#if any of u want to hear my story about my aunt being fucking weird about it just search my blog you'll probably find it eventually

[sparrownnax]

one extremely specific thing i appreciate Shirt doing is the whole "dad technically coming from a racial minority but not being connected with the culture at all x mom whos fuckin obsessed with said culture" bcus yeah my dad and by extension me n my brothers r Metis but like we don't talk to any of that side of the family like for all intents and purposes we're white but my mom loves to bring it up at any opportunity

[songbirdstyles]

white wedding.

summary: your estranged aunt leaves you her estate in her will with the stipulation that you have to be married to receive your inheritance. luckily, harry is more than willing to help.

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst if you squint.

song inspo.: white wedding - billy idol

word count: 13.4k

You weren’t too close to your Aunt Alice for the entirety of your life - there’s a picture, you think, hung in your parents’ house of her and some of your other family members, crowding around your bassinet when you were just a baby, her face turned up into a scowl amid everyone else’s gleaming grins, and it was a lovely foreshadow into your relationship with her. She sent you $10 on your birthdays and Christmas (an amount that your father had always scoffed at when he thought you weren’t listening - ��she’s a goddamn millionaire,’ he’d hiss to your mother, ‘and the most she can spare her only niece is $10?’)  and you could remember, when you were 9, seeing her at a family reunion where she sat at a table pressed into a back corner and nursed glasses of wine during the entire event.

It goes without saying, you suppose, that she wasn’t the kindest lady. Your mother had told you how Aunt Alice cut off your father for some reason nobody could quite discern and, so, she never held a much larger place in your life than a mere branch on your second grade family tree project -

But, still. It’s rather difficult to regard the dead in such a negative manner so you try and focus on the good parts of your late aunt. Twice, she wrote ‘love u’ in your Christmas card. And, at said family reunion, when you walked over to her table to say goodbye before you left, she delivered a sloppy, strangely wet kiss to the side of your face that smelled distinctly of chardonnay (a scent you hadn’t quite been able to place until years later.) And - 

“Are you alright?”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, gazing out the rain-streaked car window at the night sky with an odd air of sadness surrounding you. You had been trying to hide the slight dash of sadness you feel at the memory of your aunt by disguising it with a mask of sleepiness that has you leaning your forehead against the cold window, eyes squeezed shut. But Harry can read you like a goddamn book - like the back of his hand. It’s what best friends are for, you suppose.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, tilting your head away from the window to glance at him in the driver’s seat. And, the truth is, you are fine. It’s not as though you’re entirely too saddened with the news of Aunt Alice’s passing. She’d always had health issues, according to your parents, and you’re not sure what, exactly, has sealed her fate - you’re simply more confused by it all. “Well - when we were leaving the movies, I got a call from my dad. My aunt died.”

You can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath and there’s a brief hesitation where you know he’s trying to gauge how you feel about it. “Oh,” he settles on, turning to look at you in the eye when the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “M’sorry, love.”

You shrug, glancing down to squint at your fingernails in the darkness of Harry’s car. You’d begun to pick at the baby blue nail polish he’d delicately applied the night before (they matched his, naturally) and it really is a nervous habit you should work on, but you can’t be bothered right now. “We weren’t close,” you admit, leaning back against the headrest. “It’s just weird, is all.”

“Are y’sad about it?”

“Not quite,” and it’s the truth. “She was wealthy, though. I think she wrote novels or plays or something - I’m not sure. And I was, apparently, her closest living relative that she didn’t despise.”

He clicks his tongue softly, making a left when the light finally switches to green, and his eyes shift back towards the road. “Left y’somethin’ in her will, did she?”

“Her countryside estate,” you confess, voice soft - it’s not the climax of your story but it certainly sounds like it should be, and you can see the confused crease in Harry’s eyebrows when you look up at him. “I looked the address up online, Har - it’s gorgeous, 6 beds and 7 bathrooms. I guess we had similar tastes in that regard.”

“Y’don’t sound too thrilled, for someone who jus’ got their dream house handed to ‘em on a platter.”

“There’s a stipulation in the will.”

“Ah.”

You smile tightly. “I’ll only inherit the house if I’m married.”

It’s something you’ll never understand. Aunt Alice never married and lived in that grand old house (your dream house) all by herself, and if you’d known about your role in her will perhaps you’d have argued it with her in person - the hypocrisy of it all, how goddamn unfair it was. And it’ll kill you - truly kill you - to see that house go to whoever her next closest living relative is who she doesn’t hate. Probably some third cousin twice removed, considering how great she was at cutting people off.

And Harry sits for a moment in silence, considering it. “Seems very - very - can’t think of the word.”

“Sexist? Unfair? Dumb?”

“All true,” he agrees, giving you a sympathetic smile, and it makes you feel the tiniest bit better, even if it’s just for a moment. “Barbaric, maybe.”

“I hate her,” you declare, crossing your arms over your hoodie-clad chest, and you most certainly don’t, but you’re angry enough to mean it in the moment. When your father had told you, you hadn’t thought about it too much - besides being confused by the entire thing, being left a house by a relative you hardly knew - but saying it out loud makes you angrier, squeezing your eyes shut. “Would you know she never married? How does that make sense?” “It doesn’t,” Harry repeats, and you glance out the window, lifting your palm to wipe at the cloudy stain your forehead had made against the glass - you’re just less a minute away from your apartment building, and you rip your phone from Harry’s charger and shove it into the pocket of your hoodie. “She left you time, right? T’get married? Tha’ seems only fair.”

You snort, ignoring the way his lips turn up into a smile at the noise. “She gave me a year. I mean, I’m 23 - I wasn’t intending on settling down for another couple of years.”

If you were less distracted, perhaps you’d see his responding silence for what it is - time to think, gears grinding in his head, as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and leans over the center console to wrap you in a hug. Harry’s a talkative person and he’s only really quiet when he’s got something on his mind, but you’ve got something on yours too (probably more than he does) so you ignore it. And his soft murmur into your hair of ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast’ sounds every bit as distracted as you feel so you simply pay it no mind.

It’s easier that way, for now.

 --

 “I’ve been thinkin’ about your situation.”

You raise your eyebrows at Harry, bent over his plate of French toast as though he hadn’t spoken at all. His sunglasses are perched at the end of his nose so you can see his eyes - which, in your opinion, defeats the purpose of even wearing the stupid things in public. But, whenever you two go out together, he insists on wearing them, along with a grey beanie protecting his infamous head of curls from any wandering eyes, and the bizarre attempt at a disguise always makes you feel like you’re having breakfast with a burglar. 

“Not much to think about,” you shrug, popping a forkful of omelet into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I was just mad about it last night, you know. Heat of the moment, sort of thing.”

“I’d be mad, too,” Harry tells you, and it’s getting more difficult to ignore the way his words send heat creeping up your neck, and you glance down at your plate of eggs with a small smile gracing your face. “Not jus’ heat of the moment, either. Really mad. S’bullshit.”

A second of silence passes, and you let his reassurance settle over you - simply having him agree with you on the stupidity of the entire situation makes you feel a thousand times better. Even if you don’t get the house (and you’ve already progressed into the last stage of grief over almost certainly losing it - acceptance) at least you’ll always have Harry, and maybe that’s enough.

But the house would be nice, too.

“What were you thinking about?” You question, lifting your eyes back up to meet his through his tinted glasses, and if there wasn’t the barrier between your gazes you’d be able to note the nearly shameful glint in his eyes as he digs into his stack of sugary sweet toast, doused with maple syrup and towered high with fruit. “About the situation, I mean.”

Harry begins to speak once more just as you reach over with your fork to nab a piece of banana, and he swats at your wrist as you pop the slice of fruit into your mouth. “Don’ steal my banana, babe,” he tells you, eyes narrowing in mock anger, and you roll your eyes at the name. “Anyway. S’not totally crazy, that you could get married in less than a year.”

Yes, it is, you want to reply back, but you can tell he’s ramping up to something important, so you rest your fork on your plate and furrow your eyebrows at him pointedly. Truthfully, even if the love of your life happened to be sitting in front of you, you’re not sure you could go through with marrying them, anyway. It’s such a heavy commitment and, God, you thought you’d have more time. Time to explore and experiment and not settle down (in your dream house) just for the sake of it.

“What if we got married?”

And that - is not what you were expecting him to say.

You’re not sure if he’s kidding or not so you give it a minute before responding in any capacity. Just stare at him, and he makes a point of hooking his pinkie in the center of his sunglasses and tugging them down his nose just a bit so you can see the absolute lack of amusement in his eyes. He’s all business, goddammit, as if he hadn’t just basically proposed to you in the middle of eating your fucking omelet.

But you can’t be sure he’s serious, and you also can’t be sure that the way your stomach flipped wasn’t because of a particularly egregious sip of chocolate milk and not the prospect of marrying your best friend. So you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you kidding?”

Harry just shakes his head, grey beanie sliding up just a bit for one chocolate coloured lock of hair to escape the confines of the dumb hat. “M’being dead serious, babe. I’ll get down on one knee an’ prove it, too.”

“Don’t do that,” you beg him, reaching out to grab at his wrist when he makes to push himself out of his chair, and his wide grin only sends your stomach into another set of somersaults. “Jesus, Har.”

“Horrible idea?”

You don’t respond right away, grabbing your glass of chocolate milk and wrapping your lips around the straw. It’s a few seconds to process the request in all its glory - marrying your best friend, even if it’s just for show, is a lot. Sure, all you’d really have to do is head down to a courthouse (you could do it today, even - if you wanted to, and you’re not sure you do.) It’d be easier than searching hopelessly for the love of your life and arrange a wedding in less than a year, and you’d be able to walk the halls of your aunt’s gorgeous estate, decorate it how you please, and - ideally - your relationship with Harry wouldn’t quiver in the slightest.

Well, maybe that’s why you’re hesitant to begin with. Because it would quiver - or because it wouldn’t - or because it’s plain weird to marry your best friend. Even if it’s for a good cause (your dream home) and even if he suggested it in the first place, because he cares about you and wants you to be happy.

That’s sweet.

Maybe it would be a glorious fuck you to Aunt Alice in death. It isn’t as though anyone would know about the inauthenticity of the union but you would, and that’s all the revenge you need for her adding such a silly stipulation to her will, anyway. A marriage born not out of love, but out of need - sure, it’s not exactly how you wanted your life to go, but it’s better than watching the estate go to someone you’d never met before. You could get married and get divorced in the time frame she’d given you to find love in the first place and it would hardly be a blip in your life plans, and certainly not in Harry’s. It isn’t as though he’d suggest it if the marriage would ruin anything for him. 

Sure, you’d prance around family parties with him on your arm to sell your faux romance to your family. Only one or two, though, his arm around your waist, and it wasn’t as if your parents hadn’t already begun to question whether your close friendship with Harry ventured into something further. And, when it’s all said and done, when the house is officially in your name and you can begin shopping for furniture to make it your own, it’ll be easy to sell the divorce - he’s touring, you’d tearfully proclaim, and the stress was just too much on our relationship. And then you’d both be happy, right? For the most part, anyway. Still best friends with no hassle at all, and you get your house and he gets the popstar life without the settling down part.

When you’ve swallowed your gulp of chocolate milk, it’s nearly worrying how much you’ve thought about the proposal.

“It’s not a horrible idea,” you begin, eyes diverting downward to where Harry’s fingers are fiddling with a straw wrapper. “I mean, it could be pretty easy.”

“Very easy.”

“We just elope -”

“Could do it today, even -”

“I haven’t agreed yet, Mr. Styles - but we would elope, and then I’d get the house, and maybe I’d bring you to a family reunion, just to sell it, and then we’re divorced.”

He raises his eyebrows, glasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose until their purpose has been completely obliterated, and his eyes are on display for the goddamn world to see. “Unless we fall in love an’ live happily ever after - no divorce necessary, m’love.”

Bastard. Your stomach flips again but you just roll your eyes, picking up your fork and lifting a shaky bite of eggs up to your mouth. “Shut up.”

You’re almost certain you’ve made up your mind but you still make a show of thinking about it, slowly chewing on your omelet and focusing your gaze on a paper napkin resting on the ground beside Harry’s chair. It’s almost too easy, the entire process, and maybe that should make you nervous, just a little bit, that the idea of marrying him feels so relaxing. But - well - if you had to choose anyone in the world to marry in order to fulfill a stipulation in your aunt’s will, it would have to be Harry.

He’s looking at you eagerly when you look back up at him, and you’re not sure why he’s so excited about it - not like there’s anything in it for him - but it’s something you’ll think about later.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” you tell him, watching the way his grin spreads across his face like wildfire, and you can’t help yourself from smiling, too, “but I am.”

In seconds, Harry’s reaching across the table, grabbing your hand in his larger one, and just the way your heart jumps at the feeling of your palms pressed together should certainly have you rethinking your enthusiastic yes. But then he’s picking up the straw wrapper he’d been fiddling with, and it’s twisted into a makeshift wedding ring, and he’s sliding it onto your ring finger with a wide smile like a fucking puppy -

God. You’re in too deep already, and you’ve only just agreed.

 --

 For the record, you’d rethought your decision many, many times since agreeing.

You’d drafted out the text for Harry for when you inevitably will change your mind - a block of words confessing to him that you’d reacted too quickly and you think it would be best if you simply forfeit your inheritance, but you can never quite gather the guts to do it. And every time you copy and paste the note from your notes to your text thread with your best friend, something always stops you -

The photos of the house from the real estate website you’d seen it on.

Harry’s wide grin as you accepted his offer.

FIngers delicately sliding on an engagement ring made of a paper straw wrapper, and the next day when he’d shown up at your door with an actual, real engagement ring.

Naturally, you hadn’t sent it. You’d deleted the note entirely, too, embarrassed with even looking at your words of defeat sprawled on your phone screen. Sometimes, though, you wish you had fucking sent it. Nearly two weeks after accepting the proposal that still hasn’t progressed from feeling like an absolute fever dream, you’re sitting with Harry at Aunt Alice’s funeral, his arm hooked around the back of your chair and the other clutching a glass of wine that he’s hardly taken two sips of.

You’re on your second glass already, and it’s barely been an hour. You’d signed the guestbook and hooked your arm with Harry’s and introduced him as your fiance to exactly one of your great-aunts, and you’d been so nervous that Aunt Shirley could see right through your faux-engagement that you’d practically downed your glass the second her back turned. 

“This is so weird,” you confess to Harry, shifting closer to him so no one else around you can hear. Not that there is, per se, anyone else around you - not many other people are sitting down, but you and Harry were one of the first people to arrive, so you’ve given yourselves a pass to sit down for a while. “Isn’t it weird, Har?”

“S’only weird if you make it weird,” he murmurs back, and you would roll your eyes at how maddeningly calm he is if you weren’t desperate to keep up your pretense as loving fiance to the funeral goers whose wandering eyes may turn to you two. “And, babe, you’re makin’ it weird.”

Your lips spread into a smile and you lift your glass of wine to your lips, taking a small sip before bringing it back down to your lap. No matter how many times you scream at yourself, internally, that nobody knows you’re not engaged and to calm the fuck down, you can’t stop your leg from bouncing up and down, showcasing your nerves in the most outward way you possibly could. “Wonder when my parents are getting here - should’ve texted them and told them separately. Did you tell your mum?”

“Told her the truth,” Harry tells you, tilting his head into yours in a way that feels so natural you swear you could stay this way forever. “You’re not tellin’ your parents the truth?”

“Bless my mum,” you sigh, “but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Harry exhales a soft laugh, eyes darting around the room full of people before landing back on yours, and your gazes lock for just the briefest of seconds before he’s glancing down at your lap. “Y’don’t have t’do this if you’re uncomfortable, y’know. We can jus’ say - the pressure of m’job was too much.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you tell him, which is true. You’re nervous, for sure, but he could never make you uncomfortable. “And, ironically enough, that’s my excuse for when we divorce.”

Your voice drops to a near breath on the last word and Harry’s head drops back with a bark of laughter that’s entirely too loud for the setting you’re at but you can’t bring yourself to reprimand him. “Always talkin’ ‘bout our divorce,” Harry breathes, tilting his head closer to yours so his mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his breath, hot against your skin. “What if we fall in love, babe? No divorce then. Don’ y’want us t’live happily ever after?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you roll your eyes, even if you’re almost positive you will (or already have) and shake your head at Harry’s resulting chuckle. “Been best friends for nearly five years, haven’t we? If we were going to fall in love, I reckon it would’ve happened already, Har.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, voice oddly soft and sounding just sentimental enough for you to narrow your eyes suspiciously at him - but before you can question him further, his eyes dart down to where your leg is still frantically bouncing up and down. “Bloody hell, love - bouncin’ your leg so much. Y’look like a nervous wreck.”

“Thanks,” you begin, and whatever else you’d been meaning to say dies in your throat as Harry’s arm shifts from around the back of your chair and his hand comes down firm on your leg. His fingertips brush your knee and his palm lays soft against your thigh, just high enough to gently brush the end of your black dress and you wish you could control the way your stomach flips again and again like a fucking gymnast.

It’s to keep up appearances, you tell yourself. So people don’t think I’m so nervous. But it feels so nice, so natural in a way you hadn’t expected, feeling his hand resting on your thigh like it belongs there, fingertips drumming against your knee which most certainly isn’t bouncing anymore.

Your eyes flit up to his, narrowing them ever so slightly as if to sniff out his intentions, and out of the corner of your eye you can see two familiar figures walking in the high arched doors of Aunt Alice’s service. Your parents break off from each other nearly the second they enter, your father skirting off to greet some of his cousins and your mother’s eyes scan the room filled with relatives before landing on you and Harry.

“Mum’s here,” you tell Harry, pushing yourself to stand, and the feeling of his hand dropping off your thigh is a sensation you absolutely despise. He stands soon after you, adjusting the cuffs of his black button down shirt, and for the first time since the funeral began, you can see the beginnings of nervousness creeping upon him. A light pink flush works its way up his neck to his cheeks and he brings his hand up to run through his hair, inhaling a shaky breath. “You look nervous, Har. You’ve met my mum before.”

“S’different. Now we’re engaged.”

“Not too different.” You hook your arm with Harry’s, patting his hand with yours, and he gives you one grateful fleeting grin before you begin walking over to your mother. She’s bent over the guestbook, scribbling her name with the feather pen resting beside the log. You stop walking when you’re just a couple paces behind her, waiting for her to turn around and see you two - and your voice drops to a hushed tone as you reassure Harry. “I think she already sort of thought we were dating anyway - so she won’t care too much.”

“Wait - she did?”

“Hey, mum!”

 --

 You’re getting married in a week.

And, sure, you’d known that the entire process would move quicker than you could imagine but it still feels surreal and you still reckon you haven’t thought it through enough. It’s worsened (or, in some way, bettered) by the absolute adoration your family had immediately adopted towards Harry after meeting him just a few days ago, your aunts pulling you aside at the funeral and the repast that occurred after and whispering in your ear about what a handsome man he is! 

Well, they’ll certainly be disappointed when, in a month or two, you pop in to the next family gathering and announce that you two had gotten divorced as quickly as you’d been wed. Harry will be your ex husband and, at that point, surely people would be suspicious at the speed of which everything had happened but - hey - you’ll have your house and your best friend and that’s all you really need, isn’t it.

Yeah.

Slowly but surely, you’re coming to peace with it, and Harry’s certainly making it easier by being so zen about it all. His nerves at the funeral had been just about eradicated because your mum loves him, which you knew, and your father had seemed positively overjoyed at the news of your engagement, but they’d both seemed rather disappointed at your decision to elope instead of spending the time planning a big white wedding. And you’d expected that, but you figure that, by the time your second marriage inevitably rolls around, it’ll be real (realer than whatever you’re feeling for Harry, because you’re still not sure) and your father will walk you down the aisle and you’ll be able to go shopping for a big gorgeous wedding dress like you’d always dreamt of wearing.

You haven't even bought a dress. The one you’re wearing now, staring at yourself in the floor length mirror propped against your bedroom wall, is one you’d purchased for your college graduation to wear beneath your gown - simple and flowy, falling to just about your mid-thigh, and the only redeeming quality for even being considered a wedding dress is its white color. Still - it isn’t as though it’s a real wedding, in the traditional sense, so it doesn’t make sense for you to spend too much on a gown you’ll don for a trip to the courthouse and then get sad whenever you look at it again, post-divorce.

No, you don’t think you like it. You’d liked it for your graduation but for a wedding (your wedding) you wish you had something just a bit nicer, and you want to strip out of it and change back into your jeans but Harry’s sitting in your living room, waiting for you to model the stupid thing for him, and you’d hate to disappoint him. So you inhale softly, run your hand down the fabric, soft beneath your fingers, and reach for the door.

Harry’s on his phone when you step out of your bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind you, his body looking strangely large where he’s perched on the small loveseat in your living room. Everything in your apartment seems too small for him - or just too small in general - and it’ll be a nice change to live in a house where you can hold gatherings of more than 5 people without feeling like sardines in a can.

“Har,” you call, reaching down to tug the ends of your dress just a bit further down your thighs as you step further into the living room, bare feet padding against the plush rug your parents had gotten you as a Christmas gift the year prior. “What do you think of the dress?” You can hear the click of his phone as he turns it off, dropping it on the cushion beside him, and heat creeps up your cheeks as his gaze turns to you - you should feel self conscious, the way his eyes roll up and down your body, drinking in every bit of your dress, but you fucking love it. Love the way his lips part into a small o and upturn into a grin, how he pushes himself to stand and close the distance between you two until he’s hardly two inches away from you, how he reaches down to pick up the end of your dress as though examining the fabric.

“Do you like it?” You question as Harry drops your dress, letting the fabric fall back down around your thighs. “Wasn’t sure if I did.”

“I love it,” he tells you, immediate and forceful and you can tell he means it with his whole chest - maybe you love it, too. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too simple, do you?” Maybe you’re fishing for more compliments but you allow yourself to do it shamelessly. “It was my graduation dress - remember?”

“I do remember,” Harry grins, tugging at the bottom of your dress, and keeping his hands busy is a nervous habit of his that you’ve grown to recognize from a hundred miles away, but you can’t think of why, exactly, he’d be nervous now. “Looked so pretty, walkin’ across tha’ stage. I was so proud.”

You smile, gaze dropping down to where his fingers are fiddling with the skirt of your dress, and you think you’ll wear this dress every single goddamn day if he reacts as positively to it as he is now. “You sound like my dad.”

His nose scrunches when you look back up at him, and your heart twists inside your chest. “Don’ make it gross.” You simply shrug, bringing your fingers up to drum against his shoulders through the fabric of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, his muscles flexing ever so slightly beneath your touch. “M’being serious, though. I love the dress. Y’make the prettiest bride on the planet - m’a lucky man, aren’t I.”

From the moment you walked out of your room you’ve been feeling heat burning your cheeks but it doesn’t stop you from gently smacking his shoulder. “Stop it - you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like y’already are, Mrs. Styles.”

Should that name make your stomach as topsy-turvy as it does? 

You shake your head, smoothing your palms over the front of your dress to both eradicate the wrinkles that adorn the fabric and to wipe off the sweat cropping up on your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous around Harry before and you can’t quite place your finger on why, but it’s getting more difficult to look him in the eye with your heart pounding as fast as it is. “I’m not gonna be Mrs. Styles for another week.” 

Harry exhales softly, fingertips tapping against your hip and you hadn’t even realized how close his hands were to that spot of your body - but it feels comforting, his touch on an oddly intimate part of you. “I can’t wait,” he says, and you can’t, either. ��Makin’ me a very lucky groom, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe could make you go crazy if you focus on it for too long, so you don’t - and it’s hard to focus on much other than Harry himself as his head drops down, forehead pressed to yours, and oh God you can smell his fucking gum, and if you tilt your head up ever so slightly -

Is he going to kiss you? You think your heart will explode but you’ve never wanted anything more so you tilt your head up, just a bit, grip tightening on his shoulder, and you can feel his breath growing warmer against your face -

The sound of Harry’s phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of your haze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands dropping off your hips, and your head drops downwards with a soft groan. It was so close. You could feel his breath against your face and how did that fucking opportunity pass you by? - “S’my mum. Fuck - m’sorry.” And you’re not sure if he’s apologizing for the call or what had (or, rather, had not) happened but it doesn’t matter.

One glance at the phone he’s tugged out of his pocket shows that he’s right - Anne’s contact photo smiles up at you and you give Harry a small nod, faking the smile you’re not feeling, before taking a step back against your plush carpet as he turns around, back to you, phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m gonna change,” you whisper to no one in particular. Harry’s head turns just a bit so you can catch the apologetic look on his face before he’s loudly greeting Anne, and you’ve never liked eavesdropping on their calls. So you turn and head to your bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind you and turning to stare at yourself, wide-eyed, in your mirror.

He almost kissed you.

He didn’t - but would he have? If Anne hadn’t rung him - would he have leaned down, breathing shaky, like how it always is when he’s nervous, and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours? And you would’ve known exactly how it feels to be kissed by him, whether it would be as dream-like as all the times you’ve dreamt of it. His hands on your hips, yours on his shoulders, bodies slotted together until your hands are roaming and you’re pushing him on to the couch, sliding into his lap and his hands would roam to your thighs -

It doesn’t do well to think about it now. You don’t want to get yourself too worked up about it - that doesn’t do anyone much good - and you don’t want to take too long to change. So you inhale a soft breath, smooth your clammy palms back over the front of your wedding dress, and you allow yourself one final glance in the mirror at the attire you’ll be donning in a week’s time before reaching around to your back, fiddling with the zipper until you can begin to tug it down.

 --

 You and Harry haven’t talked too much since you showed him your dress, and it’s probably not very great etiquette for an engaged couple, but you two have never been normal anyway.

He sent you a picture of the suit he’s wearing and it’s as every bit unconventional as your excuse of a wedding dress, and you told him that - how you would be a pair for the books, the opposite of what a regular married couple looks like. And you texted him just yesterday and asked if he would make you two a reservation at your favourite restaurant for dinner after the elopement (he always tended to get the nicer tables, and you don’t pretend not to know why) and he sent you back two thumbs-up emojis in response.

You’re getting married in three days, though. It would probably be best to talk about it with him before you cross that bridge but it’s never been one of your stronger areas, so you leave it be for now.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questions, tilting her head in so you can hear her against the thumping music of the club. Your friends had insisted on dragging you out for a bachelorette party the second they hard of your engagement and it would be out of character for you to refuse a night of drinks on them - even if you’d rather stay home and think about Harry and all the things you should’ve done when he was at your apartment. Getting drunk out of your mind does seem preferable to wallowing, though, now that you’re out and about and well on your way to getting smashed - so you turn to Olivia and nod once, a simple jerk of your head.

“I’m fine,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the cocktail Amy had gotten for you and bringing the straw to your lips. “Just thinking about Harry.”

Amy snorts from her spot across the booth, dipping her finger into her empty shot glass and licking up the droplet she collected. “Can’t believe it took you two so long to get together.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” interjects Olivia, reaching over to grab your glass out of your hand and taking a sip of your drink. “How long have you two been together again?”

Fuck. You’re in the grey area between being tipsy and being drunk and you can’t remember how long you and Harry had claimed to be together. Was it a year or two years? You think it’s a year - you’d wanted to go as low as possible with your answer. Did we say six months? That seems too low. “I’ve liked him since I’ve known him,” you answer instead, which is absolutely the truth, and Amy and Olivia are both too drunk to ponder about your evasion of the question. “Loved him, even.”

Your fingers brush against your phone, sitting on the table face down, as your friends playfully swoon - the last time you’d texted Harry was to tell him you were going to the club, and you hadn’t checked to see if he responded. It’s always been a habit between the two of you to text where you’re going, in case something happens, which seems oddly barbaric at times but you’ve always appreciated it.

“You’re so lucky,” Amy informs you, reaching across the booth to intertwine your fingers. She gets sappy when she’s drunk and you can tell from the distinct crack in her voice that she’s mere seconds away from bursting into tears and professing how much she loves you and Olivia - you don’t ever quite enjoy being around to see that. “I mean, really. You and Harry - we always knew it would happen -”

“I should call him real quick,” you mumble, watching as her eyes water over, and Olivia rolls her eyes with a grin as she scoots around the other side of the booth so Amy can throw her arms around her. You grab your phone and push yourself out of the booth, maneuvering through the crowd of people until you’ve reached the bathroom.

It's a single stall and the club is small enough that you only have to wait a minute or two before a thoroughly shitfaced woman stumbles out of the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoes, but she’s gone before you can point it out to her. You brush it off with a shrug and shut the door behind you once you’re inside the bathroom - it smells like Febreze and mint soap, and the scent of the mint reminds you of Harry’s breath and you really need to call him, don’t you.

You’re scrolling through your call log before you can wonder if calling your best friend who you’re in love with while you may be quite drunk is a bad idea - the phone is ringing just as you begin to - and he’s picked it up just when you realize you’ve made a mistake.

“Hey, babe,” Harry says from the other end, voice crackling with the poor reception in the club. He sounds groggy and raspy and you can tell you’ve either woken him up or he’s trying to go to sleep, and you don’t actually know what time it is, you realize. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m at a club,” you tell him, and you can hear his soft exhale of air and you can practically picture the slow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m out with Amy and Olivia - they wanted to take me out for a bachelorette party or something - s’kinda dumb, I dunno -”

“Are y’drunk? S’just, you’re slurrin’ a lot -”

“I’m tipsy,” as you sit back on the closed toilet seat, fingernails digging into your thigh. You don’t actually know what you’d called him to say but four days without talking to Harry seems like it’s setting some sort of record and you hate it. “Just wanted to call because - um - well, I miss you.”

For a second you think the call may have broken up - you can’t hear much beside his soft breathing, and you pull the phone away to check if it’s still connected. But then he sighs softly, and you’re quick to press your phone back to your ear. “I miss y’too, m’love - ‘course I do.”

“That’s sweet.” You hum softly, kicking your toes against the tiled bathroom floor. “I thought you might be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “That’s why I was confused. But you haven’t texted me much.”

You can fucking sense him rolling his eyes. “Well, y’didn’t text me either. I thought you were mad at me -”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what happened the other day,” you interject, and you know you wouldn’t be telling him this if you weren’t teetering more towards being drunk instead of tipsy, “and I really wanted to kiss you, you know. I mean, I thought you were going to - and then it didn’t happen.”

“Well, m’mum called.”

“Would you have done it if she didn’t?”

There’s a pause for only the briefest of seconds before Harry says, “‘Course I would have.”

Your heart flutters inside your chest and you lean your head back against the wall, nails digging further into your thigh and it’s difficult to hold back the grin that threatens to split your goddamn face in two. God, he would have. He would have kissed you - does he love you like how you love him? It seems fucking unreal, like something you’d dream up in your deepest sleep. You’d never thought Harry would ever feel the same way, even as you got a fucking marriage license together and planned out the dinner you’d eat after your elopement and -

You can’t think of a single other one of your friends who would fucking marry you for any reason, house or no house, life or death. And who would you do it for? Not Amy, not Olivia, even if they asked you nicely. It’s a commitment - a huge one - one that you wouldn’t be willing to do for anyone.

But you’d do it for Harry, in a heartbeat. You know you would. You’d have the fucking dress on before he could finish asking, and isn’t that what you had done, really? He hadn’t had to convince you much at all. You’d been willing from the get-go.

“Really?” Your voice is barely a breath, a soft exhale of air, reeking of the giddy joy you’re feeling at his proclamation. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Y’know I never lie to you.” Harry sounds nearly offended at the mere idea. “You are m’fiance. Comes with a code of conduct.”

You roll your eyes, and just then there’s a loud knock against the door - you jump violently, phone nearly slipping from your grasp. For a minute you’d forgotten you’re in a club bathroom and you know you’ve been here far too long to be appropriate - you’ll give yourself just one more minute to talk to Harry. “What about when we get divorced? Gonna lie to me then?”

“Always talkin’ about the divorce,” he murmurs, and his voice sounds so full of adoration that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. “D’you have such little confidence about the strength of our relationship?”

If it were up to you, you’d be with Harry forever - but you can’t tell him that, not yet. “It’s not as though it’s a traditional relationship, you know. I don’t think most marriages that began for the sake of a house inheritance last too long,” you smile, feeling heat burning up your face even if he can’t see you. “Just generally speaking.”

“Hope y’got the statistics t’back that one up -”

Another louder knock shakes you again, and you jump up as though someone had set you aflame. Your phone nearly slips out of your clammy grasp once more and you clear your throat, lowering the device to your shoulder and calling, “Just a second!” to whoever’s waiting impatiently outside. You raise your phone back to your ear and clear your throat again. “I’ve gotta go, Har. I’m in the bathroom at the club - been in here a bit too long.”

“Aright,” Harry says, and you can hear soft shuffling from the other end, audio still crackled by the reception. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

You tilt your head to the side, scrunching your nose up before remembering he can’t see you. “I think it’s tradition for the bride and groom not to see each other before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“I’ll see you at the courthouse, Har,” you tell him, before pulling the phone from your ear and hanging up. For a second you can’t move, staring down at Harry’s contact in your phone with a giddy grin that surely makes you look like some child in a candy store - and, in a way, you are - and it’s only a third knock at the bathroom door that has you scrambling out the door, giving an apologetic grin to the girl waiting impatiently.

 --

 Being married - for the record - doesn’t feel too much different than before.

There’s a shiny ring on your finger that Harry had bought, and when you glance across the table where he’s sitting, clutching his menu, you can see the similar wedding ring on his left hand - it’s simplistic and small and contrasts with the rest of his clunky rings and it makes you feel strangely warm inside when you spend too long looking at it. And, even after you and Harry had talked at the club, your ‘post-elopement’ dinner doesn’t feel entirely different than all of the other dinner dates you’d shared before the entire situation began. It’s familiar and sweet and his ankle is hooked around yours under the table, forcing a permanent heat onto your cheeks.

Harry rests his menu on the table, fingertips drumming against the laminated paper, and you similarly drop yours to look at him. “Think m’gonna get the spaghetti.”

It’s a testament to the slight air of awkwardness surrounding you both that the only thing he can think to talk about is the food he’s getting - but you’ll play along. “I like the raviolis,” you tell him. “Think I’ll get those.”

He hums softly, pushing his menu further into the table. “Can y’believe tha’ we’re married? I can’t. Seems so weird.”

“Doesn’t feel that different,” you disagree, toes tapping against his ankle beneath the table. “It’s not like we didn’t go out for dinner together before we got hitched.”

“We’re playin’ footsies under the table, babe.”

You grin down at your napkin, resting on your lap on top of your wedding dress. “Be careful or I’ll kick you, Har.”

His ankle tightens just a bit around yours beneath the table and you could watch that small smile spreading across his face for the rest of your life. “Y’wouldn’t dare - don’t y’love me?”

Yes, you do, so you resist the urge to unhook your ankle from around his and deliver a swift kick to his calf - just rest your palms on the table, scratching lightly at the rustic wood of the table. It’s hard for you to even pretend to be mad at him when all you can think about is how much you want to climb over the table and straddle him - as his wife you suppose it isn’t an insane thought, and you’re nearly certain he’s feeling the same way. Hadn’t he told you he would have kissed you if he hadn’t been called by Anne? Maybe you’ll get a chance to do it again - later. You’ll never give up the opportunity again.

“When d’you get t’move into the house?” Harry questions, leaning in just a bit in his seat. 

“A few months, I think.” You shrug. “Reckon I’ll start redecorating before then, though. I’m already looking at furniture - I’ve gotta save up for most of it, though. Might sell my apartment before then.” There’s a pause, and then you shrug once more, picking at a crack in the table. “I’ll probably move back in with my parents.”

Harry’s eyebrows are raised when you glance up at him, fingers paused in their drumming on the menu. “Are y’kidding? We’re married. You can move in wit’ me.”

“I can’t ask you to do that -”

“Not asking, are you? Even if we didn’t just elope at a courthouse, you’re still m’best friend. Can’t have you moving in t’your mum’s basement.”

You smile softly, flattening your palms against the table and craning your neck to examine the ring - proof that it had really happened, that you’re really married. It still doesn’t feel quite real, no matter how many times you and Harry casually talk about it. “Was gonna live in her attic, actually.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay f’the furniture, too. Don’t look at me like tha’ - s’our house. Needs t’be ready f’when we move in.”

You hesitate, trying poorly to conceal the way your grin is arching further upwards at the mere prospect of what he’s hinting at. Living with Harry? Jesus, even if you weren’t in love with him, living with him sounds like an absolute dream, only made better by your feelings for him. And picturing walking through an Ikea, searching for furniture, feeling his arm around your shoulders as you two look online for decorations - if heaven were a place on Earth, it would be your Aunt Alice’s estate, soon inhabited by you and your husband. “Well, we’ll talk about it, alright?” you land on as your response. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything, and the silence isn’t as stifling with awkwardness as it had been before. Then Harry reaches over, resting his hand overtop of yours, fingers instinctively intertwining, and your heart nearly splits itself in two - he initiated it, holding your hand, and maybe you shouldn’t feel so surprised but you can’t fucking help it. Your scalp is tingling and you swear your eyes are going to bubble over and his hand feels just as soft and beautiful as you’d expected - as you’d always dreamed of.

You’re not sure when, exactly, there would ever be a better time to tell him than now, so you clear your throat and squeeze his hand and confess, “I’ve liked you for a really long time, Har.”

Sharing your feelings isn’t necessarily your strongest spot but you’re feeling egged on by absolutely everything, and the way Harry brushes his thumb against your palm encourages you to continue. “I mean - since we met, basically - but I never told you. Never thought you would like me back.”

“I did,” he interjects, and you look up at him with furrowed brows. “Liked you back, I mean. Clearly - hope y’didn’t think I’d run off an’ marry anybody this fast.”

“I just thought you were being nice.”

“You’re silly, then.”

“A real idiot,” you proclaim, rubbing soft circles into the back of Harry’s hand, and you swear you’ll never let go unless someone fucking rips you away. “Guess I should’ve figured it out, then - seems like we did everything in the wrong order, right?”

Harry snorts, a noise that draws the slightest attention from an older couple sitting at a table beside you, but neither of you pay them any attention. “Get married first, fall in love second.”

“I was already in love,” and you’re not sure why, exactly, you had said that but it feels right and true falling off your tongue so you decide, pointedly, not to regret it.

There’s no hesitation when Harry responds, voice laced with the authenticity you’re so desperately craving - “Reckon I was, too.” You barely get a minute to process that and how it’s making your stomach do flips and turns like an Olympic medalist before he’s standing up, fingers still interlocked with yours to pull you up with him. “How d’you feel ‘bout a sleepover tonight?”

“A sleepover?”

He barely looks at you as he fishes through the pocket of his dress pants to pull out his wallet. “Not like we haven’t had them before.”

That’s true - you’ve slept over at Harry’s house so many times, it’s like a second home to you - but you have a distinct idea that, based off of your previous conversation and the wedding rings shining on both of your fingers, this sleepover will be just a bit different. 

“Skipping out on the reservation, then?” you question, squeezing Harry’s hand as he tosses a $50 onto the table - a significant overkill for your lemonade and his Coke but you suppose he’s feeling rather generous today. “I am rather hungry.”

“We’ll eat at my house,” he insists, leading you through the maze of tables with a grip that’s so tight, you wonder if he’s having the same qualms as you are about never letting go. “Y’like pizza, don’t you?”

 --

 You’ve been in Harry’s house more times than you can count, but it’s never been like this.

His hand is still firm in yours and it’s a feeling you adore - even if his palm has gotten clammier with every second, every step you took closer to his front door, and you can practically smell the nervousness rolling off of him. It’s not unlike the worry that’s overtaken you because you’re not quite sure what he’s expecting - only know what you want to happen and you pray to any god above that your desires align with his.

The sound of Harry shutting the door is the only crack of noise burning through the otherwise thick silence surrounding you. Neither of you had known what to say and the car ride was taken in comfortable silence, hands clasped and heads bobbing to soft music playing on the radio, but being in his house is different - there’s no music, no excuse for Harry to keep his eyes off of you, nowhere to lean your head and pretend to be resting your eyes while your heart uncontrollably thumps against your chest.

In ways, it’s better. Most ways, in fact.

Slowly, you turn to face Harry, fingers drumming against the back of his hand. His breathing is heavy and his eyes never leave yours, and you’re reminded remarkably of trying on your dress for the first time in front of him and your position hadn’t been too unlike this one - maybe now you can do it right.

It feels entirely natural, tilting your head up until you can easily slot your lips to Harry’s. They’re soft and plump and he kisses you back with a vigor you hadn’t quite expected - deepening it before you have the chance to react, his free hand that’s not clutching yours roaming to your neck and you can’t ignore the way your stomach flips at the feeling of his hand on your throat. But then his hand keeps moving up, palm pressing to your cheek in such a sweet gesture that doesn’t at all match the intensity with which he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth - your hand lands on his waist, gripping the flowy material of his dress shirt, pulling his body as close to yours as you can get.

You only pull away to catch your breath, grip tightening on his shirt to ensure he won’t move away - you need him close to you, need to feel his body against yours - the bulge near his thigh that you can feel against your pelvis, hardening with every second that passes.

“Why’d you move?” Harry questions, voice soft and vulnerable and you can’t help but lean up and land another kiss to his mouth. 

“Had to breathe, Har,” you murmur, smoothing your hands against his waist and the wrinkles you’ve surely created in the fabric. His fingers brush the edge of your jawline and you can feel your skin growing goosebumps beneath his touch.

He simply hums in response, ducking his head down to kiss you again. It’s sweeter this time, soft and fluffy but you don’t want that now - God, you want his hand around your neck and his knee between your thighs but perhaps that’ll have to wait for another time. You’re needy for just about anything you can get and if that’s sugary sweet kisses, a touch so gentle you could trick yourself into believing it isn’t there, then you’re more than grateful.

Harry’s teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to have you moaning into his mouth and your nails dig into his through his shirt - the resulting whine into your mouth has you smirking against his lips, pushing your hips further into his. It’s the clearest way you can think of to tell him that you need him beyond kisses and touches.

“Jesus,” he breathes and you can feel his cock, twitching against your thigh and it’s a sensation you never thought you’d be able to experience outside of your deepest dreams - it feels twice as good as you’d imagined. “Gonna make me go crazy, babe.”

That’s exactly what you want.

“Hey,” and you pull away from him, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath still hot on your face, “don’t we have to fulfill the tradition of consummating the marriage?”

He laughs, a loud exhalation of air rather than his true barking laugh, but you smile anyway at the sound. “S’not the middle ages - no one’s expecting us to, if y’don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to.” Harry’s hand slides backwards into your hair, pulling the strands into a ponytail and tugging and your resulting moan has him smirking like a smug bastard against your lips. “God, Har. I really want to.”

It seems that that was the exact response he’d wanted - you get one last lingering kiss to your lips before Harry’s pulling away, hand falling away from your hair and other still interlocked with your own. You don’t have a second to question where, exactly, he’s leading you but then he’s tugging you through the foyer and down the halls and up the staircase you’ve grown to know so well - the trek to his bedroom has never seemed so viciously long until now, but by the time Harry swings open the door, you feel as though you’ve been walking for hours instead of barely a minute.

“On the bed, babe,” he directs you, all raspy tone and dominance lacing every last syllable and you can’t ignore the gush of arousal you can feel rushing straight to your core. It’s the stuff that makes up dreams, really, his fucking voice, and you know just the four simple words would be enough to get you off for years from now. “C’mon.”

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying - your footsteps are nearly completely silent on the carpet as you walk over to the end of Harry’s bed, pushing yourself up to sit on the plush duvet, sinking into the mattress that feels like an absolute cloud compared to the rock you’re used to sleeping on. For a brief second, he doesn’t move - just stands and stares at you, chest heaving through the baby blue dress shirt that your needy grasp had wrinkled. Then he moves, shutting the door with a barely perceptible click before making his way over to you, gazing up at him with heat blazing in your eyes.

Perhaps you’re expecting him to push you onto the bed, to fulfill the dominant tone he’d held before, so it is a bit of a surprise to see your best friend (your husband) dropping to his knees before you, fingertips ever so gently trailing up and down your calves.

The bedroom is so silent, save for your panting breaths and Harry’s shaky ones and you reckon he may be more nervous than you are - you’d expected him to handle all of the confidence between you two but his fingers are shaking as he pulls off your heels, resting them side by side on the carpet at the end of the bed. Chills crop up over your skin as his gentle touch roams up your legs, landing on your knee, and your breath hitches in your throat as the man you’ve loved for nearly 5 years leans in, lips landing a soft kiss to the top of your calf.

This isn’t what you had expected - him fucking worshipping you, on his knees - you’d never pictured it in a million years. And maybe it’s proof of the difference between him and the other guys you’d been with - your ex-boyfriends and flings had always been worried about their pleasure, never paying you any attention, and Harry couldn’t be closer to the end of the spectrum. Your entire body feels warm beneath his watchful gaze and touch, how he brings one hand up to snap firmly when your eyes flutter shut. 

“Look at me,” Harry directs, and despite the slight strain in his actions, his words still hold a never-faltering dominance that he’d had before. “C’mon, babe. I don’ want you to look away from me - can y’do that?”

It’s a task that’s easier said than done, but you nod anyway, swallowing thickly as Harry redirects his attention back to your legs. His hand, resting delicately on your left knee as though you’d break if he put too much pressure, slides down the length of your leg until he’s grasping your ankle, kneading the soft skin in his grasp while his lips linger at the top of your knee.

Using his grip on your ankle, Harry hoists your leg up onto the bed without warning, your toes digging into the end of the bed - uses his other hand to push your thigh outward so you’re on display for him like a goddamn feast and his smug grin proves that he can see just how wet you are, soaking through the white lace panties you’d chosen for the occasion. Heat blooms up your cheeks as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing your soft skin, and then he gives a dramatic inhale and - that’s -

You reach down, bracing both palms on the side of his face and forcing your husband (husband!) to look at you in the eye. He looks confused by your interjection and apologetic and that isn’t what you were going for but you hadn’t expected him to want to eat you out - most guys didn’t.

“You don’t have to do that, Har,” you murmur, giving a pointed glance to your lap that he’s been eyeing like it’s his dessert. “I won’t be mad.”

And Harry looks almost offended by the prospect of not wanting to, like you’d insulted him - “I want to. D’you not want me to?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice hardly above a breath, and when he begins to pull away you continue. “No! I mean - yes, I want you to.”

He grins, wide and toothy and reminding you of exactly why you’d fallen for him in the first place, and you settle back into your spot on the bed with your nerves almost completely eradicated. He wants to - he’s not doing it because he feels obligated - it’s already a step up from any other guy you’d ever been with.

Fingers trail up your thighs as Harry’s lips close around the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, cheeks hollowing as he sucks a deep purple hickey, and you lift your hips just a bit so he can hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties and begin to tug them down. The crotch area is practically dripping with your arousal and it takes a bit more force to tug it away from your cunt but once they’re gone, Harry grabs your ankle again and straightens out your leg, making it easier for him to tug the offending material down your body and toss them away from the bed before resting your foot back on the edge.

You can hear his shaky breathing as he pulls his lips away from your thigh, thumb smoothing over the mark he’d left as if to prove it exists. You’d get it fucking tattooed if you could - to forever commemorate this experience - his mark in such a secretive place, just a breath away from where you need him most.

“Jus’ - jus’ tell me if y’want me t’stop,” Harry tells you, eyes interlocking with yours once more, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Lean back f’me, then - not too far, jus’ a bit - still need t’see you.”

So you lean back, propping yourself up on your arms, a barely reclined position from how you’d been sitting before. It’s easier to see him as he grabs the hem of your dress, tugs it up just a bit, but when you lift your hips so he can pull it out from under your ass he doesn’t comply - well, perhaps he has other plans with it, doesn’t want the dress to come off just yet, and you can respect that.

The time it takes for Harry to duck his head beneath your dress, tongue flicking against your overly sensitive folds, seems like fucking years even if it’s hardly a second, but when he does your hips instinctively jerk forward into his mouth. His eyes are flashing when he looks up at you and you breathe out a stream of apologies, heart thumping in your chest, fingernails digging into the comforter beneath you. “Don’ move,” he directs, and you nod again and again and you don’t stop until his lips close in around your clit.

Your head drops back with a low moan as Harry’s teeth graze your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the sensitive nub like it’s what he was born to do. The bottom of your dress covers the top of his head so you can’t see what he’s doing - you have no idea what his next move is and it makes the pleasure rolling through your body that much better.

“Fuck - fuck, Har -” the only two words you can think to moan roll off your tongue like a mantra, your back arching upwards despite his warning not to move but he doesn’t mention it - just drags one hand up, fingertips light and dancing on your thighs until he can splay his forearm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the bed. Your hand moves from digging into the sheets to digging into his scalp, tugging at the loose strands of hair that smell ever so slightly of gel and it makes your heart swell to imagine him putting product in his hair for the elopement - but before you have time to dwell on the sweetness of the sentiment, that talented tongue is licking a thin stripe up your folds before flicking your clit and you’re brought back to reality. “Fuck.”

“Feel good?” Harry mumbles, muffled where his face is pressed firm to your pussy and the vibrations of his words reverberate against your clit, sending a chill up your spine, and you let out a low whine at the sensation. 

“Yes,” you breathe in return, tugging at his hair just a bit, the strands forming a makeshift ponytail like he’d done to you before. “Feels so good, Harry, god -”

His head pulls back just a bit, hem of your dress dropping to just the tip of his nose so you can see his eyes - smug and glinting and you’re sure that, if you could see his mouth, those lips would be upturned into a smirk and practically dripping with your arousal - but he goes back in just as soon as he’d pulled out, burying his face in the apex of your thighs and you collapse back against the bed with a shout.

Whatever order he’d given you to maintain eye contact disappears. It isn’t as though you can see his eyes anyway, and you couldn’t stop yours from rolling back into your head if you tried. Ecstasy rolls through your body and, God, you know you’re close already, thighs tensing under where Harry’s palm kneads the soft skin, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll see bruises tomorrow. Your cunt clenches and flutters around the emptiness you’re yearning to get rid of and your back arches up again, Harry’s restraint on your torso not enough to stop it now, and you’re so fucking close.

“Harry -” you moan, digging your fingernails into Harry’s scalp and relishing in his responding moan to your clit - “gonna cum, Har -”

He doesn’t say anything - but you can feel his tongue continuing its work, up and down your folds and circling your clit and that’s response enough. Your hips jerk into his face, back arching as you grasp his hair tight enough that it has to fucking hurt but then you’re cumming and -

“Oh, fuck!”

Your voice is high pitched, cracked with a desperate sob right in the middle of your words before you’re holding Harry’s head to your pussy, his tongue working your clit like he was born for it, his low moans muffled against you. The hand previously holding down your torso slides up your body until he can shove his hand into the top of your dress, tugging it down so your chest is. He plucks at your nipple before grasping your tit, full in his palm, and the added stimulation prolongs your orgasm, hips rolling against Harry’s working mouth.

You can’t see straight when Harry pulls his head out from the bottom of your chest but when your vision focuses you’re beyond thankful. His chin is glistening with your arousal, tongue poking out to lap at the moisture on his lips and he dons that shit-eating grin you’ve grown to know so well. You usually see it when he wins a board game or when you’re celebrating something - seeing it on his face after he’s finished giving you the best orgasm you’ve ever gotten is certainly different but not unwelcome by anyone’s standards.

There’s a second where all you do is lie back and catch your breath - staring up at the ceiling above you, chest heaving as the aftershocks race through your body. Harry, meanwhile, pushes himself to his feet, muttering a small groan about God, m’fuckin knees and gettin’ too old for this, aren’t I?

Lazily you hold your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers, and he reaches out to interlock your fingers again. “How was that?” he questions, voice soft and almost insecure and it’s a sharp contrast from the dominance he held before, but you know it’ll come back.

“I think you’re a natural at that, Mr. Styles,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you pull him closer to you until his knees hit the bed and he’s forced to collapse on top of you, grin cracking onto his face. “Gonna undress me?”

“‘Course,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to place a brief kiss to your lips, but before you can lift your head to deepen it he’s rolling off of you, shifting onto his side and shuffling upwards so his head rests on the stack of pillows. You raise your eyebrows at him - it isn’t as though he can take your dress off from that position - but, as though he can read your mind, he raises his hand and pats his lower stomach pointedly. “Climb up, babe.”

For what seems like the millionth time today, you can feel heat pulsing in your cheeks but you hope it doesn’t show - just sit up, swing your legs around so you’re straddling Harry, hands on his chest and gazing down at him like the God he seems to be. His hair is splayed out on the pillows beneath him, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and you can’t help yourself - lean down to land your lips to his again, and this time both of you allow it to deepen. His hand starts at your cheek like it had before but you reach for it, fingers wrapping around his wrist and maneuvering it downwards until his palm is wrapped around the column of your throat, and he squeezes once experimentally.

You moan softly, hips rolling against the pointed bulge in his dress pants, and Harry’s eyebrows raise. “No fuckin’ way,” he breathes, squeezing again just to hear the way your breath catches. “Gonna be th’fuckin’ death f’me.”

You’re fine with that, and you reckon he is too.

You reach behind you, tapping along your back until you can reach the zipper. You’ve only tugged it down an inch or two before Harry’s free hand replaces yours, dragging the zipper down as far as it can go before reaching for the bottom of the dress. It’s gone in an instant - tossed off the edge of the bed, to be worried about later - and you can feel his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra before it comes undone, and then you’re naked.

You’d expected yourself to feel more embarrassed, or perhaps just nervous, and maybe it’s the effects of your previous orgasm but you’re feeling surprisingly calm - or maybe it’s how Harry looks up at you like you’re some sort of goddess sent from above, as though he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

It does wonders for your self esteem, truthfully.

“Gonna undress me, then?” Harry questions, hands smoothing up and down your thighs, eyes drinking in every bit of your exposed body on top of him.

You hum softly, pinching at the soft material of his shirt. “I don’t think so - want you to fuck me in your fancy clothes.”

“Well, if I’d known tha’ was an option -”

“Do you want me to put the dress back on?”

“No!”

You grin down at him before rolling your hips over his again, and it’s the last thing you manage to do before his grip lands on your hips and he’s flipping you over - your head lands dangerously close to hitting the headboard but it’s worth it, seeing him above you, fully clothed, pupils lust-blown and wide.

It hardly takes a second for Harry to undo the button to his pants and the sound of the zipper being undone is like music to your fucking ears - you spread your legs, letting him slot his body between them and oh, you can feel the tip of his fucking cock it’s right there and -

The first movement, Harry pushing himself inside of you, has you throwing your head back against the pillow, the moan coming from your throat mixing with a cry. He’s big - certainly bigger than you’d ever expected and bigger than any guy you’d been with - feels like he could split you in half if he wanted to but he stops, hands smoothing up and down your body, and you make a point of reaching for his hand and interlocking your fingers.

You’ll never grow tired of holding his hand, you think. Not for a while, anyway.

“How’re you doin’?” he questions, voice strained, and when your eyes shift back to him you can see the droplets of sweat beaded on his face. “Jus’ - jus’ tell me when, alright?”

“When,” you breathe almost immediately. You hadn’t needed too much time to adjust but you need him to move - you’re so pent up and you know it won’t take long to take you to your second orgasm but, God, he needs to fucking move. “Please, Har - please, fuck me.”

It doesn’t seem he needed much more encouragement than that. With one final move of wrapping his free hand firm around your neck and giving another small squeeze, Harry pulls out agonizingly slowly until just the tip of his cock remains in your heat. Just as you open your mouth to beg him to move again he slams back in with a force you hadn’t anticipated, your body rocking backwards of its own accord with the weight behind the thrust.

It’s exactly what you’d needed, though - fast and rough and his hand, cutting off your airflow just a bit, just enough to have you quivering beneath him. The low groan that rips out of his throat, reverberating through the humid bedroom has you pushing your hips up to his, trying to deepen where he’s buried inside of you to the hilt but you’re not sure how much deeper he could get. Feels like he could split you in half with every desperate thrust, every rut of his hips into yours and yours back into his.

“Oh - god - m’fuckin’ good girl, so tight around m’cock -”

Another rush of arousal gushes straight to your core with his filthy words and your head falls back into the pillow with a high whine, nails digging into the back of his hand as his other one tightens grip around your neck. It makes every desperate moan and cry that much airier and you can tell Harry likes it, staring down at you as his hips pound yours with absolutely no mercy and you don’t want any, anyway. It’s the subject of every single fantasy you’ve ever had about him, rough and hard and the sound of skin slapping skin overpowering your needy noises.

You’d never dreamt it would feel so good.

“Oh god, Harry!” Your eyes are rolling back into your head as your free hand trails down your stomach, shaking fingers focusing on your ignored clit and beginning tight circles around the nub. The jolts of pleasure that run through your body are - god, fucking amazing and you know you’re close, hardly need anything else to tip you over the edge. “Gonna - gonna cum, Har -”

It’s a testament to, perhaps, the long-growing tension between the two of you that his head drops backwards with a cry of me, too in a tone that’s so desperately vulnerable and it’s exactly what you’d needed - the reminder, in the midst of the rough thrusts and desperate moans, that this isn’t a one time thing. If you both allow it, it’s the rest of your life, just like this - and, God, you’ll allow it.

Your cunt clenches around your cock as you cum, eyes rolling back into your head and body spasming beneath him. In the midst of it Harry pulls out and you don’t get a second to question the sudden emptiness before you feel a familiar warmth hitting your lower stomach, and you open your eyes in time to see your husband, hand working at his cock as ribbons of cum spurt onto your stomach.

(You think you could cum again just from the sight but - well, you’ll hold back.)

His breathing is choppy and desperate, broken occasionally by a needy moan until he’s finished and he collapses on his back beside you, hands still intertwined with no intention of letting go. Nothing needs to be said - not yet - not for a little while, where you’ll talk about it more. 

A little while ends up merely being a minute or two before Harry swings his legs over the edge of the bed, hand still clasped in yours, and makes to stand up - it’s only your tightening grasp on his hand that forces him to stop, glancing behind him to look at you.

“Don’t,” you plead, throat already feeling sore and voice raspy. “Just - another minute, alright? Then clean up.”

He hums softly but you know he won’t resist the prospect of just a brief cuddle - one of the few things you hadn’t done often when you were just friends, because you knew that, if Harry held you as close to him as he is now, lips pressed to your forehead, you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him how you felt about him.

Doesn’t matter now, though. And his arms feel so warm around you, clammy palm still pressed to yours like a fucking couple in middle school but you wouldn’t dream of letting go. It’s all so - so peaceful, lying with him and listening to his heartbeat as you rest your head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat thumping as fast and hard as yours is.

And - well. Barely a month ago you were convinced your Aunt Alice was the worst woman in the world - a hypocrite and an asshole, set out to taunt you by lording your dream home over you and snatching it away when you couldn’t find a husband in time. But now? Feeling Harry, landing soft kisses again and again to your forehead, you figure she’s not so bad, after all.

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

“You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

[all-hail-mono-onion]

how bout 34? for the ask game

BITCH 👏 I 👏 HAVE 👏 BEEN 👏 WAITING 👏 FOR 👏 THIS 👏 ONE

34. What was the last dream you had?

tw for mild sexual harassment by elon musk tw gnomes tw riverdale (gag), also season 4 spoilers if u haven’t gotten there

the last dream i remember having was a fucking TRIP dude. anyway i can’t remember what happens in the very beginning but me and another woman go to a meeting with elon musk (and i’m like 25 and tall and blonde so basically the opposite of real life... it’s weird) and then we talk about business idr what the actual meeting was about EXCEPT that i said i had a penis and elon musk didn’t care but then i revealed that i actually DIDN’T have a penis and then he said “yo you wanna see mine” and me n the other girl were like ok and we went to elon musk’s bed but we didn’t do anything we kinda just sat there but at the end elon showed me that he had taken a picture of my (white lady) butt and he threatened to leak it but i lied and said i was an attorney and i’d sue so he got really scared and i think this is where the next dream begins.

so i was in my house at my desk talking to my mom (and i look like myself now) and i didn’t have pants on i just had a rly big shirt and the windows were open and MRS STEIN (my old kindergarten teacher whom i haven’t seen in ten years) like puts her face up to the window and waves and i have to smile and wave with my mom while hiding the fact that i’m not wearing pants anyway mrs. stein’s whole family comes over and by this time i’m wearing pants so anyway there r these three little kids and i never meet one of them bc i stay in the study but anyway this first kid is sad so i get him a huge balloon bundle from the balloon cupboard (which is like this huge storage section in the top of the wall behind my desk filled with super old inflated balloons that somehow haven’t deflated yet (the second little kid sees this and she asks how they haven’t been deflated and i said the storage space keeps it from deflating). anyway then the mom (like mrs. steins sister or niece or smth idk) who looks exactly like aunt cricket from season 4 of riverdale comes over and talks to me and she says that the way the balloon storage preserves the balloon integrity reminds her of her own jewelry boxes that are really large and make sure the jewelry doesn’t dull or rust. those jewelry boxes come into play later.

anyway mrs. stein’s family gets kicked out of our house bc the third kid that i never actually see ate a bunch of our cake without asking. then the dream transitions into the next scene which is in a weird basement looking area where a scene from riverdale season 4 is playing out but it’s not actually what happened it’s what i think WOULD have happened if jughead hadn’t faked his death and just been alive the whole time. so it’s basically a courtroom scene where betty and jughead r explaining how the kids from stonewall r actually the ones who tried to kill him and frame betty for it except it’s not in a courtroom it’s in a weird dimly lit basement. and i’m like omnipresent so i’m not actually in the scene but i can see everything that’s going on.

anyway betty is presenting the case but she says something (i can’t remember what she says) and cheryl stands up and calls out this mariachi-style band and they start playing VERY weird, jarring music like carnival music on crack and everyone around them except cheryl forgets what they were doing and just stares blankly but not me because i’m omniscient so me, cheryl, and the band are the only ones who kind of know what’s going on. anyway cheryl does this so that she can speak her mind (and it’s weird bc it has nothing to do with the actual hearing it’s just her telling a story about her childhood) and basically she would tell a part of the story and then when ppl started becoming fully conscious again she’d make the band play again and it was like a loop but each time she would tell a new part of the story.

so the story was how her parents were forcibly separated from each other at a young age (and this is not from the show this is just my brain) and her aunt (I RECOGNIZED HER AUNT AS THE LADY WHO TALKED TO ME ABOUT JEWELRY IN MY HOUSE because when cheryl told the story it had like graphics to accompany it like a fever dream) anyway her aunt had weird powers so she would “poison” cheryl’s family’s food to make any food (but she specifically mentioned chinese food, so it made dream-me think her aunt was kinda racist) taste like blood. except her mom’s cooking, so that all the kids would want their moms cooking instead of literally any other food. cheryls mom was also in on it.

AND IT TURNS OUT that they were eating GNOMES (in my dream she said goblins but they had tiny hats and everything so when i woke up i realized they were actually gnomes) and those gnomes were being stored in HER AUNT’S JEWELRY BOXES. and that’s where the jewelry boxes come into play.

then there’s an additional scene right after that (like at the end) where it seems like a couple of days had passed since the hearing and i was corporeal again so i had a body and it looked like me. i was in my study and i opened my balloon storage compartment (which doesn’t actually exist in real life but it was pretty prominent in the dream) and THERE WERE A BUNCH OF BIG JEWELRY BOXES CRAMMED WITH LIVE GNOMES AND IT WAS SO SCARRING and then i woke up.

enjoy

[huphilpuffs]

fluttering

summary: There’s a moth in Dan’s house, so he Skypes Phil. 2009 fic.  word count: 2.5k rating: g warnings: bugs (and the killing of a bug if that makes you uncomfy) a/n: Big thanks to @tortitabby for the beta read and title!

ao3 link

Dan is never leaving his bedroom while home alone again. 

He just wanted food, just a little midnight snack—okay, fine, maybe more like midnight dinner—to eat while playing video games. That’s it. Just some reheated pizza to quell his hunger before going back to his room to play Mortal Kombat at full volume while no one’s here to tell him off for being up so late. 

But no, of course he can’t just enjoy a night to himself. Of course something had to go wrong.

Of course there’s a bloody moth planted right above his bedroom door.

His chest is tight, his hands shaking. Suddenly, his stomach really, really doesn’t want any pizza. 

The moth is big, and dark, and just sitting there and Dan can’t move. He definitely can’t walk under it. He turns on his heel and walks back into the kitchen. 

Maybe it’ll fly away, and Dan can go into his room and spend the rest of his night thinking about how there’s a moth somewhere in his house. It sounds better than having to actually deal with the thing.

---

Five minutes later, the moth is still there. 

It hasn’t moved. Not an inch. Not even a flick of it’s wing. Dan’s given up on sitting in the kitchen waiting for it to move. He’s settled on the floor with his knees tugged to his chest, legs jittering with anxiety, staring at the fucking moth from a distance. He keeps flicking his phone on and off, and his brief attempt to distract himself with YouTube failed miserably.

For a moment, he considers calling his mum, but she and his dad and Adrian are gone to visit family out of town. He almost calls his nan. She’d probably come, or at least tell him what to do, but she’s definitely asleep by now and a moth seems like a dumb reason to wake her.

It’s all dumb. Dan feels dumb.

He opens his text messages anyway.

Dan: u awake?

Phil: Yeah! What’s up?

Dan: come on skype plz

Phil must open Skype before he answers the text, because the little green bubble pops up next to his name. Dan hits the button to call him just as his phone vibrates in his hand. 

He stares at the moth as the ringtone plays. It still doesn’t move.

Phil’s smiling when he answers the call. “Hey!” he says. His brows furrow, smile pinching into a frown. “You okay? You look, uh, sweaty?”

“There’s a moth in my house,” he hisses, sneaking another glance up at it. 

Still no movement.

When he looks back at his computer, Phil’s covering his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh.

---

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, not funny.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Very convincing.”

“It was just unexepected,” says Phil. “Tell me about this moth?”

“Uh.” Dan glares at it. “It’s big, looks black but that’s probably because it’s dark in here. It’s just sitting there.”

“Where?”

“Above my bedroom door.”

Phil nods. He looks like he’s actually taking this seriously now and Dan’s not sure if that makes it better or worse that he’s sitting on the stairs of his house in just his pants panicking because of a moth while Skyping his boyfriend. 

“Why can’t you just kill it?” says Phil. 

“It’s a moth.” 

A smile quirks at the corner of Phil’s mouth. “Right, right, how could I forget.”

God, Phil probably thinks this is so stupid. Dan should have called his nan after all. Then this just would have ended up one of those terrible stories his aunts laugh about at family events. It’s probably better than embarrassing himself in front of Phil. He’s already always embarrassed in front of his family anyway. 

Dan groans, pressing his face between his knees. “This is stupid.”

“Hey, no it’s not,” says Phil. He’s frowning again when Dan looks up. He looks actually worried. “Do you want to kill it or just get rid of it?”

He looks at the moth again. It’s still sitting there, clearly not giving a shit about all the trouble it’s causing Dan. 

Hugging his knees even tighter to his chest, he huffs. “Whatever gets rid of it faster.”

Phil nods, just once. “Okay,” he says, “so here’s what you’re gonna do.”

---

“I hate you,” Dan announces on his second trip up the stairs. “You’re making me do exercise.”

“Hey!” says Phil. “You’re the one who wanted help getting rid of your little moth problem.”

Dan sighs. Phil’s voice is but a faint whisper now as he makes his third trek back downstairs to find another flashlight and fetch the step stool from the closet, just in case. It’s heavy over his shoulder and he’s huffing by the time he gets it all the way up the stairs and he can hear Phil’s faint laughter coming from his computer.

“I think you’re just doing this to make me look ridiculous.”

He sits back down on the top step, surrounded by all the supplies Phil had him go get. There’s a fly swatter and kitchen roll, his mum’s oven mitts and two flashlights and the stepping stool, all laid out around him in a circle. Three trips up and down the stairs and the moth’s still just sitting there. 

It probably doing it just to spite Dan now.

“I would do no such thing,” says Phil, even though he’s smiling. “I love you and would never take advantage of your moth phobia for the sake of my own amusement.”

Dan glares. “It’s not a phobia.”

Phil’s brows raise, and Dan realizes it probably doesn’t sound very convincing, given that he’s surrounded by supplies to get rid of the stupid thing. It’s been well over half an hour since he first came down to get food and Dan’s still sitting on the floor trying to build up the nerve to go near the stupid thing.

“Fine, whatever,” he says. “What do I do next?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” says Phil.

“Oh no.”

The corner of Phil’s mouth lifts almost sympathetically. “You’re gonna need to set up a flashlight to lure the moth somewhere else.”

Dan frowns. “Fuck.”

---

It takes another five minutes for Dan to muster the courage to walk by the moth.

He grabs the smaller of the two flashlights and fidgets with it for a long moment. Then he sets up his laptop so Phil can see down the upstairs corridor, just in case the moth tries to attack Dan for invading it’s territory or something. Not that it’s very likely to do that, Dan supposes.

Still, it makes him feel better to know Phil’s looking out for him. 

“I just need to set up the flashlight and then come back, right?”

“Yup,” says Phil. “Google says moths like light.”

“That’s probably why the bloody thing ended up by my room,” says Dan. He looks back down the hallway. The bathroom’s just one door down and then maybe the moth will come towards the ground and he can get rid of the stupid thing. “Now?”

“When you’re ready,” says Phil. 

Dan nods. He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He can do this. It’s just an insect. And it hasn’t even moved the entire time it’s been there. It won’t move now. Probably.

He takes another breath, and then runs past the moth like a kid, darting into the bathroom. His hands are shaking again as he sets up the flashlight so it beams through the doorway and paints a bright circle on the hallway wall. The moth might land there, he realizes, but it’s better than having it planted right above his bedroom door.

The moth doesn’t move towards the flashlight. Dan’s almost glad. That would require it moving towards him right now, too.

He still needs to walk by it again. It takes him another few moments, which he spends regulating his breathing and staring pointedly at the moth, before he musters the courage to rush back. 

Phil’s smiling when Dan drops back onto the ground in front of his laptop. 

“What?” asks Dan. “I didn’t Skype you to be your entertainment for the night, you know.”

“I know,” says Phil. “It’s just that you’re really cute.”

Oh. Well, that makes Dan’s chest go a little warm, even though his heart is still racing and his breathing coming a tad too shallow. He hugs his knees to his chest again, pressing his face between them to keep from smiling because he probably should be annoyed that Phil’s so entertained by the whole situation. 

“I’m not cute,” says Dan.“I’m a very manly man.”

Phil giggles. “Right, of course. My manly boyfriend.”

“Uh huh.” Dan peaks up to find Phil staring at him the same way he does during late, sappy nights. It’s a better distraction than any corner of YouTube could ever be. He rests his chin against his knees, letting himself smile back. “How was your day?”

Phil shrugs. “Boring,” he says. “Better now that I get to talk to you.”

Dan’s chest goes all fluttery and warm. “Sorry I’m a mess today.”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Phil, so impossibly sincere. “I still get to talk to you.”

His eyes look so blue, even through shitty Skype quality, and his smile so sweet, and for a moment Dan almost considers picking up his laptop, rushing into his room, and spending the rest of his night like this. The moth will probably disappear by morning. Except part of him knows the lingering anxiety would keep him from fully enjoying Phil’s company.

He always wants to fully enjoy every part of Phil.

“How are you feeling now?” 

Dan hums. “Better,” he says. “Is it weird that you make me feel safe even, like, when you’re not actually here.”

“Not weird,” says Phil. He sounds like he means it. “Wish I could be there to make you feel safe in person.”

Dan pouts. It’s probably pitiful but it makes Phil smile, and that’s all that really matters.

---

“It still hasn’t moved.”

It’s been way too many minutes since Dan set the flashlight up in his bathroom. His back is starting to ache from sitting hunched over on the hard floor for so long. The anxiety is starting to come back, and not even Phil telling him about the video concept he’s been working on can make it fully go away again.

The moth is still planted, perfectly still, just above Dan’s bedroom door.

Phil frowns. “I think you’re moth is defective,” he says.

Dan’s insides seem to shudder. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“I think it means you need to kill it there,” says Phil.

Dan swallows. “Definitely worse.”

--- 

Per Phil’s instructions, he closes his bedroom door and sets the step stool up in front of it so that he knows for sure he can reach it. He holds the fly swatter in one hand and slips an oven mitt onto the other so he has double the weapons. The kitchen roll stays on the floor so he can clean up any mess later.

The flashlight from the bathroom lights up the hallway enough for Dan to see the faint pale eyes painted on the moth’s wings.

It almost makes him forget how to breathe.

“I don’t want to do it,” he whines.

Phil huffs a quiet laugh. Dan’s too occupied with the moth to be bothered by it. “Would you rather it stay there?”

“Fuck no.”

“The you have to kill it,” says Phil. 

Dan scowls. “That’s not helpful,” he says, and starts pacing the hallway.

---

When he actually does gather the courage to do it, it happens fast.

Dan’s legs shake as he tries to climb the step stool. His oven gloved hand is useless to help him stay steady. Phil’s silent on the other end of the Skype call, but Dan knows he’s watching. 

It’s what makes him take the last step up the stool, raise his hand, and slap the fly swatter against the wall.

The plastic is too flimsy, though.

The moth panics. And flies right at Dan’s face.

“Fuck!” he shouts. His balance on the step stool teeters and, he vaguely hears Phil yell “Be careful!” from his laptop.

Dan’s too busy swatting in front of his face too listen. The fly swatter has fallen from his hand. The moth flies in circles around his head as he stumbles off the step stool, just about collapses against the opposite wall.

He watches, heart racing and lungs definitely not working, as the moth flutters over to the circle of light the flashlight is still painting across the hallway wall.

“Oh, so now you cooperate?” he hisses. Phil’s responding laugh sounds through the hall. “Fuck you.”

He walks over to it before the adrenaline can die down. His legs kinda feel like they’re about to collapse under him, and his hand is definitely not steady enough to wield a fly swatter, so he presses the oven glove against the wall and mentally vows to clean it tomorrow before his mum gets home.

When he pulls his hand away again, the moth is dead.

From his computer, Phil’s cheering loudly. Dan’s whole body heaves on a sigh. 

---

Dan locks himself in his room afterwards.

He’s collected a pile of snacks that should last him until the sun has risen and all moths have preferably disappeared. He’s used the bathroom just to make sure he wouldn’t have to leave again. He’s scooped up his laptop, still lit up with Phil’s face, and set it down in the middle of his bed.

Phil laughs at him as Dan settles down against his pillow, tugging his duvet tight around his shoulders because it feels safer that way.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asks.

Dan shrugs. It’s barely visible, between the thick fabric of his blanket and the few pixels of his webcam. “Was gonna play video games.”

Phil pouts. He’s too adorable like that. It makes Dan wish he was back in Manchester so he could kiss him.

“But I’d much rather talk to you,” says Dan. “My knight in shining armor, or whatever.”

That brings Phil’s smile back. It doesn’t make Dan want to kiss him any less.

“But I couldn’t even kill the moth for you!”

“No, but you did deal with me being a total wimp for, like, way too long to be reasonable,” he says. “That’s, like, totally noble behaviour.”

He draws the duvet tighter around him, snuggling deeper into it as though that will convince him he’s wrapped in Phil’s arms instead. Now that the rush of the moth fight has died down, his heart slowed and mind gone a little hazy around the edges, it’s where he really wants to be.

Then again, it’s pretty much always where he wants to be.

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“When we live together one day, you’re in charge of getting rid of all the moths, okay?”

Dan’s stomach twists, like it always does when he makes statements about their future, but Phil’s response is a smile that lights up his whole face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Okay.”

[kataracy]

My job just does not care that rent is like 400+ huh cool cool im about to go awf under this read more if yall dont mind

FREGIURGTTKJLKKSAKDSFKAFSLJL GOD FUCKING FUCK?WHAT IS THE DEAL FFFFFFF ok story time:

So I work at corner bakery cafe its a weird fusion fast casual place where i make $9/hr, less than what i’ve made from my  last jobs but incredibly close to where i live like deadass across the street. So I have a manager that I steadily don’t get along with, he’s a blowhard. He picks a person to be mad at for the day, he hovers, he treats the girls there like his personal punching bags and I noticed all of that and started to dislike him to the point where I just couldn’t work with him. 

I would go in on days where he would close, because i work the night shift (my job favors the day shift btw. They only care about having people work in the day shift the dont give a fuck about night crew is ridiculous how much the dont clean up after their shifts and we have to pick up behind these grown ass women) and i would noticeably make little o no effort to converse with him, I just went in, did my job and went home. 

He would write me up for not saying hi to him. He would constantly start telling the GM I was being insubordinate when i was literally doing everything good at my job except talking to his sensitive ass. So I complained to the GM. I begged him to not put me on any more shifts with this manager because i was Tired of getting written u for nothing and I was tired of not having fun at my job. I was getting anxiety attacks while working with this dude it was so bad because again, he HOVERS. HE STANDS IN THE FRONT WHEN THERE IS OTHER STUFF TO DO AND JUST FUCKING HOVERS LIKE CAN YOU GO FIND SOMETHING TO DO and my GM said ok its fine we know (BECAUSE THE DONT LIKE HIM EITHER WE LITERALLY WOULD TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH WE DID NOT LIKE THIS DUDE OK NONE OF THE MANAGERS LIKE HIM) we will try not to put you on the same shift, we’ll let Z (the scheduling manager) know and if u do have to be scheduled with him make sure you find a cover and we’ll tell him to leave you alone because we know you know how to do your job.

So. That was a fucking lie.

They keep scheduling him with me. I tell another manager I don’t like him and why and he says I get it I’ll let B (GM) know. 

So I keep getting scheduled with him. And how the hell am I supposed to know when because, the managers have an entirely different schedule thats just their shifts and its fucking private. They end up scheduling me with him again and again and I just don’t show up one day I let the night manager know hey im not coming in on these 2 days, i found someone for this day but not this one so i hope yall find someone.

And then the next day, im getting called by a coworker like hey where are you are you coming in and i say no. no im not. i gave the managers plenty of time ( a whole fucking day) to find someone else bc they know i dont like working with this man. i said im not coming in repeatedly. im not coming in. but the coworker keeps fucking picking at me and saying hey they dont have anyone can you please come and then i get so pissed off i say im on my way and when i get there the fucking manager says you can go home i found someone.

I get so pissed. Why did you keep calling me then?

I didn;t call you they called you.

and the coworker that kept calling me and making me feel guilty for not wanting to work with this man who makes me uncomfortable and pissed and anxious, is my boyfriend. My fucking boyfriend decided this job was more important than my feelings that day and it was beyond hurtful dude im tearing up just talking about it because god it hurt, it was like a dramatic ass betrayal (AND THAT JOB IS SO DRAMATIC BY THE WAY THEY WILL GET SO FUCKING UNCOORDINATED OVER A SMALL RUSH ITS THE STUPIDEST SHIT)

So I go back there and im so angry now. Why have you been blowing up my phone to tell me to come in and being so dramatic. There arent even any customers in here. Why did you keep calling me asking me to come in when they already found somebody.

They just found somebody.

So you could call me and even come back home to fucking say they asked you to come get me> But you cant find the time to pick up the phone again and send a quick nvm?

The next day im scheduled. Another write up from the manager who loves writing me up. because he couldn’t be a fucking manager and just find a replacement no, he had to call and tattle-tell on me to the GM for nothing. I get called in to office by the scheduling manager.

So GM asked me to have you read this, its a warning. I heard you have problems with B and I din’t know that.

I find out they never fucking told the scheduling manager. they lied to me to just keep me coming in.

And... listen. look. I get that everyone in that place must have a complaint. I get that the managers must hear complaints all the time but. just because they do, does not mean my complaint matters less. Im a young woman who is uncomfortable working with an older male manager, how about yall give a shit about that at least. This job didnt care about me the entire time and that hurts even fucking more.

So now, im only getting two days. Because instead of the other managers just stepping up and working the easy night shift, instead of being accommodating and considerate, they decide to just shit on my feelings like this. 

The last time I went in. the manager is fucking talking to me because thats what fucking happens. The more you work with someone like that, the more they get use to you not liking them and being uncomfortable with them and they decide they dont fucking care, that they dont have o be accountable. that they can just keep messing with you. My last shift was so anxiety riddled I had to excuse myself 5 times (I counted the tissues) to go fucking cry because of how awful it felt to just, be surrounded by so many people who have the power to do something and yet, decide they just dont feel like it. 

He keeps his shifts and i have to deal with having 2.

He works on salary, I have  9 dollars an hour.

my bf and i had to move out of our 1 bedroom that we share with his dad because we needed the space and rent is an extra $100. I broke my glasses last month and cant afford to get replacements so i have been straining my eyes faily. I have to pay a full internet bill from my account and my bf gives me half of that. the dog wont stop fucking barking and giving the cat fleas. My mother and I dont speak, we have no relationship. I dont want to ask my aunts for money any more than i already do, i have no family out here, i only have like 3 friends that are close enough to visit and even then, i dont have a car and “close” equals driving distance and... i’m just

I am so exhausted haha. its been such a long few months. The ups and downs are there but, the downs have been so much more amplified lately its hard to see a silver lining so i just, idk, I dont know. I do not know.

I got our new schedule today. Only two days. This ko-fi stuff and this commission stuff guys its what i have right now. Its what i need to work because nothing else is. lol im not a begging person, im not like... this. Im not so open but, i could really use any help right now, please. Just share the links, if u dont see something u like maybe someone else will, and that hope is the only thing i can look forward to right now. thanks for reading this far if u did. thanks for listening to me yell about avatar for all these years thanks for following me and giving me notes and making me laugh and making me smile and im burned out after all of this so, take care guys.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Bad Things: Part 2

Pairings: Alpha!Negan x Omega Porn Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, sex slavery, mentioned abuse, medical emergency, seizure

Word Count: 4,344

A/N: I was going to write a nice, peaceful story for @ne-gans challenge… two adult actors fall in love, and it’s so beautiful….. But then this happened. And it’s fucking glorious. (I’m also not sorry.)

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sitting on the upper deck, watching the yacht cruise across the Pacific Ocean, in silent shock. Your bother’s music and the sounds of all your friends partying echoed across the water as they celebrated the multimillion dollar contract Kels had just signed with Negan’s label. You wanted to join him and celebrate the good news as well, but something prevented that from happening. Fear of what Matthew could do to you once he found you. Fear of what he would do to your only family member, or your friends. Fear of what he could do to your mate.

“There you are.” Negan said softly as he came around the corner with a blanket, and a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice. “I was wondering where you had escaped to.”

“Not many places to hide.” You said as you adjusted your oversized sweater on your shoulders. “Though that’s not what I was intentionally doing, anyways.” He nodded and put the ice bucket in its holder before gesturing you forward.

“Come here, Omega.” He breathed as he sat down behind you and easily pulled you into his lap. He flicked the blanket out in front of you and pulled it up over your lap, making sure you were completely covered to block out the slight nip in the salty ocean air. As he kissed your temple and wrapped you in his arms, you let out a small sigh and shed a single tear at the gentleness of it.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You whispered as you laid your head on his shoulder and curled into his chest. “It’s so weird how my life played out. One minute we were traveling all over the world with our parents, and the next thing you know, mom took off, we moved in with our aunt. Then the fighting started, dad took off, and Kels just kinda jumped off the deep end. My aunt was threatening every day to kick us out unless he got his shit together and before I knew it, I was on the streets.”

“I won’t let that shit happen to you again, baby girl.” Negan promised as he tilted his head to see your face.

“Negan, I’m scared.” You whispered as tears started to slide down your cheeks. “What if he…”

“He will never come near you again, Omega. I swear on my fucking life. My job, as your Alpha, is to protect you and I’ll be fucking damned if I fail at my fucking job. You will be safe. Period. No matter what.”

“But what about my brother?” You asked as hysteria started to slip in. “Or my friends. What if he goes after them?”

“He won’t be able to, ���mega.” He soothed as he cupped your jaw in his large hand. “Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath.” You nodded your head and did what he asked. “Good girl.” He said with a nod as he mimicked taking another deep breath again. 

“Now, first of all, do you really think that fucking asshat is going anywhere near your fucking brother? That kid fucking stood up to me with full intention of knocking my ass out just for touching you. Do you think, now that he knows you’re fucking safe with me, that he’s gunna let your fucking manager come near him?” You shook your head as he fixed the blanket around your shoulders when a gust of wind blew across the deck. “And after what I heard he did to you, do you honestly think I would let him stay in fucking business so he can keep hurting other women the same fucking way?” You shook your head again, and curled into him a bit more to stay warm, and to feel the protection you needed. 

“No, I’m not gunna let that shit fucking happen. I don’t give a fucking fuck. As of today, my fucking label just branched out into fucking porn. Fuck it. Because I will fucking buy out every mother fucking contract I need to to protect men and women, no matter their fucking status, that are going through the shit you went through, baby girl. I don’t fucking tolerate people who exploit other people for their own benefit. That mother fucker has another fucking thing coming to him. I promise you that.” He searched your eyes and smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair and pulled it all back over your shoulders. “You’re OK now, baby girl. And fuck if I ain’t the luckiest fucking man in the entire world that you’re my Omega.” You choked on your laugh and quickly hid your face in his chest just as Kels came to find you.

“Hey!” He barked, causing you to sit up, and look over at him. “You havin’ a fucking drink with me or what? You’re being a shitty sister right now.” You smirked as you reached back to grab the bottle of champagne, and purposely popped the top right at him, hitting him directly in the chest.

“Congrats, Kels.” You said as you held the bottle away from you over the table so it didn’t get you or your Alpha. Your brother smiled, and nodded as he came over, flopped down on the long, ‘U’ shaped couch beside you, and passed you a joint. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” He said as he waited for you to pass back the joint before handing you one of the four glasses he had in his hands since he didn’t know how many people you were with. “Figured you’d be happy for me.”

“I am.” You said with a nod as you handed your Alpha his glass before leaning back into his chest for the warmth and taking the joint back. “But you lied to your baby sister, and that’s not very nice, Kels.”

“Boo hoo.” He teased as he stretched out across the couch, and looked up at the starry night sky. “Damn. This is some fucking first class living right here.”

“Takes a lot of fucking work.” Negan said as he rubbed your back softly, shaking his head when you offered him the smoke. “Lots of fucking hard work. But you’re on the right fucking track.” You nodded in agreement as Kels took a gulp of his drink.

“Had a lot to fight for.” He said as he looked over at you and took back the joint. “You and Casie.”

“How is my niece, anyways?”

“She’s good.” He smiled and looked over at you. “Excited to spend a few days on the bus with Auntie (Y/N).” You sighed and rolled your eyes with a smile as you took the joint one last time.

“Didn’t realize she was in town, too. You’re really fucking killin it, here, Coulson.”

“Bite me.” He said as he poured all three of you more champagne while you took a final drag. “Her moms is in town for work day after tomorrow. We’re picking up Casie from the airport on the way back to Cleveland.”

“Good. I got a bunch of new makeup she will have fun destroying.”

“Come on, now.” Kels said as he topped off his glass, traded you what was left of the joint for a cigarette, and got up to rejoin the party. “She’s fucking ten. My baby girl is a straight G when it comes to making up her face now. Bloom.”

“You a big smoker?” Negan asked as he pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket to light your cigarette for you. You shook your head, and inhaled deeply.

“Not supposed to because of my contract.” You said as he knocked on the window of the wheelhouse and told whoever stepped out the door to bring you an ashtray. “I smoke when I’m with Coulson but not on a regular basis.” Negan nodded as he took the ashtray from his employee and set it on the table where you could reach it easily.

“I don’t want you living by that fucking contract any more.” He said as he pulled your hand toward him to take a drag of his own. “You wanna smoke, do it. You do whatever the fuck you wanna do, baby girl. And you’re coming off those fucking suppressants when you get back from Cleveland. I won’t have my Omega killing herself to hide who she is, you hear me?” You nodded your head as you ashed that cigarette before leaning into his chest again.

“Yes, Alpha.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Casie. We got this.” You said as you pulled your ten year old niece on to your lap, despite the aching pains you had been feeling all day, so that both of you could see the TV to play Mario Kart against Kels, and his drummer, Rook.

“Oh, you two are fucking going down!” Your brother said as he grabbed his controller, and flopped down on the corner of the ‘u’ shaped couch that took up the whole back part of his tour bus.

“Nu uh!” Casie yelled as she looked up at you to make sure you could see around her giant, curly haired bun, and leaned back against your chest. “You’re gunna lose, dad!”

“Yea, dad!” You taunted as Rook came running back from the bathroom with his remote under his chin as fast as the moving bus would allow him. Kels threw a mini Oreo at your head and you whacked him in the arm as hard as you could as Casie picked her character, Peach, first, per the unofficial bus rules. Once she was locked in, you chose Mario before Rook could, Kels grabbed Bowser, and Rook finally settled on Yoshi.

“Alright, no fucking cheating.” You said with a glare over at your brother as your niece choose the track, another unofficial bus rule.

“You’re to talk!” Rook said as he sat in the only available spot between the two Baker kids, which was the worst seat on the bus when the pair of you were playing against each other. “You abusive little bitch.”

“You’re just mad you always get beat by the girls.” You said as the game started counting down. You held the controller in your left hand and not so subtly grabbed a pillow.

“Don’t do it!” Rook shouted as the game started and you and your brother both whacked each other and poor Rook with a pillow. He growled, and tried to duck as you shoved your brother into the wall of the bus as he tried to catch up to his daughter on the screen.

“Go, Casie, go!” You cheered as you grabbed your remote, and took off across the track.

“Such a fucking cheater!” Kels said as you cut him off, and stole the box he had been aiming for. You smirked and stuck your tongue out at him as you zipped ahead with your star powers and caught up to your niece. You would never, ever dare to pass her because you always worked as a team so you stayed right behind her to keep Kels from taking her first place spot. 

“Both of you suck.” Rook complained.

“Y’all are so damn competitive, it’s disgusting.” Ace laughed as he played cards with Slim.

“It’s a family thing.” Kels said as he hit the buttons on his controller as fast as he could to hit your character with a turtle shell. He hissed a ‘yes’ when Mario went flying into the air, and poor Rook jumped to his feet to avoid getting hit when you punched your laughing brother in the arm.

“Got you, dad!” Casie scolded as she ran him off the rainbow bridge, causing you to laugh, obnoxiously, at his expense.

“Oh, I’m coming for you now, Casie.” He said as he got up on his knees as the game announced the final lap.

“Go, baby go!” You cheered as you tried to block Kels’ car with yours. You had him pinned up against the track’s walls until almost the very end when both your hands seized. The remote fell to Casie’s lap as she crossed the finish line in first place, and your brother’s head whipped over to you, instantly.

“Fuck, not again.” He said as he tossed his remote on the couch. “Cas, get up!”

“Coul… C-c-c…” You tried as your muscles started to lock up, and spasm simultaneously.

“I know.” Kels said as he shoved everything off the couch onto the floor. “Casie, go get (Y/N)’s blue bag.” His daughter nodded as she turned, and ran off while Slim and Kels tried to straighten your limbs out and lay you down before the seizure started. “So fucking over this shit.”

“N… N…” You tried you tried to focus your vision on anything in the room.

“Casie, you gotta fucking hurry baby!” Kels yelled as he grabbed your bottom jaw to keep it open so you could breathe.

“Here.” She said as she held out the bag and climbed onto the couch to hold your head in her lap so it wouldn't hit the back of the couch. Your brother ripped the zipper open with his teeth as Slim and Ace held you on your side as the seizure, caused by not having a heat in the past ten years and the chemical imbalance due to your meds, started to roll through your body. 

“Thanks, baby.” Kels said as he grabbed a syringe and passed it and a bottle of liquid Ativan to Rook. “Two mig’s.” The drummer nodded as your brother kneeled down on the ground in front of you, grabbed a thick, rubber mouth guard from the bag, and wedged it between your teeth so you wouldn’t break your teeth or bite through your tongue when your jaw clenched. His chest heaved painfully as he gasped for air, hating that he had to watch you go through this yet again.

“Here.” Rook said as he held out the full syringe.

“Alright, here we go.” Kels said over the inhuman noise you were making as he ripped down the sleeve of your sweater and gave you the shot that would only temporarily help. “Here we go, it’s almost done, babe. Shhh…” He nodded his head and moved so he was directly in front of your face as he loosely held the back of your head with one hand and used the other to keep your mouth open to breathe. He kept talking to you while Casie kept brushing her hand through your hair as your seizure subsided.

“Do we need to find a hospital?” Ace asked as Kels pulled the mouth guard from your mouth when you stopped spasming .

“Na, she’ll make it to Cleveland.” He said as he put his hand on the side of your face and head so you knew he was there. “Someone find me her phone though.”

“Dad, the blanket.” Casie said as she pointed it out to him. He nodded as he grabbed the fabric and passed it to her so she could help him.

“C… Coul…” You tried as you began to shiver violently.

“I’m right here.” He said as he rubbed the side of your face. “You’re alright, sweetheart. I got you.” He looked over when someone tapped his arm and grabbed your phone from Slim’s hand. “We’re gunna get you to Cleveland, (Y/N). Take you to the hospital there.” You nodded subtly as he unlocked your cell and found Negan’s number, knowing you’d want your Alpha to be there when you got to the hospital. He propped the phone up to his ear with his shoulder, and grabbed your blue bag off the floor to find the sugar cubes you kept in there.

“Negan? It’s Kels. Look, figured you would want to know, (Y/N)’s having another seizure fit from her meds. We’re gunna take her to Cleveland Clinic. Should be there in a couple hours.” He looked down at you with a sigh, put a small, broken piece of the cube on your lips, and nodded his head as you looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes. Without a word, he pulled his hand away from your head to grab your phone. “She won’t be able to answer, but she can hear you.” He said before putting the call on speaker, and laying the phone in front of your face. “Go ahead.”

“Hey, baby girl.” Negan said, as calmly as he could over the sound of him scrambling to get the paperwork he would need into his briefcase. “I’m gunna meet you at the hospital, OK? You’re gunna be alright, just keep breathing for me.” You tried to nod your head, unsuccessfully, as your whole body tensed, and relaxed a few times. “You should feel special, Omega. I don’t ever do the fucking snow if I can avoid it. Shit’s fucking cold. I’m much fucking happier in warm, sunny California. But, just for you, I’ll endure the damn snow. I’m coming, (Y/N). I’m on my fucking way.” You nodded your head half an inch, as your eyes drifted closed in exhaustion. You let out a throaty ‘un’ as a response before falling into a fitful sleep.

“She’s asleep.” Kels said as he sat down in front of the couch with his arm in front of your body as he picked the phone back up and took it off speaker. “This is the shit I was fucking talking about.”

“I’m taking care of it.” Negan growled as he got in the elevator to head down to his car. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Keep her phone on you.” Your brother nodded as the two Alpha’s hung up simultaneously. 

“Is that guy gunna stop Aunt (Y/N)’s fits?” Casie asked as she carefully moved out from under your head, and put a pillow down in her place.

“I sure fucking hope so, baby girl.” Kels said as he ran his hand over his hair. “I sure fucking hope so.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leather, whiskey, and aftershave. It made you feel calm despite the amount of pain you were in. You whined, wishing that there was something you could do to get away from the pain but there wasn’t much you could do about it.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Negan said softly before your eyes even opened as he got up from the chair he had been sitting in for two days, watching you go through multiple fits that he could do nothing about. He smiled when you finally opened your eyes, sat down on the bed beside you, and pulled the blanket he had brought you from his bed up to your chin for you. “You’re alright, Omega.” Tears welled in your eyes, and you shook your head, disrupting the nasal cannula that was giving you extra oxygen.

“No.” You croaked as he picked up your hand, and put it on his thigh so you knew he was there. He shushed you softly as he cupped your jaw in his hand to fix your oxygen, and you instinctively turned your nose into his wrist, preventing him from doing so.

“You’re alright now, baby.” He said as he brushed your hair back with his other hand while you burst into tears. “I’m here. But you gotta fucking breathe for me.” You nodded against his palm as he finally put your oxygen back on.

“Negan.” You cried as you wrapped your sore fingers around the fabric of his dress pants.

“You gotta breathe.” He repeated in his Alpha tone. “Breathe Omega, or I will go sit back down in my chair until you do.” You nodded and finally took a deep, shaky breath. He nodded his head and smiled as you repeated the action and looked up at him through your tears. “Good. I’m gunna go get the doc while you keep taking deep breaths. I'm coming right back.” You nodded again as he carefully loosened your grip on his slacks and put your hand back down on the bed. “You stay calm, now.” With one more nod, he stepped out of your hospital room to find your doctor. You closed your eyes and tried to piece together the past couple days. That was another down side to your fits; losing days of your life to blackouts.

“Ms. Baker?” A beta woman said as she came into the room. You opened your eyes and nodded as a tall woman in a white coat walked in to your room behind your mate. “It’s good to see you awake. My name is Doctor Wilson. I just wanted to come touch base with what happened, and how we’re going to treat you from here.”

“I have fits.” You said as you looked away from her.

“Omega, it is not just fucking fits.” Negan scolded as he stood on the other side of the bed. “Listen to her. She’s helping.” You nodded and looked back up at the doctor.

“(Y/N), in the course of the past three days, you have had six seizures, as a side effect of these suppressants you have been on.” You nodded at her as she picked up the half empty blister pack Kels had given her when he brought you in, and showed it to you. “Personally, I haven’t seen this brand on the shelves of a pharmacy for Omega’s in at least a decade because the severe side effects…”

“My old manager got them in bulk from Mexico.” You whispered as you looked down at your hands in shame. “He made us take them.” Negan growled beside you as the doctor looked at you in horror. 

“I’m sorry. He made you?” The doctor asked.

“It’s a long, long fucking story that I have a group of LA’s best lawyers looking into.” Negan said as he reached down to hold your hand so you would stop picking at your thumbnail.

“God, I sure hope you win that case.” Dr. Wilson said as she put the pills back under the clasp of her clipboard to dispose of. “At any rate, we now have to get you off these medications, and either put you on a better suppressant that doesn’t have the extreme side effects, or take you off suppressants completely. That, however, is your choice…”

“Off.” You said with zero hesitation. “I want to be off of them.” Dr. Wilson glanced up at Negan for his agreement, and nodded with him as she pulled a pen from her coat pocket, and made a note in your chart.

“Alright. Well fortunately, at three days out, we’ve passed the half life of the drug. So getting the rest of it out of your system is just a matter of time. However, there are so many side effects to being on this particular medication long term that we just don’t know about. Blood clots, heart attack, stroke, inability to conceive, ovarian cysts…”

“Enough.” Negan said, shortly when you squeezed his hand, and whined nervously. The doctor looked up at him as he stepped forward and sat down on the bed beside you, protectively. “Enough. She didn’t have a fucking choice in taking those fucking pills, and any fucking side effects she has because of them, will be addressed by the best damn doctors in the fucking world. No use trying to further traumatize an already terrified Omega.”

“My apologies.” Dr. Wilson said with a nod as Negan covered you with his blanket again so you would feel safe surrounded by his scent. “Well, Ms. Baker, we’d like to keep you here for a few more days to monitor your wellbeing. The concern we have, of course, is your first heat.”

“Is she stable enough to be transferred?” Negan asked as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “No offense meant to your fine establishment, but I’d prefer to have my Omega closer to home.”

“She can be transferred.” The doctor said with a nod as she closed your chart. “But it is something we need to confirm with her brother, first. Unfortunately, that’s hospital policy with unclaimed Omegas.” Negan nodded his head and looked over at you with a smile.

“I’ll let you choose, Omega. You can stay here near Kels, or we can go back home.”

“I wanna go home.” You said as you laid your head back against the pillow. “Please, Alpha.” He nodded his head and gave you a reassuring smile before looking back up at the doctor.

“I’ll go put in the transfer orders, and confirm with Mr. Baker.” She said with a nod. “I’ll just need the name of the hospital…”

“It’ll be a home address.” Negan said as he pulled his hand free of yours for a moment to get a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. “I already have a call in to an Omega specialist from Europe that’s just waitin’ on my call and my primary doctor is also waiting to monitor her wellbeing through her recovery.” Dr. Wilson nodded once more, and took the paper with Negan’s home address to add it to your chart. 

“Alright. Let me make a few phone calls, and get your paperwork in order, and we’ll get you squared away. I’ll be back.” You said a soft ‘thank you’ to her back as Negan came back over and sat down beside you.

“Don’t you listen to a fucking word she had to say.” He said as he cupped your jaw again. “You’re gunna be just fucking fine, baby girl.”

“But what if she’s right?” You whispered as tears filled your eyes. “What if I can’t give you pups…”

“Then we don’t have pups.” He said simply as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Or we fucking adopt. Omega, I don’t need pups to be happy if I have you in my life.” You nodded your head but closed your eyes as you leaned into his touch. He sighed as he leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. “You’re gunna be just fine, baby girl. Let’s just get you home.”

Part 3

[janiedean]

Hey, personal Q but may I ask why you’ve had a somewhat hard time being an atheist in Italy? Is it bc your family is really religious? Is it bc you’ve encountered a lot of older Italians like Italian professors or your Italian work colleagues? Bc I know tons of Italian atheists (all over Italy, in Sicily, Veneto, Naples, Florence etc,) and none of them had a problem w it not even with their families, they’re all fairly young 16-22 but yeah they’ve not even faced remarks from their old relatives.

hahahahahahahaha

*clears throat*

my immediately close family is thankfully not religious, or better: my parents are both atheists and haven’t baptized me or anything and on my dad’s side my aunt is somewhat practicing and no one else does or cares. on my mom’s side though everyone in the older generation is and like I didn’t have issues because of that per se, but in order (count that I live in *rome* which means there’s the vatican beyond the corner):

my grandmother has I think gotten it but once in a while the immortal ‘I hope you convert because I don’t want you to go to hell’ shows up again and good luck explaining her that the last three popes at least said that it’s not a guarantee, and I’ve had endless discussion with one great-aunt on the topic but that’s minimal;

the problem is everything else ie: when I was like, seven or eight and I didn’t take religion classes people tended to look at you weird because hOW ARE YOU NOT BAPTIZED AND HOW DO YOU NOT GO TO CATECHISM WAIT YOU AREN’T GETTING SACRAMENTS????, which ended up in two fairly crappy years when I was... 8-10 yo I think where I felt like shit for not fitting in and I actually actively tried to buy it and I wanted to be baptized THANK FUCK MY PARENTS DIDN’T LET ME DO IT or I’d have sorely regretted it and I felt like a complete idiot because I didn’t really feel it but I thought I was supposed to, and meanwhile I was taking the infamous religion classes in elementary school and man it was not a good idea let me tell you;

anyway at that point I pretty much made up my mind and realized it was Not My Thing and that I wasn’t a spiritual person in the slightest and so I went into middle school not taking the religion classes (it’s one hour per week at every level of obligatory school but you can opt out of it) and I spent three lovely years with my italian teacher (the main one) talking about how I should try to take them/*try religion out*/’but why are you assuming you KNOW EVERYTHING WITHOUT HAVING TRIED’ in front of the entire class which was part of a series of things that lovely woman ended up doing which eventually caused me a shitload of issues in the long run, I always stood my ground, she didn’t quit until I sent my father to tell her to do it. I took alternative classes every time but I was the only person in the school and most teachers I ended up with were pissed off because they had to do something with me rather than having their free hour, every time I got asked if I was jewish/buddhist/muslim/WHATEVER otherwise why wouldn’t I take the religion class? I replied that I was atheist, I always got ‘oh but then why don’t you try it out?’

yeah, I did, didn’t work, thanks.

anyway, that was the reaction I got half of the time I told people older than thirty. and it was good because other than that I’ve had people straight up ask me the following ie: ‘but how do you live without the knowledge god’s over there’, ‘how do you get out of bed in the morning’, ‘so you think stealing and killing people is okay???’, ‘but why don’t you believe in god’, a question that whenever answered truthfully caused in 99% of the cases people getting offended and calling me an asshole when they asked it first, and on top of that if I ask that question to someone it’s passed as rude, if the contrary it’s ‘just curiosity’;

when it came to people my age it was better, but once I had to hear from a fairly close friend when I was like sixteen ‘I was thinking about it and I’m pretty sure you’re obsessed with singers because you’re atheist and YOU HAVE TO FILL THE HOLE INSIDE YOU THAT IS THERE BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE GOD TO FILL IT FOR YOU’ and like yeah okay sure bro no;

on top of that, I had another friend (PAST) who... let’s just say that he’s an eight on the kinsey scale but at some point got really hardcore catholic and went back in the closet/started being completely incoherent about it who spent like five years of his life trying to drag me to church, then he managed lying about what we were gonna do, admitted that he’d have never done it if I had been jewish or protestant or any religion but apparently if I was atheist it was all cool, and that one time he dragged me there I ended up stuck in the most awkward situation of my life which included some little old lady who gifted me a rosary that I didn’t want adding that ‘oh, it’s such a pity that a nice girl like you is headed to hell, I hope the virgin mary enlightens you’ when she didn’t even know my name but she knew I was U’s atheist friend so obviously I was fucked already and that about pissed me off to the point that I stopped calling him and I think he still hasn’t realized why I did.

and other similar stuff. I mean, obviously I didn’t get discriminated openly or anything but the above stuff is more or less the norm, these days less also because I think a lot of people don’t practice (less than they used to back in the day) but late 90s/early 00s it was like that almost everywhere and I’m actually lucky that my parents can’t give a fuck about the topic because I know people with extra religious parents who didn’t even consider telling them they actually were atheists period because they’d have taken it fairly badly X°DD but like if your friends had no issues then it’s a very good thing, but it’s... not a universal experience X°D and most atheist people my age that I know had at least some experiences in common X°D that said I think back then it was a lot more common to send your kids to the nuns in kindergarten/elementary school and I’ve met I think one person who attended a school run by nuns who didn’t have some horror story to tell so there’s that too, but like, this ain’t scandinavia. not yet. xD and on top of that I’ve had a bunch of people assuming that ‘well but if you’re not religious why does it even bother you BE MORE TOLERANT’ when I said I didn’t want to go inside churches period in the six months after The Mass With The Above Friend (it wasn’t usual mass, it was some subgroup of people who did things... DIFFERENTLY let’s say) Where I Was Dragged When I Didn’t Want To, but of course no one said that he had been an ass because he completely disregarded my wishes/my belief system (or lack of belief system). naaah, why would I be upset?

tldr: most of my experiences were like the above stuff. later it’s became less bad admittedly but I also am not really interacting with people like my middle school teacher and every place I worked at for now was THANKFULLY secular so X°D but I mean. I wish no one ever gave me shit for it xD

[urscottsdale]

1-100 😌

1:when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? i rarely eat cereal but i think i usually balance them pretty equally or try to lol

2:do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? i love it as long as im all bundled up

3:what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? usually the closest piece of paper i can find

4:how do you take your coffee/tea? with lots of sugar 😏

5:are you self-conscious of your smile? very

6:do you keep plants? nope

7:do you name your plants? nada

8:what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? writing and music

9:do you like singing/humming to yourself? sometimes

10:do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? all of the above

11:what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? no friends, no jokes other than maybe im the quiet one

12:what’s your favorite planet? pluto

13:what’s something that made you smile today? my dog

14:if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? my room: messy, theirs: clean

15:go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! uranus is tilted on its side 😉

16:what’s your favorite pasta dish? spaghetti

17:what color do you really want to dye your hair? blue

18:tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. idk tbh

19:do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i dont

20:what’s your favorite eye color? brown eyes 😍

21:talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. who comes up with these questions? bc i dont have a favorite bag

22:are you a morning person? no i hate mornings

23:what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? listen to music

24:is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? theres a couple, one doesnt know it tho

25:what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? never broken into anywhere lol

26:what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? vanz

27:what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? mint

28:sunrise or sunset? sunset

29:what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? randomly checking up on me and actually meaning it when they say they care

30:think of it: have you ever been truly scared? a handful of times yes

31:what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. love socks and wearing them, dont sleep in them and i have an assortment of colors bc white is boring

32:tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. there was this time i went out drinking with my friend after graduation, these two guys were hitting on her after she called them gay (even bought us drinks), my friend is gay so that was interesting lol

33:what’s your fave pastry? doughnuts

34:tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? winnie the pooh and hell yes i still have it

35:do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? love them but never use them

36:which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? backstreet boys

37:do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like keeping it clean but it tends to stay messy lol

38:tell us about your pet peeves! i have too many pet peeves tbh

39:what color do you wear the most? blue and maroon (not together tho)

40:think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? cross necklace is self-explanatory, dog tag necklace i got from my parents so it holds a special meaning to me

41:what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? to kill a mockingbird

42:do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! starbucks…

43:who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? lol one of my friends back in like 5th grade

44:when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? summer and winter breaks in high school

45:do you trust your instincts a lot? yup

46:tell us the worst pun you can think of. sex while camping is fucking in tents ;)

47:what food do you think should be banned from the universe? most kinds of fish

48:what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? being alone, and yes actually

49:do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? yes but i cant remember tbh. most i have were gifted to me.

50:what’s an odd thing you collect? keys

51:think of a person. what song do you associate with them? @thisvanessa - count on me by bruno mars

52:what are your favorite memes of the year so far? im pretty sure ive never seen a meme i didnt love so. the spongebob one is pretty good tho.

53:have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i wish i could tell u

54:who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? my dog lol

55:what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? idk im pretty passive aggressive so i do a lot lol

56:what are some things you find endearing in people? same as earlier, randomly checking up on me and also saying they miss me

57:go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? nope

58:who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? my ex friend is the wine mom and idk maybe im the vodka aunt lol

59:what’s your favorite myth? the earth is flat

60:do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? yess langston hughes and edgar allan poe

61:what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? cant think of any tbh, maybe the dancing chicken that used to be passed around for years in my family

62:do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? orange juice and cran-grape juice

63:are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i just leave them be

64:what color is the sky where you are right now? gray

65:is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? yes

66:what would your ideal flower crown look like? idk not big on flower crowns

67:how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? i love them so much

68:what’s winter like where you live? hot with a random cold day here and there

69:what are your favorite board games? wahoo/marbles, sorry, candyland, pretty much all of them lol

70:have you ever used a ouija board? nope

71:what’s your favorite kind of tea? sweet tea

72:are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yes but im also too lazy to note things so i end up forgetting a lot

73:what are some of your worst habits? procrastination

74:describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. beautiful, bubbly, cute, always smiling even tho i know they r sad deep down

75:tell us about your pets! small, black fur ball full of energy

76:is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? so many things

77:pink or yellow lemonade? pink

78:are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? neither im a minion dc club

79:what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? idk told me i give them butterflies or get nervous when talking to me

80:what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? i think they r an off white an bc my apartment landlord wont let me change them lol

81:describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. dark pools of chocolate

82:are/were you good in school? i was alright could of been better if i wasnt so lazy

83:what’s some of your favorite album art? never thought about that maybe something justin bieber has done

84:are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i want to but im not sure tbh

85:do you read comics? what are your faves? nope

86:do you like concept albums? which ones? yes theres a lot

87:what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? high school musical

88:are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? yes

89:are you close to your parents? yes

90:talk about your one of you favorite cities. im pretty sure i could never get tired of nyc

91:where do you plan on traveling this year? i successfully did not travel anywhere this year, thank you bank account ur the best

92:are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? drown it in cheese

93:what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? short hair, short on the sides and longer on top

94:who was the last person you know to have a birthday? me

95:what are your plans for this weekend? lazy days

96:do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? procrastination is my middle name

97:myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INFP, scorpio and hufflepuff

98:when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? i dont think ive ever been hiking but i want to

99:list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. over and over again by tim mcgraw, make you miss me by sam hunt, remember when by alan jackson, unhinged by nick jonas, chainsaw by nick jonas, untitled by simple plan and welcome to my life by simple plan

100:if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? damn thats a really hard one. probably the future tbh.

[lullaandby]

sincerely yours. c text

JIZZ for Jesus 1 minute 15 seconds/ short. 

My being single was a topic that has worried my 85 year old father.  

 a  treasure chest of  anxiety who had anointed himself my dating guru.

Every week he comes up with a new line of advice.

The first was that I should go to church and find a nice guy. 

Ah ok, but Church is centered around redemption themed activities.

What am I going to do- tell someone 

"hey. I ah just saw the way you placed your lips to that chalice- and it got something going down here

He thought about it some more and came back with-

["Hey Jo!  You know what?"

That's the way my dad always speaks, in a tenor most people reserve for an extreme emergency, like a school evacuation. 

"These guys are no good.

 Nah. Not like how they used to be. 

So you fuck 'em Jo. Take what you need and get outta there. Don't be a whore but just get what you need."

Okay dad. Very different types of advice but thank you.

So I figured out a way to combine the two bits of information. It's a little program I like to call Jizz For Jesus.

Just vats of cum in my face in the name of our lord and savior. 

Just trying to be a good daughter. ]

Then he goes " HEY Jo"

That tone means he doesn't want my mom to hear.

What Dad. 

"Are you a lesbian?"

No Dad.

"ok well I want you to know it's ok."

thanks.

"well.... do you know what they do?"

who?

"The LESBIANS!!! how do they do it"

 Dad. We're done here. 

ST HORROR

Catholic interior design is amazingly bold. 

Where else would you be able to get away

With that focal point?

Imagine walking into the grocery store to get some ice cream

And you saw a statue of someone over the cereal aisle

life size

Just bleeding.

Then another one by the ice cream

Smiling while a gentle breeze rolls

Through his luscious locks

And sun illuminates down upon him.

And everyone else was like oh yeah.

That’s our good  buddy Ralph.

He helped to make this place.

No worries just keep hoping for a good life and

Get all your groceries into a cart.

Or just rolling up to your first soccer game

And over the goal net 

there’s a photo of your neighbor, 

Mr. Gershon who served in Vietnam

And passed away last year. 

Just bleeding profusely.

And everyone’s just like oh yeah.

He sacrificed for us.

No worries here’s an orange slice ad some high c fruit punch.

It’s just how you avoid hell.

Did you bring in money for team photo?

And how’s your fundraising going for the new jerseys. 

FIREY PITS

The whole concept of hell gets so left behind.

It becomes this thought in the back of your mind,

To Avoid the  fiery pit.

Really the church needs a revamp.

Instead of a fiery pit just start telling people

They will get zero likes on their posts 

If they don’t comply.

Watch pews fill up.

GOOD TO KNOW the Bible

Dad the only person who invited in Jehovahs they multiplied.

The he…

Years later they still came to visit him so we had to do what I like to call reverse bible chats.

It always starts with a lead in question

“Do you know…” and they insert a bible verse.

It’s a trap like when your friend asks you if you know someone else-

Either they talked shit about you or you are going to hear shit talked about them.

But when it’s bible rhetoric it’s so easy to just listen

And hit them with

Dueternonmy

Or 

Corninthians and just put in random numbers. 

Then conclude with your own opinion.

And they walk away. 

OFFERING OTHER SALVATION

Just so odd

What other types of salvation?

Some like weird cheese 

Do it out 

BIBLICAL HERO

Take a quiz to see what type of biblical hero you are

Moses

Mary Magdalene cuz she’s a hoe

How did they have hoes in the Bible?

I’d like to see a Moses parting the seas of peers who are holding back orgasms

And older ladies shaming for wearing too short skirts and saying well you asked for it,nder their breath

And he just bellows out 

“Let my whores go”

Then they walk to a land where

 they create amazing porn for ladies and general

healthcare that covers all forms of birthcontrol

*

PORHN HUB THE WORLD

More than the bible, The answer is porn

if there were as many categories on porn hub

As there were ideas  for world peace and conservation

We’d be all set. 

LADIES NIGHT

We need more categories for porn by ladies.

Just liven it up make it more representative.

Less filthy next door neighbor taking big dicks

Reading a book and getting your nips tweaked

Getting your ass eaten while watching cute animals lick their faces

Finishing a craft while on top - look how cute his eyes are, and then you just go to outer space

Eating lasagna while anything 

LADIES ARE MORE DANGEROUS

More outlets for female intelignece and for ladies to cum.

That combo creates a burtito cloud of peace with melted cheese around the female psyche.

This is essential. 

Ask any dude who is pissed off a crazy eyes girl. 

Who was just one two many break ups deep. 

There are absoultely crazy guys

But they more start a ned narrative that didn’t happen

Or if something was wrong they just avoid and deny. 

Pretty Much All Ladies will say-

Ok let me find your birth record,

Then trail onto you best friend from preschool

Take a flight to New Orleans- get a witch

Dig up a dead body and procure the two pinky fingers as payment

Rally up anyone else who hates you

Put their soul in a doll, send it to your house

Then around 10pm give you 3 hearts on insta to hide the evidence.

That’s day one. 

*

STORY- ME

*

( How sexual repression makes you into a vengeful person)

FOR REAL REVENGE. 

Girls who are all about the revenge you generally can find zero social media presence on them

And they like to do control based things

The girl in your office 

Keep talking about going to sweet greens 

Or paint night

They are the mid level managers of the world who Marshall over every event and

When you go out to dinner make sure that everyone is paying the exact amount

THE REAL REGINA GEORGRE

I have no idea why people are obsessed with teenager Regina Georges

Because the real assholes are 

repressed, undersexed mothers with body image issues

Who feel as if their children have stolen their lives 

BECUASE FAIR IS FAIR.

They begin to not even see it as revenge.

It’s just fairness. 

Because they have been taught to be nice and they are seething. 

COME A LONG WAY

We’ve come a long way sexuality from

Your aunt who has the solid Ronald mc Donald hair cut and a long short chino

With a polo shirt

To

[50k categories and several articles]

MONGOOSE.

VALIDATION STATION. 

Repression  in females comes from mis placed  validation 

The validation that seems promised from being nice and doing the right thing.

AND JEALOUSLY

AND WORRIED UR FMAILY WILL REJECT U FOR SPOILING THE GOODS 

Jessica simpson? 

Take most of the single males you know perhaps they are sad,

But they will general find a hobby, pussy, or both.

When the barrier to entry of pussy gets to expensive, psychotic, difficult or all three.

They will resort mc guyver like tendencies to find ingenuity.

Take most females who are single.

They will use the same ingenuity to gain validation from friends and family

Which includes carrier achievement and marriage.

When the Barriers to entry become challenging they become crazy.

THAT FRIEND.

If you have been single over twenty eight you have have 100 percent taken a turn

Into crazy town. Driven straight through then taken a right into county love town.

It looks so much more intense when it’s your friend doing it 

There rare two options for yourself and that friend,

A) you’ll make it by having a life and randomly crying to ColdPlay

B) you will spend all your time trying to find someone like a person who has lost

A puppy.

MISPLACED.

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS

This is so insane. 

DOWRY

This starts with our parents,

you chose in your family but I like to blame my mother.

But my dad is to blame to b/c his standards are just wanting me minimally taken care of he’d be like

do you have a car?

A job?

Ok here’s 10k

Remember she likes cheese.

Bye baby remember to turn the lights off. 

MOTHER SHAME. 

JENNER WORLD

Pretty soon moms will be fighting over how many likes their daughter gets.

(Play on how moms compete for girls getting career + marriage)

end on marriage 

The moms who are exactly the same as Kris Jenner

And there’s a lot

Except 

Kris is a narcissist who pairs her daughter up with dudes that aren’t great.

Or at the every least doesn’t encourage them to leave.

Lots of moms are like this- they loose their daughter and their daughters

“Wins” a happy marriage.

The only difference is these girls wear bikinis instead of a nice tailored slack. 

But who is the influencer of the influencers?

Do the equation and you will always come up Oprah. 

Just do it out. Oprah. 

And she doesn’t even have instagram.

And who is her influencer? Maya angelou?

So strong black women. Mostly BBW.

PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Maybe there’s  an age where repression just starts settling in

And people look at the people in their family 

Who came before them

As precious moments statues. 

Ummm just a quick refresh your moms

Vagina was once a  beatiuous place holder for jizz.

And grandma probably took a load 

And not just to the laundry

Why do you think she carries all those werthers?

Just our old friend science. 

****

JESUS INVENTED BROS

FEMALE VERSION OF BROS

PRODIGY KIDS 

[lolbtsaus]

Werewolf!Namjoon (Boyfriend)

And now it is time for the first half of Vmon, my lowkey spirit animal, an amazing leader who !!! is !!! looking !!! so !!! good !!! like he always looks great but we’ve got brown haired!joon back what a gem I’m so happy, I will support all the hair colors he has bc he deserves lots of support, Kim Namjoon aka Rap Monster aka joon

I’ve written three things for werewolf!joon so far, there’s the description of him as a werewolf in general, which is part one (here) part two is him falling in love with a human (here) and of course, werewolf!joon as a father (all of the father related posts are here)

Since one of the requests was for human!reader, I’ll be using that to start off with

Goofy sweetheart with a heart of gold what a good boyfriend

Just think about this for a moment

You’d have unlimited access to joon’s closet and he’s super okay with you wearing his clothes bc he thinks they look 100/10 on you

They always smell like his cologne or the laundry detergent he uses and his hoodies are the best to wear bc he wears them the most frequent around the house so they smell the most like him and they’re always really warm and soft and he always gives your head a lil kiss when you wear them bc he thinks you look really cute

The weather starts getting colder right and it’s snowing one day and you’re turning the heater on and getting in all the comfy sweaters 

That’s when you first see him in his wolfy state

It’s pretty hard to get him cold bc werewolf, he’s like a personal heater which comes in handy on days like this, but even he gets cold that day bc it’s just freezing outside, neither of you even wanna think about leaving the house anymore

So joon has to go into his wolf form bc it’s just that cold and as a wolf, he’s more built for the cold bc fur helps out a lot

He gets all under the blanket while you take a shower to heat up and he let Rapmon snuggle with him bc two heat sources are better than one and soon it’ll be three once you get out of the shower

He kinda assumes you’ll be okay with it, you already know he’s a werewolf so surely this will be okay right??

But he forgets about the fact that you haven’t seen him like that yet

You don’t notice until you actually get into the bed bc he’s tucked under all of the blankets so you’re a bit ?? when you feel fur against your legs

You assume it’s Rapmon until you see his lil paw sticking out from the blanket, too far away from you for it to be him

You look under the blanket to see this giant ass wolf and you don’t really know how to react

You know in the back of your mind that it’s most likely Namjoon bc he is  a werewolf after all, it wouldn’t be that weird if he could become a wolf but that part of your brain doesn’t get acknowledged at first bc there’s a fucking wolf in your bed how does one react to this

You kinda just stare at each other for a few seconds and he’s trying to judge your reaction while being half asleep and you’re trying to figure out what your reaction should be

It isn’t until you see Rapmon cuddled up to the wolf that you figure it’s safe bc surely rapmon wouldn’t do that to a wild wolf plus Namjoon wouldn’t just casually let a wolf into the house and not tell you about it

It’s actually kinda cute to see him like that bc he’s got these really long legs and he’s h u g e like he’s the second biggest in the pack and he’s got this long dark brown fur that’s s o soft but then his eyes are still the same as his human eyes, they’re still so bright and you can see the happiness in them when you pet him and you can just imagine the smile that would be on his face

Giant wolf but an even bigger puppy

You weren’t scared of him to begin with but any chance of a fear is long gone the minute you’re rubbing his belly and cooing at him and playing with his ears

So he’s the alpha of the pack right

Full moons are always something he needs to be there for bc he likes to make sure everything is going okay for everyone, no one needs any help controlling any urges, no one’s playing too roughly, the humans are safe, etc.

He would get a bit protective over you with the other wolves just bc he knows that sometimes they don’t realize their own strength

And while another wolf can take that too-rough bite and shake it off, a human can’t so joon does hover around you when he sees another wolf with you

He knows they would never intentionally hurt you but he also has that wolf side of him that’s just like gotta protect gotta protect gotta protect

But that’s nothing compared to if it was a serious threat

With the other wolves, it’s more of a warning growl here and there if they start playing too rough, it’s keeping an eye on them

But if it’s serious, that’s an entirely different story, if there’s one thing you never wanna do, it’s threaten an alpha or their love bc then you have the entire pack chasing you down and BTS has a hu g e pack, it’s the boys, their parents, their siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, family friends, it’s not a pack you wanna try to challenge

Regardless of whether it’s the alpha or not, they’re gonna defend their own but if it is the alpha, it’s like trying to poke a crocodile with a stick, they just get even more protective bc the alpha is like the glue of the pack, it’s up to Namjoon to keep everyone happy and healthy and make sure no one’s pissed off at each other for too long, he keeps everything running smoothly

So the last thing anyone wants is to see him upset bc they’re all v v grateful for him and appreciate him a lot so his love is gonna be protected, not only that, but you also have Namjoon that isn’t about to let that happen

He’s normally really humane despite being part wolf so if he’s growling (and it isn’t just a lil warning type of growl, like the one he gives the younger wolves when they bite at his ankles or bite down too hard) you know shit’s about to go down

As I’ve mentioned in the other posts, jealousy isn’t the same for a werewolf as it is with a human bc werewolves mate for life, once they love you, they love you, that’s it, there is no chance of them falling for someone else or cheating or even thinking about anyone else in that way

He does jealous but it’s in a “hey I want your attention” type of way so if you’re spending too much time with one of the other pack members, he’s gonna try to get you attention back on him, hugging you, giving your cheek a kiss or two, dances around you, anything like that

But if you were to get jealous, since you are human, he’s gotta laugh at the fact that you think anyone could even come close to taking him from you

“I’ve got my love, why would I wanna give that up for someone I don’t know??”

If you were genuinely upset over it, he would of course take it much more seriously and not giggle about it but if it was just a bit of light jealousy bc someone hit on him or was too touchy with him, he’s just gonna think you’re really cute

But he does take insecurities about being human more seriously

His father is human so he’s grown up hearing the stories of how it’d taken his father a while to get used to being a human in a pack of werewolves and how he used to wonder if his mother would’ve rather been with a werewolf bc they’d understand everything about being a werewolf that a human can’t fully understand

And you feel that same way bc you’ll never know what it really feels like on a full moon, you can’t relate to that side of him on a personal level, whereas another werewolf could, very easily

But he reassures you that he doesn’t care that you’re human, especially since he was raised with a human parent

He’s totally open for having a serious conversation about it, if that what it takes to make sure you know he really genuinely 100% doesn’t care that you aren’t a werewolf

“You know me a l o t better than any other werewolf ever could, I’m good with my words aren’t I?? I can just describe how it feels”

Werewolf!Namjoon as a boyfriend is just really cute, always up for cuddles and always okay with belly rubs

[mauridianhallow]

A L L O F T H E Q U E S T I O N S

Good shit good shit this took me ages holy hell enjoy you meme loving fucks Q's for you to A Do you have a favourite sweater? I actually do, it's that kinda folded over stretchy grey one I always wear, y'know? I wore it to The 1975 and, from what I hear, it was awesome. (Although I can't remember bc I was Gin Drunk) What’s your middle name? Lawrence...no judgement...Do you still talk to the first person you kissed? I don't, I wonder how's she's doing. Heard she was studying History from her friend I met in a bar one time. Glad to hear, she was nice. Do you get on with your grandparents? I did! Sadly it's been a few years since they passed but I very much did. What was your favourite cartoon as a kid? Hmm, it's a tough one, between the 90's X-Men TV show they played on repeat on Fox Kids or Ben 10 when it wasn't absolute shit like the remake. Yeah I'm bitter. What’s your favourite cartoon now? Archer lol Do you read the news paper? Yeah pretty much every day...I swear I'm not an old man. Who was the last text you sent to? My friend Laura, asking if they'll still be at the park when I finish work. What does the last text you sent say? "Y'all still gonna be there when I get away?" If you could have any hair colour what would it be? Idk I like the one I have. Do you like nature documentaries? Not really my cup of tea to be perfectly honest. What is your aesthetic? Climbing a mountain at a 90° angle in Skyrim on a horse. When did you last pet a dog? ''Twas yesterday. Whose friend’s parents do you like the most? The twins'! They employ me! I literally get paid to hang out with friends some days that's the good shit! Have you ever been on a road trip? I've been on a couple, longest was a drive to Southern Spain from Scotland! Was awesome! Tell me about someone you know called Emma? Went to school with her, cool gal, she saw HP in London and I'm jealous, shoutout to @weewildelassAre you reading a book in english class, what is it? Oh god I'm old. I haven't had or attended an English class in over 2 years. Do you have a favourite Aunt? Well considering she also employs me...hell yeah, shoutout to my Aunt K you legend! Baths or showers? Baths for comfort and treating yo self, or sharing...😏...Showers for quickness and weird snapchats at 3am...😂 Skiing or sun bathing? Sun bathing my dude. Do you kill spiders? Sometimes, sometimes not. Have you ever made an ice pop? I have not. Are you wearing shoes right now? I'm not wearing anything rn. Tell me about you favourite primary school/elementary school teacher? Let me tell you about Mrs. Mary "The Bonecrusher" Highland, and how she was such an iconic, legendary, influential and inspiring woman that she was the person you sent into the bad fucked up schools in movies and have them all pass with straight A's, she ran a tough ship and was slow to praise but when she did, she went all out, and made you feel like what you had achieved was truly a feat. Oh and she encouraged children to learn and think for themselves, genuinely encouraged you when you said you were interested in something even when it went above and beyond the curriculum. She was charitable, friendly, and spoke to you like you were an equal, and a worthy one at that. Mrs. Highland was literally so influential in so many people in my class being successful, free minded, hard working adults that she deserves a goddamn award. And let me tell you another thing, at the end of my First Year in College, I went back to my old Primary School for a teaching assistant internship because I knew the school was becoming a bit run-down and out of control and I wanted to help the way that Mrs. Highland had, and who had they just asked to come out of retirement, come back for TWO WEEKS, sort shit out and then walk away into the sunset like some goddamn Old Lady Teaching Avenger who appears when needs were greatest? MARY FUCKING HIGHLAND, I GOT TO HELP ONE OF MY CHILDHOOD HEROES BE AN ABSOLUTE TEACHING LEGEND AND REALLY INFLUENCE SOME GOOD IN A KIDS LIFE, THAT IS THE SHIT! Seriously though, she truly is one of the good ones, they don't make em like Her anymore. Who was the last person you hugged? I think that would be my mother actually hahah. Do you wear glasses? Occasionally. Do you have a cat? I sadly do not. Do you have a favourite pair of underwear? Not a favourite pair exactly more like a favourite kind?? Next All-Black, that's the good shit, makes my ass look great among other things. What was your last tweet? "How the fuck do you work twitter" about 5 years ago and I haven't used it since. Do you still use Facebook? I do, rarely. Do you like birds? Aye pal birds, blokes, the lot. Who was the last person you called cute? That genuinely would be my niece, or you lol Who was the last person that called you cute? This is a strange answer but a regular in my work. Long story. How did you meet your best friend? I literally turned a corner and ran into a group of emo's in like Fourth Year at High School and I haven't looked back since. Escalators or elevators? Nah m8, trick question, I'd rather take the stairs. Does wonders for the thighs. Are you named after anyone, who? Ahaha yeah my dad, both my granddads, and Saint. Christoper (Catholic mum yo) What was your first url? I have no idea. Autumn or Winter? Winter I can't lie. Do you win at scrabble? I do not lol Put your ipod on shuffle , who is the first song that comes up by? "American Idiot", Green Day. Classic. Have you ever drunk from a mason jar? I have not. Can you draw? Barely even write m8 let alone draw. What was your first profile picture? I think it was Kenny from South Park. Favourite t-shirt? God I have no idea. Best tumblr friend? Shoutout to @bepizzazzed and @double-dorks-beanie and @hesitant-butthole When did you last run? Tonight when as a joke my friends took my jacket and tried to get it on top of a climbing frame? lol I had it back in seconds and decided to get some payback ahah Do you like to paint your nails? Not particularly fussed, not a look I could pull off. Did you ever do something as a kid that got you into loads of trouble? I did more things to get me into trouble as a kid that anyone should ever do. And I still did it. Who is your favourite dog that isn’t yours? Trick question, all of them. Have you ever been drunk? Literally so many times. So many. Have you ever done something you regret while drunk? Some-thing? Some-one? Getting into a slutty dance off with a professional dancer? Stealing a mannequin? The exact words "I can easily make this jump..."? The exact words "Watch this lads"? The exact words "Shots won't do me any harm"? The exact words "Another Venom? Aye no bother!" The exact words "You can crash at mine if you like...?" You get the picture...I do messed up shit I'm drunk, and yet, I continue to do so. Do you want to kiss anyone right now? Ronald McDonald ngl for the sweet sweet invention of double cheeseburgers. Do/did you like you math teacher? I had a crush on both of my maths teachers, Mr. Kelly and Mrs. Hendry, both of which contributed to me turning up to class, but also contributed to me failing said classes bc I was too busy looking at them and being a hormone ridden, horny 16 year old boy, than I was doing maths. Do you often ride the bus? I do, everyday I'm in College. Do you have a fireplace in your house? We do actually it's getting renovated right now. Are you violent when you’re angry? God no! Do you cry when you’re angry? No, I rarely get angry and when I do it can only be described as dry anger. Favourite Harry Potter book? It has to be OotP, fight me. Can you remember your last dream? I can, and let me just say, Chris Pratt, thank you. Do you go to bed early or late? "Do I go to bed?" would be a better question. Do you speak a second language? I speak various levels of different languages. Some if you dropped me in their respective countries I could find my way about, albeit difficultly, and others I can ask for the bar and the bill and that's about it. Who was your first ever best friend? A boy called Dean. Have you ever had an operation? I've had a couple yeah. Tell me about your favourite cousin? His name is Reece and he's a meme loving shit and I love him the whacky bastard. Do you have a piece of clothing that doesn’t even fit you anymore but you can’t bare to throw away? During what can only be described as the Greatest Summer of My Teenage Years; the Legendary Summer of 2014, I wore on my feet almost EVERY DAY a pair of Classic Chuck's, they cost my poor wee mum like £60 the Christmas before but they were too big and when it finally hit summer they fit perfectly. I wore them every time. If you've ever read the book Me Before You or watched the film you'll know what I mean when I say they were my bumblebee tights. Have you ever been in a musical? I played the Cowardly Lion in my school play as a kid. Do you have a porch? I do not. How many times have you watched your favourite movie? At least 100 no joke it has to be. Empire Strikes Back. What do you order at McDonalds? Plain double cheese , small fries, Oasis Summer Fruits and maybe a coffee. Do you get on with old people? Worryingly well. Science Fiction or Romance? Sci-Fi m8. Do you take naps? Anytime I can. How many classes do you/did you take in High School? In my final year I took 3 classes. At its height I think I was doing 9 classes. When did it last snow where you live? A few months back. Does it ever snow where you live? It's Scotland...hahah it very much does. How many months until your birthday? 12 m8. How much charge does your computer have right now? 42%What is your favourite Disney Channel Original Movie? I don't actually think I had one. Sorry. the City or the Sea Side? Jokes on you fool, you can have both. What is your least favourite colour? Beige. Who tf likes being beige. Do you have homework to do? Nah. Are you still friends with your first best friend? I am not. Do you have/are you the gay cousin? I have an asexual cousin, bug more often than not I'm the gay cousin. Do you own dungarees? They can look cute on peeps. Do you like to play sport? I do, not to the extent I used to but yeah. What was your favourite ever Christmas present? My baby nephew. How old are you? Ugh I'm 20. Do you ever use Internet Explorer? Not for s long time. Have you ever had blonde hair? I haven't no. I wanted to but sadly I was a kid. When did you last see the person you have a crush on? Well considering I fall deeply in love with strangers who are nice to me on the train, that question is crazy. Who did you last talk to on the phone? Laura. Pants or Dresses? This question is a lot funnier in the UK and even funnier in Scotland where a man can wear one, but to do so, he's not supposed to wear the other 😉 Do you read fan fiction? Not anymore y'know. What is you’re favourite blog? @mauridianhallow is a pretty cool blog you should check that shit out Do you write poetry? I HAVE written poetry before. Drama or Comedy? How dare you insult The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt by suggesting you can't be both. Have you ever had a hickey? Perhaps...perhaps I have. Perhaps I cannot remember how I got some of them. Perhaps I should stop buying the ENTIRE bar a round of shots knowing all too well that almost every one of these people will offer to buy me drinks all night and then I won't pay shit for another drink until the night is over. Perhaps I should...I won't but I fucking should. And perhaps this has on certain occasions resulted in hickeys I don't know.

[some-rfa-imagines]

RFA + V and Saeran as parents?

Yesssss~ Let’s do this! lolololol

 it might be a little short as inspiration is running from me… gET BACK HERE YOU LAZY SHIT

SPOILERS FOR AFTER ENDINGS

Oh, it’s all under the cut after Yoosung’s just for length

-

Yoosung

- very proud

- omg he carries a photo of your family in his wallet and shows it to all his friends

- he’s not that good with her tantrums and tries everything to make her happy. but sometimes he knows he has to be firm so he deals with it accordingly

- sometimes he gets stressed about your little girl so you have to do things for him - even if you just said you were going to rest

- sometimes you wonder who the baby in the family actually is

- your daughter is pretty chill and loves to watch him play LoLoL (she loves all the pretty colours on screen even though she doesn’t really get what’s going on)

- usually you have to drag her away after a little bit though because too much screen time is bad for her health (Yoosung didn’t even notice until she was tugging on his sleeve asking if she could sit on his lap and watch which is when you swooped in and took her away)

- Yoosung is a lost cause anyway

- reads a lot of animal picture books to her

- sometimes brings her to work with him once she’s grown up a little more and shows her all the animals

- lets her help out whenever possible

- when she’s older he teaches her LoLoL

- still asks her to study and helps her when she needs it they end up noogling a whole load of stuff

- when it comes to the talk he chickens out and asks you to do it

- your daughter grows up pretty self-sufficient and knows when to stop playing games and study unlike Yoosung when he was her age

- will probably comfort her a lot when her ex breaks her heart and then has the harshest glares you’d ever seen if they see them in public

Zen

- your son is more of a mama’s boy which equals play-jealousy from Zen

- “He loves you more than meeee~…!” “Haha Zen, sucks for you!!” “*dramatic gasp*”

- he probably feels really bad whenever your son is throwing a tantrum and if it’s just them, he’ll take him away from people and just into the calm and quietly sing until he’s calmed down

- brings him to all of his rehearsals when you have work and lets him play with the costumes and go onstage

- all of the cast and crew love him

- bench presses with your son on his back

- so many cute selfies as a family jfc Zen thIS IS THE FIFTH ONE IN TWO MINUTES

- when he grows up, Zen teaches him manners and knocks into his head never to break a girl’s heart

- he grows up with perfect manners

- Zen tries his best to help out with homework, but considering he didn’t really care or do very well in school he makes sure his kid knows that grades and stuff don’t matter and it’s a lot more fulfilling to be happy in life.

- they usually sneak out of the house and meet up with V and his kids to just play and ignore responsibilities

- when he has to do the talk, he’s pretty chill about it but makes sure his son knows when to stop and when the other person feels uncomfortable etc etc etc

- just really worried

- takes to social media with a very vague tript when his son’s heart is broken

- probably something along the lines of: “damn, i never realised how expensive (insert comfort food) is until my son had his heart broken and won’t stop eating it”

- but doesn’t let the fans take it too far

Jaehee

- superstar mama

- seriously so organised with e v e r y t h i n g

- if your little girl throws a tantrum, she’ll just sit her down and ask what’s wrong. the situation would be very calm and end up good every time

- lets your little girl come ‘help out’ in the cafe whenever she wants

- all your regular customers love her

- they bake cookies and decorate them together for the customers

- Jaehee takes photos and hangs them up around the cafe and the house, taking down most of her Zen memorabilia

- if she’s ever having a difficult time with homework, Jaehee swoops to the rescue and patiently explains everything until she understands

- your kid ends up the best in the class

- “jaehee did you do her assignment again” “what? no… i helped a little.”

- makes the best lunches ever that your daughter shares with Jumin’s daughter

- every other kid is jealous

- when it comes to the talk, Jaehee explains very comfortably and answers every question

- and about love, she reminds her that no matter who she loves, she’ll always be welcome at home… as long as they don’t bring a cat or are an asshole

- your little girl grows up well behaved, organised and a great cook

- Jaehee will probably give a very thorough lesson to your little girls ex when they break her heart

Jumin

- spoils your little girl rotten

- but she’s like her mama in that aspect - will take it but doesn’t always want it

- he doesn’t really know how to deal with her tantrums so you do it

- she makes a lot of macaroni photo frames (becsue they seem to have an endless supply of macaroni) and he uses every single one of them - even at work

- if anyone looks at them the wrong way he’ll most likely decline whatever they’re offering

- gets her the best education he can get

- she ends up very close friends with Jaehee’s daughter and they share their awesome lunches

- very protective of his little girl if anyone (especially Zen’s son *coughcough*) tries to date her

- he does a thorough background check on her partners

- he would probably be willing to do the talk but you fear she’ll be very confused so you do it instead

- “i don’t understand, MC, i could’ve easily done it…” “Just- don’t worry about it, Jumin.”

- he teaches her about businesses and what to do when dealing with a rude person

- she grows up smart af, very good at business and a smooth talker able to deal with difficult partners

- will make her ex disappear if they break her heart

- like literally

(for the choi bois:

*screaming intensifies*

- now theres two original chois (the tomato brothers)

- two merged chois (Saeyoung’s partner and Saeran’s partner)

- and three baby chois (the tomato twins and tomato girl

= seven chois in total)

Seven

- heebus cheebus twins

- s O  M U CH  R ED  M AN Y  TO M AT  O  C HI LDR EN 

- tbh he’d be s c a r e d to be a father but would end up nailing it

- probably is involved in their little arguments

- the kids are in love with all of his creations

- though you told him to remove the fire from the fire-breathing dog

- he’d tell dramatic stories about how a strong elf (Saeran) had been taken away from his brother by an evil serpent (r i k a) who had used him badly until a magical elf (their aunt) had helped him

- and the story of how the lonely strawberry (himself) who had always pretended to be happy until a kind piece of chocolate (you) helped them overcome all the bad things was their favourite

- every time he told that story, you’d begin to cry a little from behind the door. every time it was a different obstacle in your life together

- every other story was one of the RFA members and their partners’ love story (but child proofed)

- they’re already pretty smart kids but he helps them out with all their difficult subjects by making them fun and interesting anyway

- Saeran and his daughter check in and they all do group study sessions

- they have a fun and loving childhood in general

- he does the talk though you’re in the room to make sure he doesn’t make it weird. it ends up weird anyway

- “mum, was one of us unplanned?” uhhhh what do you say here

- “Yes” whAT THE FUCK SAEYOUNG *cue the twins arguing who was unplanned*

- he doesn’t care who they end up with as long as they make his kids happy, aren’t assholes and love cats

- if the boys have their hearts broken, he’ll probably go back to his hacking ways and glitch their accounts and buy useless stuff etc.

- by the end of the day, the Defender of Justice gives them their ‘punishment’ for breaking his son’s hearts

V

- g e n t l e

- he’s literally just as gentle as ever but definitely firm

- has this magical ability to calm your children?????? like, if they’re arguing he just gives them this look and says he’s disappointed or how he can’t believe they would want to stress you out this much and they’re calm and apologising????? what??????

- a very calm household usually

- you guys go out a lot and he takes a lot of photos whenever possible

- so many photos of your family around the house and in photo books

- he sings them to sleep whenever they’re being difficult

- helps them patiently whenever they’re having difficulty with schoolwork but if they really can’t get it, he tells them it’s okay and your grades don’t define your worth, talent or intelligence

- they all usually leave to go meet up with Zen and his son to take a break from  work (and to take photos in V’s situation)

- they grow up incredibly kind, patient and calm

- you both do the talk and it’s all very chill and actually over quite quickly to your relief

- like the rest, he wouldn’t care who your children ended up with as long as their hearts aren’t broken or they’re hurt at all

- scarily calm if their hearts are broken like, it’s legitimately terrifying???

- you don’t ever hear about it again and it worries you…

Saeran

- s t REs Se D? ?? 1?1?

- very worried that he’ll hurt your little girl in some way but gets over it pretty quick

- hardly allows Saeyoung near her but is cool with the Tiny Twins™ as long as she’s not hurt

- not the best with any tantrums she throws (but she’s usually a pretty chill kid) so he deals with it with ice cream

- they share a mutual obsession with ice cream so you usually have to hide it from them

- she’s already a smart cookie but he tries his best to help her out in her weaker subjects anyways along with the Trouble Twins™ which usually ends up in disaster but whatever

- she grows up to be very happy and peaceful but with her fathers temper

- Saeran is concerned when she wants to start dating but respects her wishes as long as they aren’t a douche

 - the talk is probably very awkward so you have to swoop in and save the day

- if anyone breaks her heart (why would they even dare?) then he’ll get very very scary again and be extra-protective until she’s happy again (it includes a lot of ice cream)

-

ehhhhhhhhh that felt repetitive

i’m sorry if it’s not that good, ideas are flowing out of me faster than the channels on TV so it’s kinda hard but I wanted to give you guys smth anyway ^^

pls forgive

bye bye!! *poof*

[ronansparrishes]

I was tagged to answer all of these questions!!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

more milk than cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

yes i don’t like to be super warm ever 

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

usually sticky notes that i write things on about the book or like lists of stuff that i have due that week

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

i take tea with nothing in it and coffee with lots of sugar and cream 

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

yeah my teeth are a little weird

6: do you keep plants?

yep! i have two cacti, richie and nini

7: do you name your plants?

see above lmao 

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

i’m a writer

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

i literally never stop singing lmao but yeah i do

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

back or stomach

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?

“I have to microwave this” anytime anything is awkward 

12: what's your favorite planet?

saturn 

13: what's something that made you smile today?

i had a nice talk with a girl from my history class and this guy from my shakespeare class last semester, like we sat on the benches outside of this building for an hour and a half

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

plants and paper everywhere lmao 

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

space is... big

16: what's your favorite pasta dish?

alfredo which im eating right now

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

like a reddish color

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

calling the musical oklahoma ‘kansas’ 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

i have one but i barely write in it lmao

20: what's your favorite eye color?

i don’t have one

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

my like briefcase bag thing that i used for like 3+ years and the strap was broken but i kept using it

22: are you a morning person?

yeah i guess, like i get up early every day for class and im usually pretty awake and functioning 

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

read fanfiction and watch musicals

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

b, corinne

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?

i dont think i ever have 

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

my black knock off vans from target

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?

anything fruity

28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

b always leaves me sticky notes and they’re always so cute

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

yeah probably

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

i have so many socks and i never wear matching ones and my dad gets mad when i buy more socks

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

idk me and b used to stay up real late with JM and send each other dumb memes

33: what's your fave pastry?

anything with peanut butter

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

violet, she was like a tiny purple weasel thing...

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

YES I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I COLLECT CUTE STATIONARY 

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

the front bottoms

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

i clean my room every sunday usually

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

everything my stupid roommate does

39: what color do you wear the most?

black or red

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?

i don’t wear jewelry

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?

the raven cycle series!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

we live right next door to a coffeehouse, it’s not my fave but i spend a lot of time there. it’s student run so it’s kinda shitty lol

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

probably b

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

right now, sitting in the kitchen with my friends

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

yes

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

im too lazy, ask ali

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

onions

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

clowns, probably

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

i buy kpop CDs lol u, i gotm lemonade for christmas from my friend

50: what's an odd thing you collect?

socks

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

b - hey thanks by the wonder years

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

the one making fun of student athletes 

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

all of them but pulp fiction, i like rocky horror and heathers a lot

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

i don’t.... know...

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?

spent 5 days not talking to any of my friends

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

when they’re funny 

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

i’m not going to but if i did i would dramatically reenact it

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

im both. bet

59: what's your favorite myth?

anything greek

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

yeah, i like bukowski

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?

everything i give is dumb, also one time veronica got me a slinky for christmas and i was so mad

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

apple!! 

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

i organize by letter 

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

black, it’s night

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?

corinne or my friend mason

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

BLACK

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

like kind of at peace and calm

68: what's winter like where you live?

cold as fuck and lots of snow

69: what are your favorite board games?

clue!!!! idk a bunch 

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

fuck no i dont fuck with that

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?

chamomile 

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

no i have a really good memory

73: what are some of your worst habits?

biting my nails, being generally awful 

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

egg

75: tell us about your pets!

i have none :(

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?

sleeping lol i have to be up at 5:30

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

yellow lemonade

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

HATECLUB

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

make me a mix CD

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

at school and at home they’re both white, but they’re covered in posters of things i like, like monsta x and the x files

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

egg

82: are/were you good in school?

yeah i usually get all A’s, school/academics are super important to me and i’ve always been good at them

83: what's some of your favorite album art?

any front bottom’s cover

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

yes! the phrase “a miracle of moving parts” 

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

nah but i watch daredevil

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

yeah, lemonade. and so many others

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

ferris bueller’s day off, all the LOTR, les mis

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

dadaism lmao

89: are you close to your parents?

not my mom but i’ve live with my dad since i was 15, he’s like my best friend probably 

90: talk about your one of your favorite cities.

i really love Nuremberg when i was there. it was so nice and beautiful yet still modern?? but there were furries everywhere lmao

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

around PA and maybe jersey and new york, nowhere major tho

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

so much

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?

hair down, pin straight bc that’s how it drys 

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

ummmmmmmmmm idk im bad at this lmao

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

newspaper layout

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

no i like never do

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INFJ, cancer, gryffindor

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

with dallas last spring break probably lmao no i hate hiking 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

we don’t eat by james vincent mcmorrow or something like that

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

future. forget the past lmao

[zombolouge]

11 Questions

I was tagged by my perfect Unicorn Wife @whenwewereoceans to answer these here questions, and then ask different ones. WOOOO. (like ya do)

1. How do you take your coffee?

I prefer flavored creamer only, but if none of that is available I will do just cream. A lot of cream.

2. What’s your favourite kind of weather?

RAIN. Rain, storms, cold. Anything that makes it good sweater weather. I would like to experience some real snow sometime soon, because I’m pretty sure I would like it a lot, too.

3. If you could go back in time, where would you visit?

I’mma go back in time with a sweet arsenal and tame some fucking dinosaurs. I will be queen of the dinosaurs. Y’all will see cave drawings of a smol redhead riding around on pterodactyls and be like “she’s a myth”. No, wrong, it was me, I did it, and then I came back forward to lurk on tumblr, because y’all don’t know about my dinosaurs.

4. What’s the weirdest song in your music library?

The entire Galavant soundtrack.

5. If you could invent a national holiday, what would you celebrate?

National Stay at Home and Let me Write day. It’s a day where I don’t have to go to work or talk to people, and I can write from the minute I wake up without being interrupted, and somebody brings me tea and food so I don’t even have to stop for that. (just think how many words I could write you guys. I wonder what the world record is for most words in a day??)

6. What would you like to be famous for?

WRITING. MY STORIES. HAVING EXCELLENT CHARACTERS IN MY STORIES.

7. What is the thing you have loved the longest?

Uh...reading, I suppose? O.o

8. What would you name your pet dragon?

Jeff

9. Is there a kind of food you can’t stand, but everyone else likes? Or vice versa?

Cilantro. And I like to eat tuna sandwiches with pickles and cheese, which is apparently some kind of sin against mankind.

10. What is your favourite literary genre?

Fantasy, with Science Fiction in a close second.

11. What is your favourite thing about yourself?

That I write very very fast.

MY QUESTIONS, BEHOLD THEIR SPLENDOR:

1. You have successfully cloned yourself. What is the first thing you will ask your clone to do?

2. You have to change your name, BY LAW, and you get to choose what it will be. The catch? It can only be from JRPGs created in the last 2 years. SO, WHO ARE YOU GOING TO BECOME?

3. When was the last time you got so happy you screamed and kicked your feet a lil’ bit like a cartoon character?

4. What the fuck is wrong with ducks?

5. What are your three least favorite synonyms for “balls”?

6. You have been tasked with saving the Bees. All of them. FUCKING DO IT, THEY ARE ENDANGERED OMG.

7. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS, THE CLOCK IS TICKING, DON’T MESS IT UP: What is your favorite animal?

8. If you could be any deep sea horror, which one would you be and why?

9. My autocorrect really wants to change “Cthulhu” to “Cathleen”. If Cathleen were an eldritch horror, what do you think would be her worst attribute?

10. How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck were a 50-foot tall robot with the fur of a thousand moose plastered to its cold, chrome exterior?

11. You’re going to the family reunion. Are you:

a) the gay cousin

b) the drunk aunt

c) uncle “ate all the fucking fried chicken again” Sal,

d) scene teen

e) someone’s mom on the verge of an anxiety attack because god dammit Percy, you can’t just put things down your pants in public you’re embarrassing me and that was a whole bowl of jello

f) drunk but not an aunt

g) an orphan and very lonely

h) the weird third cousin who farms llamas and won’t stop talking about it but for the love of God, Harold, no one wants a fucking sweater

i) the one that takes Monopoly really seriously

j) auditioned for the Bachelor/Bachelorette and was told they would be called. They weren’t.

k) dad who is aggressively proud of his gay son and needs everyone to hear about it

l) the aunt with lipstick that is kinda melting but nobody wants to tell her

m) the rich one

n) the one that can’t stand the rich one because you didn’t fucking earn it, Sasha, get a fucking grip

o) the Cat Person

p) the Dog Person

q) A Slytherin

r) The Hufflepuff that insists they’re really a Gryffindor

s) licking all the frosting all the cupcakes and then just leaving them there what the fuck, Josh

t) Not Anyone’s Real Dad Todd

u) The Sane One

v) hitting on their cousin, but only to piss off their mom

w) The anime fan

x) the inter-dimensional traveler who disappears mysteriously as soon as someone starts talking about tracking “strange readings” to a blue police box

y) The Artist

z) fucking done

I’m gonna tag: @illneverrecover @wesnest @kmandergirl @celeste-draws @evillyte @m0th3rw4r @mercenarysexuality @rhetoricalrogue @rederiswrites @shenko​ and anybody else that wants to answer my questions, feel free, because I would LOVE to see your answers. <3

[lullaandby]

SU

2.         

*

SECTION C.

 JIZZ for Jesus 1 minute 15 seconds/ short.

My being single was a topic that has worried my 85 year old father.  

a treasure chest of  anxiety who had anointed himself my dating guru.

  Every week he comes up with a new line of advice.

 The first was that I should go to church and find a nice guy.

 Ah ok, but Church is centered around redemption themed activities.

 What am I going to do- tell someone

 "hey. I ah just saw the way you placed your lips to that chalice- and it got something going down here

 He thought about it some more and came back with-

 ["Hey Jo!  You know what?"

 That's the way my dad always speaks, in a tenor most people reserve for an extreme emergency, like a school evacuation.

 "These guys are no good.

Nah. Not like how they used to be.

So you fuck 'em Jo. Take what you need and get outta there. Don't be a whore but just get what you need."

  Okay dad. Very different types of advice but thank you.

  So I figured out a way to combine the two bits of information. It's a little program I like to call Jizz For Jesus.

 Just vats of cum in my face in the name of our lord and savior.

 Just trying to be a good daughter. ]

  Then he goes " HEY Jo"

 That tone means he doesn't want my mom to hear.

 What Dad.

 "Are you a lesbian?"

 No Dad.

 "ok well I want you to know it's ok."

 thanks.

 "well.... do you know what they do?"

 who?

 "The LESBIANS!!! how do they do it"

  Dad. We're done here.

  ST HORROR

 Catholic interior design is amazingly bold.

 Where else would you be able to get away

With that focal point?

 Imagine walking into the grocery store to get some ice cream

 And you saw a statue of someone over the cereal aisle

life size

Just bleeding.

 Then another one by the ice cream

Smiling while a gentle breeze rolls

Through his luscious locks

And sun illuminates down upon him.

 And everyone else was like oh yeah.

That’s our good  buddy Ralph.

He helped to make this place.

 No worries just keep hoping for a good life and

Get all your groceries into a cart.

  Or just rolling up to your first soccer game

And over the goal net

there’s a photo of your neighbor,

Mr. Gershon who served in Vietnam

And passed away last year.

 Just bleeding profusely.

 And everyone’s just like oh yeah.

He sacrificed for us.

 No worries here’s an orange slice ad some high c fruit punch.

 It’s just how you avoid hell.

Did you bring in money for team photo?

And how’s your fundraising going for the new jerseys.

 FIREY PITS

The whole concept of hell gets so left behind.

 It becomes this thought in the back of your mind,

To Avoid the  fiery pit.

  Really the church needs a revamp.

 Instead of a fiery pit just start telling people

They will get zero likes on their posts

If they don’t comply.

 Watch pews fill up.

   GOOD TO KNOW the Bible

Dad the only person who invited in Jehovahs they multiplied.

 The he…

 Years later they still came to visit him so we had to do what I like to call reverse bible chats.

 It always starts with a lead in question

“Do you know…” and they insert a bible verse.

 It’s a trap like when your friend asks you if you know someone else-

Either they talked shit about you or you are going to hear shit talked about them.

 But when it’s bible rhetoric it’s so easy to just listen

And hit them with

 Dueternonmy

Or

Corninthians and just put in random numbers.

Then conclude with your own opinion.

 And they walk away.

  OFFERING OTHER SALVATION

Just so odd

What other types of salvation?

 Some like weird cheese

Do it out

  BIBLICAL HERO

Take a quiz to see what type of biblical hero you are

Moses

Mary Magdalene cuz she’s a hoe

 How did they have hoes in the Bible?

  I’d like to see a Moses parting the seas of peers who are holding back orgasms

And older ladies shaming for wearing too short skirts and saying well you asked for it,nder their breath

 And he just bellows out

“Let my whores go”

 Then they walk to a land where

they create amazing porn for ladies and general

healthcare that covers all forms of birthcontrol

  *

PORHN HUB THE WORLD

More than the bible, The answer is porn

if there were as many categories on porn hub

As there were ideas  for world peace and conservation

We’d be all set.

 LADIES NIGHT

We need more categories for porn by ladies.

Just liven it up make it more representative.

 Less filthy next door neighbor taking big dicks

 Reading a book and getting your nips tweaked

Getting your ass eaten while watching cute animals lick their faces

Finishing a craft while on top - look how cute his eyes are, and then you just go to outer space

Eating lasagna while anything

  LADIES ARE MORE DANGEROUS

More outlets for female intelignece and for ladies to cum.

That combo creates a burtito cloud of peace with melted cheese around the female psyche.

 This is essential.

 Ask any dude who is pissed off a crazy eyes girl.

Who was just one two many break ups deep.

 There are absoultely crazy guys

But they more start a ned narrative that didn’t happen

Or if something was wrong they just avoid and deny.

 Pretty Much All Ladies will say-

Ok let me find your birth record,

Then trail onto you best friend from preschool

Take a flight to New Orleans- get a witch

Dig up a dead body and procure the two pinky fingers as payment

Rally up anyone else who hates you

Put their soul in a doll, send it to your house

 Then around 10pm give you 3 hearts on insta to hide the evidence.

 That’s day one.

  *

STORY- ME

   *

( How sexual repression makes you into a vengeful person)

FOR REAL REVENGE.

Girls who are all about the revenge you generally can find zero social media presence on them

And they like to do control based things

  The girl in your office

Keep talking about going to sweet greens

Or paint night

  They are the mid level managers of the world who Marshall over every event and

When you go out to dinner make sure that everyone is paying the exact amount

 THE REAL REGINA GEORGRE

I have no idea why people are obsessed with teenager Regina Georges

Because the real assholes are

repressed, undersexed mothers with body image issues

Who feel as if their children have stolen their lives

  BECUASE FAIR IS FAIR.

 They begin to not even see it as revenge.

It’s just fairness.

 Because they have been taught to be nice and they are seething.

 COME A LONG WAY

We’ve come a long way sexuality from

Your aunt who has the solid Ronald mc Donald hair cut and a long short chino

With a polo shirt

To

[50k categories and several articles]

 MONGOOSE.

  VALIDATION STATION.

Repression  in females comes from mis placed  validation

The validation that seems promised from being nice and doing the right thing.

AND JEALOUSLY

AND WORRIED UR FMAILY WILL REJECT U FOR SPOILING THE GOODS

 Jessica simpson?

  Take most of the single males you know perhaps they are sad,

But they will general find a hobby, pussy, or both.

 When the barrier to entry of pussy gets to expensive, psychotic, difficult or all three.

 They will resort mc guyver like tendencies to find ingenuity.

 Take most females who are single.

They will use the same ingenuity to gain validation from friends and family

Which includes carrier achievement and marriage.

 When the Barriers to entry become challenging they become crazy.

   THAT FRIEND.

If you have been single over twenty eight you have have 100 percent taken a turn

Into crazy town. Driven straight through then taken a right into county love town.

   It looks so much more intense when it’s your friend doing it

 There rare two options for yourself and that friend,

A) you’ll make it by having a life and randomly crying to ColdPlay

B) you will spend all your time trying to find someone like a person who has lost

A puppy.

 MISPLACED.

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS

This is so insane.

  DOWRY

This starts with our parents,

you chose in your family but I like to blame my mother.

 But my dad is to blame to b/c his standards are just wanting me minimally taken care of he’d be like

do you have a car?

A job?

Ok here’s 10k

Remember she likes cheese.

  Bye baby remember to turn the lights off.

  MOTHER SHAME.

     JENNER WORLD

 Pretty soon moms will be fighting over how many likes their daughter gets.

 (Play on how moms compete for girls getting career + marriage)

 end on marriage

  The moms who are exactly the same as Kris Jenner

And there’s a lot

 Except

  Kris is a narcissist who pairs her daughter up with dudes that aren’t great.

Or at the every least doesn’t encourage them to leave.

 Lots of moms are like this- they loose their daughter and their daughters

“Wins” a happy marriage.

 The only difference is these girls wear bikinis instead of a nice tailored slack.

  But who is the influencer of the influencers?

 Do the equation and you will always come up Oprah.

 Just do it out. Oprah.

 And she doesn’t even have instagram.

 And who is her influencer? Maya angelou?

 So strong black women. Mostly BBW.

    PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Maybe there’s  an age where repression just starts settling in

And people look at the people in their family

Who came before them

As precious moments statues.

 Ummm just a quick refresh your moms

Vagina was once a  beatiuous place holder for jizz.

 And grandma probably took a load

And not just to the laundry

Why do you think she carries all those werthers?

 Just our old friend science.

 ****

 JESUS INVENTED BROS

FEMALE VERSION OF BROS

PRODIGY KIDS

     *****

SECTION D.

 KNOW YOUR READY FOR KIDS

You know your ready for kids because

Before when you didn’t get your period and you weren’t having sex

 All you would do is just be like wishing your uterus fondnesses

Thinking that she finally quit,

 Because you can’t blame her all you see around you is nonsense

 Hopefully she is living out her dreams in tiajuanna on a donkey

Wearing a sombrero and partying with a small person,

Who she has to set boundaries with because she’d very into

Group sex and that’s not her jam

    GROUP SEX

Steph and group sex

 Have you ever had a friend who is either being very sexually curious

Or has a really specific thing that they want to try and they’d like

You  to come with them so they just start injecting it into conversations?

     *

FIND SOMEONE

You can’t seem to find anyone yet every single member of the Duggar family is married.

 That’s a lot of kids and you still can’t get a date to last past month three.

  *

  BJs WHOLESALE

  FIND U A MAN

There’s a lot of dating advice out there for ladies but the best is-

Find u a man who looks at you

And takes care of you like he does his own penis.

 You’ll have

infinite  protection

Generous massages

Fresh assortment of culture- movies and photos

Literature in the form of light reading

Long trips

Shelter

If you have sad emotions he’ll do anything to take care of you

And

 Poetry.

      POETRY

Found a website called Hogtied, part of a collection of websites called kink. All the women were tied up. Hot. They also all had clips on their nipples. Sure. The dudes fucking them had locks on their balls.

I'm young, I just assumed that's how adults fucked. So I found some bigass locks for a locker, locked my balls, and started rubbing. It was uncomfortable, but if that's how adults fuck, then I guess I'd better get used to it.

I'll never forget when I finally came. I felt warm inside, like my soul was being cradled by light, all emanating from my dick.

  I'm just glad my roommates didn't happen to come downstairs and see me putting mustard on my dick illuminated by the gentle glow of the open fridge”

  PEZ "Sat at the edge of my bed and catapulted starburst off my rock hard dick into the bobbing maw of a lovely lady I had harbored a crush for for many years. We are still in romance."

 "I'm a grower not a shower so I like to take my scrotum and encase my penis with it. Then when I get an erection, it's like an emerging butterfly."

  DIFFERNCE BETWEEN MALES AND FEMALES.

 WHY WE KILL THEM

 Let him live.

 Riffs on how ladies don’t listen

 Like a dog in a cone

We are always trying to do most likely way too much

       WHY THEY KILL US

He is constantly on a voyage to my boobie.

If I look inside his head it often times it will be like this:

Entry log number 654. I’m approaching the boob.

  How men don’t listen

 How they are so sensitive and we are so so mean

 My husband is one of the most sensitive people I know

 He bruises like a soft Carolina peach

 OK he’s only that way with me b/c he loves me and same with me to him.

So why would I put it in that context?

 How about

My husband is so sensitive he has a thick cock?

   PHD. /// BOB

 MEN ARE A LOT MORE SENSITIVE

Men ae more sensitive but if their values don’t align with yours

FORGET IT.

 But we are the same we just keep seeking the validation from them that we don’t give ourselves.

  MARRIAGE VS DATING

You stick around for varying reasons

 You can’t talk shit behind your husbands back

Not only is it rude

It’s ineffective

 Gotta do it right to their face but they are so sensitive

 So like to give him the same petty sick burns I give to a female

He doesn’t quite get it which is amazing

 When he tries to do it back he does it with sports or movies

And I’m like yeah but I still pulled in money

 You my friend are giving questionable hand jobs in the back seat of a car

 DAVIDS BIRDAL

 BEST PART OF BEING SINGLE

Jelly bean jar/ hyptoenuse

You’ll never figure it out  because couples lie

 S-  CAVEAT EMPTOR//Economy Model Husband

  Black Lab

 Story- TUNA MELT//BRIDGET JONES

Just don’t care

    *****

SECTION F

 OVERSHARE****

 METH NANNY pt2.  20 seconds

My  go to overshare detail

 Is that I’m a nanny and graduated from college

 Some people quickly catipult into concerned pity.

 They'll go-

 "ohhhhhh nooooo. what happened?  {really dramtic sad face}

 did you take a slipsy- slidey into the meth-em-phetamines?

 it that what you did?

 well you have all your teeth, so, it looks like you're on the upside of things"

     TRYING 20

I want life advice from a person whose stumbling onto their own personal truth-

 The guy  in the office who does barely any work,  

 yet has taken it upon himself to give all the ladies in the office massages-

 He's found own glory in caressing Edna's sciatica.

 BUSINESS VENTURES.

Sending off used panties, Netflix dvds

  ROCK BOTTOM

Some jobs feel like your own personal rock bottom.

 In reality you're in an office watching an excel presentation

 But in your soul you’re standing in the middle of Target holding a bag of sun chips and trying to move slowly because you just had an accident in your pants.

  ASS THAT WONT QUIT 15

Some people have told me that I have an ass that won't quit,

 which is strange.

 I've never stayed in a job past a year.

 So Historically  I'm a quitter and I'm pretty sure my ass follows suit.

    Stories- work

 *******

 ****

SECTION F.

CANT HANG

  FRIENDS (material. )

 AFFIRMATIONS

The biggest cautionary tape is When a friends occasional affirmational  FB posts turn into daily ones.

 I called up one of my best friends  after seeing her posts and asked if her marriage- which had been rocky for several years had finally ended.

 How did you know? She said.

  If I had strung a week’s worth of her posts together there'd be fantastic  copy for a new anti- depressant commercial.

  FRIEND BREAK UPS

  TRUE FEMINISM

  QUESTIONABLE INTENSITY

Friends who are Fathers can be slightly overprotective of their daughters,

And mothers can have a questionable level of intensity with their sons.

 My friend pointed at her son as he was playing with Legos  and said, "oh my God.

 Isn't he soooo hot?"

 I had to remind her, " ah at one point he relied on you for sustinance-

 and that’s Nasty Caroline.

 And she said, " I know. I know-

 {caramel voice} But oooooh gurl if he didn't, Hey baby . I see you.  Keep building that tower."

 We then had a conversation on what voice intonations are available to nice white ladies from the suburbs-

 That’s not one of them.

  Not for you girlfriend.

Ditto to any snapping motions.

 Twerking on a case by case basis.

  SECTION G

MOCHA

 OUTRAGE. 25 seconds

When a white Person  stands up for issues facing people of color with such force-

 It feels incredible.

 Wow Luke. You really care. Super woke. Good job.

 Then you see that same person display the equivalent level of outrage-

 for an empty ketchup bottle.

 And you realize just they're working out a wide array of  anger management issues.

 Not really. on. my team.

 CRAFTS

Thank you. To the white people who actually do something.

 Any show of support is great but I do have some questions.

 To the people who went into their craft bins and got pins, to affix to their shirts and show solidarity.

 ah-  but you had a whole craft bin.

 I’m not saying anything fancy but a little flare would have been appreciated.

 A hat with a pom pom?

 Story- affirmative action

   ****

SECTION H.

 DIC PIC. 20 seconds

I've been working with kids for about 15 years, that means  parents periodically send me unsolicited  snapshots of their little cuties.

 Which- is the same as a dick pic.

 That little head pops up on the screen, {hand movement} and all life choices need to be reevaluated

 DIC AS CURRENCY. 20 seconds

I heard a person say “that’s going to cost you a dick pic”

 Hmm. Have things gotten so real with bitcoin we’re now using Dick pics as currency.

 Starbucks girl:Venti iced coffee. Ok that will be two chodes and a a gagger

Me: ok, here you go.

Starcucks girl: Oh okokok. Sorry um that’s only one chode.

Me: Oh I’m sorry. I was trying to be generous.

    Never gotten a dic pic :(

I have never gotten a dick pic.

 Perhaps it’s because my personality is  it’s own restraining order.

 I used to be sad about that in my twenties.

The same way I was sad about having small breasts,

 I mean let’s be mature and call them tiddies-

 In my twenties.

 But then you wake up at thirty two, the sun shining in your apartment and you go out for a ice cream sandwich without a bra and watch a couple looking miserable

 And it all makes sense

 DATING

  Dating-stories

Cemetery guy//soap

Divorced guy with ring

   BALTIMORE BUTTS. 50 seconds

 Ladies  have a tendency to set the expectations of themselves incredibly high.

 Take body maintenance.

 My friend gets electrolysis everywhere,

 including.  her butthole.

 Which is not only fiscally rediculous-

  It's a welcome statement.

 NOPE. mmmmhmm not here.

 I need my butthole to be COMPLETELY terrifying.

 You're driving down a really pleasant residential street and you see that one house that gives you the chills and you have roll up the windows.  

 That's the aesthetic I desire.

 A creaky step. Some chipped paint. Screams from the inside. Ace.

 It's tricky though because of the close proximiity to my punash, which needs to be incredibly welcoming.

 It's doable.

 Have you ever been to Baltimore or Philly?

***tag

So, possible. Just give specific coordinates.

 BB tag. Dinner party.

 ***

 2.        CAHTZ (differences between men and women)

3.        Girls are always covering for cat’s poor behavior past or present

4.         

5.        “Yeah well what did you do to the cat?”

6.         

7.        Boys are always selling

8.        At least one sports team’s merits even if they don’t like sports.

   SUPERIOR SEX.

There is no superior sex

If men were the superior sex

They would tell ladies that if you swallowedjizz

You’d loose 10lbs

  If women were the superior sex

They’d bottle up all the hope in a mans eyes

When you talk about blow jobs

And just place it in a jar.

 Just unleash it like fairy dust

Or whatever they use to make Disney world so magical.

  SECTION I

 2.        ARTISTIC INTEGRITY.

3.        Brother is a nerd

4.         

5.        NERDS

6.         

7.        Valuing yourself for your intellect is no different than valuing yourself for your looks

8.         

9.         

10.     Put you down for not knowing things

11.     Ask about things they know you don’t know

12.     Have side conversations with other people who know things and laugh at a person not knowing

13.     Act like your like you’re stupid b/c they had certain training without talking to you

14.      

15.      

16.     They don’t value.

17.     Having athletic ability

18.     Knowing about pop culture

19.     Being able to socialize

20.     Being able to build things in a blue collar way

21.     Having a work ethic that doesn’t require “difficult” mental tasks

22.     Being kind to people who don’t have influence

23.      

24.      

25.     Things they do.

26.     Being lauded for smart achievements

27.     Knowing things in their field

28.     Knowing niche culture things

29.     Not caring if they are cool (but caring)

30.      

31.      

32.     Things they get pissed off on.

33.     If you don’t validate their knowledge

34.     Making fun in anyway way

35.      

36.      

37.     The kardashians of education.

38.     Look at all this intelligence just look at it.

39.      

40.      

41.     Reformed

42.     Married a wife who dragged him away from his home base of friends

43.      

44.     Double down

45.     Always ready to quiz you on arbitrary topics

46.     Like doughnuts

47.      

48.     Dabbling

49.     Until you hit a point of their area of expertise

50.      

51.     Professor

52.     Debates and bows out when they loose

  (The only thing we have in common is our insane parents. He doesn’t like religion I love it)