#i just want to curl up in a ball and pretend the world isn't real 0

[secretlyofthefeywild]

prof just canceled the class i was genuinely debating not going to <3

[parfaitblogs]

i NEED a angst fic (with a happy ending ofc) based on tolerate it by taylor swift please 🙏 big chance it’s been done before though and im just the most unoriginal bitch ever

tolerate it ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid gets out of prison, and you baselessly feel like your relationship is growing increasingly one sided.  pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. neglectful bf spencer reid. happy (open) ending. communication yippee. themes of self doubt in reader. mentions of spencer not eating.  word count: 2k a/n: writers block isn't real you just need to watch criminal minds season 12 episode 13 'spencer' and then listen to tolerate it on repeat for three hours straight. iiii know human beings don't talk in long monologued speeches but for the sake of my sanity let us pretend i am shakespeare and spencer reid is my leontes. plzzzz tell me if u liked this or if u didn't yay thank u ily

i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do, or don't do. (lines 3–4)

A fork scrapes against ceramic. It emits a scratching sound that hurts your ears, and you're cringing from your curled up position on the couch as you hear it. Silverware shines beneath the bright, warm glow of his kitchen light, his food barely dented as he pushes it around his plate. 

He's been playing with it since he sat down to eat it. 

You're not too sure what's going through his head as he takes barely there bites of a meal you cooked. You don't think you want to know. But it takes him all of twenty three minutes to come to the same conclusion he made last night, and every other night before that. That he isn't going to eat any more of the food, and just like his fork, his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. 

He wraps the plate in aluminium foil, the crinkling of metal being your only indicator that he has plans to eat it later. At least, that's what you hope. 

When he disappears into the bedroom, you follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, you're trailing after him, and your chest feels hollow with how embarrassing it all is. 

He doesn't know you're watching him, though. 

At least, not to the extent you are. He's field trained enough to know that you're keeping an eye on him, but your silence is only indicative of you giving him the space he so politely asked for three days ago. He's not in his right mind to assume you're silent for any other reason, and you've battled to a loss with the thoughts of letting him into your disaster of a brain. 

He doesn't need to know that.

The ensuite door shuts behind him, and you hear the water turn on minutes later. You take the cue to curl up on your side of the bed, your fingers toying with the paper edges of a book you now had in your lap. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for you were rediscovering your love for children's novels amongst this trying time between you and Spencer. 

"Hey, did you buy me more shampoo?"

Your head lifts at the voice, the snowy Narnia world you had built in your brain shattering in an instant, as you're met with the dull colours of Spencer Reid's bedroom, and a showered and dressed Spencer Reid standing only a few feet away. His bedroom hadn't always been dull. Really, nothing had actually changed artistically within it to make it dull. But there's something about no longer laughing in a room once filled with so much love that mutes its vibrance. 

"Yeah," you say, dog-earing the page you were on and slipping it onto the nightstand. "I saw you were running low."

His lips part as he exhales, and you hate that you can tell he's pushing away something snippy. It wasn't that he was actively trying to start fights with you, but his temper has grown short, and he has more anger in his heart than before. 

"You didn't get the right one, that's all."

And though it isn't said rudely, your chest opens up like a black hole regardless, and a thick ball of emotion lodges in your throat.

"I'm sorry," you force past your lips, despising the hollow sound of your sad voice, and the fact that he notices it. His eyebrows frown towards each other at the sound of you, and he takes a step towards the bed.

It's pathetic, right? To be this upset over him letting you know the thing you bought him wasn't correct. In that almost fake sounding soft, kind voice he has when he is trying to keep his unnecessary frustration at bay. 

But it wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something for him in recent, and been told you did it wrong, instead of simply being thanked. Acts of service he was finding problems within no matter what they were, each new critique chipping away at the scales of your self confidence. You don't even think he's meaning to do it.

Every time this happens, memories of the other times flash violently in your head, reminding you that he could not find the beauty of being cared for by you the way he had before this. This, this thing you were barely even able to string the letters of together, because it seemed so foreign and faraway to you. Spencer Reid in prison is not a sentence that makes sense in this — or any other — timeline. You don't think it ever will. And yet.

You'd cooked him meals every single day since he got out. Meals he'd barely ever touch, wrap in foil, then put in the fridge for his work lunch the next day. You don't know if he's even eating them at work, or if he's just taking them there to throw them out. You've been too scared to reach out to any of his team members to ask. Knowledge is power, but knowledge makes his negligence all too real. 

There's a fear in calling it negligence. It isn't fair of you to expect the same man before and after prison, and you know he's dealing with more than you can fathom. You were prepared for distance. 

Just not this much.

The submerged sound of your name tugs you from your thoughts, and suddenly Spencer is closer than he was before, and he's repeating your name over and over in calling. Once you rapidly blink and shake your head, he determines you've returned to Earth, and he's falling silent again. There's concern knitting his eyebrows together, and he's got his hands hovering in the air, as if he's reaching for you, but second guessing himself at the same time. 

"Whats going on in your brain?" he asks you after a few beats of the two of you just staring at each other. 

Like a dam breaking, his question triggers an onslaught of emotions, and every fear and insecurity you've had inside you spills out.

"I feel like you suddenly hate me," your eyes rapidly search the duvet in front of you for your words. "Or—or I annoy you with my presence? Or my care? I mean, I try to do things for you and you barely even spare them a second glance, or thought. You barely talk to me anymore outside of updating me on your schedule. We sleep with miles of distance between us," you gesture to the bed beside you. "I cook you meals you don't eat, I wash your clothes you don't fold. Both of which are things that I'm fine with, because I can't imagine how skewed your appetite is, and I—I know laundry is a trigger now. But there is not even a slight hint of you—you being thankful. You know, appreciative. I feel like I'm following you around like a servant, and I'm doing things with no gratitude in return. I'm doing things I shouldn't have to, because I'm your girlfriend. Not your maid. But they are things that I want to do, because I care for you, and I love you," you pause, a self deprecating smile appearing on your face. "And—and you haven't even told me you love me since the day we got you home. Do you even love me, still? No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I mean, I do. I don't know. God, Spencer, can you say something?"

He doesn't. For a long while, he stares at you, and you train your eyes on the pattern on the bedding you're currently sitting under. His gaze is pulverising, and every second that passes is another limb turning to dust beneath it. His silence should be enough of an answer for you. Yet, you hold onto groundless hope still.

It feels like eternity has passed you by, by the time you hear his voice again.

"I don't mean to make you think I don't love you," he says. "I do love you. Which feels meaningless to confess to you now, knowing how you feel, and I wish my expansive knowledge of words could come up with a confession that does justice to how you feel, but also makes you feel better. I can only hope you take it at face value, and don't assume I'm saying it because it's what you want me to say." 

He finds a seat on the bed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with each other as he fixates on the wooden flooring in front of him. 

"I am grateful for everything you've done for me recently. I'm sorry I haven't expressed that. I'm having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other, let alone stringing together sensical thoughts. I wish I could tell you what my mind sounds like without feeling guilty about it. It isn't nice, and every thought I have is far from positive," he lifts his eyes to you, and you watch in real time as they soften, for the first time since he came home. "I will tell you that there's you. Among every awful thought and feeling I have, there is you. I think I... I think I've been coming across as ungrateful because you are a breath of relief after every bad thought and feeling. Am I making sense?" you nod your head, and he sighs in, namely, relief. "I take a step back from processing my emotions and figuring out how I'm going to talk about them with that bureau therapist when I think about you, because you are the one good thing I have to hold on to. So I just bask in the thought of you, or the sight of you, and focus on nothing else."

You aren't sure when you began to cry, and you only realise it when you have to sniffle before speaking. "You can focus on so many things at once, though." 

"Not anymore," he admits, looking back down. "I don't know what's happened. I've gone from having a brain that works inhumanly — which is objectively an incorrect statement, but I digress — to one that cannot multitask on two separate things at once." 

"Oh," you whisper. "I see."

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as though your efforts go unnoticed, honey," he murmurs. "They don't. This has just been really difficult."

"I know," you say, wiping your tear stained face with the back of your hand. 

There's a part of you that wants this to be the end of it. The end of self doubt, and distance, and instead the beginning of your relationship rebuilding itself alongside Spencer. 

There's a larger, more logical part of you, that knows you cannot just sweep every self conscious doubt under the rug and move on. 

"I just want some time," you tell him, and his shoulders tense as you speak. "Not to—not to break up. Or even for us to have a break. I don't want that. I've just felt very... unloved. Like you're merely tolerating my presence in your life. And now, I know you aren't. But I have to find my confidence in myself in this relationship again before I can move on."

"Okay," his voice is strained as he speaks, and you know he's not exactly content with your request for space.

You try not to focus on that, in order to stand firm in your decision. 

That is where the conversation ends. And just like every other night, he climbs into bed and leaves a considerable amount of distance between your two bodies. You choose not to dwell on it, because this is now him giving you the space you so politely requested. You were catastrophising, and you'd be damned if you let such a thing control your life any longer. 

It maybe wasn't all in your head, but you still had to take the self doubt shaped dagger from your stomach out.

now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (line 30)

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sillygoofyqueer]

Part two of what I'm tentatively labelling the Ferryman AU :P (if this sounds disorganised it's because I'm feeling like if I don't write this down something Bad will happen)

Okay so we left off with something or other I'm not going to pretend to remember basically now I need to tell you important things. Okay so, there's one day when the veil between life and death is at its thinnest and it's the only day that Wei Wuxian can cross through into the mortal realm - unlike other gods, who can cross through at any time. Why? Uh. Because Wei Wuxian has an evil boss called Bai Wuxiang who he's certain is fucking that weird emperor god Jun Wu (oh honey, it's so much more simple than that). Okay, that's not the only reason - the real reason is because it's the one day where the dead spirits can interact with the live world, and Wei Wuxian acts as their guardian, but he mainly lets them do what they want because he will Know if they do something that endangers either other spirits or living beings. I completely forgot to mention but obviously this day of the dead is Wei Wuxian's birthday because of course I'm going to angst that up, who do you take me for. There's so much I want to splurge about but first let's talk about the cool ass backstory/reasoning I've got for why Wei Wuxian became this Ferryman deity type guy. So so so, Baoshan Sanren was the Ferryman, untethering souls and guiding them in groups to the afterlife, all of that jazz. She heard all kinds of final wishes and regrets and promises and words, and she tried to fulfil them when she had the chance (she was less overworked than Wei Wuxian for Reasons). When she stumbles across a couple of cultivators dying in one another's arms, she hears the strongest regrets and wishes ever - not for the cultivators themselves but for the son they had apparently left in a nearby village. Those are the wishes that stay with her, and the first ones she moves to fulfil when she gets a tiny bit of free time. She finds a tiny little boy in Yiling, so scared and alone and her cold immortal heart aches because she may be used to scooping children's souls up out of their bodies but that doesn't mean she ever gets used to seeing a child in pain. She hates how this little infant looks, and finds herself going back to Yiling whenever she has time. She just wants to help this little A-Ying find someone safe and loving to look after him. The Ferryman cannot interact with the living, though. Well...apart from one day of the year. Every time that day rolls around, she's there to give A-Ying some food and love, wishing that she could do more for him - Bai Wuxiang is an asshole and hates the living, he hates it when the gods mingle with mortals, let alone helps them, so this is all she can do. Every year. Every day that A-Ying gets a little older. Food and support. He begins to look for her before she can go looking for him, beaming up at her as though he isn't hurt or scared or alone, as though he's not being beaten by assholes or attacked by dogs. Baoshan Sanren understands the meaning of helplessness in a way she never has before. Meanwhile, bitch fuck Jun Wu is like "damn my Ferryman is becoming far too attached to this-" and then he sees Wei Wuxian and is like Fuck because when someone has a chance at ascending, there's this sort of aura around them that is detectable by absolute fuck faces - I mean by the Heavenly Emperor. Jun Wu doesn't want this little riffraff freak to ascend because there's something Off about him (it's because little A-Ying has always been on the edge of the border of life and death and it shows with how resentful energy clings to him). So Jun Wu decides to kill two birds with one stone by getting rid of his Ferryman's worldly attachment and avoiding someone he dislikes getting into Heaven. Baoshan Sanren finds A-Ying's body. She also finds his soul sitting next to it, curled up in a little ball and crying, and yet still smiling and asking her why she's come early this year.

[moririki]

⤷ AN EIGHT-LEGGED PROBLEM

OIKAWA TOORU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI & HAIBA LEV & MIYA ATSUMU X READER -> 1.8K
you save your boyfriend from a massive problem which is currently in the corner of your bathroom )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> spiders, bugs, you picking up said creepy crawlies, hq boys being no! help! at! all! (but that's ok bc we love them for it), fanon-ish sakusa cos i haven't read the manga and he had like 5 seconds of screen time so i'm just going off of what i've read + seen, clear favouritism despite the fact that i know basically nothing about sakusa, manga timeskip spoilers in sakusa's
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> haven't seen one where the reader is the one in the relationship who takes care of bugs so since i'm a #girlboss who throws spiders out of my room whenever i see them without breaking a sweat i'm writing that into a fun lil thing with the haikyuu boys that i strongly believe are scared of bugs. also besides the point but look at the pretty colour palette that their banners make fjfjfjdj will go back to writing the requests after this! inspiration just struck

❍ OIKAWA TOORU

-> omg this fucking guy

-> don't let his pride fool you this man HATES bugs with a burning passion

-> he'll never admit it though

-> between you and the aoba johsai team he would never hear the end of how the great king oikawa would cower at the sight of a moth doing laps around a lightbulb

-> so when you pretended not to hear the shriek that left your boyfriend when he saw something flying around the bathroom light and he declined your offer to get rid of the moth for him, this left oikawa in a pretty difficult situation

-> it was just him alone in the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth while eyeing the bug warily

-> you came in a few minutes later, getting ready to go to bed as well

-> "you know, babe, that moth's been there for quite a while," you teased him

-> oikawa hummed in response, his eyes never leaving it as it continued its circumnavigation of the light fixture

-> "oh, you know. who am i to kick someone out of their home? i'm no monster"

-> you almost snorted at how poor of an excuse that was, but ruffled your boyfriend's hair anyway

-> "i'll take care of it, ru, you just finish getting ready"

-> "but y/n-chan, that moth has feelings! don't be mean to it!"

-> you gave tooru a very blank stare at that

-> "so do you want me to leave you alone with your new friend?"

-> "......no"

-> "that's what i thought"

-> you went up to the moth, managing to trap it in your hands before releasing it from a window

-> oikawa shuddered as you came back to the sink, giving your hands a quick rinse before resuming with brushing your teeth like nothing had happened

-> "you're so brave, my love"

-> "anything for you, babe"

❍ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> bless this poor boy

-> so it's no secret that sakusa isn't the fondest of germs

-> and that extends to bugs and spiders too

-> besides a normal amount of disgust that he held for them, the thought of where the insects had been or placed one of their many feet on never failed to make his skin crawl

-> that's where you, his wonderful significant other, comes in

-> as much as he loves you, he just can't understand how you always stared at bugs with wonder in your eyes

-> you'd even pick them up, cooing at the way they crawled up your arm while sakusa just stared at you in disbelief with a can of bug spray in hand

-> tonight was one of those swelteringly hot summer nights

-> you know, the ones where the air seems to be still no matter how many windows you open and every insect in a mile radius is actively trying to enter your home

-> you were spending the night at your boyfriend's apartment, ready to have a relaxing night in with him since your schedules had finally synced up and allowed you both to enjoy a day off at the same time

-> it took months of trust before sakusa finally admitted to you how much he enjoyed doing skincare

-> so whenever you two spent the night together, you decided to start the evening with some face masks and idle binging of a tv show

-> against his half-hearted protests, you had insisted that sakusa wore a headband while this happened (one that had a very cute duck face printed on it)

-> just to keep the curls out of his face, of course

-> whenever he caught you sneaking a candid of him with facemask and duck headband on, he just shot you a halfhearted glare and threatened you to never send that to atsumu or the rest of the msby team

-> (you set it as your home screen instead)

-> anyways, i digress

-> so tonight you decided to cool down from the heat with a few facemasks and cuddling in your boyfriend's heavily air conditioned living room

-> but he kept all his skincare stuff in the bathroom, so you went to go get them as he set up a show to watch along with some snacks

-> you flicked on the light, going to his cabinet when something in the corner of the room caught your eye

-> there was a fairly large spider, desperately trying to crawl up the smooth tile wall

-> you decided to take pity on it and release it

-> but when you had it cupped safely in your hands, you decided to terrorise your poor boyfriend just a little

-> "hey, omi, look what i found!"

-> your boyfriend perked up at your signature nickname for him, though his eyes narrowed as he saw your clasped hands held in front of you

-> "no"

-> "but baby, you haven't even seen-"

-> "no"

-> you giggled at how defensive he had become

-> "come on, don't you want to name it? it's very cute"

-> "i want you to throw it out, y/n"

-> "alright, alright"

-> you took the spider to a window, releasing it back outside before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing a few masks for real this time

-> sakusa gave you the cold shoulder as you sat down next to him, humming as you gave him a face mask and putting it on without a word

-> "aww, baby, i'm sorry"

-> "..."

-> "i'll give you a head massage if you stop ignoring me?"

-> sakusa turned to you, his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared you down

-> the act soon broke, though, and he smiled against the sheet mask that was on his face

-> "it better be a good one," he huffed as he tugged the duck headband off, already sighing at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp

-> "omi, come on, what do you take me for?"

❍ HAIBA LEV

-> ngl lev gives off equal amounts of being terrified of like the tiniest spider or just finding bugs insanely cool vibes

-> it's funnier to imagine this 6-foot-something guy scramble away from a fucking crane fly in terror though so this is how it's going to play out

-> when you invited your giant of a boyfriend to your flat, you didn't anticipate just how small he made everything appear

-> he even towered in your doorway, having to stoop to step through into your hall

-> "woahh, i love your place!"

-> it was his first time staying over for the night, and lev was making sure to drink in every aspect of your interior design

-> you found it sweet of him, and watched as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the little trinkets you had collected over the years to make your small apartment seem more like a home

-> you didn't expect him to scream at the top of his lungs and practically run back to you, though

-> you jumped at the sound, watching as he scrambled away from your lamp and pointed back at it with a shaking finger

-> you squinted at it, making out the very menacing form of a crane fly as it bumped into the lampshade and continued on its path

-> "lev, you big baby," you giggled, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap it

-> "y/n, don't leave me alone with it!" he yelped, and you rolled your eyes at his antics

-> you came back, smoothly capturing the insect and throwing it out of a nearby window

-> lev was sat on your couch the whole time, hands covering his eyes as he curled in a ball

-> "is it gone?" he asked, and you you giggled at how childlike he was acting at the moment

-> "it's all good, baby" you smoothed his hair and lev gratefully leaned into your touch, a sigh of relief leaving him

-> "thank you, y/n"

-> "i'll get rid of all the bugs in the world for you, lev"

❍ MIYA ATSUMU

-> gives off the vibes that he used to eat bugs as a child i'm sorry but

-> have mercy on his soul lmao

-> so twins are supposed to be identical right?

-> anyone who spends more than a few minutes around the miya twins know that that's a complete fucking lie

-> and you've had the misfortune of being friends with them for a very long time

-> like your mums were friends and you were all born around the same time

-> you've been pulled into their shit before you could walk or talk

-> so you're well aware of just how different these mfs are

-> even though they were both absolute bastards, osamu always had a slightly more mellowed out approach which would always end up with atsumu getting the blame for what they got up to

-> especially as a child, osamu loved to terrorise his twin with the unwilling help of you

-> one of the ways was through osamu exploiting one of his twins' fears

-> that being bugs and spiders

-> he always cackled at the sight of atsumu screaming and trying to run away from him due to the spider he was holding

-> as they both grew up, this became less of a frequent thing for osamu to do

-> you also somehow started dating atsumu, but nobody could exactly pinpoint a moment that signified a beginning to your relationship

-> but since you're dating the world's biggest manchild in disguise, and osamu gets annoyed with atsumu quite easily, you would have to swoop in to rescue him from time to time

-> recently the twins had been getting a little snappy with each other, and it had yet to sort itself out

-> from what you had heard your boyfriend was in the wrong this time, but you still listened to him whine and rant about it

-> you were going to the inarizaki school gym to say hi to your boyfriend and best friend before practice started, only to see absolute chaos unfolding

-> with kita yet to arrive, the twins were effectively unleashed and that much was clear with the way atsumu was practically screaming his head off as he ran around the gym

-> your eyes took in the rest of the players- aran had his head in his hands, suna was snickering with his phone out to record the newest miya twin fight, and osamu's deranged laugh could be heard above everything else as he chased his brother, hand held out in front of him

-> only one thing was capable of making atsumu scream like that, so you already knew what was happening

-> atsumu quickly spotted you hovering in the doorway, and made a beeline to where you were

-> his eyes were panicked, and you were quick to wrap him in a hug as you shot osamu a nasty glare over his shoulder

-> literally this lmfao

-> "that's enough, 'samu"

-> your best friend paused, before a smile spread across his face as he dangled the centipede in front of him

-> "you know it was rubber, right?"

-> you felt your boyfriend tense in your arms and you bit your lip to stifle a small giggle

-> but at least they would be back to normal by the end of today

back to the menu - ,, 🕷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 7

A/N- I'm back! At least I think I am 😂 I wrote this while I was struggling with writer's block so I don't think it's great but the next chapter I'm working on I feel back to the old me 🥳🤞

Summary- Are your lies finally going to catch up to you?

Word count- 2.8K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader x Liam Hems

Warnings- Mature themes, cheating, swearing, smut

Strictly 18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 2nd Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

The Destructive Secret Masterlist <

The guy turned to leave before looking back over his shoulder at the door, his hand on the door handle.

"If it makes any difference I would choose you over your brother any day." He winked as he left the room.

"What the actual fuck." You shout, storming out of the bathroom in a huff. "There's no way he's gunna stay quiet, it'll be all over the press come tomorrow." You paced the room, your heart beating fast as the adrenaline rushed through you. This was it, this was how it was all going to end. Liam would know as soon as he saw the headlines, all those late night and weekend conferences at the same time as Chris was conveniently away with work.

"To be fair, he does have good taste in men." Chris' usual nonchalance annoyed you, how come he could stay so calm? Why did he make you sound like a crazy person for actually worrying about what might happen.

"It's really not funny Chris, do you want our business known by strangers before we even have chance to speak to Liam and your Mom Chris, she's going to hate me." You feel the warm tears dripping down your cheeks before you even register you're crying. The thought of their mom hating you upsets you more than the thought of Liam hating you. Cathy, their mom was like your own mother, from day one she'd taken you under her wing.

"My Mom would love you no matter what, you know she thinks of you as her own daughter. It's me she's going to blame, Liam's her baby." 

"Yeah you're probably right but still what are we gunna do?" 

"Let's relax babe, you don't know what's going to happen and you can't change it if it does happen so what's the use in worrying about it. Come here."

"You piss me off Chris, you're so laid back. This isn't something you can just sweep under the carpet. It's serious." You needed to take your anger out on him, to let it all out so you could feel better. The four walls of the hotel room were becoming claustrophobic, you wish you could just put your headphones on and just run for a while to clear your head, that's what you usually did.

"I know it is but what can we do? I've done everything we can do, now it's out of our hands. We'll work it out tomorrow, can we enjoy our last night together without all the serious talk?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that sweet, goofy smile of his that has your heart melting.

"You piss me off even more when you look at me like that. I can't stay mad at you and how could I say no to that?" You put your arms around his back, loving the way his height makes you feel so small and safe. He wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and holding you close.

"That's why I love you yanno." 

"Why?" You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your neck stretching to reach his height.

"Because you never say no." He laughs, a real laugh that you can feel on his toned stomach, shaking against you. It was the best feeling hearing him laugh like that, it'd been so long since you'd heard him laugh. Your life being full of a lot of drama and upset recently that you were appreciative of the little time you had left together.

"Maybe I should start then." You pout pretending to sulk.

"No way, I love how easy you are." He picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, looking down on him for once. You punch him lightly on his shoulder, still pouting. "Ok, ok I'll stop teasing. You know why I love you though." 

"Tell me." 

He sits down on the end of the bed with you still in his arms, resting on his great big, thick thighs. He moves your hair behind your ears so he can see your face, studying it carefully with a look of adoration in his eyes.

"I love you because you're absolutely drop dead gorgeous, I mean the first time I met you, you literally knocked the air from my lungs. I've been obsessed with you ever since." He shuffles slightly beneath you, getting himself comfy. "This would never have happened with just anyone, I'm not a dick that goes around sleeping with his brothers girls." You give him a questioning look, your eyebrows furrowing. "Seriously, it took fucking everything in me to try and resist you. I'd never felt that before, never been one of them that wants what they can't have. Until I met you. Fuck me you were an absolute bombshell." You frown at him. "Are, still are a bombshell, don't look at me like that." He laughs.

"Tell me more." You whisper, feeling yourself tear up at his revelations as you run your hand through his hair, his eyes closing as you do.

"Am I stroking your ego?" He smiles slyly. "Do you remember the first time you met me?" 

"Of course I do, me and Liam had already been together a year but you'd been in Australia. I was eighteen, young and dumb..."

"And full of..." 

"Do not even finish that sentence, you're ruining the moment." He laughs at you but quickly gets back to being serious.

"You were eighteen and ridiculously mature for your age, I was twenty six and still acted like a teenager. I remember you walking in in that little denim skirt and tank top, smiling at me with that beautiful smile. The first thing I noticed was your eyes, the way they lit up when you smiled. You had me right at that moment, I was smitten. Then you introduced yourself as Liam's girlfriend and my heart sank." 

"I can't believe you remembered what i was wearing, it was twelve years ago." You kiss his forehead, holding his face in your hands. So glad you had the opportunity to talk like this, knowing all this made you know you hadn't made a mistake. "I was so nervous walking up to you, I'd only ever seen you on photos and crushing on you when you were in home and away. Then you're there in front of me looking sexy as hell and I knew I had to make a good impression."

"Little did you know, five years later I'd be bending you over that table and giving you everything you'd been searching for?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk.

"No, dick! Little did I know you'd sweep me off my feet and make me question everything I ever knew." 

"I am a dick but that's why you love me isn't it?"

"Your ego definitely doesn't need stroking. I fell in love with Liam when I was still a girl and I fell in love with you when I was a woman. People change, needs change and..." 

"And I give you everything you need." His hand travelled to your ass pulling you into him, pressing against his growing erection.

"You do, you need to work on your arrogance though." You laugh. "But seriously I'm done with all this now, we can't go on like this anymore. I want all of you, all of the time."

"So you've made your decision." His lips part, his head resting against your forehead.

"Was there ever any doubt?" You question, running your finger over his lip and grinding against him subtly making him groan.

"Fuck Y/N, I fucking love you so much it's crazy." He says through gritted teeth, holding the small of your back as you raise your hips, your face contorting with need. "What would you do if I asked you to marry me?" His hand travelled down the back of your shorts, cupping your ass in his hands.

"What do you think?" You tease, taking his bottom lip in your teeth and pulling gently.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking." His face was set seriously, he wasn't joking, he wanted to marry you.

"Of course I'd say yes, once we'd dealt with everything." You smile watching his face light up.

"You're going to be Mrs Hemsworth and mine, not Liam's. I can't fucking wait." He picks you up, gripping your ass making you squeel before planting you back on the bed on your back.

Leaning over you, his palm caressing your stomach, kneeding your breasts with his long fingers. His erection poking into your clothed heat.

"You're so fucking perfect, are you ready to cause destruction?" 

"Like now, in bed or?..." 

"You know what I mean." He laughs, reaching down to attach his lips to your neck, sucking gently.

"If it means I get you then yeah, I'm ready." 

"Right answer. You've made me the happiest fucking man in the world yanno?" His hand moves under your top, pushing it up to your chin as his lips finally meet yours. Kissing you deeply with everything he's got, your body rising from the bed to meet his.

"I think... I can... Make you even happier." You say between kisses, pushing down his boxers, your nails scratching his skin gently as you do. 

He rests on one elbow watching you free his cock from its barrier. You cup his balls in your hand, stroking along the length of his cock with the other. He groans, pushing himself into your hands.

"I'll be happier once I'm buried inside this perfect pussy." He kneels between your legs, pulling your panties off before hovering back over you.

"Go slow baby, I want to feel everything." You whisper.

"Fuck, I can't guarantee how long I'll last." He moans, lining himself up and slipping in making you both moan as his cock stretches your walls perfectly.

He rests on his elbows, holding your face in his hands as he gently thrusts into you, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him in further, deeper. Hitting your spot with the curl of his hips, agonisingly slowly. You look into each others eyes, his forehead resting against yours. Tears in your eyes from the intense intamacy.

"I love you Y/N." He declares gruffly, his voice deep with lust.

"I love you too." You whimper.

Moaning everytime his thighs connected with yours, flesh slapping together, bringing your hips up to meet him. Him grunting with every thrust, your sex noises filling the otherwise silent room. The sound like a symphony to your ears, turning you on even more to hear his exclamations of ecstacy.

"It's always been you Chris." You whisper, making his pace become sloppy, losing his composure and restraint at your words. You can see it on his face as it twists, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Come for me baby." He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his body goes rigid.

"Ah fuck." He brings you over the edge with the last of his powerful thrusts, your legs shaking around him, the feeling of satisfaction melting through your body simultaneously. A proud look on his face as you both come together and he falls limply onto your sweat laced body.

You stay like that for a while, both enjoying the moment, his cock still twitching inside of you. The heaviness of his body burying you into the mattress but you don't complain.

You don't want him to move, you want to memorise the feel of his heaviness and how his cock feels inside of you. How his rough face feels against your smooth skin, his hair tickling under your chin. You trace the muscles on his back, the defined shoulders and lean waist. Your hands gripping his tight, round ass and you close your eyes, remembering every dip and ripple, dreading the thought of being without him in your arms for at least another couple of weeks.

"I don't know how I'm going to watch you walk away tomorrow." He rolls on to his side, pulling you into him. "I think that's the hardest thing to deal with out of everything."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers brushing against his tight pecs. "You know we've been doing this for nearly 6 years now and I don't think I've ever felt as close to you as I do now. It's going to be even harder for me to leave this time." 

"I don't even want to think about it but we only have hours left together, what's our plan?" 

"You mean when and how do we tell Liam?" You ask sitting cross legged in the bed, reality kicking back in. You have to go home to Liam and leave Chris all over again, back to the lies and sneaking about.

"That and when am I going to be able to see you again? I don't want to wait as long as last time, you know how crazy i start getting when I don't see you." 

"We've got your cousin's wedding next week. I'll see you there." You risk a glance at him, pain set on his face.

"You'll see me but you'll be arm in arm with Liam and I'll be alone again." 

"How about once the weddings over and done with, we can tell Liam about us?" You watch his face change, like a little boy.

"A week? I can do that, I think. But I'm not going to the wedding alone." 

"What do you mean? A date? With who?" Panic laced in your voice.

"I don't know but I'm sure I won't be short of options." 

"Are you fucking with me? Liam thinks you're dating a married woman, where you going to find one of those?" 

"I don't know but I'm not turning up to a family party on my own again, my aunties can be fucking brutal." 

"Well don't expect to playing all happy families and me being all nice." You sulk.

"Are you jealous?" 

"Yeah, duhh."

"Come here." He pulls you into arms wrapping his legs around yours. Comfortable silence drifting over you both as he strokes your hair and you fall asleep in his arms.

***********

You wake up in the morning smiling, then remembering what day it is and that you have to leave to go back to boring reality and your smile fades. Chris stirring beside you, his muscly arm resting over your stomach, locking you in place.

"Chris, wake up." You whisper in his ear, admiring his sleepy, perfect face. "It's 9.30 we've gotta check out at 10." He makes an unrecognisable sound of exasperation, his eyes opening, puffy with sleep or lack of in this case.

"Aww man, can't we just stay in bed a little longer, I don't wanna let you go." 

"You need to go check out first so we don't leave the hotel at the same time." 

"Fuck sake. Back to reality it is then." He says all hint of jokiness gone from his tone as he sits up and rubs his eyes. 

"I'm afraid so, I need to go grab my things. Text me when you've left please." 

"Wow! I feel used, do I not even get a kiss before you run out on me?" 

"I was just dealing with the business before I dealt with the pleasure, like I'd just leave without giving you a kiss." You threw yourself on him, wrapping your legs around him as he leant against the headboard. Taking his lips in yours, open mouthed kisses that left you both breathless.

*****

You packed up the couple of things you'd actually taken out of your pull along suitcase, you'd spent most of the weekend naked or slobbing about in Chris' t-shirts so all your clothes were still folded and packed.

You were anxious about going home to Liam and having to pretend again, having to try and not slip up about where you'd actually been. You literally had to go through possible conversations in your mind, conjuring up imagined answers to Liam's possible questions so you didn't get caught out. It was hard work.

Then you got the text from Chris telling you he was out of the hotel and on the road back home, followed by how much of a good weekend he'd had and how much he loves you.

You couldn't help having a spring to your step as you walked through the lobby, a weekend full of love making and reminiscing would have that effect on anyone.

After you'd checked out, the anxiety set in, like stepping out of this hotel would be like stepping in to an alternate universe. A universe that wasn't simple and easy like it had been this weekend but stepping through those revolving doors would mean that will all end. This safe feeling of being alone, away from prying eyes would end as soon as you stepped foot outside and it did, a ominous feeling sweeping over you, goosebumps covering your flesh. Maybe you conjured up the feeling in your own mind, manifesting it into existence but you couldn't shake it.

A feeling of being watched, was it your imagination or not? You didn't know, all you knew was how much you wanted to get out of public and back home. As you stood in front of the hotel, picking up your suitcase to carry it down the stairs, something caught your eye. A flash. And then another flash coming from your peripheral.

[starkeristheendgame]

maybe unrequited!peter jerking off in tony's lab while he isn't there. esp knowing tony has cameras, security etc (ty if ur up for it!)

Okay, so I had to message you to figure out the unrequited bit, but: Here we go! I hope that you like it and that I did it justice! Thank you so much ❤️ This is literally shameless voyeurism and smut. I have literally no excuse except for the fact it was requested. 

TW/Tags: (Not) unrequited love | voyeurism | Under-negotiated sexual content

People liked to joke about Tony Stark’s lack of impulse control; about his knack for bad decisions or spur-of-the-moment acts. It was funny. It was a thing. Tony could show up one day with a gold-coated camel or something and people would just roll their eyes and go ‘there he goes again’. 

Peter? Peter was a kid. Easily excusable. He tried his best to think things through and to be the responsible adult he was trying to convince everyone else he was. And he felt he did a good job. Sure, here and there he might have fucked up a little or jumped into action when he ought to have stepped back and thought a little more. 

But if anything, people put those moments down to one of two things: ‘Oh, he’s just a kid. They do that.’‘Too much time around Tony, that’s what that is. Taking after his mentor.’

Tony could not, at all, be blamed for this. Nor, really, could the fact that he was younger. Not when ‘this’ was being splayed on Tony’s main workbench, head thrown back, legs apart like a whore, one hand shoved down into his boxers. Really, it couldn’t be blamed on anything except Peter and Peter’s desperate love and need for Tony. 

“F-Fuck. Bad idea. This is a bad idea,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut as he ran his thumb slowly over the slit of his cock, thighs trembling. The pleasure was a low, slow burn in his gut. He hadn’t been touching himself long. Hadn’t meant to be touching himself at all. 

It was the videos that had done it, and the suits. God, the suits. Tall and imposing, lending Tony bulk and strength enough to compete with Peter’s abilities. And that was not to disregard the formal Tom Ford’s and the Gucci two-pieces. The sharp lines and soft fabric that made Tony equally as imposing as the metal. 

“J-JARVIS. How long until Tony returns?” Peter whimpered, curling onto his side like he was wounded as his cock jerked in his grip, dribbling a glob of cum into the silk fabric of his boxers. Boxers that Tony had bought him not even a month ago, as part of a sleek suit for the 2019 World Trust Fund Gala. 

“Based upon my estimate, you have roughly two hours and thirteen minutes before Sir is likely to return.” JARVIS sounded prim, indifferent to the fact that Peter was touching himself. It made Peter glad for the fact that JARVIS was code, and not a real Butler. It would have been significantly more awkward to ask such a thing in his current state. 

He gave a jerky nod, rolling over onto his back and letting his hips rut up against his hand and forearm with a shaky groan. The scent of Tony’s aftershave was still lingering, mingled with oil and metal. The husk of his words as he told Peter he’d back soon, to stay as long as he liked. The squeeze of Tony’s hand on his hip. 

Peter knew it was just Tony. Knew that intimately taking a person apart and flirting and using body language was just coded into him at this point. That the brushed of his knuckles between Peter’s shoulders didn’t meant the same as when he did it to the attractive news caster at whatever world-saving event had happened then. 

“I should stop,” he mewled into his arm, slowing the rocky movements of his hips for all of four seconds. He should. He ought to. This was wrong. Jerking off over a man who saw him as a son. In his own workshop. 

“Fuck.”

It was a statement he repeated when he let his arm fall away, and found that he was staring straight up into one of the cameras that littered the space, designed to capture Tony’s movements and experiments and breakthroughs. The lens shifted minutely within the frame, focusing. Peter knew it was automated, but he still gasped, spine arching as pleasure stabbed between his thighs. 

He was being recorded. On camera, right now, was a digital copy of him, with his hand around his cock and his mentor’s name on his tongue. He lay trembling on the workbench, gaze fixed on the camera, hand still moving in tiny little twitches over his sensitive dick. 

Tony wouldn’t see it. Peter could scrub the footage the moment he was done. Tony wasn’t looking at the cameras, he was too busy schmoozing pretty ladies and promoting Stark Industries latest clean energy movement. 

But Peter could pretend. 

“S-So hard. Mr. Stark. Its so hard. I can’t help myself,” he murmured, feeling both aroused and stupid as he begun to fuck into his fist again, imagining that Tony was actually there. In the penthouse, perhaps. Cradling a neat whiskey, dark gaze on the camera screens. Watching him. 

“I - I want you to touch me, Mr. Stark. I need you to touch me. I’m not enough. Need your hands. Your mouth. Your c-cock,” Peter threw his head back on the last word, hips stuttering into his tight grip as his other reached down, shakily pulling part his belt and his jeans to squirm them down around his thighs, flushed skin lay bare for the camera. 

For the Tony in his mind. 

He lost the ability to speak for a short while, lost in the desperation of his fingers squeezing his pulsing cock, the dripping cum that soaked his hip and pooled on the bench below him. The clouded haze of pleasure. He was getting closer. He felt so dirty, so wrong, and yet…

“Feels so good. Thinking about you. You watching me. Not as good as you being here. But good. M’gonna - Fucking myself to the thought of you, Mr. Stark. Though you should be fucking me. Right now. B-Buried so deep,” he cried into his forearm, whole body ignited with desire, pleasure. 

He was so close. He could feel his cock getting even harder, could feel his thighs burning with the effort of not cumming, the hot slide of pleasure through his veins. “G-Gonna cum, Mr. Stark. All over myself. All over your workspace. That’d be naughty of me,” he muttered, gaze locked on the camera, thumb digging into the slit. 

He was about to cum. About to fall into the crescendo of pleasure, to submit to the vision of Tony’s hands all over him, his voice low in his ear, his cock balls-deep. He almost snapped himself in half when the Mark L powered up on the opposite wall, eyes igniting a glacial blue, head turning an inch to focus on him. 

He scrambled onto his elbows, knees drawing towards his stomach with a yell as the suit took a slow, calculated step off its podium, like it was testing the ability to walk. And then it begun to stride towards him with purpose, thunk-thunk-thunk on the workshop floor. Peter tried to scramble further across the space, but the suit was faster. 

It caught him by the ankle, indifferent and emotionless as it dragged him half-naked and still hard down the bench, other hand reaching to find his shoulder. He let out a terrified cry as it flipped him, careful and quick. 

On his stomach it dragged him closer, until he slid mostly off the bench, folded over the edge of it and cock trapped painfully between the edge and his hip. 

“JARVIS! What the- Help me!” he cried, but the room around him remained silent as the Mark L grasped his wrists tightly and stepped closer, until it pinned him there. In such a position he couldn’t gather himself enough to break free, writhing like an angry snake in its grasp, spitting a variety of terrified pleas and creative curses. 

He didn’t even hear the workshop door open. Had fallen limp and exhausted in the suits grip, still half-hard. Knew nothing of his companion until the suit’s fingers flexed, until warm, living ones slid around the space they had held as they withdrew. 

Peter jerked in surprise when the cold, hard body was replaced by a warm one, soft fabric against the bare swell of his ass. 

“Y’know. Its mighty rude to jerk off in another man’s workshop. Especially without inviting him.”

Tony. 

But of course, who else could it be? 

Mortified, Peter twisted in the space Tony allowed him, looking wildly up into dark, calculating eyes that softened at the sight of him, grip loosening. “Oh, Peter. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scared you. I just wanted to stop you from finishing before I could get here.”

Peter’s brain short-circuited, a definitive blank space as he blinked wet eyes at Tony, trembling in his hold, hips tilted away to hide his shame. “Y-You… What?” he rasped, fingers flexing against the edge of the workbench. 

What kinda sick punishment was that? Cockblocked as well as whatever horrific intentions Tony had for him? 

“All those things you were saying, Peter. Drove me insane. You’re right. Fuck, we shouldn’t. But you’re right,” Tony breathed against his jaw, thumb stroking the inside of his wrist as he ducked down, pressed gentle kisses along Peter’s cheek and jaw, soothing. 

“You should stop me. But I really hope that you don’t. I couldn’t - Seeing you like that. Calling out my name while you touch yourself. In my space.”

“You’re not mad?” Peter managed weakly, limp in Tony’s hold, unable to compute anything beyond what was immediately happening. Tony’s lips on his skin, stubble scraping, his voice a rough thrum in Peter’s ear. 

“Mad? Sweetheart. Only thing I’m mad about is how guilty I know I’ll feel after this. But… I can’t help myself. I’m a glutton. I’m shameless. At least in the moment. God, kid. I’ll hate myself for this. But I’ll hate myself more if I don’t,” Tony rasped into his ear, fingers stroking along his arms, body inching closer until Tony’s hard cock was insistent against his ass, the scrape of fabric and zipper biting into his cheek. 

“Don’t - Don’t hate yourself. Please. Mr. Stark just…Touch me? Please. I need you to touch me.”

Tony obliged with the scrape of teeth against his jugular, hips grinding forwards gently, coaxing Peter into peeling himself from the edge of the table, to allow his poor dick some room to breathe. It ached, both from its entrapment and how dizzyingly hard he was. 

“No idea what you looked like, kiddo. When JARVIS said you were calling for me… Thought you’d hurt yourself or something. Damn near activated the suit there and then, sweetheart. When I saw you… What you were doing…” 

Tony trailed off, hand making a slow and sure path down his body, fingertips digging into his hip before finally, finally wrapping long fingers around his cock. 

Peter jerked in his grip, head tossing back and almost taking Tony out as he shook, biting hard on his lip to stave off the need to cum as Tony squeezed him gently, exploring. The tip of his thumb pressed against the sensitive underside of his tip and he mewled, ground back against Tony’s arched body. 

“You were watching me.”

“JARVIS told me you were in a ‘predicament’ and calling out my name. God, Peter. Thought you were in pain. Not pleasure. Staring straight up at the camera. Fuck; did you know? Were you asking?” Tony ground out, rough and debauched against his shoulder. 

“N-No. Thought… Was fantasising. Pretending. I didn’t know,” Peter answered honestly, shaky and high. Tony stroked him harder, rougher, hips steady against the backs of Peter’s thighs as they ground together. Tony cooed softly at him, moved a hand to pet at his hair gently, to wipe under his eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to show you the real thing. It’s so much better.”

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

@pilferingapples brought to my attention the fact that I never made a masterlist for the submissions for this challenge back in May, so I'm remedying this egregious error now.

The prompt was, "I'm afraid you're going to have to carry me."

(This was not a competition nor judged in any way; these are simply in order of submission to the challenge.)

[[MORE]]

[[MORE]]

The Five Stages by PiecesofCait ( @thepiecesofcait )

Turns out grief isn't the only g-word that takes a bit to process.

Tell Me Why by ShitpostingFromTheBarricade ( @shitpostingfromthebarricade )

Enjolras finds a list that he was never meant to.

Warnings: language, scalding take on (and spoilers for) The Breakfast Club

Seating Arrangements by AnnaBolena ( @annabrolena )

“Enjolras has decided to take drinks with us in celebration tonight!” Bahorel’s voice booms across the room. One of his hulking arms is wrapped securely around the girl tending to him, the other is raised in victory.

“Lest Bahorel give anyone a false impression: Enjolras was persuaded with great industry to take a single cup, that is all. No need to make a spectacle of it,” Feuilly placates those already cheering, though no one's joy is truly tempered by the revelation.

a.k.a. Enjolras celebrates with his friends :)

Images in Red by OpensUp4Nobody ( @opens-up-4-nobody )

Enjolras is a grad student having a bad time.

Drink to Forget by whowillbestrongandstandwithme ( @whowillbestrongandstandwithme )

Grantaire finds Enjolras, alone and drunk, after a meeting. He takes Enjolras home and tries to prevent him from saying anything he'll regret- but then Enjolras shares a secret that he has kept even from Combeferre. Somehow this night brings them closer together. The two realize they aren't so different after all.

non-asleep things by Rhyolite ( @rhyolight )

The city wasn’t asleep. It never was, really, at any hour of the night a carriage might rumble past, or a loud and happy group of people might pass under one’s window, talking loudly, or any of other (usually loud) non-asleep things.

Enjolras was also not asleep.

Against All Odds by BookDragon6127

Enjolras is too stubborn for his own good and Grantaire is the one who needs to make sure the leader in red doesn't accidentally kill himself in the name of the revolution

The Way of Fools by temperamental_mistress

“The way of fools seems right to them, but the wise listen to advice.” (Proverbs 12:15)

Carry Your Beliefs by kjack89 (@kjack89 )

Alternatively titled, Grantaire and the parable of the toad.

But the toad did not speak, and in fact did not move, still crouched against the stone.

Grantaire gaped at the small creature, who didn’t seem at all concerned that it had somehow spoken, and he shook his head slowly. “Too much wine,” he muttered. “Joly warned me this might happen one day, but I must confess, I did not believe that a wine dream would manifest as—”

He waved a vague hand at the toad, which just stared back at him, unimpressed.

About the bothersome discrepancy between word and deed by Gr_malk_n ( @theravensgrin )

In which there is pining, painting, smoking, a lack of clear communication and headaches for everyone, but especially for Combeferre.

Oh, and they try to save a community centre.

Finally, I Understand by edgy_fluffball ( @edgy-fluffball )

After a rally gone wrong it is Grantaire who sees himself having to take on more responsibility than he ever planned having. Unfortunately, that means dealing with both Courfeyrac and Enjolras.

I am Wilderness and Waves by mariuspondmercy ( @mariuspondmercy )

Musichetta is the captain of her own ship, master of pirate crews sailing the seven seas for her own agenda - wilderness and the oceans were her home.

Join her and her lovers on a journey through the Seven Seas.

Carry Me by HMS_Chill ( @hms-chill )

The silence wakes Grantaire after the barricade has fallen, but he's not going down without a fight.

(Based on this post from @g-hostly-g on tumblr)

Theatrical Tragedy by BadassIndustries ( @badassindistress )

Courfeyrac grinned happily. His dearest friends, come together in celebration of him, getting together harmoniously and all nicely dressed, if a bit sombrely. Enjolras had even submitted to having his cravat retied and Marius at last accepted the gift of an old waistcoat. Combeferre looked as neat as ever and had not mentioned cadavers or unsightly diseases even once. To top it all off, Courfeyrac’s curls were behaving admirably and his hat had graciously consented to stay with him for a fortnight already. After the performance, those of his friends more inclined to dance were to meet him at a public ball and altogether this would make a perfect night.

like real people do by bleulily ( @eponinearchive )

“So what’s the plan?” Grantaire asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He placed a hand on Enjolras’s arm, warm and gentle against Enjolras’s skin.

Enjolras gave his phone a last glance before turning his attention to the hand Grantaire had placed against his arm. He realised Grantaire was covering him from the guides in case they turned back to see them. Enjolras smiled. “We have to pretend to be dating whenever we’re near them,” Enjolras explained. “You know, do those cheesy things Marius does whenever he has a new fancy. I don’t want to disappoint my mother or ruin your night.”

Grantaire regarded him, his head tilting to the side as an eyebrow quirked curiously, his lips turning upwards into a sly smile. “So you think Pontmercy is the model of excellence for a healthy and romantic relationship?”

Things that go bumping in the night by adorablecrab ( @adorablecrab )

The wise thing to do would be to silently lock the door and hope whoever was outside wasn’t too determined to get in. Possibly escape through the window...

Will the World Remember You if You Fall? by pirates_and_candles

Courfeyrac realizes that he loves Jehan. The only problem is that Jehan is in love with Montparnasse and there's a revolution coming...

Flowers in my lungs by decayingliberty ( @decayingliberty )

There are flowers growing in Courfeyrac's chest and he can't breathe.

For Want of a Book by WilwyWaylan ( @wilwywaylan )

Bahorel needs a book from the library. Bahorel certainly does not need to see Feuilly. Sadly, it seems that you can find way more redheads than the book you need in that library...

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Brittany and I special designed Alex's hair cut...

So if he didn't like being my old man like how John Force was her old man we would just shave that silver ring off his head in a reverse Bozo the clown.

He said he was my old man and had no plans for gray hair and we asked him could we design his future hair colors and he said "Sure! If you want me to shave it all off!!"

Erica said she didn't even know what Bozo the Clown meant. So she was gonna go ask someone old that had t.v. as a kid.

-.-

He said he didn't really want gray

But i said "But I and Brittany wanna have old men together when we grow old. Little girls with dirty old men"

"Yeah sure, i don't care. but! You better love me for it!"

Well here he is. The Reverse Bozo. My Old Man.

What happens in Compton stays in Compton!

Steven Torrance says "so that's why I'm bald!!" So we only did hair and eye to ear wrinkles because i knew i would be away from Alex a lot so if I was then i would know he was fake smiling through his tears. But i would make a tight pocket under his eye lid so when he laughed until he cried it would erase the wrinkle. That was mine.

Some girls went with saggy balls to get that skin all wrapped up right for a hermaphrodite session when a girl strapped on a strap on and rode her man like a donkey in the balls. Bull was a student teacher for awhile... We had all kinds of CIA In and out. None left without teaching at least 1 hour per week in class. Ben would fill the class to its brim. Barely room to stand and all the 'adults' and kids were eyes glued on him.

Ben had grown overnight it seemed and he hit the streets so he would come back and teach us. It was amazing. Half the time i couldn't even hear him. Just watching him tell his tales of roping cattle and the thoughts that would pop into his head. One day just literally a few short months ago he was knee high to a grass hopper. Asking but whining. He was one of my worst students for being a baby. But here he is. Grown so much i thought he was a man I didn't knew. They had to tell me "this is Ben! Little Ben! Always yelling at you about them records. Hi? Hello? This is Ben"

So confused i would stick out my hand for a handshake, "hi hello this is Ben. Im the teacher here st this school, would you like to come in?"

Every one would laugh especially at my high pitched odd ball voice my throat was making. It was then it was the student I was afraid for. I had mainly taught him indoors. Could he even run? Shoot a gun? How in the world was he ever going to live out there on his own? So we had outdoor Olympia.

Alex said he was real proud of me. I was really like one of those old Laura Ingalls Wilder books. I still hadn't changed since back then when we test ran moving North and out west was as safe as we thought. Too busy to watch them outside to play, trusting they were smart enough. Then suddenly panicking once they had all grown too big for one room.

÷÷÷÷÷ divided we stand. United we fall.

I told the girls I liked Cooke best. He was Bozo's slave.

They asked why then have him a reverse Bozo haircut if Cooke was already bald?

"Because Bozo is a bad man. And so Cooke would always train him to be better and you could tell just by watching the show. Bozo was out of control and annoying, too. But I always watched it to make sure Cooke was safe. And sometimes he wasn't so i would make a call on a pretend phone and call in, this is what i would say "Calling into to Collect Cooke, Bozo is unsafe." Just in case Bozo over heard then he would think i cared about him, too.

But i don't. Just about Cooke. I can't care about someone who can't care about themselves.

That is why it is a reverse Bozo, honey. Cause I'd never let my man look the fool. Because he isn't. Just different than everyone else.

So Erica warned Steven Torrance "i don't know who Cooke is. But i heard he is good so I want your hair to grow like his"

Unfortunately he saw a photo and he cried and cried and cried. Finally he told her "fine you do this to me and every photo you take you have to be looking at me. Even If you're alone!!"

It was a punishment because she got anxious and demanded instead of asking and explaining and wanting to hear the rest of my story than to comfort him. She said that's how i do it to Alex.

Except me and Alex are different. We talk about it later. "Well i don't mind. I'll just be a little cross eyed and it is less silly than being bald and way more romantic because it shows i care! We just do things a little more exaggerant than y'all guys do. We show emotions. He was crying because he's happy i am quite sure. Just as you do it"

What is funny is her eye is crossed so he's always looking at her. So when they take a bald photo he's always asking her for a kiss or trying to kiss on her and hug and she tries to push him away. That was the deal.

But they don't photo together. I said "sometimes things are real honey and i would love to use that as a self defense so that people could understand kissing isn't always wanted. But i think I will have something worse to point at. Lets lay down and look at the stars and we can talk some more" in 15 minutes we were all asleep in the grass. I could hear giggling every so often and would go back to my own mind. And i woke myself up laughing seriously silly.

"What's going on? Come here look" Alex said

We had all been curled into the fetal position under the moon and every few seconds each of the girls would laugh hysterically inside themselves it seeping into their vocal cords, and burst with joy on the outside.

So when we get married in Compton. Our hair will not change!! And that was when we all laughed but the other girls would say again and again! So we have to go on this cruise ship with horrible hair! Not knowing what the other had did to it!! Happy Honeymoon to us!!

I love you Reverse Bozo!!!

[punkscowardschampions]

Jimmy & Janis

Poor Pablo

Jimmy: You here? Janis: standing to attention, like Janis: what's up? Jimmy: Can I stay at yours tonight like? Janis: 'Course, my Dad already extended the offer when he was trying to parent me lol Janis: Yours doing your head in? Jimmy: Seriously though? I'll sleep in the bath and try not to have Skerries flashbacks. Give a shit Jimmy: Yeah Janis: You don't have to Janis: though I've been told its comfier than you'd imagine if you're feeling it Janis: What's his damage...not ideal they had to call the parentals in but it is just detention, not a court date, y'know? Janis: I'd have figured out a way to take all the blame if I knew he'd go off Janis: Wank bank fantasy getting outta hand in the stalls? 🤔😉 Jimmy: It's an excuse for him to get at me, that's it Jimmy: Doesn't really matter what the drama is Jimmy: 😍 Proper romantic you 💕 Janis: Yeah Janis: Suppose it'd make a nice change to have you as the bad guy for once, eh? Janis: fuck that though Janis: Who me? Janis: never Jimmy: What d'you mean 😎👎💔 Jimmy: I'm so bad Janis: Very bad boy, NOT bad guy, waaaaaay different vibe Janis: Silly Jimmy: Good save Janis: Not a goalie or a superhero Janis: but Janis: 💪 Jimmy: 🏆 Jimmy: What time can I come over? Freezing here casually Janis: Come over now idiot Janis: Be doing me a favour anyway, be your charming self so I can escape the fam Jimmy: Done Jimmy: Want me to bring you anything? I'm thinking chips but no pressure Janis: Quite the offer Janis: but no need Janis: there's always so much food going in this gaff Janis: may as well help yourself Jimmy: Yeah? Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: I'm just gonna get Cass to bring me some stuff out #doorstepdrama Jimmy: Like fuck am I gonna come back here any earlier than needs Janis: That's fun 😒 free entertainment for the neighbours, nice one 👍 Janis: at least Cass'll get a kick out of helping the outcast hero Janis: Best to let him have his paddy, yeah, he'll be begging you back when he can't figure out where the kid's school shoes are Jimmy: I wouldn't bother but I need my charger in case Bobby can't sleep. Cass shouldn't have to handle that on her own Jimmy: She's be the definition of #buzzing for this part at least Jimmy: Maybe Twix'll shit in his shoes this time, 'cause bitch be loyal Janis: Shame you can't bring them both but kidnap would technically be something to shout about Janis: They'll be alright though, she's a tough cookie and a smart kid Janis: Get Grace to facetime him a bedtime story, he'd love that and she'd feel like she's doing jackanory, like Janis: We can only hope girl comes thru Jimmy: He'll take her up on that if I don't. Boy is 💕 for Gracie Jimmy: You're not about to get off light though, Cass wants to hear from you that I'm alright Jimmy: My word isn't worth a damn apparently Janis: She ain't offering for you! Even if you're currently in her good books for taking a 🔥 photo, like Janis: Still not good enough to be her fave 🤷 Janis: Tough ground Janis: Well, she's got you there, you're not the best at using 'em 😏 100% taking the fact I'm being considered the reliable one for once Jimmy: You win this round Jimmy: Don't get too comfy with it though Jimmy: I am on my way Janis: S'lonely at the top Janis: Get on my level, boy 🥇 Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: rude Janis: biting the hand that feeds Jimmy: Learning from your true love like Janis: I won't stand such slander on her good name Janis: she's a revenge shitter only not a biter 😂 Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: I'm having a smoke, you joining me or am I coming knocking? Janis: Lungs won't thank me but Pablo would if he knew how close he was to getting a smackdown Janis: Save me some I'm running Jimmy: *He took it easy on this one (not for her sake, you snooze you lose, mate) having been puffing away consistently since he slammed the door on his dad's ranting 'cause he'd needed to calm down. Or shut down. Naturally, it crept up on him, as persistent, which is why he's here, huddled in another cold doorway, waiting for a distraction that'll have him forgetting the barney his dad started days before and wasn't done with yet. Argumentative prick. Jimmy was happy to let Janis have that win, the only where he wouldn't (and couldn't) compete being in this, in drowning out the shit with something that isn't. There's no hiding the smile when he sees her, if the shadows do let him get away with it, they won't for long 'cause he's closing the gap between them instantly, refusing as much of the space as he can without giving himself away for doing it as he passes the cigarette over.* Janis: *She takes the cigarette like its second-nature, kiss on his cheek, feeling the familiar dimple of his smile, like they are too. Far from it on both counts. She's not a smoker, she needs her lungs clear and strong. And she's not in love, same reasons for her heart. Simple as. Still, she could enjoy the benefits of both without committing, couldn't she? Why not. It's not like she's faking either, just...dipping her toes. Only likely to incur minor damage, she reckoned she could take that and still get away laughing. Sure. Long drag before passing it back because without needing to even look his way, (though she did regardless, studious expression taking in his tight, stressed as shit, posture right now), she knew he needed it more. Janis jogs her legs up and down, 'brring' in the cold Winter night air.* You alright then? *She adds, as if they're just meeting on her doorstep by chance, not for reason. She smirks, shaking her head at herself, nudging his side.* Jimmy: *With the cigarette back between his fingers and the girl by his side he gets what he needs, the familiarity a reminder that this is his normal, not what he rushed to leave behind. To pick up his girlfriend for dinner his dad will have to drop this, rely on moody silence to show how he really feels and his own fakery, in this woman's company, for what he thinks he should. They all know how to handle the first, years under their belts, and the second idea's even more temporary. Fuck it. Jimmy could make a single cigarette last longer than his dad's current relationships, and had done, sometimes. Not this one though. Nah. He wasn't the dickhead to keep his girlfriend shivering while he pissed about blowing smoke in the dark. He took a final drag before flicking it away to meet Janis's contact with his own, using his now free hand to gently brush a loose curl from her cheek.* Yeah, mate, you? Janis: *Janis scrunches her nose up, batting his hand away, mix of bashfulness and banter, blown with a raspberry. Turns out, sex is alright, stunning review there, indescribably better than alright obviously but- its the smaller, everyday moments of intimacy, that had flown under her radar when she wasn't receiving them, that she still finds herself flinching from, or covering up said flinch with some kind of bullshit she finds it easier to wear, to shoulder.* Fine. *She blurts out, flustered and being a little sharp with it. Get it together. More jokes, forever skirting around serious, not getting too real or too deep 'cos they both know there's no coming back and why ruin it and- She peers at him, like he's a dog in Crufts, pretending to shine a torn in his eyes, checking his teeth, that kinda shit.* Hmm, healthy enough specimen. Gonna give me anything else to give to your Sister though, like? Dunna if 'yeah' is gonna get her off the phone in a hurry, to be honest. Not that I give a shit, or nothin', don't get it twisted. *She grins, turning to the door and then back again, lingering, reluctant to open the door yet, knowing they'd get descended upon by someone almost immediately. All fun and games. Still, there wasn't a world in which she was gonna turn him down and have him out on the street, like. No way.* Jimmy: *He plays along as though it's still a game and why not? He's just admitted to himself how used to fakery he is, being a family trait like, with both of them for him to thank. Not that he's sparing a thought for his mum, first or second. Not now. He told himself no more slips with the girl beside him and meant that just as much. More. It's easier to stick to on every level, and he does, ruffling her hair fully when he gets the chance. Eyebrows raised and an expression of his own ready to wear. This, he can keep up all night, same as the exaggerated huff that he let's escape, like a Twix snore, into the night along with the shrug that follows.* Use your skills, throw in as many hashtags as it takes to put her at ease. Throw in a selfie if she still isn't convinced. Me sleeping sound should do it. * He's joking but not wrong for it, not able to remember a time when he fell asleep before the other two. Cass'd be beyond 'shook' to even see a fake out of him getting a good forty winks. Jimmy smirks through the thought, forcing it to pass.* You got this, girl* He retorts it in the best mimicry of how Mia and that crowd speaks that his accent can do, wincing slightly both at the impression and idea of them being around. Still, he claws some of his 'clout' back with a challenging look that adds 'What else have you got.' 'cause who are they if there's not a challenge ongoing. As if to emphasis this, he goes towards the door himself, pushing it open with more daring than he actually feels. * Gonna invite me in then, or what? Janis: *She kisses her teeth angrily, full on 'boy, if you don't stop-' vibes, planting a balled fist in his stomach, gentle warning like, no need to assault him before the family saw to it with their over-the-top nature and curiosity. She knew it would but it was getting to her more than she imagined even. The cooing and awwing or the piss-taking and wink-wink nudge-nude of it all, whatever approach they took, why did they have to? What business was it of theirs? Of anyones? Why did there always have to be a song and dance about everything? The hot takes she'd never ask for. Ruined everything. Why did they care? About this? About her? Just fuck right off. Messy. Too messy. Family, feelings- fuck it all. She used to kid herself, couple of years ago, when it happened, that she'd move out as soon as she could and that'd be it. They'd leave her alone. And she could just exist. Run, sleep and repeat. And that is all she'd have to do. No thinking or feeling ever. But she knew better now. They weren't just going to disappear, even if she changed postcodes. Even Edie couldn't manage that. And she had really tried. The others didn't want to. So she was stuck. Here in the land of the living. Forced to participate, like it or not. Then Jim had come along. Made her like it, a little bit, like. And he'd made her think maybe she could add to her shortlist of approved activities. But let her think about that for too long and she always came to the same conclusion; that she was a fucking idiot and it'd all end in tears. She sighed, overexaggerating it last minute to pretend it was in reply to his showy huffing and puffing.* Not my skill-set, kid. You were always better at it than me. Not just the snappin', like. Right up until you jumped ship for a pretty face, #commitment. *She laughs.* But for Cass, I'll see what I can do. *Cringing at the accent-attempt and gasping in mock-horror at the invocation of Mia and co. (as if say their names three times and they'll appear to tell you your outfit is ugly) she puts a finger to his lips, pushing him behind her at the same time so she can lead the way in too.* Ta-dah! *She flourishes, with a shrug to say 'you asked for this' 'cos there was no hiding now. The downstairs open-plan, parentals unconvincingly 'busying' themselves in the kitchen. Iggy, Diego, Gus and (thank fuck, 'cos we know who's the likeliest to be a prick here) Pablo so far unaccounted for, Grace watching telly, curled up with her phone as per. Janis was ready to bolt up to her room, not so much as a hello but reckoned Jimmy wouldn't want the rep of being her 'rude boyfriend' (as concerned as he was with opinion clearly, bless) so she shouts out 'Jim's here', eyes on the stairs, giving them five seconds to respond before she was up 'em, like.* Jimmy: *The house makes him feel the same as it did the first time he was here once he's through the door again, thankfully though the urge to whistle is muted today, full of sobriety as he is, in every sense. He knew her family weren't renters in over their heads like his from day 1, it isn't just that like. He isn't just some reverse snob, it's everything here they haven't had to buy, and he couldn't if he had armfuls of cash. The 'vibe' he'd probably call it if he was Grace or her crowd. Still, he nods at everyone about as if it's common place for him to him to be greeted by a warmth that's nowt to do with temperature.* Evening. *He's got his smile back on but Jimmy's hand is scratching the back of his neck before he can stop it giving him away and all he can do is 'reckon' on Janis being too caught up on her own family dynamics to call him out for his lack of. That's the real #goals, isn't it? He thinks to himself, trying to shake these feelings off him without moving. Or sighing. You massive dickhead. Grace waves at him without looking up from her phone screen, a slice of his home life #relatable enough he can follow her sister's gaze with a decent smirk and a readiness to deal with what's gonna come down. Need's must had him here in the first place, alright, but now he's made it as far as asking to be let in, he'd like to stay. Not only be a grumpy twat Janis is stuck with, but a laugh she wants to stay about. In her gaff and out of it. When nobody immediately appears he heads up himself, not forgetting her insistence to lead the way before, he looks over his shoulder at her, obvious with it that's there's nowt for her to do now but keep up.*  Unlucky, mate. You're not getting off that easy, we've got a whole night ahead. Janis: *Janis is holding herself rigid, eyes fixed as tight and strong on her parents letting them know in no uncertain terms to behave...and they did? Leaving it at cheery hellos and promises of dinner being done in about half an hour if they fancied it. Hm. First time for everything. Letting disbelief at their ability to be normal for once in their friggin' lives (where had this been all the other times she'd begged them/the universe for it?!) carry her up the stairs behind Jim. She let him flounder in the burrow-like corridors of upstairs, so different to the openness of the downstairs, that'll teach you to go ahead, boy, she thought with a smirk, now pushing in front with arms wide open.* Pick a door, any door! *She laughed, heading to her own before he actually did, not knowing who was in.* Welcome to my humble-abode... *She added, as they were over the threshold, kicking her gym bag, over-spilling with laundry, aside. She sat down on her unmade bed to assess, from outsiders, from his, eyes. Not here enough anymore that it was critically messy, that was good; old posters covering up old holes in the plaster from older anger, nothing cringe, thankfully but- It was a bit sad, to be honest...bare, lacking...anything, personality, life. She sighed. Red-faced from embarrassment and redder still from anger at feeling that embarrassment. She didn't care about herself, yeah. And what? And what is that her room said as much in no uncertain terms and having him see it was just- well. Shaming. Time for a joke.* If this setting don't get you in the mood, I don't know what will. Jimmy: *10 kids, he reminds himself, when he reaches the top and is met with an upstairs that belongs to a different house. That disconnect continues, growing, when Janis opens one of the doors in the maze. Hers. He's got no room to judge, none of his house looks lived in yet, as if Cass can protest having to by refusing to help unpack, knowing he doesn't have (or want to make, 'cause there's enough stuff in there for it to be boring, but then there's what's missing too, which is worse. Depressing.) the time to tackle the unopened box on his own after months. He isn't. Judging, that is. But he can't stop himself looking about, eyes focusing again on what there is, and isn't. What it means. And doesn't. Fuck. What a pair, they are like. Jimmy has to say something, silence will have her thinking all kinds of shit that isn't right. Least of all that he's a twat. Which, sort of is. He's equipped to be that though, which is something. He can easily grin at her, fall into simple, old habits. Banter by numbers that'll be #nodrama for her to throw back at him. 'Cause whatever his dad might think right now, he's not the dickhead trying to make everything harder. Why would he? The day to day shit already has that covered. So he aims his biggest 'heart eyes' at her, from the earliest days of their fakery, hiding any real expression in the over-the-topness of it all, for her as much as him (he tells himself, without needing much convincing with the blush spotted. It isn't thanks his charms, they both know. But in a second they can pretend it's his cringe factor.)* Only got eyes for you, babe. We could be anywhere. *Still, even as he's mocking himself with mimicking throwing up in his mouth, before she can, naturally, passed that, somewhere real he's deciding that should she suggest getting out of here to elsewhere tonight he's not about to fight it. Wherever they end up. #nocringe. It'd be too much of a lie to act like asking to come here was too much and everything that's come after, as a result, is too. He shouldn't have done it and there's no wonder everything's been off since. Her room could be the same as downstairs and he wouldn't wanna stay there, would he? It's his 'vibe' fucking things. Cheers dad. Jimmy sighs, throwing himself on the bed, and turning it into the appreciative whistle he didn't do at the door. Fucking hell.* Janis: *The eye-roll comes so hard it has her reeling, spinning out in her own head. At least, its better for them both if she pretends that's what's got her feeling dazed and disorientated. Sick with not knowing how to play this. No 'oh my, a boy in my room!' giddiness, fuck that shit. It was 'oh my, having to spend time in this depressing pit'. And his hand forced to spend his time here too. It'd be different if he had wanted to. Maybe. Okay, probably not. But if he had wanted to then they really wouldn't care where they were, paying no mind to anything but each other, not like his car was a lambo or like she'd given two fucks then, so it might've been tolerable. Ignorable, at the very least. But he HAD to be here. Nowhere else to go. That paired with how this room inadvertently showed all her cards had her feeling as bare as their surroundings, #exposed as they would say for the craic. Not that she was mad at him for not begging to sleepover just 'cos he wanted her so bad, again, fuck that shit hard. Not that girl. Everything was just weird and off and it didn't lend itself to a good night's sleep for either of 'em, she was willing to bet. She shrugged, those muscles so overworked, never skipped, massaging at the tension there in vain. Bounced from the dramatic way he flung himself down, she rests herself down on her elbow beside him, face to face.* If you want, we can go to the Barn. Its kitted out, like- *She pauses, thinking back on the times when it had been a place they all made Diego's films together, the times it had been Edie and Rio's bedroom, sneaking in there with them, leaving Grace alone in the dark of their old shared room. Now, well- She spent even less time in there than she did here. Only venturing when it was so dark and she felt so alone, it just felt right to hide out in there; harking back to all those many nights she'd sneak out, praying Edie would be there again, and to the one night, she was. Tucked up in her bed as if she'd never left. As if she wasn't really there. But she was. She was. And she'd gestured for her to get in with her and they'd just held each other...Janis holding on for dear life, determined to NEVER let go, so she couldn't leave again. She thought she felt the same desperation, in the way her big sister clutch to her too, almost hurting her but she would have never of complained. Determined to keep her in sight, eyes wide open and staring into hers, barely visible in the dark but there. She was there. Of course, she had fell asleep, and of course, when she awoke, the sun was up and Edie was gone. She was just a fucking kid, like. 'A fucking failure is what you were. And are.' She shook her head. At least the barn HAD memories, more than you could say of the box room she'd relegated herself too. No longer able, or needing to share with anyone. Not Grace. Or Rio and Edie. They'd all gone. Empty rooms to fill.* All mod cons and a comfy bed, like. But you can keep that between us and add to your sob story, yeah? *She mimics the tiny violin he was always sending, #IRLShade like, hoping the piss-taking would distract from the disjointed nature she'd made that offer in. Ghosts refusing to let her go, let her be with him fully. She never could be. It was the sad kind of hurt when you just know, know that whatever you're doing, or want to do, won't work. And knowing this and knowing you're gonna hurt the other person, so far so clueless. Oh, Jim. Why do you think I was on my own when you met me, boy?* Jimmy: *He's fucked it instantly, looking at her too hard, all the bollocks stripped back and away by how close she is, suddenly, though he should have expected it. Not like her bed's big enough for anything much else, but he never does, somehow. Still. Ever. Breathing hurts but he forces himself not to keep it shallow, refusing to swap places so soon when she was meant to be the one swooning. Fake or not. And there's so much real shit he wants to say, but can't. Again, too much. It leaves him only inhaling and sighing, brooding like the kinda poser he isn't trying to be on any day. Least of all this one. Does it matter though? It doesn't feel like it when his hand drops before it can reach out, touch her in any way, jokes as out of bounds as anything. He isn't meant to be lost with her, but tonight doesn't give a fuck about that, does it? He jumps on the offer a change, nodding, frantic for a kick that'd have him behaving like less of a dick. Please. The fucking break he hasn't asked her for is there, inching closer to letting itself be said, and he's scared of that, going there like.* Alright. *He wants to give himself a smack for how quiet he sounds. Serious. Okay knobhead, calm it. Good luck following that through when you know you've got none though, Jim. He's up and taking her hand before he can dwell on it, moving to take the lead as far as retracing their steps and being out. He can handle that geography. Jimmy does allow himself a pause small enough only to draw a cross over his heart playfully once she's played the violin for him. Thanks, mate. It's almost spoken aloud 'cause of the relief the familiarity of it , brought here and now, comforts him. Alright, calm it again, tosser. But yeah, that works, letting him. He walks stretching their linked hands as far as possible while staying connected, laughing genuinely, still soft but out there. He draws a quick tick over the same space, hurriedly.* Done. Janis: Alright. *She confirms with a nod as serious as his close-to-silence was. Couldn't accuse him of being a man of too MANY words usually, like, but still, spoke volumes, didn't it? Could write friggin' volumes on how badly she was fucking it up with him now. That's what you did after break-ups, right? Write wanky (in all the ways) poetry. Fuck that. Get the fuck out of your own head, fucking eejit! Now! He's still here yet. She seized the conversation by the balls, 'fore it got away from her grasp again, immediately adding-* Alright, alright, alright! *Matthew McConaughey style. 'Cos Christ, someone had to cut through the tension and she weren't about to invite the fam up to give it a go. Fuck that, too. Even if it was awkward as arse, to say the least, and the dead and buried past was unearthing itself just to try drag her under tonight- she still wanted it to be just them. Him and her, fuck the rest. And that was something. Even if that was all she could get, all she still had. She'd cling to that with bleeding, broken nails, jaw clamped, teeth sunk deep in the flesh of it. It was something. She was so fucking used to, so fucking sick of, nothing. A promise, or a prayer, she repeated it over and over, 'til she near believed it herself. With this in mind, she pulls on the hand that is leading her, pulls him back, understanding his rush and only wanting to slow it for one thing. She mimics shooting him where he had been tracing, where she wants to trail her own fingers badly, as he draws in, she puts her fist over his heart, thumping up and down, up and down, before exploding out- And with that, she kisses him, as desperate as he was to take up her offer and run, she needed this more. And she had never known anything she needed more than to run. But she did. She did.* Done. *She mirrors, drawing her lips away from his, with a smirk. Ahead again, one foot on the top step.* Jimmy: *He's about to descend back into mockery, the words 'all about the obscure refs, you' there, ready to go if he's willing to release them, thoughts already going backward, onto the typed convo where she tried to give him an artsy education, school him about muses, all of that, but before he can take the step she's pulling him, literally to where she's forced a stop. In the first second he's tense, thinking it's a full one, that she's done with him and the company he isn't being tonight, but before he can fall further into his pit (he's in there enough, prior that she's tried to dig at him with her best McConaughey, for fuck's sake) he all but floats out. There's no # that could cover this in his stunted imagination, he thinks, before his brain shuts off. The kiss is more than the break he didn't have the balls to ask for (though it lasts about as long as the one he'd gave her, standing on some twat's marble floor). It's a separation from all the shit that's been running him ragged for days, forcing him to run here in the first place. Jimmy knows then that he'll stay, has to, not 'cause there's nowhere else to go, but 'cause nowhere else exists when she kisses him like that. Fuck. It basically escapes, not as the word, but in sound that he can't escape either. Doesn't want to. The only thing he cares about is keeping this close to her and knowing she's alright with him being there. More than fucking alright like.* Nah mate *He retorts breathlessly, clawing back some strength back only as his hands find her hips and use the grip he's found there to spin her body round to face him. He isn't done yet, there's no chance. Not now she's given him one to erase the last few days and land him back into decent ones with her. Jimmy's an echo of how he was after running from Mr Lucas and he's not letting go of that. What for? 'Cause his dad wants him to. Fuck that and fuck him. What was he done with was feeling like shit. So of course he kissed her again, sinking only into the depths of that, trying to say everything with it that he couldn't verbally. Needing to have a go even though it meant hearing Janis' clatter into the beginnings of the banister with the force of everything he was desperate for her to know, 'cause if he pulled back then that'd be it and he's not having that. Fuck no. He's lost enough, tonight's bed being the least of it. Janis: *If she was going to complain, (she wasn't), he doesn't give her the time, or space, to do so. Exactly what they both needed; and she didn't need to reckon that. Crashing together, crashing into the wall, like. No room for anything to come between 'em, not their thoughts or past or any of that bullshit; all blurring into background nothingness, where it belonged. In these moments, there was nothing but them and their need. And it was good. Really good. The kind of good she didn't need to second-guess or overthink. Just be in it and soak in every second, every touch, the heat and feel of his skin against hers, alive, human, real. The violence of the urgency, the competitive one-upping- Not only keeping it interesting (to say the fucking least) but keeping it as something she could understand, something that didn't scare the living shit out of her, frankly. Easy as breathing, this; Though both theirs was heavy now, laboured from the control of letting some of said go, whilst not losing themselves to it so wholly that they alerted someone to it, spoiling their fun for the second time in a week. A game of meeting every kiss of his with more, and then some. Biting, tugging at his bottom lip in, trying in vain to make the kiss even deeper. Nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down with her as her back slid down the wall, him sat at the top of the stairs, her on his lap. 'How did you stop yourself though?' A faint voice in the back of her mind pondered, with no intention to found within her. Clearly, they needed the Mr. Lucas' of the world or they'd never get anything else done. Clearly channeling the man himself, Pablo chose this time to appear out of his room, quite literally stumbling onto the scene, and them, Janis sticking out an arm (and jumping off Jim's lap) with lightning reflexes so he didn't topple down the fucking stairs.* Oops, watch it... *She didn't have time (nor desire) to be embarrassed. Her older Brother's mumbly, half-asleep grumbles of 'a-fucking-gain? Really Janis?!' and promises to 'have words with you, later!' to Jim, had her creasing. When Pablo was out of sight, and out of mind as soon as, she rested her head on the shoulder she'd left nailmarks in, kissing it gently though she wasn't particularly sorry about it.* Jimmy: *It isn't until she has to save him from hitting the bottom of the stairs with a thud that he even sorts out in his head again where they are, beyond the abstract bollocks of 'together' and all that. It takes that much to get through to him, but he isn't sorry, 'cause he isn't alone in it. If he's falling, figuratively as well as the near literal, then she is too. And that's alright by him. More than fucking alright, as per like. Jimmy can laugh through this interruption, at what it takes to pull them apart now (unlucky Mr Lucas but you probably won't cut it next time) adding to it himself with the breathless whisper of 'fucking hell, mate' that finds only her ear as he shakes his head affectionately at the pair of 'em. Janis' brother's appearance (along with anything he might have said) forgotten as soon as it's happened, same as before. If they'd been any room for it he might have felt bad for the lad, keeping mugging him off like that, but he still wants what he wants. Needs, honestly. There's no forgetting, or ignoring that any 'itch' has only been scratched so far as to make it more 'itchier', more noticeable in the first place. It's a crap analogy but it's what's there as he pulls her down the stairs and back towards the door, rougher and noisier that he would if he could make a string of thoughts or words fit together properly to promise her that this still isn't done. Jimmy 'reckons' in a semi coherent idea that he'll barricade the barn door with any or all manner of shit, once they are there,  to guarantee no more interruptions tonight. Bet on that, mate, his expression says, as they go. Jinx. Fuck. He almost kicks the door in frustration upon hearing the shout for dinner, her dad's head catching them as 'ready' for it. Pfft. No chance. It smells good, yeah, but there's no contest. Janis feels, looks and smells incredible like. Meals can wait, they always did at his, even when he had his mum there to do his job of moving a tray of something from freezer to cooker, or his pop's of fetching a takeaway when in from work, there was no sitting down at a this or that time. No table to eat at either, just the sofa, or his bed when he was being the type of utter dickhead that only a certain age manages, whenever it was put in front of him. Here at Janis, that time, was right now. And worse, ('cause of course there's worse with his English luck) before he can do a dash that'd have that school day looking like slo-mo, his stomach rumbles, sealing the deal and their fates. His girlfriend has never let him go hungry yet. Shit. To be continued then.*

[ouraidengray4]

My Emotional Support Animal Isn't the World's Cutest Scam—He's an Important Part of My Life

Growing up, I hated dogs. Or at least, I was very scared of them; I’d run away or cross the street whenever I saw one. Over time, that fear lessened to skepticism. By the time I was in college, I used to snark, "If I wanted a dog, I’d just have a baby." I saw dogs as a nuisance and an obligation that reeked of dependence. At least babies grow up to feed themselves, I thought.

But my feelings about dogs changed overnight. After coming to terms with my anxiety disorder, I learned that ESAs can help mitigate the stress of having a disability, particularly a psychiatric one. I would spend hours looking at cute videos of puppies running and snuggling, and just that little bit of connection would bring me immense joy. I began wondering what it would be like to have an ESA of my own, so I took the leap and decided to find out.

Any domesticated animal (yes, including that duck wearing a diaper) can be an emotional support animal. This is the major difference between ESAs and other service animals; while a service dog for a person who is visually impaired must be able to assist them with very specific tasks, ESAs offer support simply by being there.

When I stopped watching puppies frolic on YouTube and starting doing concrete research, I settled on an adorable little dog I named Giant. Sometimes I get down on myself for being sick, and on these days, Giant is the only thing that seems certain in my life. He can sense when I’m having a hard day, and he'll curl his 5-pound body right beside mine to comfort me.

Before Giant came into my life, there were mornings I couldn’t get out of bed. I was overwhelmed by pain, illness, and resentment about that pain and illness. Once I started to get my health back on track, those sensations lessened, but I would still easily become sad and filled with self-pity. Now that I have Giant, that has changed drastically. I wake up to him patiently waiting for me to say, "Good morning, Giant!"—his signal to wake up and play.

My dog makes me feel more motivated to recover and safer on those days when recovery seems impossible.

Each day with Giant by my side makes me feel safer. I know I have an ally to give me love, kindness, and support whenever I need it. My dog makes me feel more motivated to recover and safer on those days when recovery seems impossible. No matter what, I know Giant will be jumping on his hind legs and smothering me with love the moment I walk through the door.

There's been an upsetting rumor lately that emotional support animals are frequently shams. Although I can understand how it may seem laughable that I take Giant on car rides with me or cry when I have to leave him, my relationship with him isn't a joke. Giant is my anchor, my constant reminder that everything will be okay and that I deserve health and happiness. When I see people being critical about the many Americans who benefit from emotional support animals, it's upsetting.

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It's easy for people to acknowledge the validity of a service animal for someone with a physical disability like blindness. But for those of us who are functionally disabled in a way that’s less visibly apparent, the negative rhetoric around the rising number of emotional support animals reminds us that our culture refuses to treat neurological disorders the same as we do physical disorders like blindness or deafness. Mental illness is physical, and physical illnesses are not always visible. The conversation about emotional support animals and neurological disorders in general has to change.

I’m often scared when I travel or take Giant in public because I know what people are thinking: What is this able-bodied young woman doing pretending to have a disability? In fact, strangers have brought this up with me directly. Although I try to take it in stride, some days I can’t help but feel attacked. A quick glance in my handbag would show you the prescription medicines I need to take daily; I may look healthy, but that's because I work damn hard at it, and my disability is medically documented and federally protected.

This is not to say there aren’t a few bad apples who abuse the system; on the contrary, I fully acknowledge that happens. But arguing that emotional support animals need further regulations because some people abuse the system is like saying we shouldn’t have shopping malls because some people shoplift.

Other people have turned their nose up at the fact that Giant isn't a rescue. But an emotional support animal, like any other service animal, serves a purpose. I couldn't adopt a dog who may have behavioral issues or a traumatic history; that would effectively negate the point of having an ESA and potentially endanger civilians I encounter when traveling with Giant or when people visit my home. I chose my shorkie (that's a mix of shih tzu and Yorkshire terrier) for a number of reasons related to their temperaments but also because they are hypoallergenic, making them a safe breed to take around those with pet allergies.

Of course, everyone has their weaker points. My "designer dog" can’t handle being outside unless the weather is perfectly moderate, and he has the picky palate of a Michelin-starred chef. But his flaws are the perfect reminder why I have him in my life in the first place. We should not be defined by our faults but by the love we give the world. Giant has a heart so full of love—not just for me but for every person he encounters. Because of his endless love, I happily put up with his diva behavior when it comes to food or the weather. Giant not only eases the side effects of my illness, but he also inspires me to be as loving as he is.

Much as I've learned about how wonderful having a dog in your life can be, I hope critics of emotional support animals can understand that ESAs provide a very real service and assistance to people with invisible disabilities. I am lucky to have a wonderful support system full of family and friends, but an animal bond is different. Giant doesn't have other plans when I need company, and he never wants to rush my recovery or ask a million questions when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. All he wants is to be by my side. There is not a single day I don’t acknowledge the beauty and magnitude of such a purehearted companion.

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