Home I’ll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue (3k, T)

Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.

🎁 Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (3k, T)

When Louis himself had first heard those words - all the nurses at the A&E have a secret line to Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve-, not nearly long enough ago to be considered a child himself, but long enough that he hadn't really felt like an adult all the time, he’d laughed them off. Thought they were sweet, of course, but just a line, something said to appease the kids who ended up having to stay overnight. Something to explain the presents that parents brought to the hospital on Christmas morning, or that were waiting for them at home, if they were lucky not to have to stay any longer.

Something that would allow a little bit of Christmas spirit in the sometimes sterile rooms of the hospital.

But that was before he’d met him.

🎁 A Christmas at Home by @parmahamlarrie (3k, T)

After meeting his boyfriend in the emergency room, not having Louis home for Christmas Eve (and his birthday) was not a big surprise to Harry. What he didn't expect was just how hard that would be on his six year old son, Arlo.

Or, the one where Arlo wants nothing more than to celebrate Louis' birthday with him, and Harry hates having to be the parent who says no.

🎁 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by @londonfoginacup (3k, G)

Zayn and Louis are soulmates.

They're also missing some soulmates.

For extra flavour, it's Christmas.

🎁 Elf on the Shelf Suprise by @megz1985 (6k, T)

Liam brings home an Elf on the Shelf to surprise his and Zayn's toddler with Christmas magic, but things don't go as planned when she's completely terrified of her new Christmas friend.

🎁 The Busker by @chelsea-frew (7k, T)

A snowstorm has trapped artist Louis at home on his birthday--Christmas Eve--and on Christmas. Louis anticipates a lonely holiday. A mysterious stranger appears on Christmas morning, however, and Louis doesn't have to spend the day alone. But where did the man come from? Why does he seem familiar? It's a Christmas mystery.

🎁 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 (25k, T)

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard.

It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day.

An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

🎁 You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by @londonfoginacup (32k, T)

Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is.

Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon.

Happy Christmas, here's to many more.

🎁 Snow In Love by @lululawrence (33k, NR)

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny.

People thought they were already dating. Weird.

An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

🎁 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 (33k, E)

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

🎁 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours (34k, T)

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype.

It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  fragilecapric0rn! @fragilecapric0rnn has written 22 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and 21 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@cheatghost recommends the following works by @fragilecapric0rnn:

It Might Be Worth It For Once

clown music at the disco

you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost

Catch Me (I'm Falling)

Anyway, It's About Old Friends

"Sen's body of work is like a truly love letter to the characters. No matter the universe, Steve and Eddie always feel authentic to themselves. Sen's love for classic rom-coms influences a lot of her writing and makes for really romantic, touching stories. It's an absolute delight to dive into a world crafted by this author!" -- @cheatghost

Below the cut, @fragilecapric0rnn answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I think in May of 2022 I was bit by the same bug as everyone else. Before I started writing Steddie, I was on a 4-year fic writing hiatus, and it was like seeing those two interact on screen zapped my brain awake. The chemistry, the potential, the fact that one half of the ship got ripped away from us too soon. All of those components really did something to my brain and I decided I had to write them and I haven’t looked back since!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a idiots to lovers! These two really have the potential to fit that trope so well!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Second-chance at romance! If you’ve seen any of my fics, you know that I love and will take any chance to write 90s older steddie, haven’t spoken or seen each other in years, who re-meet and fall in love. It is so them, it is my favorite version of them. It’s the version of them that lives in my head!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There are so many good ones to choose from, but I think I have to go with Show Me the Place Where He Inserted the Blade by the incomparable, the magnificently talented and outstanding Cheatghost. Lou, who I am very proud to call a friend, is one of the most talented people I know and I feel very lucky to have had them brought into my life via the Steddie brainrot.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Is it lame if I say no? LOL. Honestly, I have written almost everything I have felt the need to explore with this pairing. A lot of my ideas moving forward are expansions/continuations of ideas that I already started or have posted before. 

What is your writing process like?

Right now it’s at its most unstructured because I am rawdogging life without my ADHD meds for the first time in 7 years, which has been a whirlwind but I am managing. However, it usually depends on the fic I’m writing! For a lot of my longfic, I have a physical notebook that has an outline and major plot points I want to hit at certain times in my stories. Other times, for the shorter fics/one-shots, I just write them all in one go. It starts with a (usually silly) idea, and then I get possessed by the writing demons, and suddenly, I haven’t moved from my chair in 2 hours and I have four thousand words on my screen. I contain multitudes!

Do you have any writing quirks?

I am a victim of the: One word. One phrase. Lin breaks for emphasis. And I will be doing it until someone who is being paid real money to publish one of my original works tells me to knock it off!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Again, asking if it’s bad if I say neither? When I first started posting fic again, I was very much writing it all and then posting it over the course of a few days. But now, I tend to write sporadically and post even more sporadically. And I prefer the latter! Fanfiction, and fandom in general, is a collaborative experience in its heart and soul. One of my favorite things about longfic is posting a chapter and seeing what people take away from it, because 9/10 it’ll be different then what the writer thinks they’re going to take away! And the chance to change and rework and let yourself be influenced by other fans of the ship is taken away when you write it all at once and post it all at once.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Anyway, It’s About Old Friends. Even in its unfinished form, it is my magnum opus. My white whale. I have done some of my best writing in it (chapter 2 MY BELOVED) and the fact that its so close to the end is both exciting and terrifying. It is a fic I wrote and continue to write for me, and the fact that other people are reading and enjoying it is a win!

How did you get the idea for It Might Be Worth It For Once?

HA! So, I was chatting with my friend Emily (JudasofSuburbia) about a potential Pornstar!Steve AU offhandedly back in the fall. Then, I got paired with them for a little fic exchange between friends, and it felt natural to take that one off little conversation and turn it into a fic for her. It was one of those fics that started out as a silly idea and then suddenly it’s been six hours and I wrote the whole thing in one go! After some polishing and editing, it became a Pornstar!AU with not as much smut as I expected. It was so fun to write, made even more fun as it was for a dear friend.

When writing Anyway, It's About Old Friends, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to change and mold and morph in the way that it did. There is a version of this fic where they do hook-up earlier, there’s a version where they re-meet at gay club and not a wedding, there’s a version where Steve marries a Evie and Eddie is Raul. But, this version feels the most right. It’s a story about heartbreak, about finding love (in all it forms) in unexpected places, and it’s about found family most of all. All of that was stumbled on accidentally! My only intention was to write a Steddie-fied When Harry Met Sally fic, and accidentally flashed my heart and soul. Whoops!

What inspired clown music at the disco?

I used to be an opener at a coffee shop and there is something so disorienting and mind altering about having disco music blasting on the speakers at 4am. But, it was in one of those moments, where I was so tired I was nauseous, that the fic idea came to me! I had already been thinking of writing as my first fic, Steve and Eddie accidentally have a Devil’s Sacrament moment at the gay bar, but the line “But it’s Disco Night”, came to me at the ungodly hour of 4 in the morning. What a time!

What was your favorite part to write from you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost?

The Never Have I Ever Scene! It was the first time I wrote the entire party in one scene and it’s chaotic and a little messy but it was one of my favorite parts of the fic. It also made me realize how much I love writing ensemble scenes! Just everyone trying to talk over each other, chaos in its best form.

How do/did you feel writing Catch Me (I'm Falling)?

I wrote this fic in the span of like almost 3 weeks? I was sick and burnt out for most of the time I was writing it, but it was almost a compulsion. I had the idea and I just HAD to write it. No outline, just vibes and Steve Harrington in a cheerleading uniform! I took it down for a while because I was turning it into something else, but then had a change of heart and put it back up. And part of me is glad that I took it down for a moment because people love to be weird about the feminizing Steve’s character, and even though I was writing him as a cheerleader, I tried really hard to keep him earnestly himself, and in character.

What was the most difficult part of writing Anyway, It's About Old Friends?

Writing about San Francisco while being the most homesick I have ever been in my life. Also writing Eddie in those first few chapters as an asshole but not unlikable. I didn’t want him to be “fine” (because no one is fine in this universe, especially not in the beginning) but I also didn’t want him to do or say anything too bad. I think I got a handle on it pretty well.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

In Faces Freedom With A Little Fear, the first scene in the hospital with Steve’s sister. She storms in, threatens federal agents, all for her brother. JJ Harrington you will always be famous!

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Just my current WIPs! Anyway It’s About Old Friends; the When Harry Met Sally AU of my dreams. Hand on My Stupid Heart; the modern AU, where the UD exists but everyone has iPhones and Steve deals with his bisexuality!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Shout out to my boys! Kkpwnall, judasofsuburbia, figthefruitfaeth, gideoncharov, cheatghost, fastcardotmp3, snowangeldotmp3 you guys rule and they’re all so talented!!!! Thank you to whoever nominated me! I feel the love and give it back to you tenfold!!!!!!

Thank you to our author, @fragilecapric0rnn, and our nominator, @cheatghost! See more of fragilecapric0rn's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[take-a-cchonce]

Be My Valentine - 6

Let Me Be Your Last First Kiss

Soulmates AU (G) 1.3k

Louis Tomlinson x Harry Styles

There was one boy in particular, with rectangular glasses and a beanie pulled down over his hair who caught his eye, gesturing extravagantly as he boomed out the lines to what sounded like Grease in front of a small group gathered appreciatively in front of him. 

OR

Harry just changed schools, and finding his soulmate wasn't what he expected at all

No warnings!

A/N: I am back at it with the Oops, Hi! Headcanon. I’m obsessed. Sorry not sorry. For the purpose of this fic, lets assume H and Lou are the same age. Also i wandered into the love at first sight category instead of first love but eh. As always, huge thank you to Akeyla for this fest! <3

Title from 1d's 'Last First Kiss'

Harry brushed his fringe aside, digging his other hand awkwardly into the pocket of his jeans. “I know, mum,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice level, not wanting her to sense his apprehension and fear. “I’ll keep my nose clean, I’ll behave, drink water and message you when I leave. Don’t worry, I’ll be responsible,” 

“When are you not, baby?” Anne smiled, reaching up to adjust his hair for him, Harry already gangling over her at 16. 

“Oh, don’t cry mum,” Harry said, scrunching his face up as he furtively looked around to see if anyone had noticed them yet, “It’s not like it’s my first day of school or anything. It’s just a new one. I’ll survive,” 

He wasn’t sure he would. Moving here hadn’t been easy. Holmes Chapel had been so small, everything was so familiar. Everyone had known everyone else, and Harry had had his own group of friends. 

He’d have to start over again, and this school was so much bigger. Swallowing down his worries, he smiled and waved goodbye to his mum, walking into the big brick building, looking around from the admin block as he passed through the huge glass doors.

A couple of minutes later he was standing in front of another set of double doors. He quickly glanced up at the room number, cross checking it with the time table clutched in his hand. He could peep through the little glass inlays in the door and see people moving around, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

Sure that it was, indeed, the room he was supposed to go to for his first period drama class, he pushed the door open, eyes catching at the grey anchor on his wrist. He tugged the sleeve of his jacket down as he entered. 

It wasn’t exactly like he was ashamed to know he had a soulmate, many did, but he didn’t want it advertised in front of everyone. He shivered a little at the prospect as he made his way to the back of the class, the entire room empty with all the desks pushed up to the sides.

Everyone was loud enough to not have noticed him when he entered. Many were grouped together, going through what seemed like lines. There was one boy in particular, with rectangular glasses and a beanie pulled down over his hair who caught his eye, gesturing extravagantly as he boomed out the lines to what sounded like Grease in front of a small group gathered appreciatively in front of him. 

He pulled his eyes away, wondering if there was some pre-requisite reading he had somehow missed out on. He set his bag down on a desk as he leaned against it, riffling through his bag to check if he had actually missed something. The last thing he wanted was to make a bad impression on the first day.

“Hi,” he heard a soft voice to his left and whipped around, mind already reeling with how he had practiced he would introduce himself. All thoughts vacated his head at the sight in front of him. It was Beanie-Boy. He could see his eyes more clearly now and was seized with an inane urge to rip his glasses off and just stare at his eyes. 

His gaze wandered up to the feathery bits of hair peeking out from under his beanie and found himself wondering why Beanie-Boy covered everything up. His hair looked very soft and Harry wondered what it would feel like between his fingers,

He was jerked out of his reverie when the other boy cleared his throat, blushing.

“Oops,” he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to stare, I just-” he held out his hand, shooting him a small smile. “I’m Harry,”

“Louis,” Beanie-Boy smiled back and Harry barely had time to notice that there was a grey mark circling his wrist before he felt his own burning up. He glazed down at his hand shoved into the pocket of his jacket and oh-

The anchor was getting darker.

Louis was frowning down at his own hand, and Harry stared at him for a moment before the realization hit him. 

“Is that an anchor?” Louis said, voice low enough that Harry had to lean forward to hear. Louis’ eyes were now fixed on Harry’s jacket. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out, too dumbfounded to say anything else. 

“Oh my god,” Louis exclaimed, “I- mine’s a rope. I always thought it was a bit stupid. Like- i was tied up or something but I-” he broke off, staring at Harry’s face now and Harry felt a bit warm, blushing a deep red. 

“We’re soulmates?” they both said simultaneously, Harry sounding like he was in disbelief, Louis nothing but overjoyed.

“This is not how I pictured my first day going,” Harry admitted with a sheepish chuckle, letting go of Louis’ hand almost grudgingly.

“Me neither, Curly. But I like it,” Louis grinned and Harry found himself a lot more flustered than the nickname called for. 

The door swung open and everyone hushed, lining up against the walls as the teacher walked in. 

“What say, Curly?” Louis smiled, taking Harry’s left hand in his right and leading him to the back of the class, rope lining up with the anchor perfectly. Harry smiled at the sight. “Bowling sounds good?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled back, biting his lip as he tried to disguise the look on his face. “Bowling sounds great,” 

He couldn’t wait for the day to end.

“I can’t believe this is all actually happening. I mean, if you would have told me back then- when I joined, I mean- that I would be at prom with my soulmate. I wouldn’t have believed it,” Harry whispered to Louis, looking down at their joined hands. Louis turned his head to press his lips against Harry’s temple, leaning the chair onto its back back feet as they watched the rest of their year dancing. 

“Me neither,” Louis said, and Harry could’ve sworn he could hear the smile in his voice, “I mean when I saw you coming in, looking around and like- you thought no one noticed you,” he chuckled, “Have to be blind to not notice you, by the way. I’d made up my mind already, but to… see our marks. We were always meant to be,”

Harry flushed, batting his free hand weakly against Louis’ thigh. “Stop being so over the top,” 

“I’m not!” Louis protested, “We’re literally soulmates!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be soppy,” Harry giggled, flushing despite his words.

Louis paused for a moment, and Harry raised his head off Louis’ shoulder, a little concerned as he tried to read his expression in the dim lighting. 

“I love you, Haz,” Louis said softly,

Harry smiled back at him, tilting his head to the side and watching him for a few moments before leaning in for a soft kiss. “I know. We’ve been over this,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow with a smirk, ducking when Louis made to ruffle his hair. 

“Hey, it took me hours to get my hair right,” he giggled, slightly out of breath, “Now will you ask me for a dance already,” he smiled, getting up with his fingers still linked with Louis’.

Louis shook his head fondly as they made their way to the centre of the floor, looping his hands around Harry’s waist as they turned to face each other, moving slowly. The younger boy rested his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I love you, Louis,” he whispered. 

“I love you too, baby. We’ve been over this,”

A/N: Reblogs are always appreciated 💕

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the fics from weeks 9-10 of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2023! Every two weeks, we’re compiling all of the fics from that period into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

part time soulmates (full time problem)

A fic by localopa on AO3 | @voulezloux on Tumblr

12k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

sworn enemies harry and louis are soulmates. everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

--

Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets

A fic by Whoopsiedaisiesss on AO3 | @shining-louist on Tumblr

6k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis. --- Or the one where Louis suffers from anxiety. His rivals with Harry makes this even worse. Until one day he accidentally calls Harry during one of his panic attacks. Harry just wants Louis to feel better. He always does.

--

Bend the Rules

A fic by youreyesonlarry on AO3 | @youreyesonlarry on Tumblr | @youreyesonlarry on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

--

The Writing on the Wall

A fic by stylinsonwritingpalace on AO3 | @stylinsonwritingpalace on Tumblr

7k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When BookToker Louis receives a gift basket filled with all his favorite sweets, wines, and stuffed animals alongside the new Harry Styles book, he's shocked at the story he finds in the pages. ----- For BLFF Prompt 85: Louis is a literature teacher who spends his free time either making videos on Instagram or TikTok (author’s choice) talking about his favorite books. His audience knows how obsessed he is with a specific author, from his poems to his novels, he reads and gushes about every single one of his works because he always feels as if they were written to him. That was why when he receives a special PR package with his favorite sweets, wine, and the author’s brand new book, it only took him hours to finish the whole thing. Only this time, to his shock, the story on the pages of the book were too familiar to him. It was the story of how Louis broke his ex’s heart.

--

Define me again

A fic by Hazzascul_07 on AO3 | @hazzascul on Tumblr

54k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

--

in deep devotion

A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | @omegalouis on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

With no signs of presenting at the age of sixteen, no official designation by age eighteen, Harry was no match for the line of Alpha suitors Louis attracted with his sweet, gravitating disposition and breathtaking beauty. His presence commanded attention. His movements were graceful, his skin tinged by the sun, his smile infectious, and his eyes the color of the sea.

--

You Were Always Mine

A fic by GoldenSunflouervol6 on AO3 | @sunflouervol6 on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 45: A/B/O fic where Louis and Harry have a lot of mutual friends but they don’t get along (mostly Louis doesn’t like Harry). One day, Louis turns up on Harry’s doorstep covered in blood and asking for help. (Inspiration: Prompt #126 from the BLFF 2021).

--

give my heart a holiday

A fic by Ashisinlove on AO3 | @ashisinlove28 on Twitter

14k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.

--

always tell the truth

A fic by anditsonlyforthebrave on AO3 | @HARRYSC1NEMA on Twitter

5k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry is Louis' dentist and getting a wisdom tooth removed shouldn't be the end of the world.

--

Wait For Me

A fic by cherrygelb on AO3 | @cherrygelb on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Moving to a new place always comes with a few challenges. For Harry, it’s trying to start over after his divorce, while still doing his best taking care of his son. Though just like every parent, he is not infallible, so some mistakes are bound to be made, settling into his new role as a single-dad. For his son, Davie, moving means he has to get used to all the changes happening in his life through no fault of his own. Discovering a secret passageway on their new property lets him form an unlikely friendship with the young man and his dog he finds on the other side. BLFF 2023, Prompt 391: Harry’s son gets very attached to Louis! Maybe they just randomly meet at first (possibly neighbors?) and then the kid just keeps running back to Louis without telling his dad.

--

Remember to give these fics kudos and comments, and spread their fic posts!

--

All roundups will be linked here:

Weeks 1-2 Roundup

Weeks 3-4 Roundup

Weeks 5-6 Roundup

Weeks 7-8 Roundup

Weeks 9-10 Roundup

Week 11 Roundup

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of April. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) April Drools! | Explicit | 1,424 words

Louis offers a particularly slobbery blow job to his clients who'd rather not be made a fool of on April 1st. Of course, he's got an option for those who don't mind being a little humiliated as well.

2) Politician AU | Mature | 1,816 words

Part 15 of the Politician smau that you can find on babygirloui on twitter

3) Soulmates | Mature | 3,751 words

Request: They were never together, but always had feelings for each other in the band. Now they are both on tour, Lou is an omega and Harry an Alpha, one day they casually meet at a coffee and they find out they are soulmates.

4) Rollerskate Love | Mature | 18,826 words

This is a story I will write together with you as a reader. I'll post a chapter and at the end of the chapter you'll suggest shat will happen next and we'll continue like that until the story is done. As an Omega in the middle of the Eightees finding a job isn't easy but Louis is determined to make that happen even if he has to lie to get it. Roller skating can't be that difficult, right?

5) Last Chance | Explicit | 19,039 words

Harry Styles is a 25 year old dominant who can't keep a sub because they say that he is too strict and no sub wants to be with him. He is now on his last sub who can make or break his dom status. That sub is Louis Tomlinson a 19 year old who cannot keep a dom because of his sassy behavior and no one can keep him in line. Harry styles is his last hope to stay a submissive. Will they be able to stay together or will the whole relationship fall apart? Find out!

6) I Thought We Were Forever - The Moments In Time | Explicit | 21,890 words

The story of Harry and Louis in the universe of "I thought we were forever", going from the beginning to the end and with every little moment in between. Prompts will be open if you want me to write something in particular

7) Your Eyes Are Tired But Keep Them Open Cause You Wouldn’t Wanna Miss A Thing | Explicit | 144,281 words

Louis is an omega in an abusive relationship everyone forced him into; he’s miserable until he meets his favorite student’s uncle, Harry, a gentle alpha with a big heart.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[spectralsleuth]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

This is such a sweet and fun ask!! Thanks so much! I enjoyed seeing other authors answering this it’s so hype to get it myself.

1. This is hard to answer, because this year I tried to do something different with every fic I posted. When I got a concept I very pointedly didn’t shy away from it because it seemed difficult, or I thought I might be bad at it, so there’s something that makes me proud with each one. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE THOUGH I’m going to cheat and pick two.

What it Will Be I’m proud of this because it fell out of me SO EASY. I felt like the process of writing it was a testament to how hard I’ve been working at improving all year, and it came together very quickly and very well. I’m also proud because I incorporated @heckitall ‘s comic page to base it off of, and I’d never tried writing fic for a visual media like that. It was super fun!

On the OTHER end of the spectrum is Case of the Hidden City vs Lou Jitsu because it is VERY technically and narratively complicated and is by far the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written. It’s very hard, but I am VERY proud because I haven’t QUIT it. It’s not complete yet, but it is a good amount of the way there and I’m excited to finish it. Probably once I’ve recovered from surgery lol.

2. This sounds insincere maybe, but I really am happy with the engagement I get on my fic. I really do write my fic for me, and while I love to make sure as many people who want to read it can find it, at the end of the day I don’t like assigning people homework! I went through my whole works list and scratched my head and really tried to think of there was anything I wanted to plug, and I don’t think there is!

I guess I’ll post my lowest viewed, my Swanatello fic! @tangledinink ‘s AU I’m sure everyone’s familiar with lol. I knew that one would be lower when I posted it, if only because it has prior required reading (Swanatello). But I wrote it mainly because the AU was starting to reach a critical point and I REALLY wanted to write fanfiction of how I fantasized an ending might be, so I could go back and read it for comfort. I love Odette and the lore Kayson made for his AU, so I’ll plug this only because I think some people may have missed it!

3. Three works!! JUST THREE?? AUGH.

little kid with a big death wish

By @remedyturtles ! This made me leak tears the whole way through, so huge CW’s obviously. Not only was it one of the best fics I’ve ever read, but I got the privilege of seeing how talented Rem is behind the scenes a little and saw how they write and work and I really want to emulate them going forward. One of many all timer fics for me, for sure, I’d love to read any original fiction they put out.

The Whispering Forest and Other Tales

By @sroloc--elbisivni and @kithnkin ! I love love LOVE the feudal Japan fusion, the research, and the perfect blend of Usagi Yojimbo’s universe with what the Riseverse would have been like in this era. Even the little segues into what they’re wearing and eating is endlessly fascinating to me. Every single character is written to be the best and most interesting version of that character I could imagine. Theres Leosagi, there’s a PB&J murder mystery, there’s spookiness- AND Raphael Hamato gets wifed up!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT? I love people that write a fully fleshed story that could be a standalone universe, without losing ANY of the flavor or humor or narrative of the original source material.

And last is I’m Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now

@tangledinink has such a good grasp of family and writing, and realistic portrayals of what would HONESTLY HAPPEN if you discovered literally any aspect of the ROTTMNT narrative. Not even taking into ACCOUNT the turtle nonsense, how do you unpack a family that’s been devoted to destroying a magic monster and sacrificing themselves, or a Dad that fought in a death match battle royale for over a decade, or a RIVAL CLAN OF NINJA? All the characters are written SO WELL, and Kayson does a fantastic job of never letting the characters or story fall into cliche tropes. Their characters are always super detailed, to the point where I really feel it if they’re hungry or hurt or itchy. Which is a weird thing to point out but they make sure you really FEEL the situation. Also like, turtles in highschool? Body dysphoria? My CO-CEO of Hamato Yoshi???

What a great year!! I had so much fun in fandom this year and made a lot of friends.