#i went to do this in september and thought to myself

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 10 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

9 months later. . .

“Look who finally made it,” Liam teases when he opens his door.

I scoff playfully and hug him after being ushered into the apartment. “I’m sorry. I know I said I’d be here earlier, but traffic was a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I know.” He waves me off and runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out. “But I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”

I nod and accept the spare key he hands me while slipping into his dress shoes. “Have fun!” I tease when he shrugs on his jacket.

“It’s a business dinner, not a date, Y/N.” He deadpans which makes me laugh and slap his shoulder before he leaves with a final wave and smile.

It’s the end of September and I’m visiting New York for a couple of days since I have some time off before the hockey season begins again.

I’m here to visit Liam— obviously, since I’m staying with him— but also Tara and Sam, who agreed it would be better if I stayed with Liam since they’re apartment is fairly small and their roommate, Quinn, doesn’t know me.

Since Christmas, we’ve only seen each other once, three months ago, at one of my hockey games which Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad came to see after they all collectively moved to New York.

I was happy to see them again, and glad we were once again living in the same time zone, but there was an underlying tension the whole time we hung out because things between Sam and I haven’t been the same ever since Christmas.

While Tara and I are in contact almost daily, Sam and I barely even talk once a week. It’s not for her lack of trying though, it’s because I’ve distanced myself ever since I realized it was hopeless to think the two of us could ever be a thing.

I gave up on her, doing exactly what Tara told me not to do, and I even tried to move on, but that didn’t work out as planned.

I went on a couple of dates here and there, and hooked up with several people, but I just can’t get over Sam even though nowadays we’re barely even friends.

The only reason we could still be considered friends is because of our backstory and because Tara connects us. Other than that, we’re back to the way things were when Sam first returned to Woodsboro, and being like this hurts even more than when she was simply gone.

Those five years were undoubtedly the most painful years of my life, but now everything is so much worse. I thought I’d gotten Sam back, I thought we could finally be something, but all of that hope shattered as soon as she said she’d never do long distance. She also never acknowledged how Richie exposed my feelings for her, which makes it abundantly clear that she’d rather just forget about it and move on as friends.

I know she doesn’t owe me anything and she’s been trying to stay in contact as best as she can, but I’m just too hurt to let her back in and accept her as just a friend.

I know how stupid that sounds and it’s not my intention to hurt her by keeping my distance, but it’s just how I cope with everything.

With a sigh I enter Liam’s apartment properly and let out an impressed whistle when I realize just how big and luxurious it actually is. When he sent me his address and I saw that it was on the upper west side, I was surprised because living here is usually reserved for the rich and famous, but he explained that his company owns the building and rents its apartments to their employees for a reasonable price.

That doesn’t make it any less luxurious though, and when I take a look in the bathroom and see a rain shower with a view of the twinkling city outside I make a mental note to use it as soon as possible.

Right now, I’m hungry though, so I raid Liam’s fridge, helping myself to a smoothie and some leftover chocolate cake that he has for some reason.

The dinner he’s at right now wasn’t planned, it was a last minute thing his boss organized, but I’m not complaining. Yes, we were supposed to do something together tonight, but I’ll just check and see if Sam and Tara are free instead.

We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow for lunch, but I don’t see why I can’t stop by their place tonight, too.

I pull out my phone and call Tara after gulping down some of my smoothie. She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly call Sam next.

Tara’s probably in the shower or something. . . God knows she loves to take long ass showers. When she lived with me my water bill almost doubled.

Sam picks up after two rings which is not surprising since I can’t remember the last time I called her instead of the other way around.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Her concerned voice makes my stomach twist and I hate how she thinks something’s wrong because I’m calling her instead of Tara.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got into the city and was wondering if I could stop by your place for some dinner since Liam was called into work,” I say.

The sound of traffic on Sam’s end of the line makes me realize she’s not home and I think calling might have been a mistake, but she immediately agrees. “Of course. I’ll text you the address again. I’m not home yet because I just got out of therapy, but Tara and Quinn should be home.“

“Okay. Thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence, but Sam is quick to break it by saying, “Alright then. See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you.” I hang up and exhale slowly.

It’s just Sam, Y/N. Pull yourself together. You’re going to go see Tara and Sam, and their roommate, not just Sam.

The two of us haven’t been alone since Christmas eve and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.

I finish the piece of cake and throw away the empty smoothie bottle before grabbing a zip up hoodie from my bag and heading out of the apartment.

Sam and Tara’s apartment is quite far away, and because I’m not in the mood to call an Uber or take the subway, I take one of the public e scooters standing around, unlocking it with my phone before heading off.

It’s nice getting some fresh air after being cooped up in my car for hours and not even fifteen minutes later I’m in front of the building Sam sent me the address of.

I get off the scooter and park it around the corner, making my way inside the building after getting buzzed in by some random person.

Compared to Liam’s building, this place is a dump, but it seems relatively safe and affordable, so who am I to judge. This is New York after all.

I head up the stairs and knock on the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment, my heart rate picking up with each second that passes until the door finally opens.

Having expected Sam or Tara, I’m surprised when a stranger greets me. It’s a red haired girl, around Tara’s age, with a round face and gray eyes. She’s dressed in only a robe and I momentarily avert my eyes when she reties it around her waist.

“Hi, you must be Quinn,” I say, raising my hand in greeting.

Quinn’s eyes rake over me and she smirks before her eyes snap back up to mine. “Yeah, and you’re Y/N, right?”

I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her hungry gaze. “The one and only,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Quinn’s face softens ever so slightly and her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “So I heard. . . You’re here to see Sam and Tara?” she guesses and when I nod again, she opens the door properly and invites me inside.

“Sam should be here any minute, but Tara is out,” she says.

I frown. “She’s out? Sam said she’d be here.”

Quinn smiles apologetically and goes to say something but then a man’s voice from a nearby room calls for her. “Babe? You coming back or what?”

My eyes widen and I feel heat rushing into my cheeks. That’s why she’s only wearing a robe. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. . . interrupt you and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” Quinn laughs as if the idea is ridiculous and waves me off. “Oh don’t worry. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hooking up.” She eyes me once again with that lustful look in her eyes and bites her lip seductively, squeezing my biceps. “You could join us if you want. The more the merrier, am I right?”

I squirm and pull my arm out of her grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

God, what’s up with her?

I want to ask about Tara’s whereabouts again when the door behind us opens.

My eyes instantly lock with Sam’s and even though I’m nervous to see her again, I’m also relieved she’s here to distract Quinn from making a move on me again.

“Y/N. . .” She hugs me after a moment’s hesitation before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. “I see you’ve already met Quinn.”

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly and avoid looking at the aforementioned roommate. “Mhmm.”

Quinn, having absolutely no shame whatsoever, touches my arm again. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?”

Oh lord. . .

My face heats up again, but Sam is quick to come to my rescue. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow before stepping in between Quinn and me which forces the redhead to let go of me.

“Right. I forgot you don’t like to share.” Quinn laughs, unbothered and turns to head into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I know she can be a bit much sometimes.” Sam glances at me over her shoulder, and I wave her off nervously.

“It’s okay.“

She turns as soon as Quinn is out of sight and I hold my breath at how close she is.

She looks as beautiful as ever even though she looks tired and I curse my heart for flipping in my chest when she picks a piece of lint off my shoulder.

The white off-shoulder top she’s wearing over her tank top looks incredible on her and I have to force myself not to look at her exposed neck and collar bones too much, a task that is incredibly hard because she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for Christmas.

It glints in the low light and even though the knowledge that she still wears it makes my insides melt, it also serves as a reminder why I’ve been keeping my distance.

Don’t get hurt again, Y/N.

I swallow thickly and lean back a little, not missing the way confusion and hurt flashes across Sam’s face before she clears her throat and steps back.

She looks anywhere but at me before asking Quinn, “Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn, who was just about to open a bottle of wine in the kitchen turns with a sheepish smile. “Uh, don’t be mad. . .”

I frown and follow Sam into the kitchen.

“Why would I be mad?” Sam asks and the way Quinn winces slightly at her tone makes my lips twitch with amusement.

“Because you get mad,” she says and I can’t help but agree silently.

Sam does have a temper, however I’m not sure why she’d be mad when Quinn tells her where Tara is as long as she’s not alone.

“Babe?” The guy from what I’m assuming is Quinn’s bedroom calls for her again which makes Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the question of Tara’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.

“Is that Paul?” she asks and Quinn cringes when the guy shouts, “Who the fuck is Paul?”

“Life, I have found,” she says quietly with an innocent shrug, “is all about variety.”

This time I can’t help but smile properly, and Sam chuckles softly, too.

“So, uh, where’s Tara?” she asks after a moment which makes Quinn sigh helplessly, the wine on the counter forgotten as she toys with the bottle opener in her hands.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party.”

Huh. I didn’t think Tara’d be one to enjoy frat parties but I guess she’s young and wants to try everything now that she’s in a new city and in college.

Sam doesn’t seem to agree though and it’s clear why Quinn was scared of her getting mad when she exclaims, “What? I begged her not to go to that!”

I want to tell her that it’s just a party, but she seems to haver her reasons why she doesn’t want Tara there, so I stay quiet.

Quinn sighs again. “And we’ve now arrived at mad. . .”

I try my best not to smile— Quinn’s actually pretty funny now that she’s not trying to sleep with me— and focus on Sam instead.

She seems ready to explode, but gathers herself by taking a deep breath and closes her eyes momentarily. Then she deflates and when she asks, “Do you know if she at least took her taser?” she sounds more worried than mad.

A taser?

Quinn grabs the wine off the counter and pushes the cork screw into the cork before twisting it and opening the bottle. “I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” she says hesitantly which makes Sam huff in frustration and brush past me back to the front door where she grabs a taser from a dresser.

I follow her, knowing she’s going to go back out to look for Tara, and Quinn follows me with the now open bottle of wine in hand, ready to return to her not-boyfriend.

Sam eyes the taser for a moment, her jaw working and I move around her to grab her jacket off the hook for her.

Right as I reach for it though, Quinn says something that makes me freeze. “Oohh. Is cute boy shirtless again?”

My head snaps around so fast, it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap, and my eyes instantly land on what, or rather who, Quinn and Sam are looking at through the window. There’s a shirtless guy, seemingly my age or a couple years older in the apartment right across from us.

I have to admit, he is cute with his neatly trimmed beard and muscular upper body, and I even smile when Quinn’s not-boyfriend asks, “Who’s cute boy, babe?” and Quinn cringes, replying, “Always you. . . sweetie.” But that smile is quickly wiped off my face when I see the way Sam is looking at him.

Her eyes are soft and there’s something like longing written all over her face which feels like a sucker punch to the stomach.

This is why I keep my distance. . . She’s not mine and if she likes this cute boy, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I’m jealous, I’m just hurt and I’m once again reminded to keep my heart guarded.

But then Sam’s eyes snap to me and her face instantly falls and something like guilt flickers across her eyes, but I don’t dwell on it and avert my own eyes, staring at my shoes and fidgeting with Liam’s key in the pocket of my hoodie.

“You guys have been checking each other out for months, why don’t you just talk to him?” Quinn asks softly, and once again, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Sam turns away from the window and I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. “Because. . .” Her voice falters ever so slightly before going on. “That right there is all the romantic interaction I’m ready for.”

Once again a reminder that she’s not over Richie, and definitely not into me. . .

Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn shrug and when Sam says, “I’m going to find Tara, you coming with me, Y/N?” I nod wordlessly without meeting her eye, and follow her out of the apartment after returning Quinn’s awkward wave.

I’m doing exactly what I planned on avoiding, which is being alone with Sam, but my worry for her going out alone outweighs my need to keep my distance, so I silently follow her down the stairs and outside where she pulls out her phone to look up the directions to the frat house.

I forgot you don’t like to share. . .

Quinn’s words suddenly echo through my mind and I frown because Sam and I obviously aren’t a thing, but before I can dwell on it too long, Sam nudges me and starts walking. “Come on, let’s go. The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we can walk.”

I wordlessly fall into step beside her, intent on not talking about what just happened, but she seems to have other plans because after we cross the street she turns to me with furrowed eyebrows and says, “You know, Danny and I aren’t a thing or anything. . .”

“What?” I know she probably means cute boy, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I thought they only knew each other because they live across from each other, but it seems as though they know each other better than that. Also, the fact that Sam is trying to deny that something is going on between them makes me believe there actually is something going.

Which is fine. . . Totally fine. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices.

“Y-you know,” she stutters. “The guy, Cute Boy, he and I, we’re not a thing. Not really— I mean we’re just—“

I stop dead in my tracks and raise a hand which makes her shut up and stop walking as well. “Why are you telling me this?”

She seems taken aback by the harshness of my tone and frowns, so I sigh and add, “I mean, I don’t tell you anything about my love life, so why are you telling me about yours?”

Sam’s frown deepens. “I just— I thought you should know— I mean. . . You’re my best friend.”

I scoff and before I can stop myself I say, “Am I though?”

“What?”

“Your best friend?” I clarify, ignoring how crushed she looks at the implication of my words. “We’ve barely spoken in nine months.”

“And whose fault is that?” she snaps back defensively. She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with a challenging glare.

I know she’s not actually mad, she’s just hurt and she’s put up her guard, so I deflate a little.

She’s right, it’s my fault we haven’t really talked since Christmas, but I’m not about to spill the beans and tell her why.

“Look,” I say softly. “Let’s not get into this now.”

“Why not?” she asks harshly. “Because you can’t just hang up if it gets too much?”

I cringe at that because lately every time she calls and asks what’s wrong I usually come up with an excuse to hang up or ignore her texts.

I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just find Tara okay, we can get into this tomorrow.”

Sam bites the inside of her cheek and the storm of emotions in her eyes makes me believe she’s about to disagree, but then she huffs and turns around to continue leading our way to the frat house.

Long story short, at the party, Sam ends up tasing a guy who tried to drag Tara upstairs in the balls which in turn leads to Tara storming out with the rest of us— Mindy, her girlfriend Anika, Chad, Chad’s roommate Ethan, Sam, and me— hot on her heels.

“Tara, will you stop?” Sam says, sounding irritated as Tara continues to dash ahead. She’s short and has asthma, so she’s not going all too fast, but still. . .

She has yet to realize I’m also here, but I don’t want to get in the middle of what’s about to go down between her and Sam, so I stay back with the others, the twins having greeted me with quick hugs a moment ago before officially introducing me to Anika and Ethan.

“I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara shouts over her shoulder.

“That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you,” Sam argues and even though she’s right, that guy was really sleazy, she didn’t actually have to tase him. Also it looked like Chad had it covered, but I’m not about to get in the middle of this.

“So?” Tara stops abruptly and turns on her heels to face Sam.

The rest of us come to a halt a safe distance away, but I raise my eyebrows at what Tara just said.

“So?” Sam echoes incredulously, voicing my exact thoughts, but Tara is not having it.

“If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision!” she shouts and even though she’s right, it is her decision, I don’t like the way she’s talking to Sam like she did something wrong by trying to protect her.

Sam tenses and I know what Tara just said hit a nerve, but she stays calm and simply nods dismissively. “Okay. . .”

Tara doesn’t seem to be done just yet though because she goes on, “I mean, you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”

Yikes. She’s right, but. . . yikes.

“Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us,” Sam shoots back, her voice relatively calm. “Have you even gone to see the counselor once?”

“No, I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

I sigh and share at look with Chad and Mindy who seem to be hating this just as much as me, if not even more because it sounds like this isn’t the first time the two sisters have been at each other’s throats.

Anika and Ethan just look uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the fight I’d laugh at how ridiculous they look, what with Ethan wearing Anika’s pumpkin hat and Anika wearing Ethan’s ridiculous cardboard helmet that matches his handcrafted chest plate.

“Hey, guys, come on,” Chad tries to step in at one point when Tara accuses Sam of living in the past, but he’s straight up ignored and I shoot him a pitiful look when our eyes meet.

They continue bickering, and even though I agree with Tara that we shouldn’t let something that happened to us for three days define the rest of our lives, I don’t like how she puts Sam on the spot in front of everyone by asking why she’s in New York with the rest of them.

After what feels like hours, they finally stop which is when, out of nowhere, a girl walking by yells, “Murderer!” and throws her drink at Sam.

Sam recoils and chaos erupts. There’s shouting and cursing, and a bunch of accusations thrown at Sam about God knows what, and I’m barely fast enough to rush forward and wrap my arms around her stomach from behind to prevent her from lunging at the girl who threw her drink at her.

Everything is over in a blur and before we know it the grill and her friends have left and the people who stopped and stood around to watch are moving on as though nothing happened.

I let go of Sam as soon as I’m sure she won’t do anything reckless again and step back, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Chad is also holding back Tara.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, but no one answers and Sam even looks away as though she’s ashamed of something.

“Let’s just go.” Tara sighs and turns to leave, grabbing Anika’s and Chad’s arm.

Mindy frowns but agrees and is quick to follow them, leaving Ethan behind with me and Sam, who is currently trying to wring out her shirt.

“Hey, I. . . I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan offers kindly, pulling some tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Sam.

She wordlessly takes them and Ethan awkwardly looks between the two of us for a moment, obviously not knowing what else to do before hurrying after the others.

What an odd kid.

Sam dabs at her neck and hair where most of the drink hit her and she’s about to brush past me to follow the others as well, but I step in front of her and gently touch her forearm.

“Wait.”

Defeated brown eyes find mine, and the way she deflates when looking at me breaks my heart.

I have no idea what that girl and her friends meant when they called her a murderer and when they said she “knows what she did”, but now’s not the time to ask about it.

I take the used tissues from Sam and momentarily stuff them into the back pocket of my jeans so I have my hands free to unzip and take off my hoodie.

“Here, take this.” I hold it out to Sam, who simply eyes it with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and put this on. I know how you hate it when clothes stick to you.” I wiggled the hoodie a little and raise an eyebrow until she sighs and takes it.

When we were kids I found out how she hates wearing wet clothes after pushing her into our pool after school once.

She wasn’t mad at first because it was summer and we both really needed to cool off, but then she got out of the water and her mood immediately turned sour.

She never explained why, but I knew it was because of her clothes clinging to her, so I never pushed her into the water again unless she was wearing a bikini or swimsuit.

“Thank you.” Sam’s small voice brings me back to reality and when I look up again I see she’s already changed into my hoodie. Her shirt is clutched between her fingers to the point where her knuckles are turning white, but I don’t comment on it.

She’s humiliated, sad, angry, and embarrassed, so all I say is, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for her to lead the way and follow the others.

She lowers her chin in silent thanks again and starts walking, and I follow her after quickly darting over to one of the nearby trash cans and disposing of the tissues.

What a night. . . Maybe I should have stayed at Liam’s and watched some TV.

_______________________________________________

We’re in New York, people! And Ghostface is right around the corner. . .

Poor Sam, getting a drink thrown on her, but the way she clapped back at reader on their way to the party? Damn. . .

And Tara hasn’t even acknowledged reader yet hahah but it’s okay, they’ll talk in the next part.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[nbclover]

teehee

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[maddy-ferguson]

talking to new people again is making me realize that (this is gonna sound dramatic) i haven't lived in five years but what i have done is watch a lot of movies and read a bunch of books and believe it or not that actually makes me an interesting conversationalist in some ways (?)

[ragingdumpsterfire]

.

[tgcg]

parallel movement

[1]===============================================

TG: no rose look were dj crabapple so when we hang out its a mashup i dont get what the problem is

TT: Disregarding the unsavoury implications of you "mashing up" with Karkat, I find it very interesting that you won't even say the word.

TG: i dont need to say the word because it is not even relevant to the situation it is lightyears away dude youre lost in fuckin space with this

[2]==============================================

GA: Very Well Then

GA: Tell Me Karkat What Did You Do Yesterday Again

CG: WE WENT TO SEE A RERUN OF THE EARTH MOVIE "SHARK TALE (2004)" ON ITS "VENICE FILM FESTIVAL PREMIER ANNIVERSARY" OF SEPTEMBER 10TH.

GA: You Remembered All That

CG: YES?

GA: Well

CG: ????

GA: So Anyways You Had Gone To See A Movie Together

CG: YES, KANAYA. BUT KEEP YOUR IGNORANCE-SHAFT'S LOWER MANDIBLE FROM CRATERING THE GROUND JUST YET, BECAUSE WE EVEN HAD A *MEAL* AFTERWARDS!

GA: Interesting

GA: And At What Time Did You Eat Together

[3]==============================================

TG: i dunno man like 7:40:13 pm we didnt book so we had to wait a shitload of time but thats irrelevant

TT: So you had dinner together?

TG: i swear to god if youre on this psychoanalysis non sense again im gonna flip

TG: dont you dare lift your hand up and stroke your chin in consideration with that index finger and hum in a thoughtful tone dont you do it

[4]==============================================

GA: Hmmm

CG: WOW! NOW YOU'RE EVEN STOOPING SO LOW AS TO REPLICATE LALONDE'S CONTEMPTIBLE LITTLE "PSYCHOANALYSIS" ROUTINE. CLASSIC! WHY DON'T WE JUST INVITE HER OVER HERE RIGHT NOW SO I CAN PROSTRATE MYSELF FULLY TO THE WHOLE AUDIENCE! BUT GASP, WATCH AS THE PERFORMER SKIRTS AROUND THAT THINKPAN-MELTING PITFALL LIKE AN ANGELIC FUCKING BALLERINA ROUND THE TRAPDOOR, BECAUSE THAT HOLE LEADS STRAIGHT TO--

GA: Karkat Please Relax Im Just Trying To Ascertain How Your D-

[5]==============================================

TG: --mashup

TT: "Mashup" went.

TG: yknow whats funny i dont ever hear an usher raymond iv of that word while you and kanaya are all tuckin each others hair behind yalls ears and blushing demurely

TT: You have it all wrong, Dave; Kanaya and I's regular meetings of intercultural exchange are just that, not --

[6]==============================================

CG: HMMMMM.

GA: Touché

[schoenpepper]

Jade Leech and the Three Breakups

Intro: He was going to break up with you on your first anniversary. He was going to break up with you before he went to internships. He was going to break up with you after he graduated.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, does jade count as a warning, reader is not yuu, established long term relationship, depression jokes, not proofread

A/N: Sorry, the brainrot got to me. College apparently cannot stop me from thinking about my least favorite character ever. Also, my favorite trope is 'i think they hate me' and 'i want them so bad i'm about to kill someone'.

Masterlist

There's a thick notebook in one of the boxes. Curiosity killed the eel mer, sure, but Jade is attracted to its plain leather cover. On the corner is your name, etched in an elegant cursive he's sure isn't yours.

After four years of romantic partnership, of course he knows your handwriting.

He gingerly fishes it out of its pile—your pile of clutter to get rid of before moving into your new shared home—and decides that of course it is fully within his right to open your journal. Diary, perhaps?

He can't help the grin pulling up the corners of his lips.

Oh dear, you've gotten so lax with such things, darling. Are you banking on his love for you to stop him from borrowing your private thoughts? Such confidence. Misplaced. Such a shame.

The first page has his name.

It takes him aback, but he delightfully relishes in the thought, the possibility, that all your feelings for him over several years would be gathered and spilled into its yellowed pages. Was there a stage of hatred? Rivalry? Were you crushing on him like a little schoolgirl? Such cute (excellent) memories (blackmail) from your youth (material)~ He flips to the second page and reads with unparalleled attentiveness he usually reserves for documents on his favorite projects.

September 1st, 20x1 Sunny : | It's orientation, and I'm following my ma's words about keeping a diary of sorts to keep track of interesting things. I wore the cultist uniform of NRC (fugly ass robes) and stood in line to get sorted to my dorm by the mirror. I got into Octavinelle. I don't know if it's the dorm I would have chosen for myself to be honest, but sure. I can't argue with the magical artifact. What I would like to argue about is the vice housewarden.

His brows furrow slightly in intrigue. Did he do something wrong? He remembered being nothing but a kind, angelic upperclassman to your batch of freshmen.

He's so fucking pretty.

Jade chuckles.

He looks like he's about to eat me whole and fuck, I don't mind if he does!!! He's so tall, and so so attractive, and sevens I thought I came to NRC to study but I think I'm here to fulfill my destiny of becoming his <3

He launches into full-blown laughter. He takes his phone out from his pocket to snap multiple pictures, saving them in a locked folder labeled rather inconspicuously in his gallery.

There's a series of entries after that. Nothing too interesting (he's scanned every single page), just you detailing every second of your (at this point, nonexistent) love life. You write about how many times you'd seen him in a day, and how 'cute' he looks in his school uniform, and how 'adorable' he is when he's hanging onto his broom for dear life in PE. He ignores the fact that you shouldn't have seen him in PE classes because his schedule didn't match yours at that time. Then, there's one that you'd written right before realizing you'd fallen into his love trap~

October 3rd, 20x1 Cloudy :< I think I got tricked into being someone's s/o. I thought he's been inviting me to random outings and stuff, alone, together, as like, a threat maybe. Today I found out Floyd (and therefore Azul, and definitely also him) think of me as Jade's significant other. Which is so weird. I'm so confused???

There's a little chibi drawing on the corner of your face with a blank expression.

I thought we were friends and then his brother tells me that the guy I like doesn't think of me as a friend. Okay??????  JADE LEECH IS TREATING ME LIKE HIS PARTNER AND I DON'T KNOW WHEN IT HAPPENED. (but i like it :D)

Well, you've always been a bit slow, haven't you, darling? You never even noticed when Jade began to take an interest in you, slowly steering you towards his own hobbies, even his club activities. After all, he studied your interests, so isn't it only fair? He likes being able to converse with you. He likes the sound of your voice. He likes the movement of your lips. Is it so bad, then, that he did a few perfectly legal things to somehow shoe you in right by his side? 

In the diary, you detail every feeling in every date. You like picnics. You hated the hike up that mountain with poisonous snakes. You liked the parfait he made for you. You disliked the slightly poisonous mushroom he sauteed and put into your chicken alfredo. Shame.

July 23rd, 20x2 Rainy :(

It takes its first turn about a week before the first anniversary of the day you met him (you don't have a 'real' anniversary since you don't even know when you started dating him).

I think he's going to break up with me soon.

His breath hitches in his throat. He's not sure how to feel upon reading that sentence, but he doesn't like it. 

(Why were you so sure, darling?)

He leans back slightly on his chair. He needs to take a few deep breaths before he can even continue to read your writing.

He's going to be in third year by the time the school year comes around again. He'll be busy with the lounge and studying and vice housewarden stuff. Maybe he won't have time for me anymore.

But that's okay.

I realized something. The twins are not the type of people for long term relationships. After knowing more about Jade, I've learned he's not too different from Floyd concerning several aspects. 1.) He only likes interesting things. Jade likes weird, and fun, and spontaneous. I think he liked me then because I was new and so strange. After all, I didn't know that the guy I loved at first sight was such a feared figure, for good reason too. There was nobody in school who would stick around him so much like I do. 2.) He gets bored just as easily. Jade is the mirror image of Floyd here. Floyd is more moody, but Jade is good at pretending. He likes to play around. Until he doesn't. I know I won't see it coming, but one day, I will be predictable. And he'll get bored. I will no longer be interesting.

Has he always struck you that way?

If he doesn't want to play with me anymore, what am I supposed to do? I need to prepare myself. Someday, he'll leave me, and I need to be stronger then than I am now. Right now, I'll break if he abandons me. Surely if I desensitize myself to the scenario, I can mitigate the damage.

You talk of your own heart like a building in the middle of the Ring of Fire, and Jade's the biggest earthquake that's about to arrive since millennia.

It's not often he finds himself questioning his own morality. Gray is his preference, but then, why does he see this version of himself in your eyes in all black? Has he been anything but kind to you? He's tried, really. If it wasn't enough, he should've seen it in your eyes. He should have known.

The following pages go back to their previous light-hearted tone, slowly leaving the saccharine sweet honeymoon phase and dipping into comfortable and warm. You don't mention that entry again, or even that line of thought. He likes that. Jade would prefer you refusing to humor such blatant nonsense than actually spend time worrying your pretty little head about it. It's just a bit worrying. Like a volcano with lava filling up, is it not dangerous to block the outflow?

Why have you never discussed your thoughts with him?

August 3rd, 20x3 Sunny :<

He has to consider that it might be seasonal depression if the entries keep getting darker around the same time. Like a switch has been flipped, the words turn into blades again, cutting into his skin as though they could never draw blood.

I think he's really going to break up with me soon.

Oh sevens.

He has internships, which means he won't even be at school most of the time. It's upsetting because I think he'll find so many people out there. And they'll be much more interesting than me. And then what? I don't know where he's interning, it's probably because he doesn't want me to be a part of his life any longer.

How did he never know how prone you were to overthinking?

He hasn't gotten bored of me yet, but that's not to say it won't happen when he gets a taste of the real world and realizes how limited he is by this place. By me. Am I holding him back? I never say anything to him about these kinds of feelings because it might burden him. Which is a really funny sentence to write considering this is Jade Leech I'm talking about. It's not like he cares about other people's opinions enough for it to be a burden to him.

Why then, Jade wonders, would you ever consider yourself as 'other people'?

I hope he lets me down gently, at least.

Why would he ever let you down at all?

It's a shame to say but I think I love him.

And again, like nothing ever happened at all, the following recorded dates speak nothing of your plight. Instead, you jot down your visits to Jade in his chosen workplace, since obviously, he'd given you the details despite your previous doubts. The records of your life when not with him are few and far between, as you usually opted to write about Jade when together with him. There's an entry about the time you went to the amusement park with him, and threw up all over his jacket. There's one about the cake you failed horribly at baking during his birthday.

There's an entry about the first time you explored intimacy with him.

So it gives him severe whiplash when the entry after that is back to the same 'break up' tone as before, right around the same time as the other two.

(He should call a therapist for you.)

August 1st, 20x4 Sunny >:( He will definitely break up with me soon!

Why is this one so enthusiastic about it, though?

Maybe it's been in his plans all along. Only until graduation! This time, he'll definitely, definitely break up with me. Yes! I mean, I shouldn't be happy about it, but my two predictions beforehand were incorrect, and it makes me very nervous. So I have a plan. On his graduation, I'm going to give him a bouquet of flowers and a terrarium that I personally made.

Yes he remembers that. He still has the terrarium in his collection room.

And then, I'm going to confess my love for him.

Yes he remembers that too. You said 'I love you', and though slightly taken aback, he returned your sentiments.

And it would be the perfect gateway for him to talk about breaking up with me.

Huh. That's definitely not what he thought of it then. Is that why you were so surprised when he said 'I love you too'?

And it would probably hurt, but I think I can get away with not crying in front of him. I really love him. But I think it would be for the best that he leaves now, when I can still let him go with grace. Someday, I'll be in love with him, maybe to the point that I'd break down at his feet and beg for him to pick up the pieces. But I don't want him to see me like that.

He doesn't want to see that either.

(But rest assured, should it happen, he will pick up every piece of you and glue it back together with his love. Rather cheesy, though.)

Wish me luck!!!

Jade's lips curl up into a lazy grin, flipping to the last page on the notebook. There's not much, but he reads through it with a soft chuckle and writes in the corner with a blue pen. "Jade! The moving company will be here soon," you pop your head through the doorway, only glancing at him briefly before walking away, "I'm almost done with the kitchen."

He places your diary into his box of 'to keep', sealing the cardboard shut with some tape.

August 2, 20x4 Cloudy :o He said he loves me too. I could be wrong, but I think Jade's never going to break up with me.

June 16, 20x5 Sunny :) Let's get married soon, darling. I'm looking forward to the rest of our life together.

[tkwrites]

Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC

gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Come See You?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 

Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.

Word count: 4,600

Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.

Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?

Can I come see you? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 

Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.

There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.

It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.

Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 

Can I come see you? 

Her heart leapt into her throat.

Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  

He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 

Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 

Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.

He asked for her address. 

She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 

My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 

He reacted with a thumbs up. 

Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 

When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 

Her heart fluttered.

“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 

Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 

They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 

“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 

Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 

“And this is Jane.” 

She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.

Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 

Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 

Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. “Tough break tonight,” she said, leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch.

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

“Here, we can go in my room.” 

When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 

He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 

Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 

She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  

“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.

His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?

“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.

“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 

She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 

Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 

Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  

Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 

She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 

“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 

Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 

Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 

He shook his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.

Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 

“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”

Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 

“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.

Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  

“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 

As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 

He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”

Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 

A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 

Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.

“Can you just talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”

“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 

He let out a low whistle. 

“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”

He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 

“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”

“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 

“Did you like it?” 

He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”

“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”

A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.

“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”

“Really?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”

“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 

He hmm’d.

Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.

“How did you meet them?” 

“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 

“Just like that?” 

“I guess?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“What?” 

“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”

“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”

He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 

They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 

“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 

As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale.” When he didn't respond, she continued, “I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 

“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 

She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 

“That sounds nice.”

“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 

“Almond, please.” 

“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 

Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 

“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 

She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.

She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 

“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 

“Okay.” 

As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.

Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 

Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 

Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 

He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 

She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.

“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 

“Yeah.”

Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 

“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 

“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.

He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 

His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 

“I really like you, Sarah.” 

“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 

Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 

When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.

This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 

She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.

The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.

Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 

A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.

 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 

He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”

When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 

Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 

“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”

“Mini sticks?”

“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”

“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 

A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 

She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 

“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”

She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 

“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 

“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 

Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 

An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 

“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 

“That’s just…really?” 

He nodded.

“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 

“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 

The kettle whistled. 

As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 

A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 

As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 

“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 

“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 

“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 

He shrugged. 

The machine whirred to life.

“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 

When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 

“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 

“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 

Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 

Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 

“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”

“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”

She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”

He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”

“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”

“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.

Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”

While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 

Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”

Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”

Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 

“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 

He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 

Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 

Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 

Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.

“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 

“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 

Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”

“And it took you two trips to do it?” 

“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 

“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 

“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”

“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”

“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 

“You too?” 

“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”

“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 

“Why were you touching his nose?” 

“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”

Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 

Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”

All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 

“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 

“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”

“Will you just fuck him already?” 

Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”

“I think I knew that from the start.”

“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 

“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”

“Yes you will.” 

“No. I won't.” 

“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”

“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 

“That’s why you love me.”

Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[cityofmeliora]

notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

a few weeks ago i saw this post from slavghoul which has snippets of TF describing the Papas. it includes this quote:

“He represents this frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself. But despite his wounds and his darkness, he has a sense of humour and is endearing, like most of my heroes. The late actor Christopher Lee was an inspiration to me. In many ways, he is Papa.” (Metallian 7/2015)

i thought this quote was really interesting because i'd never seen anyone talking about that side of Terzo before. Terzo hating "everyone, especially himself" felt at odds with the charming personality he typically displayed. i wanted to know how that developed and where his "wounds and darkness" came from. so i did some digging for quotes on Terzo's history and characterization. here are my notes + thoughts:

something that came up again and again in my research is that he is actually quite antisocial when he's not performing. it seems like he didn't want people to know anything about him past his stage persona.

TOUR MANAGER: No one in the crew really gets to see or speak to Papa, ever. Only Anna and myself have access. He is not in the building and then he'll just be there, just for show time. The only thing you really need to know about Papa is what you see of him on stage. Ghost - The Devil's Hands (Documentary) (2017)

he almost never interacted with any of the nameless ghouls or the tour crew. in fact, he really went out of his way to avoid them. he traveled separately, would appear right before the start of a show, and then he would disappear as soon as it ended. in "The Devil's Hands", it showed they sometimes had trouble locating him when he was needed.

With this new era, can you introduce Papa Emeritus III? NAMELESS GHOUL: I don't know him very well yet. We haven't really done our mileage with him, so I am sure that we will find out. But he seems nice. He seems okay. Obviously, he's very close relatives with Papa number two, who was a little bit of a hmm. I'm sure that he isn't like, completely different, but we'll find out. He's a bit of a recluse, and he sort of travels on his own. And he sort of appears when we're due onstage and then he disappears when we're offstage. So yeah, I guess we have a little bit of a social disconnect there, but I don't see a big problem with that. I mean he seems to be doing well on his own, and I don't know if he has a little harem somewhere that occupies his time offstage, I guess. I'm assuming that. Loud TV (July 2015)

INTERVIEWER: How has it been working with the third Papa? How is he fitting into the group? NAMELESS GHOUL: We like him, actually. He seems to be quite nice. Obviously, we haven't really done our "miles" with him yet, so we don't know him that well. And he doesn't travel with us- he sort of goes separately everywhere, and he appears just before the show and then he just disappears. So we haven't really had the time to sort of fully get to know him. But overall, he seems quite a joyful chap. Metal Injection (September 2015)

predictably, his bandmates did not know him very well. but they always remarked that they liked him and that he seemed like a nice, chill guy. (they also assumed he had a harem that he spent time with when he wasn't performing, which is probably not true, considering how much effort he put into avoiding people whenever possible.)

NAMELESS GHOUL: We don't really socialize with Papa, so… But he seems nice! But he's very occupied in his harem. [...] He's a little bit cooler. He seems to be the nicer of the two brothers --I don't know if there are two-- but he seems to have, I don't know, a kinder mother, probably, or something that makes him slightly.. INTERVIEWER: A little different. NAMELESS GHOUL: Yeah, he's a little bit different. AMBY (October 2015)

i don't think his charming, pleasant demeanor was just an act, though. i think it did come from a genuine part of himself... he wasn't always an antisocial recluse.

before he became Papa, he was a cardinal in Krakow, Poland. Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis (the character representing Zbigniew Bielak, the artist who does the album art for Ghost) characterized younger Terzo as having enthusiasm in all his endeavors. he was always a very devoted member of the clergy who had big dreams of progress and modernization for the Ministry and the world. he had a strong interest in Futurist art and philosophy.

Bp. Necropolitus Cracoviensis remembers: "...our relationship goes a long way back to the times before his papacy, that is when he was still a cardinal in my hometown, in Cracovia...(...) Although we had our share of juvenile recklessness - be it indulging his beloved cream pies - allegedly verging on six hundred sixty six portions a year but that must be a rumor I believe, or wild parties at the attic of seminary school (laughs) - even in his formative years, he remained a focused man of vision, looking far into the future, always addressing his people's needs and longings to keep our church together in those turbulent, rapidly changing times (...) there were so many temptations to syndicate among our good people (...) (...) We would sit down to studying exciting Futurist manifestos, sketched the blueprints of utopian metropoles, spiked with shiny skyscrapers stabbing at the heavens belly... Wantonly swollen zeppelins would to carry our gospel of indulgence to the farthest corners of the globe to summon and enslave. (...) Forged in nostalgia of steam and fire, this brave new world of ambition, vice, lust and greed - all so inherent to the enlightened modernity, was always with him through all these years. And it is now - when our church continues to grow stronger and wealthier under wise reign of Papa Emeritus III - that these visions may finally be witnessed and embraced in the preachings of 'Meliora' - his most contemporary and humane Encyclical." (https://www.facebook.com/thebandghost/posts/994031900615606)

those core values of ambition, vice, lust, and greed stayed with him when he became Papa. though he had a revolutionary spirit, he's actually described as "less rebellious" in Metal Myths. Terzo took his job as Papa very seriously, and he cared about being successful and achieving his goals. while he and Secondo certainly had vice, lust, and greed in common, it was Terzo's ambition that truly set him apart.

"It felt like the goal was to take Papa II's sense of modernity and remove the recklessness." Metal Myths: Ghost Pt. 2 (April 2022)

How would you describe the personality of Papa Emeritus III compared to his predecessors? NAMELESS GHOUL: "First of all, Papa Emeritus III is an entertainer! He loves projectors, he loves the public, and he loves success. The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! Papa Emeritus II was a pervert a little bit sadistic, and, in hindsight, I think he wasn’t very at ease on stage. He wasn’t a showman, unlike Papa Emeritus III! Him, he’s the guide we missed to rise up the quality of our shows, to reach the step above and communicate with our fans." (MyRock #44 (2017) translated from French by @ a-wandering-ghoulette)

unfortunately, his ambition eventually led him to become disillusioned and depressed.

Terzo looked forward to becoming Papa. he worked so hard for it his whole life, only to be confronted with the realization that his time as Papa --and therefore his achievements-- would be limited.

he was a nice guy, but he was also was egotistical. he was a showman and an intellectual, and he thought very highly of himself.

NAMELESS GHOUL: He's a little bit more chill. But obviously, all the Papas are definitely pompous assholes. INTERVIEWER: That's part of the job. SPECIAL GHOUL: That's one of the criterias, the prerequisites, that you have to be this sort of flamboyant diva, know-all, show-off. Metal Injection (September 2015)

his self-hatred came from his inability to be the person he wanted to be. it's not that he felt like he couldn't measure up, it's that he felt like he wasn't allowed to express his full potential. Terzo's mindset was "i know i'm good enough. and i could prove it if they would just let me." but he wasn't really in charge, and his vision was at odds with the goals of Sister Imperator.

Terzo felt so stifled, it makes sense that he became a "frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself."

and i think this is the reason for the paradox of him having a kind, charming personality onstage and being unsociable offstage. he still gave it his all. he did the best he could with the time and resources he was allowed. that zealous man of the people was still in there somewhere. but he felt betrayed by the clergy, the organization he dedicated his life to. his career ended up being unfulfilling and he was ultimately really bitter about the way things turned out.

he was good. he never got to be great.

[mxstellatayte]

okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?

I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie

this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!

this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol

teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 8 november (🌻/🪷)

teaser below the cut!

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81

join my taglist here!

[delewlew]

i'll kick your ass, verstappen: max verstappen x black fem! reader

request: HEYYYYYYY could you do a max x fem reader when he gets jealous really bad over one of your male friends please. Love your stories keep going 🤍🤍

warnings: jealousy, slight swearing, google translated dutch

author's note: i hope you like this, i lowkey fried my brain trying to make sure i was confident enough to post this...still trying to convince myself. also the title isn't as cute cuz my gradient thingie wasn't working so it'll be plain...sorry bout that. as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated as well <3

you were in second grade when you met your best friend, nikolaas, after he moved to your school. you were assigned to be his class buddy to help him get comfortable at the new school. the two of you attended the same school all the up to university so you weren't ever really apart from one another. the two of you learned to swim and ride bikes together as little kids. he was there when you went on your first date with the cute guy in your calculus class at the ice rink near your home, and he was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your ankle right after. you were there to help him learn to slow dance before he went to his first formal dance with a girl that wasn't you. he was there to teach you how to walk in that pair of So Kate's you bought without realizing maybe there was a reason nobody but zendaya dared to wear those godforsaken heels. you were there to coach him through confessing his feelings to his first boyfriend. the two of you had experienced so much of your lives beside one another that your relationship wasn't shaken when it was time to move away from home. years passed and he was a professional model travelling the world while you were working as an architect, living in monaco.

since living in monaco you'd been promoted, moved to a nicer apartment, completed a huge project with your team, and met your boyfriend. you met max at an event you'd been invited to courtesy of your own personal connections. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you there was something different about you from other women he's met in the past. that night, you both exchanged numbers and he'd convinced you to go on a date with him shortly after.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

for the first time since you'd moved to monaco, your best friend had finally been able to take time to come visit you. he'd flown in two days ago and was staying at your apartment for a bit longer before flying out to korea for some event he was invited to. you sat on your bed and he sat across from you painting a fresh coat of nail polish over his nails since the ocean water chipped it off earlier today. his hand shook slightly as he painted his fingers and your voice cut through the silence, "nikko i swear to god if you get black nail polish on my bed i'll kill you." he looked up through his long, thick, black eyelashes and muttered, "je bent letterlijk de meest dramatische persoon die ik ooit heb ontmoet." you rolled your eyes and huffed, "whatever you love me and you know it." he cracked a smile through the focused glare he held while looking at his fingers, "yeah yeah...speaking of love, how's your man?" [you're literally the most dramatic person i've ever met]

you smiled at the thought of max and answered, "he's really good. the season has treated him well for the most part and he's happy with how things are. we're going back home for his next race so i'm excited i'll be able to see both of our families, and i'm gonna try to stop by your place to see your mom if she's there." he shook his head while keeping his eyes on his nails, "m'ma is in suriname until september because she's visiting granm'ma and granp'pa." your frowned and asked, "were you supposed to go home with her?" nikko nodded and shrugged, "it's alright though, i think i'll be able to make it down there for christmas so it's fine. plus you can see her in september when she comes back." a smile tugged on his lips and he continued, "that is if you want to come see me walk at new york, paris, milan, or london fashion week this year." you nearly tackled him into a hug and screeched, "NO FUCKING WAY- NIKKO?! YOU BOOKED ALL FOUR?!" he laughed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug, "yup i'm booked and busy this year!"

you immediately promised, "i'm going to be at every single show." your best friend nodded, "already reserved your tickets for everything." there was a beat of silence before he asked, "wait isn't max still racing in september- i don't want to make you miss those especially because you missed miami for the met gala with me." this was true, you'd flown to new york city to be nikko's plus one for the met gala but max told you he didn't mind and was happy you were going. without a second thought, only thinking of how exciting this was for your best friend, you waved off his worry, "it'll be fine. besides max likes you."

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"i don't fucking like this guy." max huffed as he scrolled though his instagram because you posted something. he looked at his screen and clenched his jaw seeing the post you'd made with your best friend.

therealyn

liked by nikko, maxverstappen1, and 643,943 others

therealyn baby's first time in monaco <3

read all 5,423 comments

nikko i wish i could stay longer :(

⤷ therealyn don't forget me when ur famous

sza cuties

⤷ therealyn omg i love you

username1 why is he so close?

⤷ username2 they've been friends since they were 7 and nikko moved to the netherlands from suriname. y/n was his first friend and they've grown up together. don't try to start something out of nothing.

⤷ username3 GET EM SIS

⤷ username4 ngl i kinda see what username1 means...if you look back at some other posts they've made with each other they're way closer than i'd consider to be best friends. i mean i personally wouldn't be that close with my guy bsf knowing i have a man.

⤷ username4 that man is a walking pride flag be so fr rn

⤷ username1 im just saying he's a little close to her. plus she's already missed a race so she can go see him, and i guarantee you she'll do the same again when fashion week comes around.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

reading the comments didn't ease max's mind whatsoever but he did catch a few that did make him realize that maybe you were just being a supportive best friend. he'd had friends go to things to support him in the past and he's done the same for them so why does he feel so...weird when you do the same? he'd managed brush off the feelings he had until he checked your story and clicked on the post you'd shared:

nikko

liked by therealyn, gucci, and 1,235,099 others

nikko but none of them will ever love you the way i do it's me and you

view all 10,302 comments

therealyn and as the years go by our friendship will never die

kendalljenner beauties

username6 ...why is he holding her like that.

⤷ username7 i think they're together? i always saw their posts together and assumed

⤷ username8 NO THEY'RE NOT TOGETHER THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS PLS DON'T START RUMORS SHE IS DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN

username9 this look a little....

username10 yall are so weird. literally every interaction nikko has with a girl looks like this, look it up and you'll see he's holding everyone's hand, wrapping their arms around them. it's just how he is pipe down.

username11 THE CAPTION? NIKOLAAS UR BOLD FOR THAT ONE

username12 ngl i kinda wanna see them as a couple

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

max fought to control his facial expressions when you called him excited to tell him about going to support nikko at the big 4 fashion weeks. he watched as your eyes sparkled, "he's already reserved the seat in my name at all of his shows too! this is so great he's always wanted to walk in these shows and now he's got the chance. i want september to already be here." max frowned at the mention of the month, "schat- i'm still racing in september though?" you explained, "well yeah it's just singapore and azerbaijan that i'll have to miss but i'll be at the rest." max bit the inside of his cheek, "didn't you already see him walk in new york back in may? you missed miami for it remember?" you smiled, "babe that was the met gala, that was different. this is actual fashion shows not a red carpet."

when max was still silent you asked, "why don't you seem happy doe nikko?" he took a small exhale to not raise his voice or seem too annoyed, "it's good for the guy i mean this is a big deal as a model. i just...sometimes i think he's just a little too close?" you frowned and you asked, "what do you mean? you've never had a problem with him before?" max sighed and admitted, "i'm just saying there's no reason why other people should be questioning our relationship status when you're with other people. why is he holding you like i hold you?" you couldn't even find the right words for a moment, "i- i- he....max you've seen the way he acts around everyone. he's a touchy guy and he always has been. why are you now bothered that he holds me? it's nothing new."

max let out another annoyed huff and snapped, "just tell him to watch himself." you couldn't even say anything before he hung up the phone on you and left you stunned to a silence. just then your phone pinged and it was another instagram notification:

nikko just posted a story!

there wasn't even a point in trying to ask nikolaas to delete the story because he was on a flight to korea right now which means he just posted it before the plane took off. so all you had to do was hope maybe max wouldn't see it because although you had no issue with the photo, you knew right now your boyfriend would.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the instagram story made it's way to his eyes in less than 5 minutes after it was posted. so, max didn't hesitate to open his own photo gallery and select a few pictures before posting them himself, he pasted a caption from the ones you'd saved in his notes and posted it before turning off his phone.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1wags, and 649,779 others

maxverstappen1 mijn

view all 3,402 comments

therealyn answer your phone

username13 HE'S MAD HE SEEN THE POSTS

username14 max....

charles_leclerc mate, you posted on your main

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know.

⤷ charlesleclerc oh!

oscarpiastri i feel like i wasn't supposed to see some of these

⤷alex_albon i don't think any of us were...

⤷ therealyn you werent.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

hot tears stung the corners of your eyes as you stared at your phone knowing full well why max posted the photos he did. you knew that he got jealous every now and again but he'd never done anything like this, especially when it came to nikolaas because he knew how close he was to you. max wasn't answering your phone calls or text messages so you had no way to actually call him.

meanwhile max was in his apartment on his sim when he heard a knock at his door. when he opened it he saw lando standing on his doorstep before he pushed his way into his apartment. max asked, "why are you in my apartment?" lando shook his head and countered, "why are you posting shit like this online?" a smug grin tugged at max's lips and he answered, "you know why."

lando sat on max's couch and responded, "i don't know why. what i do know is your girlfriend called me crying asking me why you weren't answering her calls." max huffed, "she's busy playing with that guy." lando ran a hand through his curls, "you're jealous of her best fucking friend? are you being serious right now?" max rolled his eyes and lando continued, "the guy wears nail polish and face glitter and you think something is going on between them?" when there was silence lando continued, "mate he literally flirted with charles and asked for his number when he came to zandvoort last year. then told alex that she had good taste because he wanted to quote 'drink him up and sop up the rest with a biscuit. and you think there's any way that something is happening with y/n? you can be jealous but if your girlfriend says there's no reason to worry then you should trust her. you need to fix this before something actually happens that can't be fixed." lando slapped max on the shoulder before walking out the door and heading back to his apartment.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

it was nearly 3 am when max unlocked the front door to your apartment and slipped in quietly, kicking off his shoes and leaving them by your front door. he pulled back the door and grabbed one of his t shirts and took off his pants before climbing in your bed. he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your torso. when you moved his arm off of you he knew you were awake so he mumbled, "schat..." you answered plainly, "wat wil je, max?" your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your shoulder and responded, "i'm sorry. i was wrong and i was immature and posting those pictures knowing you had them in our private folder was wrong." there was a momentary silence before you asked, "waarom heb je het dan gedaan?" he let out a deep sigh as he admitted, "i was jealous and only thinking about myself in the moment instead of thinking about how my actions would affect you as well. i never want to hurt you or be the reason for your pain, but i was so i'm sorry." [what do you want, max? // then, why did you do it?]

you felt his hand run over your arm gently as you asked, "wat ga je doen om het te repareren?" max answered, "well i deleted the post first and came here to apologize second. also i'd love to see you go to london, paris, new york, and milan to support nikko in september. i'll be waiting at home for you the minute you get back." you turned to face him and opened your eyes, finding his gaze in the darkness. bringing your hand to his cheek you asked, "i never want you to think that anyone stands a chance at competing with you for my heart, maxie. you are my person and i only love you this way, i only want to be with you. there's only you in my heart and i need you to trust me when i say that, okay?" max leaned into your touch and nodded, before you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "i love you." he pulled you to his chest and tangled his legs with yours as he replied, "ik houd ook van jou." you nuzzled closer to him and brought a hand to his chest, tracing small patterns over his heart. both of you began to drift off to sleep, your voice cut through the silence, "but do that shit again and i'm kicking your ass, verstappen." max let out a small chuckle and admitted, "i don't doubt that, but you don't have to worry about it happening again." [what are you going to do to fix it?//i love you too.]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the end.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

It would be so cute if you could write about harry and yn being together since highschool and they were each others first everything and they got married very early and just their live together now yk

From Here To Eternity.

a/n: thank you to the very kind anon that requested this blurb, it was definitely a fun one to write and i’m sorry it took so long to post! fyi i’m absolutely terrible at writing smut so please don’t come at me🫶

masterlist || ask me anything <3

likes and re-blogs are very much appreciated!!

word count - 9.8k

in which, harry and you first met on your first day of secondary school, and since then your lives have always revolved around each other. she’s been there through everything, his x-factor audition, when the band first rose to fame, when they went on a hiatus and when he made it big as a solo star. they were each others first everything’s, and that made the whole ordeal just that more special.

September 4th, 2009 — the first meeting.

On the first day of secondary school, your nerves were through the roof. The fact that your hands were shaking was not helping the factor that you knew absolutely no one in this school.

You were absolutely terrified of being late to your classes and having to do the walk of shame towards your desk as everyone stared at you.

Walking down the hallway, you happened to spot a boy with brown curly hair, he was putting something away in his locker and a focused look on his face.

“Excuse me,” You gained his attention as you walked over to him, his snapping over to me. “I was wondering if you happened to know where room 102 was?”

He closed his locker behind him and stood up straighter. “— yeah I do, I’m heading there myself in a minute, what’s your name? M’Harry?”

Relief showered your body knowing that you had found someone to talk to and someone you could walk into class with. “My names (Y/N)”

“So are you new here?”he asked, gripping a hold of his backpack that was over his shoulder, it blended in with your school uniform.

You nodded your head. “—yeah we moved from Liverpool, today's my first day.”

“So what classes do you have today?” Harry asked as you tried not to bump into students in your way.

You glanced down at the timetable that was in your hands and let out a small groan. “I’ve got Math, English, Religious Studies and then Science”

Harry let out a small laugh. “— I’ve got the same, looks like we’re going to be in the same classes”

Thank god.

At least you would know someone in your classes through the day and wouldn’t have to feel like a loner.

“Maths is definitely my favourite subject,”Harry continued on smiling at the thought of his favourite subject. “What’s yours?”

“Oh I’m absolutely terrible at maths,”You shook your head before pondering an answer to his previous question. “— I think my favourite subject may be pe.”

As the two of you walked towards the class (more like you following behind him like a little bit of a lost puppy) you continued to chet about your favourite hobbies.

You found out that he was part of a music group named ‘White Eskimo’ and he had even invited you to rage along to one of their practices when you had time.

You found yourself laughing at the little jokes that he seemed to slip into the conversation and you felt a lot more at ease about the school day ahead.

By the time you both arrived at the door of the classroom, you felt your throat go dry upon seeing your Maths teacher Mr.Jones already reaching the class.

Not only had you made yourself late, you had now dragged your new friend down to your depths.

Great.

Harry tried to quietly open the door, hoping not to disturb the class but the teacher had already snapped their head over to see the two of you entering the room.

Mr.Jones raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Late on the first day back?”

Your new friend looked down at the ground slightly. “—M’sorry,Sir.”

The teacher let out a sigh before turning their attention over to you and eyeing you up carefully. “Who's your friend?”

“My names (Y/N), I’m new here and Harry helped me get here, it’s my fault we’re late.”I tried to explain to the teacher who just pushed there glasses further up the bridge of there nose.

“Well (Y/N) and Harry, go ahead and take the seats at the back of the class for me.”Mr.Jones nodded there head over to the two empty seats you were expected to occupy.

As the two of you sat down in the seats, you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and felt your face flush a soft shade of pink.

Being late on your first day wasn’t so teething you expected to do. But they couldn’t really blame you.

You just didn’t want to make a bad first impression.

“I’m sorry about making you late.”You apologised to Harry, as you grabbed a pencil from your pencil case.

Harry waved you off with a reassuring smile. “— it’s all good.”

As the lesson progressed on you and Harry shared notes about the syllabus you were learning, helping each other with the work as much as you could without the teacher calling you out for speaking.

“Thanks for letting me sit next to you, you didn’t have to.” you muttered to Harry who was flicking through the textbook.

He smiled at you. “— honestly, it’s been my pleasure, and can’t wait to see where this friendship goes.”

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April 2nd, 2010 — Prom.

When Harry had invited you round his house on Saturday, you thought absolutely nothing of it.

Since you first started year eleven, you and Harry were quick to become best friends and would often go round each other's houses on the weekend and have a sleepover until Sunday.

When he opened the door after hearing you knock on it, you could instantly pick up on how nervous he was due to the fact his fingers were curled up into a fist.

“Hi, H!”you greeted him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

There was no doubt that over the course of your friendship that you hadn’t thought about him in another way.

You spent every school day together since you started and most weekends together as well unless you were doing something with your families.

Harry opened the door a bit more. “— hey, come on in.”

Once inside, Harry led you out to the back garden seeing as it was a warm summer's day, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Until your eyes landed on the set up.

A picnic had been set up and a red and white chequered blanket was laid out on the greenery. A bowl of fruit in the middle with some sandwiches laid out as well.

“Wow..Harry,”you breathed out. “— what’s all this for?”

“I was thinking about Prom and how we weren’t too sure about if we should go,”he explained, sitting down on the blanket with you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “— I wanted to ask if you would be my Prom date? I wanted it to be special.”

Did you hear him right?

He wants you to be his prom date?

“Really?”was all I managed to speak, still trying to wrap my head around his question.

He nodded his head. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I can’t deny that I like you, we’re friends and going to prom together would be the first step into getting something more.”

Was this way of him saying he liked you?

Holy fucking moly.

“You like me?”

He smirked at you. “— isn’t that obvious?”

He took a sip of strawberry water from his cup. “So what do you say? Will you be my prom date?”

You flushed a shade of red making him let out a small laugh. “I would love to be your prom date!”

When Prom night finally came around, your nerves were skyrocketing.

You stood at the top of the stairs after hearing from your mum who was peering out the windows that your prom date had arrived and was eagerly awaiting for your prom dress to get revealed, so that he could like you even more.

You took in a small inhale of air before your heel clad feet started making their way down the stairs, hand holding onto the railing so that you didn’t fall and trip, and that was when you saw him.

Harry.

He was wearing a grey suit, with a white crisp shirt underneath as well as a matching grey suit vest and a black bow tie to compliment the outfit even more, his hair was styled the exact same with his unruly curls framing his face and had some black shoes on his feet.

“Wow,”Harry’s mouth gaped as he stared at you, “— you look beautiful!”

You had no idea that you would be matching colours seeing as you hadn’t even known what each other was going to wear.

This was complete coincidence.

Your dress was a light grey strapless dress with a long skirt that was layered. There was a sprinkling of light pink flowers embroidered onto the torso of the dress to add the slightest pop of colour.

Your cheeks flushed. “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

Your mother was standing next to your father at the bottom of the stairs as well, a camera was in her hands as Harry came and stood next to you, placing a hand on your hip and bringing you in closer to him.

“The two of you look lovely.”Your mother complimented as she continued to take photos.

“Thanks mom.”You let out a small groan of embarrassment as Harry let out a small laugh.

Your father clapped Harry on the back as the two of you made your way towards the front door, he was grinning at him. “— take care of my daughter tonight, Harry.”

“I will Mr. (Y/L/N)”Harry let out a nervous chuckle.

After the two of you had said your goodbyes to your parents, Harry who had just passed his drivers test grabbed his keys out of his pocket and opened your car door for you like a true gentleman.

Once the both of you were in the seats, Harry turned to look at you with a look of fondness. “You really do look beautiful by the way.”

“And you really do look handsome.”You told him in truth, tucking a curl out of his eyes.

The drive to the venue was one filled with laughter and comfortableness when the two of you arrived at the venue, strobe lights were lining up the exterior as a red carpet was rolled out.

Throughout the entire night, you and Harry continued to dance, moving your bodies and that was when you realised just how charming and considerate Harry really was.

All in all you had a great time together.

As the night drew to a close and prom king and queen was announced, Harry placed a hand on the small of your back as the final slow dance of the evening took place.

“How would you feel if I took you on a real date sometime?”

Your heart skipped a beat and your stomach felt as if butterflies had taken home there. “— I would feel privileged.”

What a great way to end the night.

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June 17th, 2010 — the first time.

“If you're not ready to do this…''Harry panted out as you wrapped your arms around his neck from where you were laying underneath him, both of you in nothing but your knickers. “…then we don’t have to, I’m not pressuring you into doing anything.”

“I really want to do this,”you whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. “— there’s no one else I would rather be doing this with, I trust you Harry, baby.”

After your first date, you and Harry had been on five more before he asked you to be his girlfriend and after dating for two months you finally figured out that you were both ready to take the next big step in your relationship.

Harry nodded his head and started leaving kisses down her jaw, and lower down her neck, making you squirm slightly in his grip.

He slowly pulled the waistband of your knickers down from your hips and gradually down your leg making you wish he would simply hurry up.

“God, you're making me melt over here, babe.” Harry complimented as he took sight of your bare core, glistening and all for him.

He was a virgin also, so that factor made this even more special.

“Please..please har..Harry.”you whined, head thrown back as his hand teased at your bud of nerves, he tried not to whine as well at seeing you like this.

Your first time was together.

He was getting you ready for him and that made you even more nervous.

The condom was on his length before you even got a chance to blink.

His length was bulky and there was a large vein leading up to the top of his penis, where a drop of pre cum was starting to form.

Harry laced your fingers together as he slowly entered your soaking core.

It wasn’t as painful as you had imagined but it was definitely uncomfortable.

It would take a lot of getting used to.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feeling and knowing that the moisture was all because of him and no one else.

“You feel so good (Y/N).”Harry groaned as he thrusted in and out of you at a gentle pace.

You reached your hand up and pulled at his curls as moans and groans fell from both of your lips and filled his bedroom.

He kissed you with everything he had, and that was what solidified the deal for you.

You loved him.

Your legs tightened and your stomach copied.

“Let go, sweet girl,”Harry spoke softly, making a tear fall down your cheek at the pleasure you were currently facing. “— come for me, babe.”

“Let go, let go for me, sweet girl.” A wave of ecstasy rolled over your body as you came undone and felt his lips against your feverish skin.

Harry pressed a kiss to your lips. “— I love you (Y/N) I love you so much.”

Your pants made it hard to figure things out around you but you had definitely heard what he had said.

He loves you?

Harry Edward Styles really said he loved you.

You let out a small breath. “I love you Harry, I really do.”

There’s definitely a right place to say things like this and this was definitely the place.

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August 6th, 2010 — the news.

“I’ve got some news.”

You tilted your head to the side as you laid down next to Harry on the hammock in his garden, your legs entwined and your head rested on his chest.

You lifted your head up slightly. “What’s the news?”

“You know how you and mum are always saying that I’ve got a good voice?” He asked, running a hand up and down your arm.

You nodded at him as an answer, you did really think that he had a good voice, you would often hear him singing to himself getting changed in the mornings you would sleep over, you would hear him singing you to sleep at night when you were a little bit restless.

He was even part of ‘White Eskimo’ so if he was the frontman of a band then he obviously had a good voice.

“Well I think I’m going to audition for X-factor.”

You sat up completely, eyes wide as his words registered in your brain.

“You're going to audition for X-factor?”You exclaimed, “— as in the show with Louis Walsh and Dermot O Leary?”

He nodded his head. “I’ve been practising non stop, you hear me singing all the time, so it only seems like the right thing to do.”

“I’m really excited for you!” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his cheek out of pure affection.

“Do you have an idea about what you're going to sing?” You mused, staring at him softly.

“Yeah, I want to sing something that really showcases my voice so I’ve been thinking ‘Hey Soul Sister’.”

One of your favourite songs.

“That’s a really good song, H.” you informed him, lacing your fingers together. “— you're going to do absolutely amazing.”

He hummed. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” You assured him, the sun shining down on your skin to give it a nice sun kissed glow. “— and I’m always here if you ever want help practising.”

He laughed, throwing his head back slightly at your words, you both knew that you were a very bad singer so just the thought of you helping him out seemed funny.

“I’ll definitely consider that.”

Over the next few weeks leading up to the audition, you would hear Harry singing every chance he got.

Whether that be in the shower, in the car on the way to school, and sometimes when you stayed over you could swear that you heard him singing in his sleep.

But that only showed his dedication to impress the judges.

And that hard work definitely paid off.

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February 19th, 2013 — gaining permission.

It was a warm summer’s evening when Harry approached the front door of your childhood home.

His nerves were high as he raised his fist to knock against the wood, his mind still rehearsing everything that he was about to say to him.

After hearing someone knock against the front door, your father raised his eyebrows and went ahead towards it, opening it up and coming face to face with your boyfriend of nearly three years.

“Hello Mr. (Y/L/N)”Harry greeted the man he called a second father and offered him a grin.

Your father and Harry shook hands. “— Afternoon, Harry.”

You had absolutely no idea that Harry was going round to speak to your father tonight seeing as you were on a girls weekend with a few friends from school, and so Harry thought this would be the best time to speak to him, without you wondering where he was.

The timing was perfect really.

“I came to talk to you about something really important, if that’s alright with you.”Harry explained, his palms suddenly becoming slightly sweaty.

Your father invited him into the home and they both settled down on the sofas in the living room, Harry began speaking seeing as he couldn’t hold it off anymore.

"Mr. (Y/L/N), I know we're young, but I can't imagine my future without your daughter," Harry stated as he sat across from your dad.

"I appreciate your honesty, Harry. But marriage is a big commitment. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Your dad replied, folding his arms.

When Harry was placed as a member of One Direction, he didn’t think that his life would change drastically, he had heard stories of boy bands and their girlfriends always having a hard time, but you and Harry were beating all the odds.

The two of you were stronger than ever.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered confidently. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love her so much and I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy."

Your dad leaned back in his chair, contemplating Harry’s words. "Well, I have to say, I'm impressed with your sincerity. It's not often you see such devotion in young people these days. Alright, I'll give you my blessing."

The singer let out a sigh of relief and a smile spread across his face. "Thank you, sir! I'll do my best to make her happy every day."

As Harry stood up to leave, your dad stopped him. "One more thing, James. Promise me that you'll take care of her. She's my little girl and I love her more than anything in this world."

"I promise, sir," Harry replied, nodding his head earnestly. "I'll always be there for her and do whatever it takes to make her happy."

As Harry left, your dad couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. He knew that his daughter was in good hands with a man who loved her so deeply.

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March 1st, 2013 — the pier.

Coming to the pier was a bit of a last time for you and Harry.

It held a lot of memories for the two of you.

When you would spend the nights round his house on the weekends, you would sneak out of the house and go and spend some time at the arcades at the end of the pier, he even won you a stuffed unicorn once.

You had gone there after prom when he asked you out on a proper date to stare at the stars as they rested in the sky,

After your fifth date, Harry had brought you to the pier and asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend.

You had been on the pier when he told you that he was put in One Direction, you weren’t allowed to be at that audition because your parents said that school was more important, you were there when he told you that his life was about to change drastically.

As you and Harry walked along the pier, he held your manicured hand tightly.

“So how was your day, baby?” You quizzed him, swinging your hands back and forth slightly.

“It was good,”Harry replied, “— busy with getting things ready for the tour, but it was good overall.”

You knew how hard he and the rest of the boys were working so that they could get everything ready for the tour they were about to embark on, you were tagging along as well so that you could spend as much time with Harry as possible.

“I can imagine,”you offered him a small smile. “How’s all that going?”

“I think it’s going well, to be honest.”he squeezed your hand as you continued walking down the pier. “— we’re just working on nailing the set list and then everything should be ready to go.”

As the two of you walked, the topic of conversation shifted from work to your family and then to finally what you both wanted your future to look like.

Over the years you had learned to feel comfortable with speaking to Harry about everything and anything.

“Speaking of the future,” He spoke, making you glance over at him, your eyes locking. “— what do you see in our future?”

You had thought about an answer to this question for a while now and contemplated telling him, but now seemed like the appropriate time to say it.

“I definitely see us having a happy, loving life together,”you began to answer, breathing softly. “Maybe a house, marriage and definitely some kids, you’d be a great dad.”

Harry’s heart swelled after hearing your words. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

The two of you gazed out at the moonlit waves crashing below the wooden slats that were holding the pier up.

Finally, you reached the end of the pier where Harry stopped and turned to face you.

"(Y/N), I know we're only young," he began, "but I love you more than anything in this world. These past three years have been the happiest of my life and I can't imagine spending my future with anyone else."

Your heart was pounding as she stared into Harry’s forest green orbs that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight.

"H, I love you too," you replied, your voice shaking slightly.

“Sweetheart, you're my best friend, actually your more than that, your my whole world, my absolute reason to wake up every morning, you’ve been by my side through all the hardships and to say you’ve made me a better man would one hundred percent be the understatement of the century.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, trying to regulate your breathing as your ears started ringing as you stared at the man you adored.

Your eyes widened as you watched Harry kneel down on one knee and pull out a small velvet box from his pocket. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Marriage.

Harry wanted you to be his wife.

You could barely see him through the tears that were falling from your eyes, but you could make out that he was crying as well.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes, of course, I will!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms around Harry’s neck.

Once the two of you broke away from the hug, he slipped the ring from the box onto your finger, both hands shaking from the adrenaline currently coursing through their body.

The two of you embraced tightly, feeling each other's heartbeat as the gentle breeze swirled around you. For you and Harry, this moment felt like the beginning of forever.

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August, 2014 — I do.

You took in a deep breath as you stood at the end of the altar next to your father, your arm linked with his as your other hand held a bouquet of flowers.

When the familiar chords of one of your and Harry’s favourite songs rang out throughout the small registery office that the two of you had decided to get wed at, that was when you realised that this was really happening.

You were getting married.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Your father asked you, head tilted to the side.

You took in a hesitant small breath as you nodded at the words your father had just spoken. “Honestly, this is as ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nodded his head at your words before opening the doors to the side of the room, your breath hitched in your throat.

Your groom lifted his head when he heard whispers filling up the room and that was all the clarification he needed to know that you were present.

He hesitantly lifted his head and salt water instantly filled his orbs.

You looked astonishing.

It felt as if it was just the two of you in the room, your eyes remained locked on each other as you got closer and closer, the moment was pure and heartwarming.

Harry’s curls had grown out since your engagement on the pier so they were pushed back by a simple headband, so they didn’t block his view of you and he was adorning a suit of black colour, a white frilled shirt underneath as a thin silk black tie hung around his neck.

Your wedding dress was what you had always dreamed your dress would look like on your special day. It was Lacey and hung loosely to your figure in certain areas, flowers embroidered the sleeves and around your collar.

As your heel clad feet came to a stop by your soon to be husband, your father left a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, before taking a seat at the front two next to your mother as well as Harry’s parents and sister.

Your hand slipped into Harry’s and he rubbed soft circles on the back of it to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

“You look beautiful, m’love.”Harry whispered as his own eyes filled with more tears.

The officiant glanced around at the people around you that were gathered in the small room before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

“(Y/N) and Harry have decided to write their own vows as a declaration of there love for one another as well as there marriage,” the man began, looking down at the notes in his hands.

You and Harry locked gazes with each other and both offered each other a small smile, this was really happening.

“God, Harry I don’t even know where to begin,”you looked down at the piece of paper in your hand that was filled with your handwriting.

“— just for this day, I had to Google what the definition of a soulmate was but then I realised I didn’t have to. You were the definition. Plain and Simple. When we first met our first conversation was me asking you for directions, but over the past three years of getting to know you and fall continuously in love with you, I have come to known that you have showed me new directions of life, directions I didn’t think I would see unless I hadn’t of met you. You continue to make me proud and that’s one of the main reasons I love you.”

You glanced up at him when you had finished reading your vows and watched as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Harry turned to look at the small gathering of people you had invited to be here for this special moment, and a wet chuckle fell from his lips. “How on earth am I supposed to beat that?”

He turned back to look at you, unfolding a piece of paper from his shit pocket and starting to read aloud. “— My sweet girl, m’love, when we first started dating, straight from the get go I had promised to cherish you from then on out, from our first meeting you instantly captured my heart, you’ve made me a better person, and for that I simply can’t thank you enough, your all I ever want and more, I love you and will continue to love you as long as my heart remains beating.”

There was definitely not a dry eye in sight when Harry had finished reading.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), do you take Harry Edward Styles to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward?”

“I do.”

“And do you Harry Edward Styles take (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward?”

“Of course I bloody do!”

Harry’s best man, his stepfather Robin Twist steps forward from where he’s sat next to Anne, offering both of you the rings.

The ring slipped onto Harry’s finger effortlessly.

His hands worked delicately to slip yours on.

The officiant smiled adoringly. “— with the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride!”

Harry didn’t waste a second in bringing his lip balmed lips down against yours, as the taste of strawberry filled your senses, the kiss was one full of tenderness and love.

It was all official.

You were now Mrs. (Y/N) Styles.

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June 18th, 2015 — the delivery.

"I'm here!"

You looked up from the hospital bed you were currently laying on to see your husband run into the room, his eyes wide as he assessed the situation.

You were laid on the hospital bed, tears falling freely down your cheeks as your mother crouched at your bed side holding your hand and soothing you.

"H..Harry…"You spoke, voice coming out dry and hoarse.

The man rushed to your side, taking a hold of your hand and pushing some of the hair that had dried around your forehead out of your face. "— it's okay sweet girl, it's all okay. I'm here now"

Your mother gulped and looked down at the two of you. "I'll wait outside, give the two of you some space"the older women turned to look at her daughter. "You've got this (Y/N)"

Got what exactly?

Let’s answer that question.

You and Harry never really got to have a proper honeymoon after your wedding, due to the fact he was touring and didn’t have enough time to change the plans when they surrounded the band and management.

So almost six months ago, the band had decided to go on a little break near Christmas time so that they could spend the new years at home with their families and so you and Harry went back to holmes chapel.

And on Christmas Eve, the two of you christened the night and an explosion of love was formed.

You got pregnant.

And now, not even near the full term of pregnancy, your waters had broken when you were on a coffee date with your mother, your nerves were heightened especially when you had four months left in your pregnancy.

Once your mother had left the room, you turned to look at your husband, swallowing roughly. "I can't do it Harry..it's too early..they're not gonna make it!"

"Don't think like that, everything's going to be fine, I promise.” and with that he pressed a kiss to your damp cheek, grabbing ahold of your hand and rubbing the back of it softly.

Suddenly, you pinched her eyes shut and let out one of the most ear piercing painful cries Harry had ever heard, his heart beating erratically against his rib cage.

He stood up. "— I'm going to go and get some help alright..i'll be back as soon as possible"

He ran out of the room his wife was in and towards the reception area, his eyes landing on nurses who were sat there talking away. "— I need some help..my wife's having our baby"

You were clutching your stomach when Harry sprinted back into the room and resumed his position next to you, the nurses coming in followed by a doctor all smiling at you in the bed.

"Hi Mrs Styles, my names Dr Armstrong and I'll be helping you deliver your baby today, to make this experience as calm as possible, I'm going to need you to lift up your legs for me so I can check how dilated you are"

"You've got this"Harry whispered, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear.

You hesitated for a few seconds due to the fact the only person that had ever looked between your legs was harry, and the thought of any other man seemed daunting, but after Harry gave you a gentle look you slowly raised your legs up so they were bent on the bed and watched with watery eyes as the doctor slipped some latex gloves on his hand before slowly placing his hands between your legs.

The doctor then pulled his hands back, Harry letting his eyes fall on the blood on the top of the gloves, the doctor muttering a few things to the nurses, who then walked over to the other side of the room and started picking up blankets and towels.

What was happening?

"Mrs Styles, Mr Styles"the doctor cleared his throat. "— this probably isn't what the two of you were expecting but this baby is coming rather fast, and when I say fast I mean very, very fast"

Harry gulped and shook his head. "But she's only five months, surely that's not right"

The doctor smiled at the soon to be father. "That is very soon yes sir, but I have delivered babies much sooner than five months, and if we do everything right and take our time everything should be fine, I assure you"

The words just made your throat go even more dry, like sandpaper upon hearing that you were ten centimetres dilated and was soon going to be having the baby which just sent a sense

of dread to vibrate throughout your body.

"I don't want to do this Harry," You cried. "I don't want to do this..I can't"

Harry stroked a hand through your hair that was sticking to your forehead. "— you can do this sweet girl, I know you can, wouldn't have put our sweet baby in you if I didn't"

You nodded your head with all the energy that you could muster up and sat up a little bit further in the bed, your tight grip on Harry’s hand only getting tighter.

"Okay Mrs Styles, give me a nice gentle push."the doctor instructed, the nurses coming over to be on standby.

The next contraction hits your body and you ground your teeth together as you push, putting all the counter pressure in your hips.

Pushing kind of felt like when you were going to the toilet, only this was much more painful.

Tears continued to slide down your cheeks, Harry’s slightly calloused hands rubbing across her own as his own eyes welled with tears seeing the girl he loved and adored in so much pain.

"That was so good Mrs Styles,"the doctor complimented. "You're doing so well, repeat what you just did for me when your next contraction occurs, okay?"

Harry kissed your temple, just as another contraction ripped through your body, making it feel as though you were on fire.

"I can see the head."

The voices were numb to your ears, seeing as you were too busy focusing on pushing, your teeth were gritted together as your head was tucked down to your chest.

"We're so close to meeting them Sweet girl, so close,"Harry encouraged, looking in the eyes of his wife whose eyes were black.

The usual colour were filled with a pain filled black.

"The next push and you should have your baby, give me a big push Mrs Styles."

You pushed, this one feeling much longer than the others, keeping a white knuckle grip on Harry’s hand.

And that's when you heard it.

A cry filled the room, a literal babies cry.

Your and Harry’s babies cry.

"Is everything okay?"Harry quizzed, not removing his hand from your sweaty grasp.

You watched as the doctor nodded his head, letting his eyes flicker from between the two. "— congratulations Mr and Mrs Styles, you have a beautiful baby boy."

A boy.

You had a son.

A beautiful baby boy who was your’s forever.

"Would you like some skin to skin contact with your son, Mrs Styles?"Dr Armstrong asked, holding the baby in his arms.

"Yes please."You answered, perhaps a bit too quickly.

The doctor walked forward and gently laid the baby against your bare chest, moving the hospital gown out of the way.

The second your sweet baby boy was placed against your chest, you couldn't help but loud out a few cries.

Sobs even.

It may have been a bit earlier than the two of you expected, but now you simply wouldn't change it for the world.

The Styles were complete.

Harry couldn't help but let a tear fall down his cheeks, not bothering to wipe it away.

This is all he had worked for, and now it was finally here he couldn't be happier.

"Do we have a name?"one of the nurses asked, smiling at the sight of the mother holding the baby.

You locked eyes with Harry. "You tell them sweet boy"

Harry swallowed and nodded his head, not letting his eyes falter from the baby boy attached to his wife's bare chest.

"August,"he spoke. "— August Harry Styles."

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July 2nd, 2015 — the announcement.

As Harry Styles sat down for his interview, his long hair cascaded down his shoulders as he sat with the rest of the boys on the James Corden Show, a striped shirt hugging his body made of different shades of blue silk, with some black skinny jeans and a pair of chelsea boots.

He greeted James with a warm smile and sat down in the middle of Niall and Louis, he couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. It had been a while since he had spoken to the press, and he knew that they would have a lot of questions for him.

The first few questions were easy enough - how was his music career going? What were his plans for the future? But then, James asked him the question he had been dreading.

A question regarding his son.

Harry couldn’t be mad at James, it was his job after all and he knew for a fact that it was bound to come up one day, James was his friends, he wasn’t alone in the interview seeing as he was surrounded by his band mates, so he didn’t really have a factor to worry about.

"Harry, there have been rumours circulating that you have a son. Can you confirm or deny these rumours?"

Harry took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera. "I can confirm that the rumours are true," he said, his voice steady.

The host raised an eyebrow. "Can you tell us more about your son? How old is he?"

"He's just a baby," Harry replied, not wanting to really give away much about him. "I don't want to get into too many details, but he's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me."

And it was true.

Just over three weeks ago, little Auggie flew into there lives and made them just that much better than they already were.

The sleepless nights brought the two of you closer,

Nappy changes brought the two of you closer,

And baby sick made the two of you closer.

The interview continued, but Harry's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just revealed a major secret. What would people think of him now that they knew he was a father?

But when Harry left the studio and checked his phone, he was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from his fans.

They sent him messages telling him how happy they were for him and how much they respected him for being honest.

In the end, Harry realised that being a dad was nothing to be ashamed of - it was something to be proud of. And with his fans by his side, he knew he could handle anything that came his way.

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25th May, 2023 — tour life.

Touring with your husband whilst he completed his last leg of tour was something you would never get over.

Especially now that you had two little munchkins touring with you, it made you think of all the different places the two of them would get to visit at such young ages.

Your little August was weeks away from turning seven and recently you had welcomed a little girl into the family, well not really recently.

A little girl named Margot.

Margot ‘gigi’ Anne Styles.

Touring was amazing, you got to spend all day surrounded by the people you adored to the end of the earths.

You were currently in Edinburgh.

And the two of you had woken up early due to your teething newborn and decided to head down to the hotel gym whilst it wasn’t busy and get in a little workout alongside your husband to try and get your body back to its pre baby shape.

Whilst you got ready and pumped some milk that Margot would be eating later, Harry had taken the kids down to the gym with him and told you to meet him there as that would be easier.

It really was.

As you walked into the gym, your eyes instantly landed on your husband Harry who was on a treadmill, already working up a sweat.

Seeing him working out always seemed to do something to you, and you have no idea why.

Maybe it was because you liked the look of the way the sweat would be rolling down his skin and making it sticky.

Or the way his hair stuck to his temple making him even look more delicious.

Almost ten years of marriage and you still got fireworks erupting your body whenever you were in his presence.

You smiled to yourself as you made your way over to him.

"Hey there good looking," You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, making him freeze slightly before registering that it was you and smiling softly to himself.

"Hey m’love," he replied, slowing down the treadmill to join you, he leant over the handles of the machine and leaned down so that you were the same height.

"How's it going?"

"It's good. I’m knackered, but it’s good,Just trying to keep in shape for our little ones," he said, pointing to your son August, who was playing in the corner and drawing in his notebook, whilst your eight-month-old daughter Margot, who was asleep in her stroller, thumb in her mouth and head pulled to the side.

"I know what you mean. It's crazy how much our lives have changed since we got married," You answered, wiping down the machine before hopping on and starting up on the treadmill with a brisk walk.

"Yeah, it's wild to think about. But I wouldn't change a thing. We have a beautiful family and I'm so proud of everything we've accomplished," he said, glancing over at the kids, a smile involuntarily making its way onto his face.

"Me too," You agreed, adjusting my speed so that you were now in a slow jog. "Sometimes I can't believe we went from being just two kids in love to parents of two."

It really did blow your mind sometimes.

You remember the first time that you met Harry and your nerves skyrocketed. You were new to the school and knew absolutely no one, so when you and him became friends, it was like the two of you were meant to be.

But now, through all the good and the bad, the two of you had made it out on top, through all the hate from his fans, and all the hardships you now had the most perfect family, one that you would be able to cherish for the rest of your life.

"I know, right? But we make it work and we make each other better. And that's all that matters," Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek before hopping back into his workout mode, matching your pace on the machine.

The two of you continued to work out, talking about the things you normally would, like what dreams you had during the night and what you wanted to do the day before his tour.

“I was thinking we could take the kids to a cafe for lunch today,” You suggested, taking a break on the machine to take a sip out of your water bottle. “— I was thinking it would be something different, I don’t want the kids to get bored, y’know?”

Harry pondered the idea for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

It wasn’t long before you were all heading out for cafe.

It was a warm and sunny afternoon when you l, Harry and the kids approached the cosy little cafe in the heart of the Scottish city.

After your little gym session this morning, you and Harry had both gone back to the hotel room, had some showers and then got yourselves and the kids ready.

Harry was wearing a dark grey t-shirt with some pastel coloured designs on the front of it, blue ripped jeans hugging his legs accessorised with a pair of blue and white chequered vans, a blue cap and his iconic white bug eyed sunglasses over his face.

Harry had gotten Margot ready this morning, as you were in the shower. She was wearing a dark green romper, with a nice white bow headband pushing her curls out of her face, some knee high white socks adorning her feet.

After making sure that August was ready, his outfit consisted of a beige coloured oversized shirt, a cap on his hat so that he could match his daddy and a cap so he could match his daddy, and a pair of black shorts on his legs.

Once all of the kids were ready, it was then your time to get ready for the day. You shifted through the suitcase containing your clothes and decided on a simple outfit. It consisted of a pink oversized jumper paired with a matching pink pair of cycling shorts, some sunglasses and a pair of trainers on your feet.

It seemed like forever until you were all ready to leave the room.

As you made your way inside the cafe, you could see August's eyes light up with excitement as he eyed the pastry display case.

A worker greeted the four of you as you approached the counter, pulling your sunglasses up so that they were resting on the top of your head.

Your little boy turned to look at you with puppy dog eyes. "Mommy, can I have a chocolate croissant?"

"Sure, sweetie,” You nodded your head, adjusting your hands that were resting on the stroller handles as they were getting a bit sweaty. “— But just one, okay?"

You really didn’t want to deal with him having a stomach ache if he ate too many Pan Au Chocolates.

All the food sounded so good.

"I think I'm going to get a sandwich,” Your Husband spoke.

“What about you, baby?" Your husband spoke up, looking at the menu that was hung above your heads.

"I'll have a panini, I think,” You told him, turning to look at him and offering him a small smile. “And Margot is just going to have some pureed veggies."

You placed our order and then proceeded to sit down at a cosy table by the window, the sun beating through the windows. Little Margot comfortably nestled in her stroller beside you and Harry whilst August sat on the other side of the round table so that he was also next to both of you.

It was filled with small talk whilst you waited for your order to arrive at the table, the Scottish weather really was amazing this time of year.

"Daddy, did you know that I spelt a really big word with Mrs. Addams today?" August piped up, leaning forward in his seat eagerly.

August was coming up to seven so that meant that he would have already started school, but due to the fact you and the kids were touring the world with Harry that means he wasn’t able to go to school as much as he would have liked.

So in order for him to continue his studies, you and Harry both agreed that a teacher coming on tour with the two of you would be what’s best, and so far it’s been really good.

There’s been times where August’s kicked off about being too tired to learn but Harry being his father just learns that he inherited his stubbornness.

August was definitely a daddy’s boy through and through, in personality and appearance, he definitely had a little bit of separation anxiety when it came to Harry, but that was totally plausible due to the fact he was away for work quite a lot.

When Margot came into the world, she completed your family, she filled a void that the three of you didn’t know were missing and made your hearts just that much fuller.

Both children were spitting images of their father, you wouldn’t think that you were the one that carried them at all.

They both had his iconic brown curls (Auggie’s were a bit more longer due to the fact he had seen a photo of Harry with long hair and insisted he grow it out.) they had his green eyes that you fell in love with, and had his dimples and bunny teeth.

“Really? That's amazing!” Your husband gushed, reaching forward to fist bump his son with a proud smile on his face. “— What word did you spell?"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

"Wow, that's quite a mouthful,”Harry leaned forward to press a kiss against his mini me’s forehead. “I'm proud of you, buddy."

August smiled at his fathers words before you all began to chat about something else.

As the four of you chatted and waited for your food to arrive, Margot began to fuss and squirm in her stroller.

"Looks like someone's getting hungry,” You went to stand up and go to her aid, her veggie purée that was in the baby bag under the stroller. “Let me get her a bottle."

"I can do it, love,” Harry grabbed a hold of your wrist softly, and stood himself up to approach the stroller “You stay here and eat. I'll take care of Gigi."

You smiled gratefully at your husband as he took Margot out of her stroller and sat her down on his lap as he started feeding her the purée you had made this morning in the hotel room while August and you chatted about what he wanted to do for the rest of the day.

As you finished your lunch, Harry chuckled and began to speak, "I don't think I've ever been surrounded by this much cuteness before."

That was true, your kids were the absolute cutest and the two of you weren’t biassed at all.

“And we wouldn't have it any other way." You sighed contentedly, they were your entire world, without the kids and Harry you're not sure what you would be doing right now.

With full bellies and happy hearts, you gathered your things and headed back out into the bustling city, ready to take on the rest of the day together as a family.

As you left the cafe in Edinburgh, you watched as Harry pushed Margot’s stroller, and held August’s hand so that he was close to you. You could see the fans waiting outside, and knew that you had to be careful.

As you made your way to the car, the fans started to call out your husband's name. "We love you, Harry!" they would shout.

You could feel August's grip on your hand tightening. He was scared, and you didn't blame him. You had been going out with Harry for thirteen years and still his fans didn’t cease to make you anxious. But you knew that you had to keep moving, to show that August couldn’t be scared because he would be scared if you were.

You reached the car, and Harry quickly put Margot in her car seat. August climbed into the back, and I got into the passenger seat, whilst Harry got in the driver's seat. As you drove away, you could see the fans in the rearview mirror, still calling out your husband's name.

"Mommy, why do they want to see daddy?" August asked, you could hear a slight quiver in his voice.

You offered him a gentle smile as you turned back to look at him in the backseat, his hand was holding onto his Sister’s,"Because he's a very talented singer, Auggie. A lot of people love his music."

August nodded, and you could see that he was starting to relax. You knew that it was going to be a long tour, but you were determined to keep your family safe and happy.

As Harry drove through the streets of Paris, you could feel the excitement building in the air. Harry’s husband's tour was going to be huge, and you

Knew that he was going to be amazing. But you also knew that it was going to be hard on all of you.

"Mommy, can we listen to daddy’s music?" August asked from the backseat.

"Of course, sweet boy," Harry enthusiastically reached forward, turning on the radio. Adore You came on, and I could see August's face light up.

"Your so good," August exclaimed, “— your the bestest singer in the whole wide world!” He was tapping his foot to the beat.

You and Harry both smiled, You were feeling proud of your husband and his talent. But also knew that being a pop star wasn't easy. There were always fans waiting outside, always paparazzi trying to get a photo.

You and your family arrived back at the hotel, and you quickly got Margot out of her car seat whilst Harry picked August up, although he was almost seven years old almost, he still like a cuddle.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

May 26th, 2023 — late night talking.

“Can you believe it's been almost ten years since we got married?" You asked Harry as you lifted up his hand to play with the wedding band sitting around his ring finger.

You laid in bed with Harry in Edinburgh, after his show and the two of you were absolutely knackered.

His show was incredible like it always was, he got the crowd going like always and brought a smile on not just your face and the children’s faces but every fan's face in the stadium.

He was in everybody's safe space.

You had put the kids to bed earlier and had both shared a shower together before crawling into bed and snuggling up against one another like always.

Harry chuckled and replied, "I know, it feels like yesterday. We were so young and naive back then."

You smiled up at him, shifting on your side and placing a hand on his naked torso (he liked to sleep in just his boxers), "But look at us now, we have a beautiful family and a great life."

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, we've come a long way. I'm proud of us."

You looked at Harry, "Remember when we used to talk about having kids? We were so scared."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, we were clueless. But now we have August and Margot, and I’d like to say we're doing just fine."

Parenting was definitely hard at times, but you and Harry always worked together to make sure that everything was going smoothly at all times, you both agreed you didn’t want your kids growing up in a household where there was animosity.

You grinned,pecking a kiss to his chest, "August is growing up so fast. He's already six years old."

Where had the time gone?

Where was your itty bitty five pound baby?

"I know, it's crazy,” Harry nodded, rubbing a hand up and down your back in a soft manner. “—And Margot is already eight months old. Time really does fly."

You sighed contentedly, "I'm so grateful for you and our family. We've been through so much, but we always come out stronger."

Harry smiled lovingly at you, pressing a soft kiss to your nose, "That's what love does. It makes us stronger."

It was true.

You and Harry always came out stronger when the two of you had a little disagreement, and that’s what made your relationship worth while.

You and Harry continued talking, reminiscing on your lives, feeling grateful for their life together. You knew that you had both come a long way, but if there was one thing you were looking forward too, it was to see what the future for their family.

"Are you okay?" You asked Harry as you noticed him struggling to keep his eyes open.

Harry shook his head, "I'm just feeling a bit tired today. I didn't get much sleep last night due to Gigi teething and the routings just started to get to me, nothing that a good nights sleep can’t fix.”

Yoy looked at Harry with concern, "Why didn't you tell me? Tonight, when the baby monitor goes off, I’m going to get Margot, I don’t care if you insist I sleep, I’m going, you need to be well rested.”

Harry smiled at you once again, yawning shortly before. "Thank you. But I wanted you to get some rest too. You've been working so hard lately."

You felt touched by Harry's words.

You knew that he was always looking out for you, even when he was struggling himself.

“Let’s try and get some shut eye.” You turned to the left and switched off your lamp on the bedside table before turning back around and snuggling into your husband's chest once again.

This was definitely your favourite sleeping position. His arms made you feel safe, as if no harm could ever come to you or the kids.

“I love you.” Harry spoke, looking down at you and puckering his lips slightly.

“And I love you, darling,” You replied, pressing one last goodnight kiss to his lips. “— from here to eternity?”

“From here to eternity.”

[parvuls]

A Comprehensive List Of Jack's Canon Chirps

"Bittle, HEADS UP!" [Bitty passes out] "…Or get into fetal position at central ice. That's also an option."

"You've never seen the sun rise from a rink, eh? Thought you were a figure skating champion."

Bitty: "A fist bump! I didn't know you did those." Jack: "Ha - you gotta work for them."

"The sad thing is, I can tell he's lying not because of the library part? But because he'd never leave a pie unattended."

"Oh and Bittle, before I forget. This summer? Eat more protein."

"When you get Youtube famous don't go out and chirp me all over the internet, eh? 'Night."

"How many of those tweets do you start with oh my god y'all?"

"It's way too easy to make you laugh. Make sure you tweet that." [looks over Bitty's shoulder to make sure he tweets that]

[texts Bitty a smiley face] [follows up with:] "Sorry that was a typo."

"You only tweeted twice while we were working, Bittle. That's a record."

[Bitty gets knocked over] "I guess you're looking for extra checking practice, eh, Bittle?"

"We should get going and let Bittle here text about his walk to class."

Bitty: "E-excuse you, but my kitchen is no place for checking!" Jack: "…Your kitchen?" Bitty: "Well, the kitchen! Now move your big -- uhm." Jack: "My big…?"

[At Thanksgiving] "All that turkey's gonna make you slow for tomorrow, Chowder."

[To a kid wearing a Brad Marchand jersey while asking for Jack's autograph] "You know this isn't me, right?"

"17." [At Bitty's confusion:] "That's the number of pies you baked in September. In case you were wondering where your time went."

"I'm sure you'd be done [with your history essay] too if you had tweeted it. Is that an option?"

[looks at Bitty's tweets] "I said where'd you get that camera not is that the camera you use. Come on, Bittle."

[finds Bitty's surprise cookies] "I'm surprised your cookies got through costumes Bittle."

"I told my mom about all your tweeting? She says you're not following her. I'm more surprised than offended, Bittle."

"Shitty, don't you think I should get a tweet transcript or something since he quotes me so much? For legal purposes."

"Hey, Bittle. That Daily reporter didn't rope you into an interview after that jump?"

[after meeting Farmer] "She was nice, eh? Cute. …I bet you're texting about our lunch now."

[Nursey accidentally hits a kid in the face with his hockey bag] "Nice check, Nurse."

[in the middle of the night] "I figured you'd be up baking a pie or three."

[Bitty gets shoe-checked] "Hey, it's no shoes, no shirt, no service, Bittle."

"Whose shoulders are you going to sit on at Spring C, Bittle?"

[Shitty tears up while kissing the ice] "Crying a bit there, eh?"

[SMH buy Bitty a new oven] Bitty: "I need to bake something right this second!" Jack: "Stop crying first."

"If we move the kitchen table out, you can bring your bed in."

[About graduating] "The biggest change is probably my diet. Less pie."

"And hey, it's a bit different than you and Lardo, eh? Since everyone knew you were in love with her since sophomore year."

[during Falcs Faceoff] Teammate: "Heard you've never lost one a these, I'm scared." Jack: "Yeah, you should be."

[Gets chirped for dating Bitty] "This is a Samwell hockey record. Chirps lasting longer than the ones re: Holster & Esther S." Holster: "…Jack." Jack: ":)"

Nursey: "Yo, Bitty do you remember any French?" Jack: "No." Bitty: "I can speak for myself, Mr. Zimmermann." Jack: "Well. Not in French."

[To Marty & Thirdy] "Hauling your kids around on a sled just about wore you guys out, eh?"

[To Tater] "Potato champ needs more sleep, eh?"

"Bitty? Hey, bud, come on, say something -" [Bitty passes out] "Or you can pass out at center ice. I'm getting deja vu."

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom(Chapter 6)]

Masterlist Oxytocin

TW- some shows of mental illness

10 years ago...

"Xerxes come on say something this is a safe place."

"Then why is there a camera?"

"It's there just in case you get-"

"I get what, crazy? Yeh, lady I know the drill"

"It says in your file that you have gone through multiple doctors in the past since your mother's death."

"And what makes you think you can fix me?"

"Because you are special, you have so much potential, and you put it all to waste."

"Who cares? My so called 'family', if I can recall they abandoned me, neglected me, and one of the little brats scarred me." Yep you obviously know who I'm talking about

"Xerxes, don't put the blame on others."

"You've been married for 15 years, three kids, one teen, one toddler, and one infant.

You're parents are divorced and no matter how many times you and your husband hate each other you wanna stay married in order to prevent the same trauma you had pass on to your kids.

Did I get it correct? Oh wait don't answer that I'm always correct." I sighed laying my head down.

"And you've become observant when it comes to hurting others, see I've studied your pattern of behaviour based on the reviews all your other doctors have represented to me before I took this case. And boy was it a long read.

Technically I'm entitled to tell you anything that could help you. And you thought that you could go through me?"

"I don't give a fuck what people say, who do I trust? No one, if a friend wants to jump on train tracks, don't expect me to hold their hand.

I don't give a damn what they insinuate about me anymore, I am an Amala never a Wayne, so I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to." And with that I abruptly stood up and grabbed my bag, I head out there.

The only reason I went there because, my 'dad' heard that I got into a fight and handcuffed the brat in the janitor's closet.

Just suck it up Xerxes, in a few years, you can finally escape them.

'Just suck it up' That's the advice I'd always tell myself no matter how much I cried, scream, or hurt myself.

Present...

"AHHHH, PETE, THERE IS A FUCKING BUILDING!!!!" I screamed as I held on tight to him.

"JENNY MOVE YOUR HAIR, OH SHIT!!!" he lost a bet so he had to swing me from Vincent's house to dad's. When we finally descended, I sighed and laid on the floor for a while.

"Y'know MJ would normally puke with this." He sighed.

"I'm built different" And I walked normally inside my house, I didn't feel any signs of...

fuck

oh wait

Oh shit

never-mind

I rushed to my bedroom's toilet and hurled a lot. Gosh, I should've listened to MJ. With that I washed my face, and brushed my mouth. I went down-stairs ignoring my surroundings.

I kinda had a crush on Pete for a while, but then I met Vincent and felt like Pete is a brother to me.

"AYOO, PETE LET'S GO WATCH SAW 2-" I immediately cut myself off when I saw, something I thought was a dream.

oh wait

it can't be

tell me I'm dreaming.

OH SHIT....

"Hey baby bird-" Richard stuttered, and tried to hug me.

"Back off Grayson, dad what the fuck is going on."

"Xerxes-"

"Who said I was talking to you limp-dick? Now dad seriously what the hell is going on here?" I looked at dad with puppy eyes, gosh I'm so adorable.

"Now, they just came here to drop your stuff." He explained.

"They are not my things they are Xerxes' things, I only things that I need are what I have now." I stated, as I looked at the cunt who ruined my life, I only sighed.

"Xerxes-"

"Zip it Timothy, or I'll tear you're tongue from your head." I stated, I've been watching the Originals again, and might I add, Nikklaus' has been looking good.

"Xerxes-" Jason tried to start. But I cut him off with a glare, he then corrected himself.

"Jennifer, we miss you and we apologise-"

"For what? Neglecting me? Abandoning me? LEAVING ME TO DIE?"

"We didn't mean to." They all protested.

"Bullshit!"

"Language!" Dad sighed.

"When is my birthday?"

"January 7?"

"No, it's September 8, what the hell is wrong with you people?" I was eager to run and ditch these people and run up to my room.

"Xerxes, you're my sister come on." He tried to grab me, but I dodged it and grabbed his hand spinning him downwards. Thanks Nat.

"Touch me one more time, and your arm won't be the only thing that will hurt."

I immediately rushed upstairs and ran to my room, locking it, which activates voice-recognition. Gosh, I was so angry with them. I started to get really angry and accidentally punched a hole in my wall that was connected to Morgan's room.

"JENNY!!!" Oh fuck.

"SORRY M! I'll fix it later." And with that I just dropped onto the bed. I grabbed my phone and texted Vincent.

Jinx- Hey V

V- Hey Jen, how r u?

Jinx- My previous fucked-up family is back now

V- damn, wanna hang tommorow? 🙂

Jinx- Sure, but I gotta lotta hw tho 😢

V- call me if you can then 🤙🏻

And with that I decided to lay down and wonder how fucked up my life could get. I started to fall asleep so I decided to shut down all of my devices, in order to avoid the annoying sound of the 'Brady Bunch' trying to text me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- It could've been longer if my dumbass didn't accidentally delete my first draft, could've been so much better.

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194

[onlydylanobrien]

Live from New York, It’s Dylan O’Brien!

The 33-year-old plays Dan Aykroyd in Jason Reitman’s Saturday Night, and he’s not sure he hit it out of the park. But he’s okay with that.

DYLAN O’BRIEN HAS led movies that grossed hundreds of millions of dollars at the box office. He’s shared the screen in a thriller with Michael Keaton (2017’s American Assassin), exchanged jokes with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson (in 2013’s The Internship), been a long-running MTV teen heartthrob (in 92 episodes of Teen Wolf), voiced a Transformer (in 2018’s Bumblebee), and, hell, went toe to toe with Larry David while playing himself on Curb Your Enthusiasm. At 33, he’s accomplished a hell of a lot.

By the time we meet at Men’s Health’s New York City offices to chat on an early September Friday, I’ve already seen a lot of his work. I’ve always liked the way his relaxed demeanor on-screen fits with an undeniable movie-star look—and that holds true in his latest project, Saturday Night (in select theaters now and out nationwide on October 11), in which he stars as comedy legend and original Saturday Night Live cast member Dan Aykroyd; the movie is a depiction of the chaotic 90 minutes before the very first episode of SNL. But I wasn’t sold on his sheer determination—the pure conviction in his character—until I learned that, like myself, he’s a long-suffering fan of the New York Jets.

“I get psyched for the Jets,” he tells me, rocking a full beard, a T-shirt, and a pair of comfortable lacrosse shorts. As he finishes his thought, his eyes light up, but they maintain the slightest sense of eternal frustration behind them. “Even though it’s always like, Jesus Christ.”

Misfortunes of past football seasons aside, O’Brien is as hyped as he’s ever been for the season to come—he’s already done all of his fantasy drafts, though he feels better about some than others—but right now he has one potential problem: He’s going to be in Toronto, for the Toronto International Film Festival, on the night of the Jets season opener. But don’t worry, he’s got it figured out. Saturday Night’s premiere is on Tuesday, and his press schedule on Monday (when the Jets are set to play the San Francisco 49ers) concludes at 5:30 p.m.

“I’m like, I’m going to a pub. I’m getting out of the area, and I’m just going to sit and have some beer and watch the Jets on Monday night all by myself,” he says with a huge smile on his face. “It’s going to be awesome.”

It’s a relatable feeling—for most Jets fans, there’s no happier time than before the season starts, before the annual feelings of dread and doom start to set in. (The Jets would wind up losing to the 49ers, 32-19, in their Week 1 MNF matchup.) But, as Jets fans have learned so well to do over the years, we move on.

O’Brien has a long career behind him, but a long career ahead of him, too. In addition to his upcoming role in Saturday Night (which has earned strong reviews in the early goings), he’s also got the M. Night Shyamalan-produced Caddo Lake premiering on Max this month, and Anniversary, in which he stars alongside Diane Lane and Kyle Chandler, coming at some point in the near future. (It doesn’t currently have a release date.) O’Brien is the kind of actor who elevates the project he’s in, even when the project is already really, really good—but if there’s anything being a Jets fan says about someone, it’s that they know how to adjust, adapt, and bounce back. And in an industry as fickle as show business—which is put on full display in Saturday Night—that’s about as important a quality as any to have in your back pocket.

Ahead of the release of several of the biggest and most exciting projects of his career, O’Brien sat down with Men’s Health to discuss how he keeps himself sane and centered, prepping to play a comedy icon, and some of those casting rumors about him out there on the Internet.

MEN’S HEALTH: What kind of routines do you maintain for your mental and physical health?

DYLAN O’BRIEN: I don’t go to the gym. I’m not a gym guy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t exercise or train or anything. I would say I go in and out of that. I’m usually the type who’s either on a pretty consistent routine and trying to hit it hard and take care of myself for a period of time, and then I’ll let it go for a little bit. Some of that’s influenced by my schedule, too. When you go to work, it’s hard to keep up some kind of regimen. But when I’m home and I’m in between jobs, I’ve become a very domesticated individual. I love grocery shopping and cooking my own meals.

MH: What’s your favorite thing to make?

DOB: If I had to pick one thing, I love, to the soul, making a soup. It’s literally the first thing I’ll do when I go anywhere to settle in. Just a homemade chicken soup, with a chicken carcass, and get creative with the veggies.

MH: Do you have a mental health routine?

DOB: That’s typically what drives the eating and the exercising. I always feel best when I’m in a nice routine and taking care of myself. As I’ve gotten into my 30s, sleep is so important, and periods of laying off alcohol are so important. Just treating your body right and getting rest. I like to do a cold plunge session, and that’s very meditative for me. I’ll follow the simple program of “exhaust the body, relax the mind” when I’m going right.

“I was self-conscious that I DIDN’T LOOK LIKE HIM, that I DIDN’T SOUND LIKE HIM, that I thought people wouldn’t think me—Dan Aykroyd.”

MH: I totally understand the concept of using whatever levels us as therapy. Sometimes after work I just need to put the Yankees on and do absolutely nothing in order to fully detox and feel right.

DOB: That’s my soul. The Mets… obviously, baseball is a nearly every day thing. And even when the Mets are not going well, what’s soothed me since I was closely following them when I was a kid is [broadcasters Gary Cohen, Keith Hernandez, and Ron Darling]. Literally, even just throwing the game on in the background while I’m getting dinner ready and just listening to those guys talk baseball—that settles me to my core. I’m totally with you on that.

MH: Is watching sports your main way of decompressing at the end of a long day?

DOB: If it’s baseball season, yeah, nightly Mets is nice. If I’m working, I’ve been known to be on jobs and randomly be bingeing some reality show while I’m on it. It’s such a decompressor at the end of the day. I love reality TV.

MH: What’s your favorite?

DOB: Of all time?

MH: Yeah.

DOB: Well, it’s between Jersey Shore and Vanderpump Rules as far as the all-timers. I’ve been a longtime OG Vanderpump fan, pre-Scandoval, and I just think that show’s a masterpiece. And Jersey Shore is a masterpiece, too. I did a film, Ponyboi, that’s very Jersey-centric, and so I drilled all of the first four seasons of Jersey Shore. My whole routine for that movie, when I needed to decompress, was just working out and watching reality TV. I lost a lot of weight, too, for that movie, and I was just trying to make my little chicken breast, and eat my salad, and work out, and watch Jersey Shore.

MH: Let’s talk about Saturday Night. How would you describe your version of Dan Aykroyd?

DOB: It might be the thing most open to interpretation I’ve ever done. By that, I mean it really was just leaping out of the nest. I’m playing this real person, but [director Jason Reitman] had no intention of just copying the person coming in. He really wanted everyone to have their own spin on the person, which, if you’re overthinking it, can be tough to do because it can be very easy to do. If you’re like, I’m just going to watch my guy’s interviews and sketches, then you can kind of fall into imitation. As far as I know, I was just doing what I thought he was like. But I don’t fucking know. That instinct was that Jason was always telling me what to run with. He was big on not overpreparing, not overwatching things, and not impersonating. I’m curious to hear people’s take, because I don’t really know. I just went with my gut.

MH: Was there one signature quality of Dan you wanted to capture?

DOB: A very earnest intelligence—he’s so quick, it was exhausting. I would always say how exhausted I was, because I’m playing someone who’s way quicker than I am, and so I’m constantly operating at a speed I can’t operate at, because he’s so sharp and fast and he never fumbles and he never curses. He never bides time. You know what I mean?

MH: Absolutely.

DOB: He’s so precise with his improvisation and his comedic skills. I came away with such a larger appreciation than I even had for his genius. And he was so young—he was a kid. He was 23 on that first season of SNL. I never processed him as being too worried about too much, which was a funny contrasting energy to the very tense atmosphere of the film in the hour and a half before showtime. He’s so loose.

MH: It’s interesting you say that, because it’s something I totally clocked, too—Dan is kind of the calm part of a storm that includes people like Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) and John Belushi (Matt Wood). How did you maintain that presence as the movie’s level head?

DOB: My way of achieving that, with permission from Jason, was to embrace this quality in myself that I didn’t originally associate to Dan—that I only then did after Jason pointed it out to me—which was to have an aloofness on set. I feel very relaxed in that space. In a way, I wasn’t too worried. But that comes with the caveat that I entered this process thinking I was so wrong for the part.

MH: Why did you think that?

DOB: I don’t know. I was self-conscious that I didn’t look like him, that I didn’t sound like him, that I thought people wouldn’t think me—Dan Aykroyd. And I guess it was an insecurity that I would be skewered for being miscast or something. But even with that insecurity, again, I’m still so happy to be there and, like, whatever, fuck it. I don’t care if that’s the response. I’m boned, but whatever. It’s great to be here and get to do this, and what a blast of a thing to get to be a part of. So, weirdly enough, that type of aloofness amidst other people having to handle some really tense stuff was what Jason was telling me to embrace.

MH: Have you met Dan?

DOB: No. Not yet. I’m supposed to meet him at TIFF. And apparently that will be both of our first times seeing the movie.

MH: That will be great.

DOB: There was a moment early on, when you go into something like this, you’re playing someone, you imagine that they might want to speak to you. They might be hell-bent on speaking to you, they might be crazy about getting their hands in it, or they might be totally hands off. And to hear that he was so not worried about it, if anything, was the first moment I was like, Oh, maybe we’re right. Because I would’ve met with him, too, but I also didn’t need it. I would have if he insisted. I’d be like, Of course—I’ve got to do that. But I vibe with the fact that he was like, no, let the kid go do it. That’s how I feel like I would react.

MH: What’s your favorite movie of his?

DOB: I was a big Blues Brothers kid. I did the Blues Brothers for my talent show in third grade. I was also a big Tommy Boy kid.

MH: I’ve loved a lot of the comedic stuff that you’ve gotten to do, including your Curb Your Enthusiasm guest appearance. What was working with Larry like?

DOB: Oh, it’s just a blast. He’s a Jets fan, too—I remember that was our first conversation we had. It was like I was just talking to a buddy, at [the popular TriBeCa bar] Walker’s, or something about the Jets. I’ve worked with a lot of comedians, and that space can be weird. The energy can be very overstimulating, and those personalities can tend to be really loud and competing. It can be a very odd atmosphere sometimes. Going to work with a guy like that… I was like, Who knows, he could be a fucking total narcissist tycoon, and he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been more generous, couldn’t have been quicker to laugh at someone else and let someone else have the spotlight. I couldn’t think more of the guy. He’s amazing.

MH: It’s been almost a decade since your accident on the Maze Runner set. When you look back at your recovery, how has that experience most impacted your life?

DOB: It was a life-changing incident. I’ve approached everything differently, you could say, particularly with regards to standing my ground on set. It’s very commonplace in the culture for young actors to be controlled, and the way they strive to do that is by always being like, Oh, don’t become difficult. Don’t be a pain in the ass. Or Are you complaining, are you being difficult? Things like that. I learned after the accident to not conflate taking care of yourself and looking after yourself. Don’t let them manipulate you into thinking that is being difficult, because I can look at that day and know I was a 24-year-old kid who was raising concerns about how we were approaching things, and they were not listened to, they were not respected. And then what happened happened. And by all accounts, it was all pretty gotten away with, I would say, as well. It’s taught me that, at the end of the day, in these spaces, you have your own back, and that’s the most you can rely on. I just turned 33. I’ve been doing this for 15 years. I know the person I am, and the character I bring to set, and the way I treat people and the way that I treat a workspace, and I know I’m not difficult. I know I’m not an asshole. I know I was trying to protect myself that day, and so I’ve just never forgotten that. That’s always rung true as being the thing to hold with me.

“It’s taught me that, at the end of the day, in these spaces, you HAVE YOUR OWN BACK, and that’s the MOST YOU CAN RELY ON.”

MH: And this is something that’s always in the back of your mind, just knowing that you’ve had this experience and it’s shaped where you are now.

DOB: It helps me. It’s a shame. It’s a shame that it had to be that for me. To build this armor for myself of just being like, No, man, I’m going to look after myself, I’m going to take care of myself, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with asking questions. There’s nothing wrong with bringing ideas, even if we’re talking creatively. It’s our job to bring ideas. There’s nothing wrong with raising concerns. There’s nothing wrong with being like, “I think we could do this better, I think we could do this differently.” You know what I mean? That’s the process. It’s a collaborative process. It’s a creative process, but also you’re dealing with big dangerous shit sometimes, too.

MH: Throughout the years, you’ve been rumored to become the Flash and Spider-Man. Is there any truth to the rumors?

DOB: No, never.

MH: Nothing?

DOB: No, none of it. Yeah.

MH: Is that of interest if an opportunity ever came up? Are you a comic book person?

DOB: I never have been. But I wouldn’t rule out anything. Certainly, it’s not of interest to me as of now. Maybe when I was 20 and they were rebooting Spider-Man—I was excited about that. But I didn’t even get past the casting pre-call or anything. No, none of those rumors have ever been true. I didn’t even know there were rumors. I just thought they were people just putting it out there.

MH: People put a bunch of stuff out there and then places pick it up and then stuff snowballs.

DOB: None of anything I’ve ever read about myself is true. So, if you want to use that template, that’s my experience.

MH: So what is of interest to you? What’s your dream?

DOB: There are obviously filmmakers I’ve loved since I was a kid who I would love to work with. I always want to challenge myself, and I always want to go with my gut and trust when I respond to something, I’m responding to it for a reason. Trust that when I’m scared of something, maybe that’s a good thing I should lean into. Try to find the new filmmakers, and try to champion them, and be a part of the early parts of the careers of our new wave of filmmakers. Try to champion original things as much as I can, too. I feel like that’s obviously trending so much further and further away, and towards extinction, that I just feel like it’s important to lend yourself to those things when you can, as much as you can.

This interview has been edited for content and clarity.

Source: menshealth.com

[eobe]

New year – fresh PFP 🤩✨

I love my old pfp ☺️ It‘s about 7 years old now and I was doing my first steps in digital drawing on Adobe Sketch (I miss that app, it had such a fine watercolour brush!) and then life happened and for a long time I only drew for work, stopped to draw and paint for myself and my internal art dragon went into a long wintersleep as my survival mode overtook for many years.

This art block was until last September when I popped up here with Captain Keeli ☺️ Since then my skills grew rapidly and now I learned more than I ever thought I could reach and I met people I don‘t want to miss anymore ♥️🙏

Thank you all so much for being here with me, I‘m actually healing now 🙏🤩✨

In 2025 I‘m planning to do some more underrated clones and tcw and tbb scenes of my list, indulging my crosshatching artstyle ✨ I want to do some fun chaos drawing timelapses à la Eobe showing how I struggle and lose my mind concept and try out new things 👀 and I want to get better and more secure with my comic style – mostly in some art escalations collabs 🫶 I’m also working on a new masterlist with a better concept, to not get tired browsing through 😂 And just let‘s look what the year brings of course! 🤩✨

Have a last look at the friendly sunflower from 2018 and have a fresh look at my OC Padawan Eo 2025:

Taglist, new sight for notifs: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit @freesia-writes