#in like one day and a half too.. record breaking stuff

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[waluijoe]

inviting myself over to my sisters flat then eating half of her food then being annoying together w her roommates then cleaning their entire flat then helping her reorganize her room then cleaning up her kitchen then shaving part of her hair then watching a gay mafia movie w everyone then lending her my cool gay books i just got from the public library then stealing a croptop then cleaning all of their stairs then going home. good stuff

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. Valentine's day special. Sukuna gets your daughter to help him out on your first Valentine's Day together

cw: none really, maybe too much fluff?

"Alright, sweetheart, you got this?"

Your daughter nods her head, her determination so reminiscent of you that Sukuna falls a little harder in love.

"When I say, princess, you're going to...."

"Come to the livin' room with the box," your daughter recites faithfully and Sukuna nods.

"And you know what you're going to say to mommy?"

Bug nods again and he's kissing her cheek in adoration when he hears an annoying groan.

"Oh my god, how much longer is this going to take," Yuuji complains while he holds up one end of a long string of twinkly lights, one of his uninvited friends holding the other end.

"I can't believe getting pussy has turned you into this," Fugisaki says from where she is arranging some flowers on the coffee table, shaking her head as if she knows a fucking thing.

"It is a lot."

He says less, but somehow Fushiguro's condemnation of his behavior pisses him off the most. Sukuna picks up his daughter while he walks over to where his little brother is on a ladder.

"If you mother fuckers don't stop cursing around my kid, I'm going to knock you on your fucking asses."

Yuuji looks down at him, unconcerned. "Dude, you just cursed like a million times."

Sukuna kicks over the ladder and Yuuji falls, bringing down the lights him and Fushiguro had been hanging for the past half hour.

The other boy looks over at them, green eyes furious. "For fuck's sake-"

"Oy, what did I say about swearing in front of my fucking kid?"

"I can't believe you're about to get a woman to marry you," Fugisaki says, standing up and tilting her head to look over the decor that wasn't just ripped from the walls.

"I will call Zenin and tell her that you cried while stalking her instagram when she had that away tournament when you were on a break."

Her head snaps up and she narrows her eyes at him. "You wouldn't."

"I recorded a video," Sukuna says, pulling out his phone while Bug giggles on his hip,

"If you do that, I'll tell your girlfriend that you wrecked her apartment so she'd have no choice but to move in with you," she tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sukuna turns to glare at Yuuji. "Snitch!"

"Don't do sketchy ass shit and I won't have things to snitch on," Yuuji says, rubbing his back which had landed right on the floor.

Sukuna and Kugisaki stare at one another until he puts the phone away and she looks smug.

"Finish decorating and then get the fuck out of my apartment."

"Fuck!"

Everyone turns to look at the little girl who had just said her first swear word. Fushiguro is pressing his fingers to his temple like he's the one who's going to get in trouble for this. Yuuji and Kugisaki look delighted.

"You're so fucked, dude," the brat tells him and Sukuna sighs.

"Let's go practice in the other room, sweetheart," Sukuna says to his now fouled mouth daughter. "We'll let the help finish up over here."

Sukuna ignores three separate cries of "Hey!" and hopes that your daughter drops her newly acquired vocab before you come home.

"Alright, when I say princess...."

---------

When you walk in and see the apartment, you look excited if a little suspicious.

"What's all this? I thought you said Valentine's Day was a corporate conspiracy to take money from losers who should have been weeded out from natural selection."

"This isn't about Valentine's Day," Sukuna tells you and you hum as you take off your jacket and put your stuff by the door.

"Okay, just a coincidence then?"

"Sort of," Sukuna concedes and then pulls you towards him, your eyes looking around at the twinkle lights that have been placed all around your living room. There's flowers on the table, not roses because he wasn't corny, he'd gotten a mix of your favorites and you look pleased in that way you did whenever he did something that showed he paid attention to you.

"So what's the special occasion?"

The long answer was, it was in part because of Valentine's Day, but it was something he'd known was coming since the day he'd met you.

Bug had written many cards in the week leading up to Valentine's Day, everyone in your lives had gotten one. Sukuna had been proud to have received more than anyone, aside from you. Uncle Yuuji had pouted he'd only gotten two until Kugisaki had punched him, saying she'd only gotten one and she'd had to share it with her girlfriend.

The card that had started this whole chain of events had looked like any other. A heart clearly cut out by an adult, colored varying shades of red and green, Bug's favorite colors at the moment. On the inside, it had said, Happy Valentine's Day Daddy!

Happy Valentine's Day Daddy.

The words had been written by an adult, but Sukuna wondered what had happened to get them there. Had the teachers made the same card for everyone, which seemed rather obtuse even to him, or had Bug requested a card for him. For her dad.

Bug still called him 'Kuna, and he didn't mind. She was young and you had only been together for a little over a month. He didn't expect things to change overnight and considering the little girl had already lost one father, he could understand if she was hesitant to use the title again.

But it was there, in writing, and Sukuna just couldn't wait anymore for it to be true.

He had been so pleased that the two of you were officially together that he hadn't pushed for more. He had thrown around words like forever and wife, more than once and you seemed receptive but those words had stayed mostly in the bedroom.

The two of you were even trying for a baby, although that was another thing that remained mostly behind closed doors. Sukuna hadn't given this part of his plan much thought, but he had assumed that once you were pregnant, it would be a quick matter to convince you to marry him and put his ring on you so you could never escape him with a child and the law to bond you two together.

Getting you knocked up could take months though, even giving it as much effort as he was every night and he didn't want to wait anymore. He wanted to call you his wife and Bug his daughter. He wanted to call you his in front of the few people he didn't actively hate and he wanted to know that when he woke up, you would be there too.

So here he was, in the apartment you both shared, holding your hands in his, seeing what they looked like without his ring for hopefully the last time.

"Sukuna?"

"I'm getting there, be patient," he told you leaning in to kiss you. You responded eagerly and you leaned up so he had easier access to your mouth. Keeping in mind the little girl definitely listening in, he pulled back. He took a second to appreciate the way your eyes were almost hazy with desire and the way your lips look freshly kissed.

"I need to be the impatient one tonight," he says and he gives you one last kiss just to savor you. "I can't wait any longer, princess."

There's a quick pause and you look a little confused, mostly curious, when the door to your daughter's room opens and your little girl steps out. She's dressed in a beautiful white dress. She'd picked it out when Sukuna had taken her shopping the day before and she had a crown of flowers on top of her head, courtesy of Kugisaki who Sukuna maybe hated a little less right now.

You smiled at your daughter and held out your arms for her to come to you and she did, holding her dress up as she ran to you.

"You look like a princess, my love."

"Imma princess, just like you," she says and you look at Sukuna fondly.

"Guess that's why we got such a charming prince with us, right?" You tease and Sukuna doesn't care how corny it is, this moment is just for your little family anyway.

"We got something to ask you," Sukuna says and he nods at Bug, who opens up a sparkly purse.

"You do?" You ask and he sees realization start to sink in. "Sukuna-"

Bug pulls out the box and holds it out to you. "Mommy, can 'Kuna be my daddy now?"

You look at the box and then look at Sukuna.

"Is this-?"

"Open it and see," Sukuna tells you and he reaches over to grab your daughter who giggles and he holds her tighter as she looks over at you.

You open the box and in it sits a ring. Sukuna had bought it before the two of you even started dating. He had seen it in the window of a shop and just known it would look beautiful on you. You bite your lip and your eyes begin to well up with tears.

"So? What do you say, princess? Marry me?"

You're crying now and he sees Bug start to get a little worried before you're smiling and leaning over to kiss Sukuna, your hands holding his face to yours. He grins against your mouth and uses his free arm to pull you closer, his whole world in his arms now.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Yay!" Bug cheers and you both kiss her face as she giggles and pushes against you.

You let Sukuna pull the ring from the box and put it on your finger, where it will stay forever if he has anything to say about it. You look at him in confusion when he holds his own hand out.

"There's another ring in that box for a reason," he teases and you look at him in confusion.

"Isn't this a ring for after you're married?"

"Well there aren't a lot of pretty engagement rings for men, but if you get to walk around showing everyone you're mine until we tie the knot, I want everyone to see I'm yours."

You start crying all over again and you put the golden band on Sukuna's finger and he can't help the pride he feels at the sight of it. The knowledge that everyone will look at it and know he belongs to you.

"We don't need to rush the wedding, it can be up to you," he tells you. "I'll marry you in the summer or the fall, or we can go to City Hall tomorrow and take the kid to honeymoon at Disney for all I care. I just want to be married to you."

You smile and then you look up at him shyly. 'Well we probably shouldn't wait too long."

He raises an eyebrow and then you put your hand on your stomach.

"We should probably do it before I start to show, don't you think?"

That's the end! Are you actually pregnant or are you just being cautious, who knows! Hope you enjoyed, I wrote like 2,000 words, deleted all of it after I wrote the scene at the beginning of this one. Is that me learning how to edit?

Appreciate all of your support always and hope you know you are loved and amazing today!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Wally West

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: i was debating whether or not y/n is on the team or not n for this im going for y/n being a regular civilian but now im debating making dating hcs for a hero too 🤭

prompt: anonymous: “But if you're still taking requests (and speaking of fast haha), I would absolutely love if you could do a lil' something about Wally West ♡. I love that track star to bits and we're entering my favorite season ever : spooky season (or autumn for people who aren't chronically online like me). So if you'd be tempted to write some fluff/domestic stuff in autumn with Wally, I would be over the moon! 🦊”

wally is so annoying (in the best way!!)

you aren’t too used to the whole idea of dating a metahuman, every day is like an adventure

and for a speedster? you’d be surprised how hard it is for him to find the time

but he makes time

*doorbell rings*

“you’re twenty minutes late” -you

“in flash-time that’s early” -wally, holding a half-eaten box of chocolates “i got a little hungry”

on his “days off,” you could usually find the two of you on the couch with a variety of snacks scattered across the coffee table and crumbs peppering the cushions and floor

“the dog will get them” -wally

“hate to break it to you, but i don’t have a dog” -you

“should i get you a dog?” -wally

he was always so goofy

and affectionate, very affectionate!

he loved to give you cheek and forehead kisses, so many so fast

“how many was that?” -you after noticing repeated pressure on your cheeks

“going on a hundred. i’m trying to beat my record!” -wally

it always ended up tickling and you’d laugh until you fell over

“wally!! wally, come on!!” -you

you’d always get bummed whenever he got called for a mission

especially because it always happened in the middle of something (dinner, a movie, study date, etc.)

then when he came home he’d be a wreck and then you’d be a wreck because you’d see him like that

then he’d have to calm you down and you’d have to help him feel better

“you dont have to do that, im fine! i swear!” -wally while you panic and try to take care of him

being invited to the cave!

meeting the team!

“just because youre meeting a half-kryptonian clone, a martian, an atlantean, some girl with a bow and arrow, and batman’s sidekick doesn’t mean you get to think any of them are cooler than me, kapeesh?” -wally

“oh yes, i know you’re the coolest” -you

the team loves you!!!

“wow, wally, thanks for proving your s/o isn’t imaginary” -artemis

“youre welcome” -wally

“do you want to come bake with me?!” -m’gaan

“please say yes, y/n. i’m so hungry. so so hungry” -wally

“let’s do it!” -you

starting to camp out at the cave while wally is on missions

also once some more dangerous people figured out wally’s identity, you got your own access code to the cave. EMERGENCIES ONLY

you used it to surprise wally once and got a stern talking to from batman. never again

you dont really spend too much time with the team, but you get invited to most of their friendly outings!

and you talk up a storm with the others trying to learn about their lives, which sometimes makes wally a liiiittle jealous

but you want to live vicariously through these interesting people bc ur life is a liiiittle boring

“can you tell me what atlantis is like? what it feels like to be underwater and how your fighting style differs on land?” “what’s your favorite dish to make on mars? do you like communicating this way or the telepathic way more?” “why do you always wear sunglasses, man?” (you know this one dick is like wally’s bestie) -all you

seeing wally less than usual when things start to heat up in his hero life :(

causes some strain and you get so so sad :(

but he always calls you when he can and tries to make up for it

and somewhere down the road when he retires you’re able to spend all your time with him and he makes up for lost time like he promised

ok i’ll stop there. happily ever after.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ravenstrueluv // @cicatraize // @captainshazamerica // @bad4amficideas // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @jade-178 //

[notthecutesttrash]

Mascara and Tears

Content: You’ve escaped him before, and this time you’ve made a life for yourself. You decide one day to go out with another man and risk him finding you.

Warnings: 18+ Dark bloodlust Gojo, kidnapping, death, blood, implied noncon, yandere stuff you know.

Word Count: 2.5k

It’s been months after the first escape attempt. 

Gojo had been on a mission and left his door barely locked, it was enough for you to devise a plan to make a run for it. 

You were caught in half an hour. 

It’s been weeks after your second. 

You managed to drug him when he least expected it, leaving you to escape as quietly as possible. 

This time, you left no trace. This time, you’d be happy.

You’ve studied him well enough to know that he was capable of finding you. But he hasn’t, so you know you’ve done a good job. Still, you find yourself terrified even in the cold nights. Occasionally you’re overcome by fear and restlessness as paranoia surges through your mind. 

You’re angrily pressing your fingers into dough before your coworker Andy pats your back and saves you from the contemplation. “Treat the dough with a little respect (Y/n), it’s your friend, not an enemy,” he jokes and you force a small chuckle. 

“Sorry, just got too into it.” 

He laughs in response and begins to knead at one of his pieces. “I get it, sometimes it’s fun to play with and throw around. You can make some pizzas, bread, or sweets. You can do anything with dough, and that’s the beauty." He’s nearly beaming at you, and you're stifling a chortle, breaking out with a “nerd.” 

“Hey!” He points accusingly and you snicker. 

When a comfy silence erupts and you’re both drawn into your work, after a few minutes, Andy clears his throat. “So, (Y/n).”

You turn to him, and there’s a small blush on his cheeks. Your heart drops a little, and you’re begging silently. Please don’t say it.

“Do you maybe want to get drinks after this shift?” 

He said it. 

Inwardly sighing, you squint your eyes as if lost in thought and he stammers. “I mean, I know you always have a busy schedule, but I just thought- I don’t know, it’d be nice to get your mind away from things for a change. You always look so tense.” 

No matter how many times he or your other coworkers would ask, you were always busy. One day your sister had to be picked up, you had to run to the hospital, or your dog needed walking. Meanwhile, in reality, you’d sit at home and cradle yourself in fear. Sure that the one moment you're caught off guard, you'd find Gojo sitting quietly in your room with the lights off, ready to take you just like the last time.

Humming in response, you agree, you are always tense. 

Maybe just one day of going out would do you good. He wasn’t bound to find you just from a chat at the bar right? There’s only so much sitting and moping around in lonely shivers that you can partake in.

Besides, if you’re actually free now, you can finally have friends. People to make you happy, to have conversations with, and to freely walk around with wherever you want. Rather than just being kept in a locked room that was no bigger than a dozen feet across. 

Maybe if he finds you again, you’d at least be happy with just having this bit of freedom. 

Shaking yourself out of the thoughts, your brows knit together angrily. You’re not going to let that happen. 

Turning to Andy, you give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, that’d be fine.” He gasps and practically bounces in the joy that he attempts to so poorly conceal. 

He works with the dough a little less focused now as the grin stays glued to his face. “Awesome, so there’s this place around town that just opened up, heard it’s fancy though, don’t know if you want to go there.” 

You shrug. Truthfully because you never went anywhere or did anything you had a bit of spare money saved up. You didn’t mind splurging for today.

But what if Gojo finds your records? What if somehow has your bank account information? Or finds you had gone there with another man? 

“(Y/n)?” Andy calls out when you don’t answer.

“No no,  I don’t mind, sounds great. But don’t know if we’re really well equipped for that after work.” Gesturing to your clothes filled with baking powder, Andy glances to his own and shares a laugh. 

“You’re right.” A blush scatters to his face again and you’re exhaling a small sigh. 

“I guess I can pick you up after..?” He trails off expectantly, his hand brushing against his neck as he timidly averts away. If only Gojo hadn’t ever been involved, then you’d think about having a possible romance.

“Sure.” 

You press your hands into the substance for what feels like hours until your wrist feels like it’s going to fall off. And when you go home, you’re holding your breath, a stammering in your chest as you walk through the door. Your first instinct is to always immediately click the lights and when you'd notice nothing, you'll slump in great relief. 

You refuse to allow the thoughts of this kidnapper to ruin your day out. You’re free now, that’s all there is to it, and you dress yourself up real pretty to prove that. Even having the liberty to apply makeup which you’ve never done for Gojo. 

Not even if he tortured you and rubbed the bottom of your lip, declaring just how pretty you’d be if they were stained red just for him to ruin. Even if he forced you on your knees and implied just how much he’d love it if he could see the mascara rolling down your cheeks while you cried. 

This time, you were going to be beautiful to no one else's enjoyment but yourself.

Andy had been patiently waiting and when you stepped out his heart sped into his throat. You smile at him and his skin burns red. 

“Now I almost feel a little underdressed,” he mumbles awkwardly glancing down at his attire. 

“Don’t worry, you look fine. Anything’s better than the baking powder.” Sharing a giggle, you two begin walking, the clack of your heels echoing against the sidewalk.

Andy is continuously glimpsing to you, then at the ground. His bottom lip draws into his mouth. “You look.. amazing by the way,” he finally breaks the silence, and you turn to him, gleaming.  

“Thanks.”

He gazes at you too long, gawking in amazement, and you lightly poke him out of the concentration. “Relax, I’m not that good-looking.” You joke, and he instantly shakes his head. 

“That’s not true (Y/n), seriously, you are.. you’re beautiful.” 

It's been awhile since you had a genuine compliment that wasn't so creepy sounding.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the twinkling in his orbs. But this time you’re flattered and a light pink forms.

“Thanks.. I don’t typically get pretty for events or anything… I don’t really go out in general.” 

“Why not?” He’s quick to ask, brows knitting in worry. 

You cuss beneath your breath. Too much oversharing. Not talking to a person in a while will do that to you.

“Nothing- I just don’t like to. More of an.. inside person I guess.” Your eyes avoid his peering and he breaks out into a small smile. 

“I get it, my sis is like that, introvert right?”

You nod. That wasn’t remotely the reason, but you'll let him think that.

“I’m a bit of both, you know, I like talking but not too much. Sometimes it can be draining, sometimes it can be-“

“This isn’t going to be like your rambles about dough is it?” You cut him off jokingly and he shyly averts. 

“No no- sorry.. I have a tendency to talk too much.” Andy grazes his arm awkwardly, and you feel him distance himself a little. Perhaps that was a bit mean. 

You try to ease the heaviness in the atmosphere. “I like hearing your rambling. I was just being sarcastic, don't worry. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to joke like that,” you admit, and you notice him visibly relax. 

“That’s okay.” He beams and you mimic the expression.

When you reach the bar you’re in a nice little section by yourselves, and you’re surrounded by comfortable lighting, modern decorations, leather brown chairs, and relaxed people doing their own things.

It was amazing. 

“You act like you haven’t seen people in years,” Andy chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink. 

An evident frown shifts your expresion and he notices. His hand carefully touches your wrist and you shift to him.

“Sorry, did I offend?” 

Shaking your head, you force a small smile and declare an excuse. Whether it be along the lines of “just tired,” “lost in thought,” or anything else, it was all the same. The truth was too horrid even for you to bear. Seriously, how unlucky did you have to be for that?

There was only so much you could do for yourself. You’re ecstatic you managed to escape. You have a life now. You can see all these people, revel in the laughter, maybe even fall in love and have children. Though, maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself.

You made sure not to get drunk. When you walked home that was always the scariest part of the day. Whether it be at night, or in the morning, it didn’t make too much of a difference. A dangerous fear you have is walking pass a certain tall figure with white hair.

Though he’d more likely take the scarier approach. Stealthy. Watching you from the shadows and contemplating when he’d take you. You wondered many times if this was the case already. Perhaps he is just toying with your freedom. 

Repeatedly you force away from the anxieties. You can’t think so negatively. You have a life now. It’s already been a few weeks. You bested him whether he liked it or not. You won. 

Andy fortunately isn’t too drunk either, maybe a bit tipsy, but nothing unsafe. Man or not, having another person beside you made you feel comfortable. Even if Gojo was watching, he or any rational person isn’t likely to just snatch a person when they’re with another. It’s just too suspicious. No one can risk that. 

“Are you okay? You look scared,” Andy asks, and you fake a tug at your lips, a pouring discomfort in you. 

“I’m okay, it’s just the night can be a little creepy you know." You quickly reason.

Andy purses his lips, pondering a moment before draping his arm over your shoulder. Surprise rushes to you, a swarm of butterflies swooning at the gesture. He was warm, and his grip unlike Gojo’s was gentle. It was like you’d break if he held you any harder. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” He speaks with a determined but sweet tone and you giggle, leaning into his touch. 

“How sweet.” A mocking voice behind your form makes you stop dead in your tracks, eyes going wide. 

“(Y/n)?” Andy turns when you aren’t keeping up with him, and you’re frozen, still as a plank of wood. His eyes blink up at the cause, surely meeting your worst nightmare. 

You're terrified, but instinctively you whirl around, tears brewing in your eyes as you shout, “Don’t hurt him!” 

Gojo’s blue orbs are shining down at you, and he’s smiling wide.

“Oh?” He muses, raising his brow as he walks over to you. Every step he made caused you to flinch in place, and your hands were shaking as he rounded closer.

Suddenly his lips press to your ears and he whispers, “Should’ve thought about that before you ran off and made new friends.” 

Instinctively, Andy rushes to shove him away and Gojo holds out his hand, forcing him to stop in place. He grins, and you step back, fixating on those eyes you dreaded so much. “Don’t..” you plead.

Snickering, he strolls to Andy whose almost frozen, and he casually observes his features with a dark gaze. “Hm, I at least expected you to pursue someone better.” 

You open your mouth to speak, and blood splatters over you, gushing atop your pretty makeup. Your throat is unable to let out a blaring scream, instead your shaky hands move to your vision. Red. Red liquid splotched against your fingers, staining your skin. 

Gojo lets out a tired exhale, and he starts caressing your hair in the way you hate so much. The way he’d pet you without an ounce of care once he'd finish giving you a punishment or would cause you to heave out with sobs.

He's scanning you for a second until he moves and you instinctively shift back. Repeating, you step and something big crunches beneath your heel, causing you to fall back.

Finally, the scream escapes, and you’re rushing to crawl away from the horror. Blood is decorating the ground, the walls, the trash that lays around, everything, anywhere but on him. Gojo is sauntering, and there's a grin spreading his features wide.

Your desperate movement leads to no avail when your back hits a wall and Gojo eventually crouches down to you.

“Get away from me!” You shout as Gojo tugs your hair forcefully back.

His blue orbs glower at you. “Huh?” His grip tightens, and you whine from the pain searing in your scalp. “What was that?” He tugs harder and you scream.

Tears start to cascade, and you plead desperately. “Please d-don’t take me back.” The force pulling your locks lessens, and he stoically observes the scene.

You’re hiccuping through your sobs as you keep going, “P-Please… I don’t want to go back, I’ll do a-anything, p-please don’t take me there, please.” 

A grin finally breaks out as he speaks, “Now, where’s the fun in that?” He evilly snickers in a way that has you crying more. Even if you know pleading with him will do nothing, you’re desperate.

But it’ll only further amuse him.

“I don’t want t-to go." You’re whining pathetically, and he exhales a disappointed sigh as he ignores you to study the mascara falling in streams at your cheeks. 

“Man, what a waste,” he mutters to himself then presses a hand to his chin, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought.

“I’m surprised you even managed to avoid me for a whole month, I’m almost impressed.” His view is fixated on the sky as he continues. 

“Looks like the first punishment wasn’t enough. So hm, what am I going to do now?” He fakes a curiosity while a glimmer shines in his eyes. He knows, and so do you, and you’re sniveling through the choke in your throat at the thought. 

“I was gonna be all nice to you too. Even when you don’t deserve it,” he sighs. “I was gonna take you back home, have a sweet dinner date since it’s been so long, but.. since you decided to get all pretty for that guy there,” he motions to the corpse behind him, then zones in on you.

“I’ll have a bit of fun with you first.” 

You’re exploding into a fit of panicked tears, desperate begs falling from your lips. “P-Please don’t do this.” 

“Aw,” He mockingly coos, wiping a few tears from your eyes. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” 

·:*:· ★ ·:*:· ·:*:· ★ ·:*:·　 

A quick sketch for my girls out there.

[noceurous]

lights, camera, action

your boyfriend gets his hands on a handycam, later on you

warnings: mentions of divorce, mentions infidelity, Dave’s family is also mentioned, some self-doubt and angst, looots of feelings (sorry idk what took over me ehehe), swearing, smut: fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, slapping, daddy kink, usage of various nicknames (baby, darling, etc) minors dni (18+) reader is able bodied + has some length of hair + afab.

a/n: my birthday is officially on 10th of september, but this fic turned out to be longer than i expected, so i said post it with a fic you feel good.

a/n2: this fic takes place in the same universe with [take the heat away, make the girl stay] but they can be read separately.

Carol was a really nice woman after the divorce.

It was nice of her to call you a homewrecker, among many other names.

It was nice of her to fill Molly and Alice’s heads with wrong ideas about you.

It was nice of her to call Dave in the middle of your date and tell him that he’ll come back crawling back to her after he’s done with you. just like the girls before and made sure you heard it.

Lastly, it was nice for Carol to send all of his belongings to your tiny apartment. You didn’t even know how she got your address. Just after a simple ring of the doorbell, you were standing between piles of light brown boxes.

“Shit, did she really do that too?” Dave asked over the phone as you stood inside the labyrinth made of boxes.

“Yep, what’s left of your relationship is now inside my living room.” You said as you eyed over the boxes. Trying to find out if your relationship was enough to fill one box.

“They’re mostly clothes, family photos and Father’s Day gifts. There is nothing left of the relationship.” You were familiar with the last sentence. Dave used that to reassure you during the beginning of your relationship. 

He also used that sentence to girls, and Carol. When any one of them accused you of breaking them up.

“Yeah, probably. I’m gonna take a shower. When will you be back?”

“Fifteen minutes tops. Do you want anything?”

“No, just you.” His chest hurt when he heard how your voice cracked before you ended the phone call.

He hated Carol when she did that. Blaming you for everything went wrong in the marriage. Taking her anger out on you, when in truth you came into him long after he decided on a divorce.

—

“Darling? I’m home.” He didn’t hear your reply, but the water sound came from the bathroom.

He took off his long coat, his keys still in his hand when he walked towards the living room. Greeted with a pile of boxes. He couldn’t imagine how you felt when a box after a box came into your place. He would call Carol again, but he knew pretty well whatever he said to stop her, just would fuel Carol’s anger.

He raised his key, slashing and opening one right through the tape with it.

Fake plastic trophy of being the Best Dad Ever, broken hand painted coffee mugs, a photograph in a frame from Alice’s first soccer game. 

He went through some of the boxes more. As he assumed they were mostly clothes and stuff related to girls. Mainly photo albums which were half empty since Carol only sent him photos he was included. Nothing more.

When he was going over his last box, something silver at the corner of the box caught his eye. When he took it out, he was greeted with an old handycam.

“No way.” He smiled as he took it out. Shocked when he found out it was still charged.

He heard your footsteps when you came towards him, wrapped a towel around your body and another one around your head.

“What is that?” You walked towards him, the scent of your shower gel filling his nostrils.

Orchids.

“That’s my old handy-cam. Got stuck between stuff, still works.”

He explained as he checked if there were any pre saved videos. He remembered using it for Alice’s school plays and Molly’s soccer practice. Half remembering that he already saved them to Carol’s computer.

He pressed on the record button, when he saw the red blinking light he raised the camera to you.

“What are you doing!” You chuckled, covering your face.

“Recording my lovely girlfriend.”

“I’m in a towel.” He shrugged, still keeping the camera on you.

“That’s better.” He said as he zoomed on your legs, slowly lifting the camera to your body. “Don’t be shy. Camera loves you.”

“Is it the camera? Or is it my horny boyfriend?”

“Both. Give me something baby, come on.” You rolled your eyes, blew a kiss and winked at the camera.

“That’s better.” He said as he placed his hand on your towel, raising an eyebrow.

Before you could understand his next move, he tugged the towel down, watching it pool around your ankles.

“Dave!” You protested, hands covering your breasts.

“Don’t be shy honey. This is just for me. Show it to me.” You huffed, placing your hands at your waist. Sticking out your chest more as he pointed the camera at your breasts, recording every inch for you.

He licked his lips at your sight. “I’m a lucky bastard aren’t I?”

“Try the luckiest.”

He chuckled, motioning you to the couch. “Take a seat.” You rolled your eyes, swinging your ass as you walked towards the couch. You knew he was zooming in there.

He whistled, “That’s my girl” as he followed you. Sitting further from you on the coffee table. “Open your legs for me, come on.” The sight of your glistening pussy was on camera, Dave’s hand was slightly shook, blurring the view for a second. He tried to play it like he was affected less from the sight of you than he actually was. 

“Hmm, you’re wet baby.” You smirked at the camera, slowly nodding. “Who made you this wet?”

“You did.” You pressed your fingers on your lips, spreading them to show him your swollen clit covered in your silk. “See? It’s all for you.”

He felt his pants tighten, he didn’t even find the time to take off his tie since he got back. Now you were standing all naked for him, showing off your perfect body. And he had too much clothes on to feel you on his skin.

“Be a good girl, play with yourself for me. But don’t cum.” He said as he slowly placed the camera on the coffee table. Angling it to the perfect angle.

Your eyes were looking into his eyes, as he clicked his tongue pointing at the camera. “Eyes on the camera baby.” You swallowed down your whimper. Thumb pressed onto your clit, feeling your walls clench around nothing.

You pushed a finger inside you, moaning at your wetness. You closed your eyes, for a second, your other hand was on the cushion, grasping it tightly.

You started moving your finger, in and out, playing with your clit then back in. “Open your eyes.” You opened them, seeing Dave in front of you, behind the camera.

He was naked, his cock in his hand, slowly pumping himself. You could tell he was rock hard, it was painful for him not to touch you. “See what you’re doing to me?” You gulped, nodding quickly.

“Add another finger.” You did as he said, your toes curled, walls clenching around your fingers. You didn’t have to look down to know your juices were dripping down on your couch, making a mess.

You continued to finger yourself slowly, eyes locked on the red light on the camera. You could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, trying to hold it as long as possible.

Your whimpers filled his ears, his eyes locked at the way your naked chest came up and down. Each second it became harder for him to not feel you on his skin. You were a sight for his sore eyes, all he carved for his life.

“Show me.” He said as he knelt between your legs. You took your fingers out of your pussy, the wet sound of it crying made both of you moan.

Your fingers were glistening with your juices, you took them inside your mouth, sucking off your juices.

His warm breath fanning your weeping pussy. He quickly hooked your legs on his shoulders. Diving into your pussy, drinking your juices right from your core. 

Your body trembled as his warm tongue touched you. Drawing long strokes with the tip of his tongue. “Oh Fuck!” You said as your hand went back to cushion. Supporting yourself as Dave continued to lick over your folds aggressively. 

He raised his face, his lips and chin covered with your juices. The corner of his lips raised into a smirk. “You taste so good.” He said before he dove back in. Sucking down your clit.

You smirked at the camera, hand going to your breast. “Fuck! Dave! You are so good!” You pinched down your swollen nipple. Pulling him closer to your core by pressing your ankles on his back.

He pushed a finger inside you, eyes pointed up to your blissed face. You were looking right at the camera just like he told you. His pretty girl always followed his orders without making him give them twice.

“Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” You were chanting out as he was brutally fucking you with his finger. His lips on your thigh, kissing along the soft flesh, pressing his teeth on your inner thigh.

He pushed another finger inside. “Are you going to cum?” You looked down at him, eagerly nodding.

“May I? Please daddy, I’ve been so close.” He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Earning a loud moan from you. “Please.”

Who was he to deny you from pleasure?

“Cum for me.” He said as he sucked your clit once more, fingers still moving inside you. Your body shook when he brushed along your sweet spot. Pads of his fingers pressing on it just right. “Fu—“ Your body jolted backwards, your mind went blank as the white pleasure surrounded your body.

You were panting heavily, as he got up between your legs slowly, his hand wrapped around his cock. Fingers shining with your juices. Your mouth watered with the sight. You wanted him. You wanted more.

With the dark look in his eyes, you knew he wanted the same. “Get on the floor. On your hands and knees.”

You got in the position like he asked, shaking your ass a little when you got on your knees. He slapped you harshly causing you to fall on your hands. Your lips parted, showing him one of his favorite views; your ass in the air, your hole greedily waiting for him.

He pressed his tip on your entrance, “Look at the camera, don’t close your eyes, or I’ll stop.” You knew this was more of a statement than a threat. Before you could say something he gradually pushed himself inside of you, letting go of his breath when he reached your limit. His cock twitched inside you when your walls welcomed him inside.

“Oh.” You moaned at feeling full, still sore from his fingers. Your pussy greedily accepting him, already addict to the sweet pain.

He could see your glossy, lustful gaze thanks to the camera. Cursing himself for not thinking this sooner. Not thinking of saving these moments of you. Not starting saving anything he could save from you.

He placed his hands on your waist. Getting his momentum as his hips started slapping against your ass, not wasting any time with being gentle. Today was not one of his gentle, love making days. He needed you. He needed to take what was his.

He was not having a great time at work. Now he also had to handle Carol and stop her from attacking you.

He had to protect you and he had no objection to that. If it was allowed, he would tear up the limbs of anyone who dared to hurt you. It does not have to be physical abusive, just a simple word was enough to get him violent. There was nothing in this world that would stop him to protect you.

You were his purpose in life, his guiding light.

“Please.”

Your crying voice turned him back to reality, his eyes snapped back to the camera from your shaking ass. Your eyes teared from pleasure, thin layer of sweat covering your cheeks.

“Yes?”

“Please cum inside me. I missed feeling your cum inside. I’ve been empty for days.”

He had some stuff to take care of in Denmark. Unfortunately his little business trip took longer than he expected. So all you were able to do were some quick calls and exchanging text messages. Whispers of “I miss you” were exchanged as you bit your tongue not to say “I love you” too soon.

“Baby…” He said, getting faster than before, chasing his pleasure. You moaned, when he pushed in a bit too hard. Your hand stopped you from falling forward. Forehead almost hit the coffee table.

He cursed his ignorance, wrapping his arm around your neck, leaning over figure. He pressed his lips on your sweet spot behind your ear, feeling your body tremble between his arms. He nudged your temple with the tip of his nose, taking in your smell.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, eyes locked with yours on the screen.

“You look so good, baby. I feel how you tighten around me, you want to cum again don’t you?”

“Yes, please.”

“You want me to make you?”

“Ye—yes...” His hand went to your clit from your waist, flicking it rapidly. “F—fuck! D—dave!”

“Go on, come all over my cock baby! Fuck you’re milking me so good.” He slapped your ass, grabbing a handful of the soft flesh before whispering to the shell of your ear. “You want me to cum inside don’t you? Fill you right to the brim?”

He groaned at how your walls tighten around him with your question. “Yes! Fuck yes! Please fill me up. I’ll do anything, please.” He sucked a bruise your neck, his hot breath from his nose fanning on your throat.

“If you really want to…” He said as he spurted out his cum inside you, pressing down on your swollen clit. Holding your body with his arm still wrapped around your neck as it trembled with your orgasm.

“Dave!” Your voice shook as you tried to keep yourself up. Feeling his hot cum spill inside you. He turned your head to the side, smashing his lips to yours. You moaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. Your salty taste on his tongue as he sucked yours.

Taking everything you offered to him.

He slowly took himself out, some of his cum spilled out from your hole. He tsked, gathering them with his fingers and pushing them back in. You hissed with the contact, looking over your shoulder to him.

“I’ll send someone tomorrow, to take care of the boxes. I don’t want you to worry about them.” You nodded, as he lied down next to you. Pulling your naked body to lie on his naked chest. You buried your head on his chest, kissing right above where his heart his.

You took the camera from the table, stopping the recording. You smiled at the video, thinking how better you looked than you guessed.

“Like a true temptress.” Dave said, as he buried his nose in your hair, his fingers drawing circles on your upper arm.

“Can I keep a copy as well?”

“Anything you want darling.” He said as he kissed you, slowly moving you to his lap between kisses. “Anything for you.”

—

The next morning Dave’s men came to collect the boxes. And Carol had an anonymous email in her inbox with no subject.

It was a small photo where Dave was eating you out. When she scrolled down, she saw your text added underneath.

Mine, back off.

Needless to say, the email disappeared a few minutes later it was read, without leaving any trace.

—

please provide comments/reblogs if you liked this fic. they always mean a lot 💙

[beemo-clippin]

A compilation of Etho reacting to his 2011 1k subscriber special.

Clipped from the 1 million sub special, "Etho Plays Minecraft - Episode 283: 1 Million!" (starting at 28:40)

Feedback:

This was my first time doing captioning so please do let me know if there’s anything that can be improved! Even if it’s style-wize bc I’m bad at that stuff.

And as always, let me know if I can improve my video descriptions or transcriptions :)

Video description and transcription below cut:

Video description:

Etho's first-person POV in his 2011 Minecraft Let's Play world. It is night and Etho is on a beach as he introduces the video as well as a celebratory tree sapling placed near the water. The video is a screen recording, and 2013 Etho commentates over it, but is unseen.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is nighttime and Etho places a torch on a path of dirt blocks, lighting the area. The dirt blocks connect to the top of the tree, now grown, with a mob trap on top (a pressure plate surrounded by 4 doors). Etho walks through the trap and down some dirt steps. He walks around the dim-lit beach as older Etho laughs at him.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is day now and Etho is on top of the tree, trying to lead a creeper into the mob trap. He breaks the door closest to the creeper, the creeper jumps and Etho backs away. The creeper explodes, bringing Etho to three and a half hearts, and destroying the top of the tree. As older Etho reacts in amusement, young Etho looks at the tree in shock, opens his inventory, drops a dirt block, and jumps down to the beach. A zombie floats in the water, and Etho tries to attack it with his sword, but is killed by the zombie.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is day and Etho stands on the beach looking at the tree. The leaves have been reconstructed with wool and the entire thing is on fire. Etho jumps around as he watches the wool burn away. A piece of TNT is revealed in the center of the tree, and when lit by the fire, it explodes in a flurry of white and black particles, taking a chunk of the beach with it. Etho walks over and looks down at the destruction as older Etho pauses the video in amusement.

———

Transcription:

Young Etho: Hello everyone. Etho here again with episode nine of our Let's Play minecraft adventures

Etho: Ah, the voice is so different

Young Etho: And uh, before we can do anything this episode... I noticed, I just passed one thousand subscribers on YouTube

Etho: Oh, don't rub your nose

Young Etho: A thousand!

Etho: Woww

Young Etho: I'm blown away

Etho: Me too!

Young Etho: Over a thousand people willingly choose to watch me do crazy, stupid stuff in this game

Etho: *chuckles*

Young Etho: And I think that is just awesome

Etho: I don't know how you did it

Young Etho: So thanks to everybody who's- who is subscribing. And uh, please continue watching. We'll have lots of fun together.

Etho: Mhmm

Young Etho: And, uh, to celebrate the event, I planted this tree

Etho: *laughs*

Young Etho: to commoderate [commemorate] it

Etho: Alright

Young Etho: And...

Etho: Here it comes

Young Etho: It's gonna be a great tree ^-^

Etho: *laughs loudly* Needed a long pause there for emphasis

———

Etho: Yes! And a torch, he placed a torch! *laughs* I love how it's pitch black and you can't see anything.

Young Etho: Okay. So this is where the guest of honor's gonna sit.

Etho: And you've got an inventory full of torches and you're not using them. *laughs*

Young Etho: I really wish we got a better tree out of this, but whatever

Etho: I wish we could see

———

Etho: *laughs loudly* Aww special ruined. I- I was so, so sad. I didn't know what to do. What do I do now?

I- I'm not talking at all. It's just like... I failed. I failed. *laughs*

———

Young Etho: Awesome!!!

Etho: *laughs* Having the time of my life here. And a piece of TNT goes off. *laughs* And that was my special

Young Etho: Party's over, time to clean up

Etho: Aww, so good. *laughs* So good. How things have changed!

———

[cheriladycl01]

Back in my Day - Fernando Alonso x AustralianOlympicBoxing! Reader

Plot: Becoming a full time paddock WAG after pregnancy and a bad boxing injury and how you wouldn’t change anything in your life!

“Do you ever miss it?” He asks as he joins you in the motor home after just going fastest in FP2. He starts to pull you into a little sweaty hug, which you don’t mind as your used to it with you both being athletes.

“Miss what?” You ask walking round cleaning up after your guys son and daughter who were currently out getting ice cream with the mechanics.

“The adrenaline of a fight, the way the gloves feel, the smell of the ring?” He asks with a distant look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, sometimes I wish I could go back just to see if I’ve still got it. But there’s more important things in my life now than boxing and … I’ve made my country proud. I want to focus on everything I missed out on when I was younger. I want to see the world with you and our kids and I want to be a present mum you know, not of fighting in a boxing ring every week” you sigh, squatting while looking up at him, half cleaning half giving him your attention.

A loud sigh comes from his as he sets himself on the sofa.

“Why what’s got you thinking about this” you ask, standing up and taking a seat next to him with a pat on his thigh.

“I just … sometimes I think back to the incident with you and how worried I was seeing you that injured. I mean … I thought you died in that ring and I know it can’t be easy to watch me in the car and I’m just thinking maybe … maybe it’s time I think about retiring?” He asks almost quietly like he’s afraid to admit what he truly had been thinking.

“Fernando it wouldn’t surprise me if your 60 and racing and scaring the living daylights out of me” you laugh looking over him.

“I’m being serious, I’ve seen how … attentive you are with the kids … and me and I think it’s time I want that life too. I’ve been playing a F1 playboy for far to long. I want to come home, wherever that is as long as I’m with you, you are my home” he smiles and tears fill your eyes.

“Fernando I love you” you kiss him.

“How do you deal with not having it in your life anymore?” He asks into your neck, making it come out a bit muffled.

“Well I have a lot of other stuff that I focus on. And I still do it, I teach it in a gym to kids and I do training in our gym so it’s not fully gone. And the feeling of winning and improving after a loss is something that is more nostalgic than anything. I don’t miss it necessarily, but it’s nice to look back on and think of what I did. Winning gold twice and silver once!” You smile, looking up in a thoughtful way.

“Hmmmmm that sounds, kind of peaceful” he offers and you laugh a little.

“Yeah I guess you could say it is. But Fernando, racing is a part of you, like boxing IS a part of me. It never really leaves you, no matter whether that’s because you continue until you physically can’t and break the record for oldest racing driver, or you own a karting track in Spain and train the next generation … or you become a manager for our son who no doubt will be a world champion with the way he looks up to you or even doing a Nico Rosberg and become a journalist… but baby, the world of F1 will never ever leave you” you assure your husband.

“You’ve made me even more confused on my deduction now” he sighs laughing and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Well whatever that decision is, I’ll be here for you” you smile.

“You know, I remember that one time, I think it was the 2012 Olympics in London, before the accident when you were so convinced you weren’t going to get gold and then you just all of a sudden had this ambition in your eyes … what was that” he asks.

“You, honesty. Your pep talk” you smile kissing his cheek.

“What do you think I should do?” He asks looking at you with the face of a lost puppy.

“That’s not a choice I can make for you my love” you smile at him patting his head leaving him to his thoughts while you go to find the kids.

Fernando stays with his own thoughts for a little before he saunters out to go find you.

As he rounds a corner he sees you messing about with the kids and Lance and it’s a sight to behold. One he can’t help but think he misses far to often.

But was he truly ready to give up his career.

“Papa” your daughter cries running over to her father the 6 year old not knowing much better than to rush off into the busy paddock lane to get to her father.

“Hello beautiful” he smiles as he picks her up, nuzzling her nose with his doing an Eskimo Kiss that they had done since she was just a baby.

Once his son came up to him, offering him an ice cream, that was starting to melt a little and starting to tell him how amazing he raced today his choice was clearer than ever.

Family came first.

y/user

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and astonmartinf1

y/user: Life Recently. Love my kids, guess the husband is okay 👍🏼

Tagged 1 Person

View all 341 comments

astonmartinf1: MOTHER 👏🏼

fan1: omg I want her life so bad

fernandoalo_oficial: my gorgeous wife! I will ignore the caption!

-> y/user: you know I joke 🥰

fan2: her and Fernando bantering makes my life

lancestroll: when will I get to see the kids again!

-> y/user: next race my first son 🤣🫶🏼

-> fan3: Y/N and Fernandos first child Lance Alonso

hater1: gold digger

-> y/user: more like gold medalist … 🥇

Instagram Story Caption:

Back at it mate 🫶🏼 🇦🇺

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[lovelyflora21]

I hate everyone else in the world (but you)

Summary: Drunk and in pain, Leon had an affinity for saying things he might not have meant to. Twice he did so. One was able to offer solace and comfort, the other the opposite. 

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: TW! Alcohol abuse, slight mentions of PTSD, depression. Angst. Hurt. 

A/n: Hello! So this is my first attempt at writing again after such a long ass hiatus and break! This is also my very first (and hopefully not the last) attempt on writing a fic for Leon lol, this one’s gonna be a bit angsty! I wrote this with Vendetta!Leon and DI!Leon in mind, inspired by that one TikTok audio from Euphoria’s Rue and Jules’ scene and her infamous quote with TV Girl’s Not Allowed, playing in the background. 

Hopefully you guys will like this one as much as I like writing it! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.5k

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

Was what Leon had drunkenly told her once. So lost in his drunken stupor that he’d blurted out those words in a brief moment of vulnerability and honesty. He might’ve as well said those three words instead. But it was the truth, and Leon S Kennedy was no liar. He was never good with lies anyways, why try now? And in response, she simply gave him that God-forsaken half smile of hers. Leon remembered vividly, despite being shit-faced drunk, how she simply shook her head then helped him off the couch to clean up. 

I know. She whispered, more like to herself than to him. Then everything else after that was a blur. 

It was sort of a routine. After that particular nightmare of a mission, Leon would drown himself in endless bottles of Jack Daniels or whatever alcoholic beverage he could lay his hands on. He was pretty much banned from the local bar he’d frequented so often, and no for the record, it wasn’t because he’d start up unnecessary shit–no. It was because of how much he’d drunk; to the point that the bartenders and keepers made it a point that they were concerned with the amount of alcohol he’d swallow in one seating. 

Concerned. Leon finds it rather funny and ironic, in a way that; bars made money from selling alcohol to anyone who would be drinking them and yet here he was, getting banned all because they were concerned with him? He was a regular, he didn’t mind burning his money on alcohol! They should have been grateful! He was a regular, a paying one at that and he doesn’t start up shit! They were making money! And yet, he got banned anyway. 

In reality, concerned was an understatement…

So he figured, what the hell right? He’s just gonna find an alternative, buy some from the local bodega or some shit and get shit-faced drunk in the comforts of his somber and dark, shitty apartment. 

The apartment was fine before all this, decorated it minimalistically so he didn’t have too much stuff piling up and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to look after; but after the–after it happened, he just didn’t care enough to look after the damn place. Hell, he barely looked after himself. Leon was barely even showering. He’d shower once every two or three days, and didn't even care at all if people were giving him weird and funny looks for how disheveled he looked. Leon used to be pretty active and social, he would go for a light jog every morning before work or in the evenings after work, then shower and have dinner or maybe go on dates with her. But now? Now, his routine consisted of waking up in the middle of the day, eat whatever leftover was in the fridge, go back to sleep, wake up again then get so drunk he could barely remember anything then pass out on the couch then wake up with the worst hangover and repeat the same damned thing all over again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. 

It wasn’t helping him at all that the DSO was putting him on a temporary break too. He’d honestly much prefer to be sitting on his desk working on reports than rotting and wasting away like this. 

But then she caught wind of this. This revelation. That the great, brave and strong Leon S Kennedy; the renowned agent that helped rescue the President’s Daughter and formed the DSO, has now become lessened to that of a drunk alcoholic. So jaded and bitter with the loss of his–no, no, he became jaded after, after…after it happened. That he resorted to alcohol rather than face his issues head on. Rather than see a shrink and work on it.

So the first time she came back around, it wasn’t easy. To have her, his muse, his flower, the only innocent and untouched being in his life, sees him this messed up and broken. He lashed out at her at first, then he broke down. For the first time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was finally able to cry. 

It’s okay, cry it out, let it all out. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go. I got you. 

Then he looked into her eyes and said it. 

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

And the rest was history.

Then it was another new routine for him. She was always there, looking after him…looking after the place. Made sure he was eating, made sure he’d get cleaned up, made sure he was sleeping properly. 

But he still couldn’t get over his drinking problems. Not anytime soon it seems…

Other people would have already abandoned him by now. Said it was all in vain, said he’d destroy her before he could ever get better. But she, she never gave up on him. 

Until one night…

Leon had promised her, for a day, he wouldn’t touch anything that has alcohol in it and he’d finally go to therapy. It was paid and provided for by the DSO, as they should be. But he didn’t…

He never attended that one session (or the sessions before and after, she should’ve known better), instead that afternoon he went to the nearest bodega and got himself bottles of Jack Daniels. Then he went back home and got shit-faced drunk. Again. Like always. 

And when she came over later in the evening, after she got off work; she was furious. More disappointed than furious, really. To find out that he didn’t go to therapy and he was drunk.

Then it was some back and forth arguing and Leon said some things he didn’t mean to. 

Typical of a drunk, how typical of Leon.

See, the thing is, she was one to believe that; whatever came out from someone’s mouth whenever they were drunk meant that it was the raw and most unfiltered truth they wish they could’ve said out loud sober.

So when Leon said, “What is this now, you think you could nurse me back to the old Leon?! You thought out of all the people in this whole goddamn world, you could be the one to save me from being, from being this?! I tell you what sweetheart, you never cared about me, what you do have is a savior complex!” 

It had been even uncharacteristic of Leon to say those things. And out of all the people he knew, towards her, too. 

Cruel would be an understatement. 

Leon wished he had stopped at that. Wished he had stopped and apologized to her after, but nope. He didn’t. Instead, when he saw her tear-filled eyes and her pursed lips, he went and sprinkle some salt on her wound. 

“What now, you gonna cry and run away? Gonna cut me off too like how you cut off your other friends and exes? Right, you do. Because that’s what you always do! Run away and cut off everyone whoever said an ounce of truth to you, not wronged you–no, the truth!”

Then there was silence, save for his hard and heavy breathing that filled the space. 

Leon remembers and forgets a lot of things. This is one that he’d hate to remember and unable to forget.

He remembered the way she stepped back, looked into his eyes and said it. 

I hate you. 

Then she disappeared from his apartment and disappeared from his life as well, after making it clear that she was done.

He tried reaching out to her, that very same night. Then the days that followed after, the weeks after. After Colorado. After New York. 

She disappeared. Just like that. 

So Leon gave up on looking for her. 

And after a year, he thought he’d already forgotten about her completely. Thought he’d moved on.

He thought, after going to therapy, talking to his friends more and avoiding alcohol as much as possible; he’d finally move past that night. Move past her.

But it seemed he was wrong. 

So when Leon was strolling down the streets of San Francisco during his free time, before his supposed mission–and he thought he’d heard a familiar voice, he couldn’t help but to look towards the source of that angelic voice. Could it be…?

And there she was. Gorgeous as always. Beautiful and bright, warm like the morning’s first ray of sunshine. A basket of flowers and groceries hung on her elbow. 

So she did move away. That’d explain a lot. 

Leon’s body had a mind of its own, approaching her before he could even process everything. 

Hey there.

And suddenly everything came flooding back to him.

I hate everyone else in the world but you

But you, you who I’ve hurt so much more than anyone else in the world. 

You who didn’t deserve the pain I had inflicted upon you. It was unfair. And I am so so so sorry. Wish I could take it all back. You didn’t deserve it. And then there was silence between him and her. Two birds, once of the same feather; and now? Now on opposite ends.

[ravers8fantasy]

Punch out locker room mishaps: world circuit💥🤑

The world circuit locker room would be bougie af, im talking like proper yknow

Super macho man is abbreviated to SMM cus no way am I doing allat

Sandman feels like he is baby sitting half the time because of the amount of bs that happens in the world circuit locker room

SMM has a double door locker (hell yeah) with photos of himself hanging inside of it

He calles it the 'super shrine', the other boxers think its the stupidest thing ever and soda takes the photos and puts them in the toilet cus why not

When Aran first joined no one knew what the flip he was saying, especially bald bull so he just told Aran to shut up whenever he spoke

Soda is too tall, the W.B.V.A had to install signs to the top of door frames because he kept walking into them

Sandman has watched Aran try break into his locker so many times now its become a normal sight for him

Every one is tired of Aran, bald bull has literally started a fist fight with him which ended up with Aran getting locked inside a locker for 2 hours

Sandman tried making peace between all the other boxers by making a group chat

Aran left it after bald bull kept thinking he was English, SMM thought it was a spam from crazy fan's and sent some stuff before leaving, bald bull said "fuck off" and left as soon as he saw SMM send a thirst trap and Soda was never added because he doesnt have a phone

Aran has to be searched and patted down before walking into the locker room before a match because of all his cheating scandals

When little Mac joined, Aran LOVED to not only make fun of his boxer name but also harrased him pranked him like taking his towel whilst he was using the shower and hid his stuff

Sandman made the others do a temporary alliance to beat up Aran and get poor Mac's stuff back

SMM loves the floor length mirrors in the locker room, his whole social page is full of just him flexing in that same mirror

One time he accidentally got sandman in the background looking absolutely unimpressed and it became a meme for a while

He also caught the fist fight between bald bull and aran in the background of one of his thirst traps as well

Soda's locker is full of 'juice' cartons, he doesnt need space for a gym bag because he's hidden it somewhere underneath the floor tile's somehow

Aran once head butted a wall at full force whilst trying to pick a fight with sand man

Not only did he knock himself out but he also managed to break through the dry wall and left a massive hole in the wall

Soda blasts russian hard bass/techno whilst showering and shouts the lyrics, everyone hates it.

"hell yeah bro's, I was like-

"U SO SEXY RUSSIAN GIRL Прыгай в мой фургон-танцпол"

"uh anyway yeah like as I was saying I totes like hit-

"ABSOLUT HARD BASS. RUSSIAN PARTY IN KAMAZ"

"oh now what the flip. What the flip brah thats so not cool"

Aran often crashes SMM's interviews, and shouts random things in the background (these are all being recorded by the way)

The last time it happened he shouted "OI SUPER MACHO MAN, I KNOW A SECRET ABOUT YOU MATE THAT PEOPLE MIGHT CALL A COMING OUT" (heh nikita mazepin and george russel f1 reference wait wrong fandom-)

Bull and sandman are pretty chill with eachother (on a good day which is once every couple of months), Sandman offers contructive critisism which helps Bull in the long run

Soda also gets help from sandman, Soda then tries to use the tips he heard from sandman in the ring, Soda then blacks out from drinking too much and loses

Aran makes fun of Soda's fear of horses by wearing one of those rubber horse masks (Aran is scared of flying in planes)

When Soda saw it he jumped and slapped the horse mask full force, if you know how silly it looks then you would know why bull started cackling

SMM and bald bull made a truce once, bull trapped Aran in a headlock whilst SMM took all of Aran's cheating stuff and handed it into the W.B.V.A officials

Ya cant be mad at them they were sick of getting hit in the face with his flying rope punching glove

---------------------------------------------------

Help why did I struggle sm doing this💔 thats all the locker room mishaps done, I fear this is only the beginning I have sm more planned keep grinding chat ill see ya next time 😈😈

[keeksandgigz]

Hey Keeks! So I was day dreaming while I was looking at my ring that has a Lilith sigil on it and now I’m thinking about Witchy giving Eddie something like it

Im mixing these two @rebelfell hehe here's a little vignette, for some reason Eddie doing crystal shop deliveries makes me think of Kronk. <3

Hope u enjoy!!

You pick up the phone attached to the wall.

"Genesis Records. Eddie speaking, what's up?" you smile as you imagine him leaning against the wall, holding the landline phone between his ear and shoulder as he gets a pen and paper to take notes in case it's some important shipment information.

"Ed, it's me" you huff out, and you can feel the smile from the other side of the receiver, he likes it when you call him at work, his heart picks up- maybe at the chance that he might have to sneak off upstairs into his apartment when you happen to have coordinated lunch breaks.

"Hey, witchy, I'm about to go on my lunch, I'll see you upstairs in five-" you're quick to interrupt him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, I'm not on my lunch. I called you because I need your help" you're overwhelmed and don't seem to be in the mood for his shenanigans. You can sense his smile dropping immediately, a slow cast of concern washing over his face.

"What is it, baby?" his tone is suddenly muted, like a child that got scolded for talking too much from his teacher.

"We're understaffed. It's just me and Naradea right now, we need someone to do deliveries, we're incredibly backed up with them" You purse your lips together, hoping for a decisive 'yes' "I'll send you a list of addresses and I'll pay for gas and stuff, you just need to drive around town and deliver some packages- crystals, potions, the works" you huff out, half- stressed.

It takes him a second to think about it "Matt can cover me, I'll be over in a second lemme grab my truck and I'll meet you in the courtyard?" and you exhale a sigh of relief as he hangs up and gets his truck over to the back entrance of your store.

You run out, a couple small boxes in your hands "Thank you so much for doing this, I'll uh... make sure you're rewarded plenty tonight" you whisper against his cheek, placing a small kiss where the warm air of your breath hit.

He grows red at the seductive invitation, slightly growing somewhere else as well, unable to keep his head from reeling at the thought of what would be waiting for him tonight.

"Consider me intrigued" he smirks against your lips, taking the boxes from your hands and giving you a delicate kiss as he fills up the back of his truck with boxes.

You show him a clipboard with the names of the witches and their addresses "See, you've got Arla on Lombard, Clemensia on Castro, Athena and Arachne both on Third street and so on. They should be placed in order so you don't have to go back and forth around the city" you point at the purple colored page.

"Am I gonna get hit on by any of these ladies, 'cause if I am you gotta warn me- can't be too charming if they're trying to fuck me" he snickers, you hit him on the arm "ow," he moans.

"'Kay then" you take off your ring, the one with the sigil of Lilith that sits on your middle finger "give me your pinky, this will tell them that you're already spoken for"

You slip the ring on his pinky finger "Witchy if you wanted to propose to me this is a weird way to do it, y'know?" he laughs "Am I just cattle to you?" he moans dramatically as he gets in the car, rolling down his window.

"Cutest cattle I've ever seen" you scrunch your nose as you lean in the open window to give him a kiss "I'll see you tonight at mine?"

"You bet, and you can tell me more about that reward you were talking about" he smirks, puckering his lips for a kiss.

"I'll go home to sharpen my knives, then" you joke, biting your lip.

"Mmm, kinky" he caresses your forearm "See you tonight, gorgeous" he says, before driving off.

"Hello Ms. Arla, my name's Eddie I will be delivering your goodies for all your witchy needs today" he says, in his charming tone, as he watches the old lady reach into her pocket to give him a candy that seemed to be at least 50 years old. Grandmas are all the same after all.

"My god, Clemensia you look divine today" he flirts with a close friend of your aunt Hilda as she blushes and lightly smacks his arm. He offers her the box full of her deliveries "your witchy goodies m'lady" he bows and is not allowed to leave until he's had tea with her.

During his rounds he's offered treats, biscuits, readings of all kinds as he politely agrees, unable to say no to these nice ladies who all seem to know him by name.

His last delivery is someone named Aphra- he's never met her before, maybe a new addition to the 'witch community' as he calls it.

She ordered two boxes of stuff. He carries them up a steep flight of stairs and rings the doorbell.

Aphra isn't old, she isn't young- she looks ageless, and that, for some reason, scares Eddie.

"Lady- uh- Ms.- your witchiness- Aphra?" he stutters in a bout of embarrassment as he continues "my name's-"

"Edward. You're the young witch's human boyfriend" she hums "She got in a lot of trouble for allowing you to be a part of our world" He remembers you being deprived of your magic until your trial. Two months of seeing you mope around your apartment.

He wasn't sure what to say.

"Despite that you stuck by her, even through your bout of confusion. Let's call it you being... 'lost'" she snickers as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket, extracting a token made out of black metal.

"Bring this to your witch, as a token of my appreciation. Have a good evening, Edward" she brings the boxes inside with ease, and closes the door behind her.

He looks at the black token. Ridged with the sigil of the coven- three indented stars.

Eddie plays with it on the way to your house, rolling it on his leg, wondering what it might mean.

When he gets to your house, much to his dismay, he has to stop you from jumping on him. The curiosity is eating him alive. He shows you the black token, and all color seems to drain from your face.

"Holy shit" you utter "Holy shit!" a bit louder this time.

"Wha- what? What is it, witchy?" he asks, as you guide him on your purple couch. Your breath seems to be knocked from your lungs.

"Aphra is the head of the coven" you're playing with the indentations of the token, Eddie mentally cringes at the absolute shit first impression he made with what appears to be the madame president of all witches, or something like that.

"This token is her blessing" you have tears in your eyes, Eddie's still confused.

"Blessing for what?"

"Blessing to get married" you shrill, and Eddie's heart almost falls out of his ass.

[bengiyo]

My Love Mix Up TH: The Adaptation Changes to the Class Play

I’m generally in favor of the cross-cultural adaptations of BL. I am on record saying plainly that I think the Thai version of Cherry Magic is the best version of the story we’ve seen brought to screen. However, I do not like what’s happening in My Love Mix Up and I need to talk about it. I’ve been thinking about the class play storyline since last Friday, and it bothers me because they fundamentally changed the messaging and themes around that sequence. 

I want to take the time to compare and contrast both versions of this because after two episodes, the Thai version is basically in the same place as the beginning of episode 3 of the Japanese live action.

Kieta Hatsukoi’s Take

We begin episode 2 with Aoki sorting the love triangle he’s suddenly found himself in, before committing to helping Hashimoto connect with Ida even if he confused Ida by claiming the eraser was his.

Seeing an opportunity, Aoki accidentally signs himself up alongside Ida to help on stage setup.

Before our complications ensue, there’s only 1 day left before they put on the show.

I’ll skip over the portion where they’re working on the stage stuff for brevity.

The next day, the leads reveal that they can’t perform because they got sick, and so the class has to scramble, and pragmatically decide that the stage design team doesn’t have any other responsibilities during the play and have the time to fill in the role. The class suggests Hashimoto but she’s clearly nervous.

Aoki, wanting to help her, volunteers to play Cinderella.

The class decides to let him play and agrees as a group.

Aida suggests Ida play the prince.

The class rallies to prep cue cards quickly so they can still do the play.

Aoki is not a great actor, but he commits to the bit and is willing to wear the drag required for the role.

Ida is also not that great of an actor, but he looks good!

After the play, Aoki has changed back into his uniform during the class party, but Ida is still taking pictures with people at the class’s request.

The class president starts a celebration of Aoki and Ida, but then the jokes take a turn and make Aoki uncomfortable.

The teacher, Aida, and Ida are uncomfortable about this.

Ida chides the class for teasing Aoki, reminds them that he did it for their sake, and leaves an uncomfortable silence. Aoki breaks the tension with a joke about himself, and the teacher shuffles the class out.

Finally, Ida checks on Aoki.

The My Love Mix Up TH Take

The Thai version opens directly with the class play organization before doing a simplified voiceover to check in with Atom, who says he wants to help them.

I’ll skip over the same stage prep stuff, and the leads calling in. The class suggests Mudmee play the role, but she is nervous about being on stage.

Atom tries to volunteer instead, and is immediately shot down for gendered reasons by the female director and then the rest of the class.

Half encourages them to select Kongthap as the Prince because he says Atom gets tongue-tied when he’s nervous.

We aren’t given a sense of the timeline, but it feels like they have a few days to work on this since Mudmee leaves rehearsal. 

Atom then stays behind to help Kongthap on his practice.

The day of the play, Mudmee’s stage fright gets the better of her, and so Atom takes the stage on his own.

The class rolls with it, and then two fill-in actors (one of which wasn’t recommended as an option because he gets too nervous and tongue tied) go on to nail three musical numbers that also include a dance.

Afterwards, Mudmee apologizes, and the female director says it was the class’s fault, so now is the time to celebrate.

Next, three boys begin to tease Atom in a most homophobic way.

Atom is uncomfortable, and Kongthap gets angry on Atom’s behalf. He chides them for teasing Atom who saved the class.

The female director then comes back, tells Kongthap he spoke well, and then kicks out the other three boys and their ‘toxic masculinity.’ 

After an awkward pause, the class is shuffled out for fireworks by another student, and Atom checks on Kongthap.

Why Point Out These Changes?

The reason why I’m so bothered about these changes is that it removes the collective responsibility from the story. 

In the Japanese version, Aoki volunteers and the class agrees to support his choice. It then requires them to work together to scramble and make sure the play is as much of a success as it can be with two unprepared actors in the lead roles. It also means that Aoki and Ida aren’t actually great at either role, but Ida is attractive in his prince outfit, while Aoki is funny in his drag. The play is a success! However, it is also the class that begins to collectively tease Aoki in a somewhat homophobic way. The teacher looks on, uncertain, and it’s Ida who chides the class for giving Aoki a hard time after doing something to help them. 

The fact that the whole class signed on to make Aoki Cinderella, and then teased him for playing an apparent queer role as a class matters! This works as a commentary about how we don’t mind enjoying queerness as entertainment, but then make fun of people for actually doing it. This lands especially hard because Aoki did this for Hashimoto’s sake, and he’s going through his own queer awakening. The role of collective homophobia, and how he is incapable of really hiding anything about himself, is a critical piece of the story to come. 

In the Thai version, the class explicitly rejects Atom and highlights his faults for why he isn’t a good choice. He then goes on to defy them, I guess, to help Mudmee anyway? It ends up not working for me because I don’t see what the point of Atom being secretly good at acting and singing contributes here when the play is just an activity they’re doing for their class. I don’t know what role exceptionalism is meant to play here because he ends up defying the class to help them instead. Moreover, the play has been the most well-funded and stylish part of the show so far, and felt out of place for a small class production.

Perhaps I’m overthinking it. Because these are the leads from My School President, and GMMTV has concerts to put on, they need to amplify these school play scenes to sell tickets later. Is the brand management around Fourth the reason they didn’t have the class sign on because then they would have to put him in drag? Director Au was an AD and performer on Bad Buddy where they decided to do an m/m version of a classic play. Why not do the same here?

I also find it disingenuous that the female director is the first person to shoot down Atom for not being a girl as Cinderella, and then is the one to kick out the three boys for their apparent toxic masculinity. I think by making it Atom’s choice to take the stage, the boys’ choice to troll Atom, and the director’s choice to get rid of them, it reduces the social politics of socialized homophobia down to an individual problem. By removing the collective role of the class in this situation, the show loses the potency of the role we all play in the consumption and production of queer media and the tension between wanting these shows for entertainment while holding homophobic viewpoints. 

I have other issues with this episode as an adaptation, but I wanted to focus on the big writing changes here. It’s frustrating because in a side by side comparison, the Thai show hits many of the same moments as the source material and the Japanese live action, but then it goes on to change and add things that generally confuse the story, and I wonder if that’s what contributed to some of the confusion in scenes I’m seeing from the actors in some of the new content (who I actually think are doing fine to good with the content). I also worry that removing some of the collectivist messaging and the supervisory role of a teacher is going to weaken a key storyline that should be coming in the future. 

[softgreengrass]

Sun to Me

Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Wednesday isn't a great girlfriend.

Words: 2.0k

Warnings: none, implied f!reader, reader referred to as girlfriend

Author's Note: angst sorry not sorry. inspired by sun to me by zach bryan,, first fic i've published so any feedback is appreciated!

Pt. 2

When you first met Wednesday, you were absolutely terrified of her. But she had taken an interest in you, from the very beginning, and soon you found yourself laughing at her morbid jokes and thinking about her every night before you fell asleep.

Wednesday would never admit it, but when she couldn’t sleep, her mind would wander to far-off places. She saw your smile, your hand in hers, and she saw a love like her parents had. 

Now, half a year later, you feel like you know more about Wednesday than you ever wanted to. You know every last quirk, every microexpression she lets grace her face. You know exactly the way she lights up when she sees you, even if to others it looks like a regular glare. Wednesday lets you sleep in her bed; she lets you braid her hair; she lets you lounge about during her writing time. It’s normal stuff, but it isn’t, because it’s Wednesday. Hell, seeing her smile is rarer than Halley’s Comet, let alone getting into her personal space.

Wednesday doesn’t know why she’s so enthralled by you, but she is. You’re patient with her, even when you probably shouldn’t be, and you jump at the chance to take care of her. It feels good.

“Thank god that’s over,” you say, flopping face-down onto her bed. Thing jumps out from under the covers, scurrying away.

The history exam you’ve just completed was the last one on your schedule — you’re free. For a week of break, anyways. Wednesday had helped you study for it (you flipped through a textbook while she rattled off every piece of evidence she had collected for her newest investigation).

“How did it go?” she asks, standing up from her chair and popping a piece of black licorice into her mouth.

“Bad,” you say, voice muffled. “But it’s over.”

She hums.

“How were yours?” You roll over, watching as she walks over to the bulletin board pinned full of documents and sticky notes.

“Unchallenging.”

That was Wednesday. Always too smart for her own good. “What do you want to do tonight? No homework,” you grin.

“I need to go to Jericho High School,” she says plainly, staring at the board.

Your face falls, even though at this point it shouldn’t. It’s a common occurrence: Wednesday too caught up in her hyperfixation to make time for you or your feelings. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore. You swallow, making sure your voice stays level. “What are you gonna find there?”

She looks over her shoulder, eyes flashing annoyance. “I don’t know. That’s the point of going.”

Right.

The thing is, you can’t blame her. She told you, again and again, that you shouldn’t devote your time or energy to her. For the first few weeks of your relationship, she was a broken record: “this is a bad idea,” “you shouldn’t care about me,” “you’d be better off alone.” You, enamored with her jet-black hair and the dusting of freckles across her nose, had taken it as a challenge.

More and more, you found yourself regretting that.

Then Wednesday says your name, tentatively, and your gaze snaps to her.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, the words unnatural in her stony voice. “Was that insensitive?”

You shake your head, putting on a smile. You’re still Wednesday Addams’ girlfriend. You get her heart, at the end of the day. “It’s okay.”

“I’m hoping to find something that points me to the culprit.”

You nod, wishing for her to just drop it. You’d rather move on, figure out plans with one of your friends instead.

“Would you like to do something tomorrow?” Her eyes are hesitant, but genuine, and just like that your heart melts again.

“There’s an art gallery opening a couple towns over,” you blurt, too excited to let this opportunity pass. “We could… drive over and see it?”

She’s turned back to the board. “How long would that take?”

You ignore the slight sting in your heart. “I don’t know, it depends on how long we spend there. We could make a whole day out of it.”

“I told Eugene I’d help him prepare the hives for the next harvest,” she says blankly. “That won’t work.”

It kills you that she can’t concentrate on you for more than a few seconds at a time. Especially since you know that if you were to ignore her in the same way, even just for an hour, she would shut down and close herself off. “Can you at least look at me?”

There’s emotion bubbling up inside of you, emotion that you don’t want to express right now, but she’s facing you.

“I’m working on being more delicate, you know that,” Wednesday says, her voice tight. You know her defenses are up.

“It’s not that,” you scoff, blinking back stubborn tears. “You never try. Do you know how many things I’ve compromised on for you?”

Her eyes flick around the room, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The movies, for one,” you say, shuddering at the thought of the true-crime documentaries you’re plagued to watch nearly every night. “The no-touching. The no-compliments. The not-telling-anyone-about-us?”

“You agreed to all of that.”

“Exactly!” you cry. “That’s my point! What have you agreed to?”

Wednesday hates the feeling creeping up her chest. The burning feeling in her throat, the cold dread in the pit of her stomach. That she’s hurting someone she cares about without even realizing it. Again. She wants desperately to make it right, to understand exactly what you want her to do, but the moment you raise your voice, her reflexes kick in. 

“I agreed to being your girlfriend!” she says, louder than she meant to.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. She isn’t even trying to understand. “That was that big of a sacrifice for you, huh?”

Wednesday licks her lips nervously, hating the look in your eyes, hating how hurt you are and how angry she is. Now, the thought of a relationship like her parents’ is distant and sickening. She can’t imagine having the patience to communicate with someone for so many years — all she can think about is how much easier it would be to do it all alone.

But then her eyes find yours, desperate and heartbroken and filled with tears, and she wants to tear her hair out.

“I’m not enough for you, I know that,” you say quietly, and Wednesday’s heart twists in a way it never has before. “But I… I just thought you would try.”

She calls your name, reaches out a hand, but you’ve already left her dorm. You rush down the hallway, hoping she leaves you alone and chases after you all at once. The tears are hot down your cheeks, and the lump in your throat just won’t leave. You had trusted Wednesday with your heart. You had given it to her, even though your mom knew and your best friend knew and you knew that you shouldn’t have.

Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you, your mom would say, whenever you asked her questions about love far too big for a six-year-old. She would tell you that your heart was a treasure, and that someday you’d find someone who bettered you in every single way.

You had known, you had always known that that wasn’t Wednesday. But she kissed you, she opened up to you, she looked at you in ways that said you were the most special person in the world. And for a while, you were. You were the only one who got to know Wednesday Addams. But you had invested too much, and she never changed: the same inexplicable mystery that had drawn you to her was now pulling you apart from the inside out. She wasn’t built for the kind of relationship that you needed, even if she could make your day just by meeting your eyes.

You find your way to your room through tear-blurred vision, thanking the stars above that your roommate had left early to spend break with her parents.

You collapse onto your bed, sobbing. You feel silly, stupid, used, thinking about every sacrifice you’ve made for her and how little she’s done in return. How unfair it is: she’s trying, you know she’s trying, but trying to Wednesday is the bare minimum to you, and you can’t change what you need.

You cry until your head pounds and your throat is raw, and even then you can’t stop picturing her dark eyes and scarce, golden smiles. You hear your mother’s voice in your head. Your heart clenches.

Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep, thoughts racing and palms sweating. You want more than anything to go to Wednesday’s room to rant about all of your emotions, knowing she’s only half-listening, and to persuade her to cuddle with you in bed, to hold her tight.

Nausea comes and goes in waves.

You don’t want to answer the knock at your door, except it comes from low down on the ground, and you’d never turn Thing away.

He’s holding an envelope between his second and third fingers.

An envelope, with your name scrawled across it in messy cursive. Thing drops it and takes a small bow, hurrying down the hall. You pick it up and shut the door with a sniff, wiping your nose. You’ve never been so grateful for deserted hallways.

You rip it open on your bed, entirely unprepared for the rush of emotion that hits you when you smell Wednesday’s typewriter ink.

I can’t say things to your face, but you need to know them, so I’ve decided to write them.  If I am a black dahlia, you are a sunflower. You are the sweetest of the sunflowers; you are the sun to me. I loathe myself for every moment I have spent upsetting you. I know that I am selfish, and that you are selfless, and that I hurt you even when I’m not trying to. Sorry isn’t enough of a word.

For my entire life, I believed love was nothing but a weakness to be exploited. I thought people like you, who love and give endlessly into this world, were oblivious to the reality of the world. But then I met you, and you cared for someone who least deserved it. The time of day was more than I deserved, and you gave me so much more than that. You have parted the clouds, you have brought sunlight into my life, you have brought me more joy and peace than I care to admit. And to repay you, I hurt you.

You are the sweetest of the sunflowers, and I will never again let myself forget it. I vow to do my utmost to provide you with everything you desire, if you allow me. I’m sorry, my love.

Wednesday nearly jumps when Thing returns, asking him how you looked and if you took the letter. She waits, bouncing her leg, tapping her fingers, thinking about why time travel hasn’t been invented yet. Her mouth is dry, her heart hammering against her ribs. She’s never been so anxious before.

 She barely remembers to smooth out her hair before answering the knock that eventually comes at her door.

“Hi,” you mumble, holding the letter in your hands.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Do I get another chance?” she asks in a rush. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her this forward.

“I’m out of patience,” you say, and she nods quickly, blinking red-rimmed eyes.

A younger version of you would be reeling at the sight of such blatant emotion on her face.

“Can I hug you?”

Her eyebrows lift, eyes widening ever so slightly.

You can’t stand being mad at her.

Her arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close, her face buried into the crook of your neck. You take a deep breath.

[sunlightmurdock]

AETERNA | Two

ONE | MASTERLIST

SNYOPSIS: the show begins.

WARNINGS: smoking; the fic takes place in the 70s and so 70s era things will happen; mentions of minor character death; this fic has mature themes and is intended for adults, minors pls dni. spooky stuff. word count: 7.2k

…

On days that Billy works late at the shop, or just can’t find time to entertain your whims, you walk home from the Pines. It’s not too bad of a journey, you’re lucky that Fred and Joan didn’t pick a place too far out.

If you were to cross the creek at the bend, right outside of work, it would shave a good twenty minutes off of your journey. In the interest of keeping your Keds white and your socks dry, you take the longer route and walk down West Avenue.

Past the laundromat and Miss Jessie’s hair salon. Along the grass verge, sticking to the side of the road where there’s no footpath. People drive safer this close to town. Usually.

Early afternoon and you’re thinking about that evening.

Olive was supposed to come along with you tonight, but she blew you off to go fool around behind the old firehouse with this older guy she’s seeing. Twenty-eight, a father-to-be, and he still gets his kicks in the bushes like a teenager. Gnarly.

It’s for the best, though; your mom doesn’t like Olive too much. Joan wasn’t ever too strict with you — she let you scrape your knees and muddy your Sunday Bests, a couple minutes after curfew here and there never hurt. But to her, someone like Olive is someone treading water and bound to go under.

In Olive, you have found the big sister you had always wanted, but you wouldn’t go under with her. You’re too smart for that, your father says.

Without Olive, it’ll just be you and Georgie tonight. You just hope that he doesn’t get the willies and make you leave before it’s over. Fred would probably be pretty upset if you did wind up coming home without his only surviving son.

Wesley’s pictures are still up around the house, and his room remains untouched down the hall from yours, but he’ll have been gone five years in July. He doesn’t come up in conversation much anymore.

In another life, he would be driving tonight. You’d get shotgun and radio privileges, Georgie would get to be a real little brother and be banished to the backseat. You’d get your kicks chasing after gold-skinned West-Coasters and Wes would do what he always had and man the fort.

“You’re back!” Georgie greets you — half scaring you to death — by leaping down from the second stair and onto the runner by the door. You wobble in the direction you had come, the screen door clapping against your backside and deciding for you that you’re staying inside. “I’ve been waiting forever!”

“Yeah? Forever?” You drop your bag by the door and point a finger between the stripes on his t-shirt, right into that ticklish spot against his ribs. When he grins, he looks like your big brother had. He’s not much like Wes, though. It’s better that way.

“Man, and now I have to wait for you to get dressed!” Georgie realises, throwing his head back in complaint. “What time are we leaving?”

“Little after five,” You say and step around him as he spirals to keep with you, glancing down at the chunky brown wristwatch you use primarily to time Mr. Wheelan’s phone conversations with his mother against your smoke breaks. “Hour and a half. If that’s alright with you.”

He lingers at the bottom of the stairs while you hasten for your room. An uncertain frown works its way onto his freckled face as his stomach rumbles under the confines of his Sears’ Best t-shirt. “… Before supper?”

“Fred gave me money — we’ll get something on the way.”

From the downstairs hall, he curls his fist into a ball and celebrates under his breath. You wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway, your fingers already dropping the needle onto your still inky, sexy new Fleetwood Mac record.

After a month and a bit of trying, you had nabbed it at a store a town over. Atwood’s excuse for a record store rarely had the new stuff.

Sharp, fast-guitar strums and Lindsay Buckingham’s wicked vocals. There’s nothing better. Well, not yet. Someday soon, Lindsay Buckingham will be on the guest list to one of the lavish parties you’ll throw. By then, you won’t sing as embarrassingly as you do in your childhood bedroom.

Making your way through buttons and fastenings and stockings and Keds, you hop and dance to lyrics you haven’t quite memorized yet while shedding the candy-striped version of yourself for someone far superior.

Wiggling your hips and nodding your head as you pick through your closet, you’re searching for a safe middle ground in a sea of far from between. You’ll need something that Georgie won’t snake to Joan about, and something California at the same time. That’s where they’re from, you figure. With tans and smiles like that, it just seems like the reasonable guess.

Your skin-tight bell-bottoms are the obvious choice. Georgie can’t nark on you for jeans, but then again, these are so much more than jeans. They’re heaven sent. You’d spent your first Pines paycheck on them, and they were worth every penny.

The record plays on through tracks two, three, four and into “Go Your Own Way” while you’re still making up your mind on how to decorate your top half. Red would be your usual pick to stand out, but you’re going to be surrounded by a sea of red so that’s out. Green would make you stick out like a Christmas tree. Yellow works, you guess, in a McDonalds kind of way.

There’s no need for an alarm clock. By track six, Georgie is trying your doorknob and reminding you promptly that it’s a little after five. Fred installed that bolt lock on your door a little over a year ago. It keeps your brother out in the hallway. Your wristwatch, discarded, confirms that it’s exactly six minutes after five. That means time for make-up is over and you really need to find a shirt.

“We still have time for burgers, right?” Georgie bounds down the stairs ahead of you with reckless abandon and lacking coordination, slipping on the rug and catching himself on the stair rail.

“If you tie your laces in less than ten minutes.” Your answer is purely to tease him. You’re uncertain about the denim waistcoat you were forced to pick, but the jeans save it. Your new leather boots will make it.

As you zip them up your calves, Georgie races past you, almost banging into the front door as he wrestles it open. As he tears outside, you notice his feet halfway jammed into his sneakers, wobbling with each step. “I’ll tie ‘em in the car!”

Joan stops, wincing through her view from the dining room window as her overconfident little boy steps onto his own lace and tumbles into the door of the family station wagon.

“Nice going, Airhead!” You call out, turning your head mid-jibe to find your mother watching you. Her face flattens sternly, but she decides her priorities lie with making sure her airhead son picks himself out of the dirt okay.

The screen door rattles behind you as you jog down the steps and Georgie scrambles to his feet, brushing off his blue jeans.

“Wave bye to Mom.” You remind him, waving sweetly at the dining room window as you unlock the car and slink into the driver’s seat.

He stands straight and grins, cheeks dimpled as he waves toward the window.

The old radio system crackles to a start, and Joan watches from the dining room window as you reverse it down the driveway and pull out onto the main road.

The sky sits between purple and blue, darkening like a bruise as the station wagon follows the winding country roads that stretch out towards the O’Malley farm. It sits between mountain foothills, on the verge of Cole County, almost in Martock County — country club central.

In the late afternoon, your brother is buzzing. He can barely contain his excitement, or his singing voice despite you making him promise to stop exactly six miles back. He shoots a gleaming look up at you, grinning as he holds onto his vanilla shake like it’s a Pulitzer Prize. Fast food, his favorite flavor shake, and a trip to the realm of the unknown all in one night.

He’s going to have a lot to talk about come Miss Lindsay’s class Monday morning.

You plan to have plenty to talk about Monday morning, too. I.e. the dirt on those guys you spotted out by airport road; you saw ‘em first, and Olive is, in some regards, spoken for — so they’re all yours for now. At least one of them must be single. The guy with the mustache had a girl in his passenger seat, after all. But she didn’t seem to want to hit you for drooling all over him, so either she’s a Martian or she says he’s fair game.

“There it is, I see it!” Georgie declares, spotting the glowing Ferris wheel through a break in the trees. Your stomach twists, a giddy excitement toying at your nerve endings. You play it cool, shooting him a knowing smile, tugging the wheel to a slow left.

The O’Malley farm is the biggest in the area, threatening to be the oldest thing around too. Of its acres and acres of land, the circus has been allotted a four acre space at the forefront, just off the road.

You were here once for a Fourth of July fireworks show. You’d spilled mustard on your new white jeans. Your older brother had put you up on his shoulders and you’d forgotten how sad you were, lost in a sea of red, white and blue sparks.

Georgie lights up with the foreground, his jaw going slack as he stares out at the sea of sounds and colours ahead of him. Sure, it’s Saturday night but this place is packed. The designated span of grass is filled with Atwood’s car and truck collection; you do as Fred would want, and leave the station wagon at the end of the row. It’ll be easier to get out later.

It’s all neon around here. Purple lingers in the darkening sky, the dirt and the grass dry and the air brisk. Lights and screams overpower the song playing over the radio. The same one you’d heard out on Airport Road. Electricity fizzles in your stomach the way static feels on your fingertips when you reach for the television screen.

“Can we get cotton candy?”

Your head turns. Your gaze flickers downward. You eyeball the emptied cup, the now missing vanilla shake, and then look back at your brother’s ecstatic face. His feet kick uncontrollably in the footwell. Your lips purse, as if to consider the proposal. Guitar plays on around you, all electric like the feeling in your stomach.

“Yeah… we’ll see,” You cut the ignition and grab your purse from the passenger side footwell. With the engine, the radio dies too, and the song stops abruptly. The familiar guitar riff cuts out before you even remember where you’ve heard it before. “Let’s get our tickets first.”

Though, it might be kind of a fun joke to get him all hopped up on sugar and take him back home to kill Fred’s Saturday Night Movie Marathon. His VHS collection is unrivaled amongst the dads of Atwood.

Georgie is absolutely not, under any circumstances, allowed to get his grubby little paws on a single one of those tapes. Not because they’re dirty, or scary — but because Georgie likes to understand the mechanics of how things come apart and Fred prefers his belongings intact.

Your eyes are drawn to every corner of your peripheral, your boots tracking through dry dirt path. One hand on Georgie’s shoulder, you keep note that he’s still with you as your eyes explore. Dirt spills into grassland and you’re off the path; you just aim for the centre.

The fairground roars around you, hitting the peak of Saturday night excitement, carnival games singing and rattling around you and the carousel singing out dead ahead. Lights and games whir wildly around you, it feels like you’re still hearing that electric riff even now it’s gone.

“Can we go on the Ferris wheel?” Georgie tugs at your forearm, barely audible over the thrum of the whirring generator beside you. A shrieking scream tears your attention from him. To your far right, there’s a Rotor ride — a giant, spinning green cage that sticks you to the wall with one of Newton’s laws. If your eighth grade teacher was hotter, you’d know which one.

“If you’ll ride that one with me.” You point a gel-polished fingertip toward the spinning ride. Georgie shifts a bit, and fiddles with his hands. He’s eleven this year, getting too old to be chickening out of fairground rides.

“Alright.” He agrees without nodding, or really even moving. Your wristwatch is still on your bed at home, but with all the crowds out here, you know you must have time. Your hand presses between his shoulder blades, carrying him with you as you start towards the spinning ride.

Fifty cents later and you’re looking across at him, each of your backs pressed flat against the flimsy, green-painted metal. He reaches out for your hand and squeezes his eyes shut. You turn your head towards the lilac hue and inhale; buttered popcorn and sugar-sweet candy floss filling your senses.

“Smell that?” You ask him, squeezing your fingers around his. He peeks one eye open, his nose wrinkling. He smells it too, the sweet scent in the air. The sky’s coloured like it’s full of it, lighter than usual because of all the sugar. “No one’s ever been afraid while eating candy floss.”

And he stumbles off, feeling like he’s still spinning in circles and regretting that big vanilla shake a little bit, but grinning. The safety of being with a big sister isn’t something you ever grow out of. He looks up at you, your hand on his shoulder.

Your hair whips around you as you follow him off of the ride, still laughing at the way he’d shrieked. Your eyes crinkle at the edges and your knees angle towards each other like you’re laughing so hard you might pee, your laugh is far reaching.

The eyes on you, though amused, turn away as quickly as they’d found you. The feeling lingers anyway and you turn, looking through the crowds, searching for the attention you feel. Your instincts are good, but your eyes catch on the wrong thing. Your admirer has already turned in the other direction.

The sky has darkened sometime since you stepped onto the ride. It verges; safe, summer lilac bloom and tinged toward the color of a fresh bruise. The lights around are so bright that the O’Malley farmland looks like it’s being consumed, fading into the dark around it.

To the right side of the Big Top is a rectangular booth with a helpfully illuminated TICKETS sign hanging above, and a man inside shouting the same word on repeat with different varying offers.

His sights land on you. Something sudden, mechanical, almost. His gaze is stiff and unwavering, eyelids peeled back, irises black. Immediately, you feel watched. Not like before, not something instinctual that had made you turn to look.

It feels like even the sky up above notices, the sky skulking towards that kind of blue named after the darkest point of the night.

Wearing a black button-up shirt with a red waistcoat, he’s the only person around that you can see in a uniform. His face is a grease-paint white and there’s a red smile painted across his lips. They stretch back to reveal straight, white teeth, bared like an animal. Then, they curl at the edges and become something more natural — something closer to a smile.

“Show’s about to start! Sales close in the next five minutes, folks! Get your tickets!” He calls out like he’s looking right through you, even though you’re walking right for him now.

Steadied, no longer spinning, Georgie stares in awe, his neck craned all the way back as he watches the Ferris Wheel carriages rock and wobble. Safe with his big sister, he’s not looking. You curl your fingers into the back of his shirt, losing the sinister, greased-red smile in the crowd for a second as you reach for your purse with your other hand.

The bodies pass by and there he is again, watching you once again, but up closer he’s not so scary at all. You can see the way the paint is brushed onto his skin, and his eyes aren’t really black but more of a deep brown. His lips stretch into a goofy, friendly grin.

His rigid fingers relax against the wooden podium he’s posted behind, nail marks in the wood hidden behind his glove-covered palms.

“Hi, kids,” He’s got the goofy clown voice nailed, too. He almost makes you smile as he looks towards Georgie and plants his hands on his hips from inside the booth. “Are you excited for the show, young man?”

“Yes, sir.” Georgie answers back, suddenly bashful as he hangs off of your forearm.

“Two tickets, please.” You tell him, that awful, cold feeling ebbing away as you dip into your purse and pull five dollars from your wallet. Two dollars for kids, three for adults. Steeper than the movie theater, that’s for sure.

“Here you go! You kids enjoy the show now.” The clown slides the two pink stubs under the plastic for you, tipping his head to the side and grinning real wide once again.

“Thanks.” You turn and plant your hand on Georgie’s back again. Those folks who stick reins on their kids might be onto something. “It’s about to start. We’ll do the wheel later, okay?”

People have already started to filter in ahead and behind you. The tent is quieter, and darker than outside, the screams of excitement seem so much further away. Following the flickering string lights, you venture deeper under the shade of thick, red and white canvas.

Ahead of you is a circle marked by red borders, a round, dirt-bottomed arena for the performers. Rows and rows of bleachers surrounding the space, pushing at the walls of the tent for the audience. It looks bigger inside. They were expecting a big crowd, and they got it.

“Here.” You pat softly at his shoulder and point to the second row of bleachers. Front row might be better for someone his size, but you would just about die of embarrassment if you got called as a volunteer.

“Uh-huh. Do you want a soda?” Georgie asks, planting his butt onto the wooden bench beside you, rocking the soles of his Chucks into the wooden slat below. He’s been waiting to ask, these dimes have been burning a hole in his pocket since Fred handed them over this afternoon.

A gentleman always pays, and that’s what Georgie’ll be someday soon.

You chortle, shaking your head. “I’m alright. Do you need some money?”

People filter in around you with hushed pardons and thank-yous. You set your bag down under the bench and that’s where it remains, forgotten, for the rest of the evening..

“No. I brought mine! — I’ve gotta get you something,” He explains, the freckles on his face disappearing as the lights above you flicker on and off purposefully. He fishes a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a handful of coins, presenting them to you urgently. “Popcorn?”

Instantly, you recognise this as the workings of your father. Wesley, too. A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth, then catches.

The last person standing takes their seat. The circus tent stirs, buzzing to life with hushed whispers of what’s to come. There’s a constant whir in the background, the sound of generators keeping this place going.

Craning your neck back, you study the support beams. The podiums so far up that you can no longer see the wires, the hooks for silks, the point at the very top of the tent where all of the lights stem from.

A reminder that summer grows nearer by the minute, the tent is already thick with the warm evening air.

Your gaze flickers back to the tall podiums and the bowed ceiling of the canvas as the stage lights flicker and then dim. A thud rings out like a stack of books dropping as a spotlight hits dead center on the red curtain that hangs. Everything settles into an abrupt quiet.

“After. It’s starting.”

Anticipation settles under the canvas, weighing heavier than the early May air. Popcorn crunching and shoes fidgeting against the wooden bleachers, a cough from somewhere to your far left.

Then, with another thud, the tent falls pitch black. Georgie squeezes your wrist. He’s still scared of the dark.

With a rush, a spotlight beams on the center of the arena, revealing at once a man in black slacks and an elaborate red tailcoat. From beneath the brim of his top hat, his mouth twists into a smile, the rest of his face hidden under the cast of a shadow.

His white, gloved hands stretch out from behind his back and lift from his sides in an almost greeting gesture. He spreads his wingspan, addressing the audience as he steps forward and looks swiftly up, his gaze piercing and blue.

It tracks that he’s the one in charge around here. Older, but young in the way his eyes glint with trouble. He looks left to right, following the curve of the audience, captivating his spectators with knife-life sharpness.

The crowd has fallen resoundingly still. Popcorn goops with the threat of cooling, congealing butter. Shoes are unwavering, suddenly stuck. Georgie’s eyes bulge, blinking back at the unblinking Ringmaster.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.” With a chilling air of calm, his lips peel back into a toothy smile. It’s friendly by nature, but cold to the eye. His head twists slowly, bending thirty degrees to the left, his smile spreading the way water does when puddled. “To the greatest show in the world.”

Ambitious, you think. Some hot guys and some speeding fines and suddenly the rest of the world are out of the running.

You recognise the self-assured leader of it all. He’s the guy from the first van, the big one, with the girl in the passenger seat. Hell on wheels, coming over that hill. Brown hair feathers from under the hat and sits around his jaw, the only part of him that’s not immaculately kept.

The tailed coat he wears is effectively tailored, showing off the gold watch on his right hand and the glimpse of a tattoo from under the sleeve of his left arm. The jacket is especially extravagant, threaded with gold buttons and woven thread down the lapels. He’s a lot more polished-looking than the guy at the ticket booth.

There’s something similar in the way his eyes land on you though. His gaze is gone again as soon as it touches you. His smile keeps on spreading, a puddle seeping through the sand floor at his feet, reaching, tendrilous, for the bleachers.

Music starts behind him, light and bouncy like the kind of sounds a carousel plays. He peeks backwards, and returns his gaze to the audience with a knowing grin.

“Sounds like my friends are excited to meet you all,” He says quietly. Then, he smiles and waves the idea off. The music stops with a beat. “They’ll have their turn. First, I have something to share with you all.”

He’s a hell of a magician. Captivating, really, the way he manages to keep track of the packed room. He’s everywhere, and aware of everything at once. During a trick in which he made a rabbit disappear, not into a hat, but into the very back of the crowd — someone near you began to whisper their theories. You don’t know how he heard what they said, but you know that it wasn’t an accident when that rabbit peed in their lap.

Beneath the awe and wonder of his run-of-the-mill magic routine, there’s something inexplicable. Something in the way he maneuvers; the way he smiles like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. All magicians are, you guess, but this is different.

The show flows on beyond him, performers emerging from the shadows with knowing looks on their faces. All of them hold onto that punchline through their tricks and trials, their mind-bending illusions and death-defying stunts.

It doesn’t stop with the appearance of the face you had been hoping to see. As he takes the stage, twisting a flaming staff expertly to a drumbeat so loud that it feels like it rattles your brain itself, he too is in on the joke. He throws the burning stick into the air. As it flips and spins, he takes a moment to look out across the crowd.

With the thundering drum beat, the orange glow of the flame, the sweat beading down his chest, the crowd hangs in anticipation as the object hurtles back down towards him. Searching through the sea of faces, a calm smile settles onto his face. He leans back, opens his palm, and catches the burning staff before it strikes him.

As much as his performance strikes an interest in you, you’re concerned that it might spark an interest in Georgie for a different reason.

Once he has returned into the same shadow behind the curtain that they all come from, there’s something that lingers with you. A delusional sense of hope, maybe, that because he looked at you once, he would do it again.

The evening’s entertainment draws to an end with another visit from the Ringmaster. With his unnaturally blue eyes and his stretching, tendriled smile, he bids Atwood goodnight. The last ones in are the first ones out, the Big Top becomes more shadow than human as the sea of faces filter out into the fairground.

“That was awesome!” Your little brother declares, throwing his hands up into the air in balled fists. “Could we come again?”

Oh, you’re planning on it. Golden Boy’s act alone is enough to guarantee you a return spot. Later tonight, when you’re alone and in bed, you’ll be thinking of the way his aptly golden biceps flex as he curls back to nail the tip of the blade into the center of the target from a distance.

Come Monday morning, Olive will be hearing all about how she missed the way sweat beads at his chest when he’s doing that fire show.

“Yeah, maybe,” You shrug. “If Fred’s okay with it.”

Fred’s okay with everything. Georgie grins, and then remembers the condition of him being allowed to go tonight.

“Oh, wait. I have to buy you something.” He remembers, shoving his hand deep into his pocket to confirm he still has his sweaty handful of change.

Fred will check to make sure, otherwise you’d tell him to keep his money for another day. You smile, and shrug once more, looking around.

“I’ll take a Coke.” You tell him. The stand is right in front of you. It’s not that far away and even with the crowds, you shouldn’t have any issues spotting the red and orange stripes on Georgie’s shirt. You were younger than him and venturing further by yourself. You don’t think twice before letting him rush off ahead of you.

He knows exactly where you’ll be waiting for him. Just to the left of the shadowy entrance to the Big Top, you push your fingers into the tight front pockets of your jeans, looking towards the inky-indigo evening sky.

It’s getting colder, now. You’re too old for your mother to remind you to take a jacket these days. Your boots trail in the mud, starting up an even and uniformed route to pace along for warmth. Georgie waits patiently at the back of the concessions line.

An evening breeze bristles at your exposed arms and carries the smell of burning tobacco. You turn your head sharply to the left, and crane your neck. The fields around the fairground are pitch black, like this pasture is the only thing around.

The smell has you wandering just a little further, around the wide bend of the Big Top, you squint through the shadows and light up just like the Ferris Wheel behind you.

Illuminated by the orange glow at the end of his cigarette, lurking in the shadows, he’s already looking at you by the time you spot him. Wearing the same black slacks he had worn for the show, the string lights behind you catch on the gold of his necklace. Your lips twitch as he smiles across at you.

The cigarette sticks between his lips like it just wants to be there as his lips stretch wide. His cheeks hollow a bit as he puffs at it, sweat drying on his skin and prickling the blonde hairs on his arms.

Watching you wander his way, he can’t help but smile back at you. Friendly is kind of his thing when it comes to this place. After all, you came all the way out here to see him, it’s the least he could do.

“Evenin’,” He drawls, Western in more than just the way he’s dressed, as he pushes up from where he was hiding to smoke against the Zoltar machine. He saunters towards you, the light catching his skin and making it glisten like real gold as he steps into the light.

“Evening.” You greet right back, lips catching on a grin. You straighten up like he’s somebody important and that makes him smile right back at you, the bridge of his straight nose wrinkling with enjoyment.

Taking his cigarette from his lips, it settles between his index and middle fingers, then lowers to hang around his waist. His inky-black, dress-pant adorned waist. The same as he was wearing during the show. Those things don’t fit like the kind of suits you usually see — the ones you’re familiar with end just above the belly button. His sit so slow on his waist that you can see the black band of his underwear.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can.

He hasn’t changed yet, he always sneaks out back for a smoke before he heads out to make himself known around the fair. Tips come rolling in if he makes himself friendly. That’s not why he’s here, hiding in the shadows, with you.

“So, how’d you like the show?” He asks. His cigarette wobbles between his lips in a real Clint Eastwood kind of way. The gold crucifix on his necklace slips on the chain as he moves, revealing a dark ink etched into his skin below. A cross, tattooed onto his skin, just between his collarbones at the base of his throat. The same as is on his necklace.

You tear your eyes away from his chest and look him in the eye. Georgie would pitch a fit if you asked to bum a cigarette. Really, you only smoke with Olive, anyway. “It was cool. My brother loved it.”

“And you?” He prompts, placing the cigarette back between his lips and inhaling deeply. Like he finds oxygen in the smoke, as if he’d been holding his breath since the last hit. He quirks an eyebrow at you as he lets the breath sit on his chest.

He knows he’s good looking, clearly — you can see that in the way he juts his hips out before he walks like a cowboy does. But, you can play too. You shrug at him, suddenly coy.

“It was alright.”

A breathy chuckle slips his lips.

“Yeah?” He beams at you, all intrigue and amusement, green eyes glinting as the neon lights of the fairground rides illuminate his face. “You’ve seen better?”

Oh, you like the way he plays. You trail towards him, slipping into the shadows of the Big Top. Close enough now that you can smell him; sweat, smoke and an equally smoky cologne. It smells expensive, for a carnie.

Your shrug is a balance between ditsy and daring that particularly seems to strike a chord of interest within him. “Still holdin’ out for the best, is all.”

Smirking around the growingly short cigarette, he puffs at it once more and plucks it from his lips again. Tall, broad and muscled all over — he must have served before. A bit older than you, he’d probably be the right age for it. He carries himself calmer than the other Vets you’ve seen. He doesn’t have that look in his eyes.

He’s what they should all look like, if they’d gotten to age like normal.

“Smart girl.” He decides, rolling it between his fingertips for a second. You watch as he drops it into the dirt and stubs it out with his boot. Green eyes on you once again, a flash of neon crosses his face as the ride roars into action once more. “I’ll see you.”

He says it like he knows it to be a certainty, taking a step back. His usual after- show ritual will continue with or without you. Next comes an outfit change and a spritz of cologne, then some Front of House showboating.

“Don’t you have a name?” You prompt him, brows drawing together as he wanders backwards.

He grins. “Jake.”

Jake. He even says his own name like he likes the sound of it. Like he thinks you’ll like the sound of it. Backwards, his boots fall into line behind each other; you don’t even realise you’re following him until his footprints are the only ones in the mud anymore.

Jake’ll be seeing you. You’ll be seeing Jake. It seems set already.

“Excuse me.” You turn and look over your shoulder, a muscle in your neck catching as you do a wide-eyed double take and spin.

One hand on a red and orange striped t-shirt, is the man of mystery himself. Standing tall, especially tall, taller than he had looked driving along the road that day, is Mr. Movie Star, stone-faced. Wearing a white vest with an unbuttoned blue overshirt and rolled blue jeans, he looks even better than before.

When he hadn’t turned up in the show, you’d started to think that you had imagined him. Speeding along that country-road with his sunglasses low on the bridge of his nose and the prettiest smile you’d ever seen.

Well, here he is. He doesn’t look half as happy to see you.

Your brows furrow as your gaze falls down to where his hand sits. Georgie’s shoulders heave with a shuddering, relieved sigh, tears burning in his eyes as he stares back at you with a glass Coke bottle trembling in his hand.

“I think you lost something.” The man of your dreams tells you, stone-faced, cold.

“Shit.” You whisper, and Georgie doesn’t even consider scolding you. He looks up at the man who had helped him find you, and heads for you instantly. “You okay? What happened?”

“I turned around and I couldn’t see you.” Even though he’s older now, right on the verge of being grown, his voice trembles and you remember he’s not like you were. He’s scared of the dark and he sleeps with a stuffed tiger and night; he’s sweeter than you’ve ever been.

He goes to wrap his arms around your middle and you welcome him with a one-armed embrace.

The guy from the road is still watching you. His hair is tousled and his shoulders are stretching out that overshirt, his cheeks are warm and pink. Eyes dark, he eyeballs you from boots to earrings.

“Thanks,” You can’t help but take a look behind you. Jake is long gone already. You smile softly in polite gratitude. “Sorry, I just — took my eye off him for a second.”

His eyes linger on your face, a silent second too long. The wait almost makes you squirm on the spot, wondering if he recognises you, if he’s mad at you. Finally, he meets Georgie’s gaze and shoots him a cool shrug. “It’s all gravy.”

Georgie unravels himself from you and pushes the Coke bottle into your hand, and you hold off on pushing him away by his face to get to know his knight in shining armour.

“Have a good night, little buddy.” With another nod of acknowledgement, the handsome man makes no effort to sugarcoat the bluntness of his tone. He drops one boot backwards and moves to turn away.

Now, you haven’t been jealous of Georgie too many times in his life so far, and not many older siblings can say that. But on this occasion, you’ve barely been graced with two sentences and Georgie’s all of a sudden been awarded a nickname? — Not gravy.

“Thanks, again.” You call out in a moment of panic. It happens before you have a chance to develop something as cool as your exchange with Jake. Then again, Jake had seemed to want to speak to you. The Movie Star turns and looks at you over his shoulder, barely giving you a second of eye contact as acknowledgement as he plucks his cigarettes from his pocket.

They sure do smoke a lot for people surrounded by canvas and gas-guzzling generators.

“I really appreciate it.” You continue, cursing yourself, curling one hand into Georgie’s shirt as you follow after him. He closes his eyes, rolling them into the back of his skull as he hears you hurrying behind him. “He’s always wandering off.”

“No, I—“ Georgie struggles as your arm wraps around his scrawny shoulders, hugging him to your side and covering his mouth.

“Really, it was no sweat.” His lighter clicks open and ignites, then flips shut and disappears back into his pocket. Not so much as a look in your direction at this point.

You really should cut your losses and take Jake as your win — you can’t have them both anyway. The Movie Star’s lips almost twitch. Cut your losses and take Jake— he likes that.

“I didn’t see you in the show,” You continue anyway, something unnatural in the way you’re itching for him to so much as look in your direction. It’s been a while since you last saw action. “So, you like… work here?”

Idiot. You cringe, and even Georgie looks up at you in unimpressed wonder.

“You could call me security.” Smoke curls around him, leaving you five paces of dirt road behind. You make a face at him from behind. He’s not as friendly as the others, who have now emerged from the shadows to greet their fans. Instead, he walks ahead, skulking under the string lights like he’s silently hating them for illuminating him at all.

You cut your losses at once, stopping in his tracks, pursing your lips. Jerk.

Georgie struggles at your side and you’re reminded to let him go from the pseudo-headlock you’ve squeezed him into. The man of your dreams, the perfect movie star to fit into your Napa Valley retirement plans, disappears into the crowds of people.

You’re stuck on that day by the road. He had seemed into you then, grinning across at you like you were the bee’s knees, shooting you that easy-breezy peace sign. Maybe it was the halter top he liked.

“Can we go on the Ferris Wheel now?” Your younger brother reminds you of the real reason you’re supposed to be there, standing in the O’Malley’s south pasture past his bedtime. Flattening out your frown and sticking your fingers into his hair, you nod your head.

“Yeah. Come on, just don’t pee your pants.”

So, your Saturday night didn’t go exactly how you had pictured it. You’re not too sure what you were really expecting of the two guys you’d seen just once. But, your little brother is still grinning and talking a hundred miles a minute when you get back home that night, and that counts for something.

You’re perched on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs and snacking on a slice of sugar-sweet clementine. The waning light overhead almost makes you forget how dark it had been beside that Big Top — how you’d found Jake all alone.

“The I-75 thing didn’t work out?” Fred whispers to you, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he pats your shoulder and passes by to drop his last beer bottle for the night into the recycling. You look back at him and smile while Georgie whittles on and on and on.

“Alright, alright,” Joan hushes, tucking her reading glasses into her hairline and giving up on her magazine to devote her attention to her youngest. “You can tell us all about it in the morning. I think you’d better head on up to bed for now.”

He closes his mouth and looks around the lemon yellow kitchen. Fred’s no help, and neither are you. He huffs and gives in to the idea of bedtime.

Dutifully, he hugs both of your parents tonight and heads for the hallway. He doesn’t head to bed before he has peered back around the doorframe and smiled back, thanking you for taking him.

The stairs groan, the hallway creeks and Georgie’s door wheezes shut. Everything about this house talks.

“Oh, I’m going to need my bag back for work on Monday, sweetheart.” Joan remembers, packing up her Cosmopolitan and dirty Martini set up from the kitchen table. Rollers in and green, mint-smelling face-mask smeared around her features, your mother has Saturday night rituals of her own.

And, you don’t have a bag.

You had one. You had taken your mother’s brown shoulder bag that she takes to work even though it fits a little more than a wallet and some keys on a good day. Shit, your wallet too.

“Sure.” You answer tightly. “Let me clear my stuff, you can have it tomorrow.”

The curiosities of a mother cross her mind, but a girl’s gotta have her secrets. She smiles and gives your bicep an affectionate squeeze as she heads for the stairs. “Okie dokie. Don’t be up too late.”

You wince at the thought of her bag being somewhere in that South pasture unattended, or gone by now. Probably rifled through. You hope there weren’t any receipts in there — she gets awfully protective about her receipts.

“Tell me the bag’s in the car.” Fred says from behind you as the groan of the stairs grows faint and the creeks of the hallway ready to start. You pivot cautiously towards him, still grimacing. He presses his lips into a line and shakes his head. “You’d best get out there and find it before she finds out, kiddo.”

“Mhm. Planning on it.” You answer with a sigh.

Really, it’s not such a bad thing, you think to yourself. You could go back there tomorrow without all those crowds, without Georgie. Maybe do the whole damsel in distress thing and see which one of them comes running with your misplaced bag.

Closing your eyes and twisting onto your side, you spot the pointed, red canvas top of the tent from your window. All of the neons are gone now, powered down for the night. They’re over there, just beyond the stretch of those woods. Jake, and the one who hates you.

…

NEXT CHAPTER

TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

tags: @sunflowercharlie13 @spinning-away @eloquentdreamer-blog1 @a-reader-and-a-writer @breezyweazybeezy @mel119g @hersuitisbanana @one-sweet-gubler @atarmychick007 @ximehs @nnatel @topherwrites @seitmai @yepyeahuhhuh @cherrycola27 @ohtobeleah @roosterbruiser

[harrysmimi]

My Missus

Synopsis: One where Harry admits to have a girlfriend on a talk show

CW: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos)

Pls pls make sure you leave a like and reblog if you'd like xx

Series Masterlist | More of my work

YN's never been this happy in her life before!

She didn't know how a year and half went by with Harry. Obviously it's not been all rainbows and sunshine and unicorns and cotton candy but whatever it came her wat she cherished with her life. Because almost half of the time Harry was on tour all over in US and Asia, she gets to attend few of his shows as well.

Now she's got someone who shows her respect and love her for who she is!

Harry's recently released his third studio album which she helped write a few songs for. It was a swift process as he had his muse by his side, he said to her. And god has it been breaking records after records!

Alas, Harry was back in London but for a few days before he heads off to Manchester and tour all over Europe.

It was his birthday and he requested they spend it at home together. YN had baked him a little cake which was chilling in the fridge as they lounged in her living room, half dressed from their morning shenanigans, him sat there just in his boxers. A nice Sunday afternoon.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow, love?" Harry asked. YN was sat in front of him on the sofa of her flat which have become a home for him from past couple of months now, as he painted her nails to match his.

"Yeah, I've taken the day off for tomorrow." She nodded watching him so concentrated that he doesn't get anything on her cuticles. "Your mum has called me over for lunch with your sister, a girls day in she called it."

"You know sometimes I get jealous how well you get along with my mother." He shared, his curls flopped down on his forehead. She'd somehow convinced him to not cut his hair.

"Awh! That so sad, isn't it?" YN cooed teasing him.

Anne has been nothing but sweet to YN since day they met on Gemma's birthday. Though that was very early when YN met her but they bumped in getting dinner at the same restaurant. Harry was taking his sister out on a nice dinner with his mum and Gemma's boyfriend tagged along. YN was there with her friends.

Totally unplanned for but everything went by smoothly. And what was there to love about YN? Harry wondered. He honestly doesn't know how and why fell for her. He just did. It just happened.

"But that sounds fun," he added quickly. It wasn't the first time YN has shared about hanging out with him mum or sister and it honestly warmed his heart to see and hear that. Especially when either of the women in his life has been so open to accept anyone he's dated in their lives this much.

"Mhmm. Gemma suggested we should all go get our hair done, she's been wanting to change her hair colour but she is confused. I was thinking about getting a hair cut too." YN shared.

"Yeah?" Harry glanced at her with a grin on his face, "what haircut are you planning to get?"

"I don't know, I kinda want to get bangs again. But it's too much work." YN contemplated. "I'll just get a little chop."

"Don't cut off your hair!" He exclaimed, "been begging me to not cut mine, you can't do that either!"

"You look cute with long hair!" She defended, "and I'm talking about just a little trim." Harry was done with giving her a nice manicure, looking proud of the little green heart he'd drawn over off white base. "That's so cute! Thank you Harry!"

"You're welcome, baby." He smiled, started putting away stuff on the coffee table.

"Oh, oh, oh, I forgot." YN got up and ram to the bedroom which they now share leaving him confused. She came back with a small paper bag in her hand. "A little birthday present for you."

"I told you to not get me anything, love." Harry gasped.

"Mhmm I did the same but you still got me present last year." She reminded him, "open it, open it!"

"What is it?" He took the bag, there was a little ring box in it. "YN, you really didn't had to lovie!"

"No, shush! Just open it!" She scolded him and did just that. There was a pretty signet ring with a gorgeous purple stone and silver band.

"This is so pretty." He pulled out the the piece of jewelry, "what stone is it?"

"Amethyst. Do you like it?" She beamed at him watching his reaction.

"I love it, sweetheart, thank you so much." Harry cooed, his voice soft.

"Wear wear it on your third finger, left hand." She shared.

"Any specific reason?" He slid the ring on the exact finger she said.

"I don't know about that. It's just that Amethyst just helps with creating like a good and zen mood, and like help with anxiety and stuff - I wear it too you know - basically it's calm you down." She started explaining, "my parents got me this ring when I was teenager." She showed him the ring he'd always seen her wear, "because I was starting to lash out on everyone, they thought I was like possessed or something. Our family astrologer said to get one made for me with silver to help with that. But anyway, that's not why I got it for you. I thought it might help as you said you get a little anxious before your shows. And a new piece to add to your collection. And it's also your birth stone!" She ended her rambling with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Awh!" He chuckled, "thank you so much, darling, I love how much thought you put into this. We can match now!"

"Oh, yeah!" She realised looking down at her own hand.

"Aren't you the sweetest little thing!" He pulled her in a bear hug cooing to her. "You're my own Amethyst, this is just a little cherry on top." YN was too shy to say anything so she resorted to just giggle. He'd managed to get her straddling his lap. "I love you."

"I love you." She pulled away to give him a kiss on his mouth. "So much. Thank you for being constant in my life that I've been looking for forever. I can't imagine myself without you."

"I'm not going anywhere," an adorable smirk creeping up on the corner of his lips, "you don't have to imagine that. I'm here with you for as long as you'd like to have me. You've given me a ring and now you're stuck with me."

"That doesn't sound bad."

"No it doesn't." He agreed, "would you like it if we move in together? We can get a place of our own somewhere a little private, I know my house has become a tourist attraction now."

"Or we can stay here." She suggested, "we've basically been living together. For now, we can stay here no one really knows where I stay. We can get a place maybe in future?"

Even thought gave him butterflies. He had never lived with anyone before. Thought of making it more legit and move in with her all together made his heart jumping in his ears. To finally and openly call her flat their home which has always felt like home to him.

It isn't as grand or as big as his own property, YN says, but he could say otherwise. It was just perfect for two people to live together which also had enough room to give each other personal space. That's more than enough.

"Yeah?" His cheeks were starting to hirt from how much he was smiling, "maybe when we're married?"

"Yeah." She nods. "When we're married!"

"You want to get married?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?" She shrugged, "do you?"

"I don't see myself not doing that." He admitted kissing her tenderly, "it's good we're on same page."

"Okay, now stop we have a cake waiting in the fridge." She stopped whatever he was trying to lead on.

"Come on it's my birthday." He looked at her with faux-puppy eyes, being sneaky with his wandering hands. Stroking his hand on soft of her bare thighs, slipping under her (his) sweat shirt she had threw on after their post-breakfast shenanigans. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," she nodded.

"Just as I expected," he smirked sitting straight with his hand on the back of her neck pulled her down slotting their mouths together. Cutting to chase, his tongue slipped past her lips getting the taste of her. His moan was lost in her mouth at gentle rut of her hips against his own. "God you're gonna be death of me!" He groaned pulling away from her mouth breathing out another moan.

"It's your birthday we wouldn't want that." She teased him.

"If you don't want that you should definitely take this off, it's only fair." He suggested, already tugging the piece of garment of her. He almost managed to get her sweatshirt over her head before her phone started ringing in the other room. "Were you expecting a call?"

"No," she shook her head getting off his lap after he'd adjusted her clothes properly letting her go.

YN saw it was face time from Alec, upon answering she found Brielle was on a conference call. Alec went on about his video, Brielle calling him weird names for bragging about it their usual shenanigans. All fun and jokes continued for next ten minutes before Brielle talked about sharing something.

"Before she goes on, we know it's your boyfriend's birthday but she just can't keep it in her stomach for a day longer." Alec gave YN a disclaimer.

"What is going on?" YN asked.

"I am engaged!" Brielle screamed showing YN her ring.

"What the fuck?" YN squealed.

"Yes! Ben proposed last night!" The blonde shared.

"Oh my god, Brielle! I am so happy for you!" She couldn't contain herself. "What!"

"Wait, wait, wait, there is more!" Alec butted in, taking YN by surprise.

"Oh, Hi Harry!" Brielle said making YN look behind. Harry was there with a shirt on. "Happy Birthday!"

"Hello, how are you? I heard squealing here, everything alright?" Harry said.

"I got engaged last night!" Brielle gave him the new as well.

"Awh! Congratulations, darling!" Harry cooed. All the YN could feel his hard on pressed to her lower back. He got worked up, hasn't he, YN wondered.

"And..." Brielle said picking up something from in front of her. "I am pregnant!"

"Oh my god!" YN gasped, "slow down girlie!"

"No, no, that was her surprise for Ben. But little did either of them knew both of them called me up before to help with the surprise." Alec said, "it was like two birds with one stone!"

"You sneaky little shits, didn't even tell me about a thing!" YN huffed.

"Yeah? You were seeing Harry Styles behind our back for months before you told us!" Brielle pointed out.

"Touché!" Harry agreed with her just to tease his girl.

"Anyway, I have to go I'll talk you all later." Alec said, "Harry, Happy Birthday to you bestie!"

"Yes, yes, I have an appointment. Happy Birthday, Harry. Bye bye!"

"Thank you!" Harry smiled. YN hung up the call with her friends and put her phone back on charge.

"Oh god!" She squealed watching Harry towering over her, taking steps back.

"Left me hanging there." He pouted but he kept walking forward until she was flushed against the wall behind her, beside her dresser.

"I got a call, didn't mean to." She genuinely got upset for doing that to him.

"No, baby I'm just joking." He rushed, giggling softly he pressed a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Do you still want to continue?" A cheeky smile over his face.

"Mhmm!" She agreed. "I want."

"C'mon." He walked her to their bed, making her sit back down he took off the shirt he'd put on just so he can could check on her and her friend squealing, it would have been indecent if he walked in on their face time chat just in his boxers. He resumed to do the same to her, waiting for a moment to get her approval. Being careful of the neckline. "Hi."

"Hi." She chuckled watching him keep the jumper close by. Little thing he'd been concious about to not throw her shirt away as she gets cold easily. He approached her with a kiss on her mouth, as he carefully lied her back. Making sure she'd comfortable on her pillow.

"You still want this? You aren't still sore from last night, right?" He enquired.

"I want it," she assured him, "please?"

"You're getting it, gorgeous," he cooed to her. Cutting to chase, he pushed his boxers down as well as her panties. His fingers skimming over her core to meet with her wet fold, that earned him a breathy moan from her in attempt. "You ready?"

"Yeah." His hand still between them, as he grabbed onto his cock slipping through her fold with ease her feel her tightly wrap around him. He felt her shuddering under him just at that. "Move!" She sounded. Enough for him to pull out enough and buck his hips into her in gentle thrusts. Feeling warm and close, pushed him to the edge already if it weren't for how worked up he got waiting for his girl to get off the phone call with her friends.

"Oh my baby," he sighed dropping his head in the crook of her neck, comforting her as he heard her little whimpers, "fuck!"

Harry felt her press a few kisses on his face. "Oh god- Harry. Faster please!" She managed to convey between each puffs of oxytocin in her brain followed by each of his thrusts. He picked up his pace enough for her satisfaction, she wrapped her arms around his middle to find a balance, her nails racking on his skin in attempt.

"Jesus, baby I'm not gonna last!" He punctuated his little announcement with a sigh of his moan, a growl she decided it was rumbling through his chest. "Are you close? Need you to cum with me baby love."

"Getting, getting there." She nodded, stuttering through her speech.

"I can't- fucking christ!- I can't..." He whimpered. Her walls clenching around him making it much harder for him to chase her.

"Cum for me, please, Harry." She urged him. "Please?" With his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, he came down on his orgasm hard spurting his cum inside her until his cock softened again. Their mouths pressed together to drown their noises, his cock was replaced by his fingers. "Ah! Harry!"

"Can't leave my baby hanging, can I, hm?" He cooed to her, "been so good to me. Can already feel you clenching around me fingers." His fingers worked faster hitting just her right spot and be knew exactly what he was doing to her, making her squirt as she came down of her own high. Grateful of the towels they had splayed on their bed from last night.

Harry brought up fingers to her mouth, pushing past her kiss lips be watched her suck them clean. Thin sheen of sweat over her face had him groaning, he swore he'd fucked a real angel and now she's sucking their cum off his fingers.

Feeling oh so tired, he plopped on his spot next to her. "C'mere, angel." He coaxed her closer to him so she wouldn't get cold. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Just need a minute." She shared, her head rested on his chest. "Are you having a good birthday?"

"Most amazing one I've had." He corrected her, "thank you for the present, sweetheart, really love it!" She just pressed a kiss on his collar bone.

YN wasn't big on recieving thank yous. Especially from him and her friends. She did the things she did nit expecting a thank you in return, it made her weird she said. But Harry is for sure never going to take off the ring she got him. She draped her arm and leg over him cuddling closer.

"Was it too rough last night, baby?" He enquired, carelessly running his hand down her side to the full of her ass feeling her bare skin. "Are you sore anywhere?"

"Not from last night." She admitted, "and I liked it."

"Yeah, you did?" He smiled, "but you've gotta tell me if it's too much, okay lovie?"

"I will, I will." She agreed.

"Why are you sore?"

"In my joints, it happens when the weather is changing." She shared.

"Did you have an appointment with your doctor recently?" Lately he's been accompanying her to her doctors visit as many times as he could between his schedule. He figured she tends to forget a few things her doctor says, so he took it upon himself to go with her. Or it is usually Brielle going with her when he can't.

"No, it's next Friday."

"You want me to go with you? Can come back from Manchester." He suggested.

"Yes, please." She lifted her head up to look at him, "I want to take a warm bath now. Join me?"

"Lay here, okay? I'll go run us a bath then."

......................................................................

YN's day out with Anne and Gemma was amazing.

They were talking about the videos YN sent in their group chat of Harry decorating his own birthday cake and struggled every moment of it. Getting frosting everywhere, dressed in his purple bathrobe. Gemma was having a field day making fun of him in the group chat.

The girls got their hair done. Gemma finally deciding to dye her hair with blue highlights and getting curtain bangs getting inspired by YN. Anne just got her hair trimmed and styled, she looked stunning!

YN could really see how much Harry resembles to his mother. It was creepily adorable to her how look alike they were, knowing very well that's how genes work. The way they both talk and behave are just so similar, Harry just got a little lazy undertone to his voice.

"Oh, YN did you see Harry's fans have been suspicious about him seeing someone in secret?" Gemma asked, "I know you're not on Twitter and Harry doesn't go online much, just wanted to give you a little head up. People online can be brutal. But honestly his fans loves you even though they don't know you yet."

"Mhmm, I saw those too." Anne chimed in, "there are pictures of you two from Louvre last month."

"Hmm?!" YN couldn't believe it. The few Harry update account she'd been following for ages haven't posted any of those on their feed. She didn't know about that.

"Yeah." Gemma nodded, "we're going to show after this. And anyone says anything mean to you, you tell me about it!"

YN chuckled, "I will, I will."

......................................................................

Before the show started the girls headed to the Wembley stadium. It was jam packed with Harry's fan screaming to the show opener's songs and even pre set playlist.

Waiting for Harry was a bore honestly, Gemma said. So they took many selfies and pictures. YN gonna show each one of those Harry later tonight when they get back home. But alas he got up on the stage, ten minutes late!

The back of the pit was open, just a few guards stood around. Especially next to Anne, Gemma and YN and other of Harry's friends visiting. He'd also invited YN's friends to the show.

"YN!" Brielle squealed.

"Bri!" YN hugged her, "oh my god I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," the blonde cooed hugging her best friend back.

Gemma was YN's date as Harry was literally working and ber friends were accompanied by their Fiancés. Yup, both her friends are engaged. Alec proposed his girlfriend of five years on their graduation day. YN couldn't be happier for both of her best friends. But Gemma kept her company as they danced to Harry singing.

Just just Harry climbed on the sound box during Medicine making his fans go crazy and his family and friends stood in the back laugh. YN just hoped he doesn't hurt himself, he didn't so that was good.

"Oh my, he is going to hurt himself someday." Gemma said. YN's sure she's planning to give him some scolding.

"It's okay, he's fine. He just needs a wired mic." YN assured her making her laugh out loud.

After the show like planned they all went to have dinner. Harry have been meaning to do so, to get to know her friends better. They had an amazing time to say the least, apart from little threats he got from her friends if he hurts YN in anyway. They were both mostly joking.

......................................................................

Harry was finally done with his tour for the hear, he was home. YN got home from work, Harry had begged her for attention and cuddles. Having her pinned to the sofa along with him.

"Brielle is already showing a tiny bit, she said she's having twins she told her!" YN shared, as she showed Harry pictures she took with ber friends at Brielle's little gender reveal. They looked through the posts on Instagram and Harry's fans making fun of him for the way he was being a little monkey on stage on his last show with a wireless mic. "That's insane!"

"Yeah? Identical or Fraternal?" Harry found her excitement pretty adorable. She was lied there basically on top of him with her back pressed on his chest, he held her tightly.

"Fraternal, I think she said but both are boys." YN wondered not remembering what Brielle shared.

"What do you want for dinner? I wanna cook something for you." He smiled, she lifted her head to look at him, "I won't burn down our kitchen don't worry."

"I hope you don't," she nodded.

"Babe that happened once!" He defended himself. When he went to make YN and himself some tea and accidentally let the tea simmer off all over the stove that the flame went off. "You can supervise me."

"We have some pasta, you can make that." YN suggested, "spaghetti maybe? I think there is some spaghetti sauce or we can order a jar if not."

"You really keep me humble, really need that." He chuckled, she really doesn't want him near the stove. Just as she was about to say something the door bell went off.

"Yeah, and your wired mic back." She commented before getting up to go check the door but she wasn't quick enough before she felt a smack on her bum.

"Cheeky!" He exclaimed.

YN laughed. She opened the door to find her neighbour there. "Oh Hi, Deniz, how are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good." He said. "My roommate and I made some Pide, thought to share with our neighbour." He offered her a plate china plate with delicious food.

"Hmm, thank you." YN accepted, "what is Pide?" Looking at what she can make is a boat shaped pizza.

"It's Turkish dish, like a, uhh, pizza you can say. This one has eggs and this one has sausage on it." Deniz explained. "Hope you enjoy them."

"Yeah, thank you." YN nodded.

"Bye."

"Bye." YN waved at him and shut her door after he got in his flat.

"Who was it darling?" Harry called from kitchen, he was looking at things in the fridge.

"The new neighbour." YN said, "we are offered some Turkish delicacies."

"Oh, our neighbours are pretty nice. Except Mrs. White at front." Harry smiled, "what is it?"

"He said it's like a Turkish pizza." YN shrugged. "And I get her, we were being too loud that day!"

Harry didn't liked the old lady who lived in the flat right across from YN's (now their home), she knocked on the door the morning after he can came back from his Asia tour scolding them for being loud. Even threatening to call the cops as it was the second time. Since then they've been very tame with their sexual activities.

"Yeah, like she didn't when she was younger."

"Oh my god Harry, give her a break." YN laughed. "You go at it like a freaking rabbit."

"I go at it like a rabbit? Like you don't participate." He scoffed, "you're the loudest one, which I don't mind."

"Oh my," YN rolled her eyes because there was no denying on the first part of his argument, "she'll move out in three months after her lease is over."

"How do you know that?"

"The day I moved in she came in to deliver her set of rules, there she told he how long she's been living here and stuff." YN explained, "and she said she doesn't have the energy to deal with my shenanigans if I were to bring home people every night like every other college student who live on the floor." Though YN never brought anyone home with her, except her friends a couple of times and now Harry.

"Oh, she's exhausted then." Harry giggled picking up A slice of Pide from the plate. "There is enough to make the sauce from scratch in the fridge, would need to go grocery shopping. This is not going to be enough for us."

"Okay." YN nodded. Harry got to preparing to make the sauce for the pasta.

"You know I was thinking," he started.

"What are you thinking?" YN asked as she washed up few dishes in the sink from lunch time.

"Maybe we should go on a vacation?" He suggested, "need a little break before I start filming for Eternals."

"Vacation? Where?"

"Wherever you please," he shrugged. "We can do it for your birthday."

"I, ehm, I am sorry I don't know if I can really afford a vacation right now." She explained.

"Baby," he dropped the knife on the counter before he walked upto her, "you don't have to worry about it, yeah? I said I wanna take you somewhere for your birthday." He hugged her from behind.

"I'd feel too bad!"

"Why would you feel bad? I am your boyfriend, I have the right to take my girlfriend out."

"Exactly, I'm your girlfriend not your sugar baby, so you don't have to pay for my vacation." YN placed the last dish on the drying rack and turned around to face him.

"It's not that, sweetheart, I promise." He assured her, "usually I go alone out somewhere for sometime after tour. But I'm not alone, am I now?"

"No you're not," she smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah? Then will you think about it?" He asked, feeling excited already.

"Yeah." She agreed.

"Though I wouldn't mind to be your sugar daddy." He teased, tickling her sides

"I'll need a Versace bag and the new Louis Vuitton collection for that to happen." YN said, of course adding to his teasing jokingly.

"Thought you'd say you want something from Gucci!" He acted hurt.

"Not everyone is obsessed with Gucci like you, Harry." She booped the tip of his nose with her pointer finger.

"But I am obsessed with you!" He corrected her, making her chuckle sheepishly.

Harry just laughed watching her blush dipped his head down to place a tender kiss on her mouth before they both got to making dinner.

He had put on her dance playlist on her phone, they laughed when the Spotify add started playing interrupting their fun. But none the less they danced around the kitchen. Harry singing along to Elvis as they waited for the water to boil to cook the pasta, he pulled YN closer to him with his arms snaked around her waist swaying them both to the soft tunes of Can't Help Falling In Love because he really couldn't.

"I love you so much." He mumbled to her like they weren't home alone, as it if it were his little secret, as if he wanted to be selfish and keep it to himself. His forehead rested on her, noses skimming close into soft kitten kiss.

"I love you too."

......................................................................

Another day at work YN was having a fairly good day. Excited to go back home and watch new season of the show with her boyfriend. She had been holding off to watch the show for Harry. Just as she was about to wrap up her shift by taking the last order, her older brother walked in.

"Hello." He said, smiling.

"What can I get you?" YN smiled back, keeping it professional.

"It's bit late for coffee, if you're done can we talk?" He asked politely.

YN nodded, "wait outside." She quickly wrapped up for the day amd clocked out. Walked out to see her brother stood there waiting for her. "What do you want?"

"Hey, be nice." He whined, "I came to see my sister, can't I?"

"What do you need help with?" YN trued to cut to the chase.

"You think I'm like Mumma and Baba, don't you?" He sighed, "look there are few things I want to you to know about, it's important. It's better you know from family than anywhere else."

"What is it then?" She asked.

"Come on let's go get dinner and well talk about it." He suggested. YN contemplated and hesitated but agreed.

"Okay, I'll drive there. Need to inform my boyfriend."

"You've got a boyfriend?" He chuckled not believing. YN just kept her head down and walked to her car sending a quick text to Harry explaining that she won't be coming home for dinner, that her brother came to see her. To which he sent a quick okay and a little Enjoy baby!.

Harry at home, took time to himself. Cleaned around the flat a little and picked up the dirty laundry he tends to leave everywhere and annoy YN. He did both their laundry and cooked dinner himself as she won't be joining him.

Though it made him a little anxious for his girl when she mentioned that she's going to get dinner with her brother. She didn't mention which brother it was. As far he knows her little brother is a complete asshole, he'd seen him a few times, calling YN up to lend him cash or pick him up from somewhere and whatever he might need help with, throw tantrums like a little toddler when YN refuse to help him.

She had told him so much about her family, that they all lived in a big joint family — a typical Indian household she expects —, with both her grandparents, her parents and all of her siblings. Before her older sister got married and though his older is married too now, he still lives with their parents with his wife. It was a pretty common custom he reckoned.

YN was the middle child in between two sets of twins. An older sister and brother and younger sister and brother. And essential like every stereotypical middle child she was neglected. If not neglected then always looked down upon. Why? Because her older siblings were much mature and listen to everything her parents asked them or told them to, and her younger siblings? Well, they're always excused and as they're young and dumb.

Growing up YN felt pressure to be good enough to make her parents proud and be a good example for her younger siblings who don't give a crap about her. She never listened to anyone talking shit about her, even behind her back, she clapped back unlike her other siblings. She rebelled against the shitty rules.

And oh boy did she dared to choose her own career path and don't go to be a doctor, or an engineer or a fucking lawyer or even a teacher for the matter of fact. When she told her parents she is not quitting her job at the cafe because she loves it, they just lashes out on her. Because well, it isn't well reputed job, is it?

Harry waited for her anxiously at home. When he heard that click of door opening he walked up to go greet her, she looked all tired and run down. Before he could say anything else their neighbour greeted her.

"Hey YN."

"Hi," she said after glancing at her boyfriend.

"I was wondering if you were free this weekend, my friends and I were going out for drinks." Deniz said, Harry looked taken back.

"No, I have plans with my boyfriend here." She quickly and politely turned him down, "Harry this is Deniz, he's our new neighbour."

"Nice to meet you..." Harry said, he didn't mean it though, "Deniz was it?"

"Yeah, nice to meet you too. Sorry about that." The blue eyed man said, "never seen you around here."

"I was on tour recently so I wasn't home." Harry shared. Deniz just smiled awkwardly and walked into his flat. YN walked in herself and shut the door behind her. "You've got a quite a few admirers, eh?" He teased her earning an eye roll from. "I don't blame him honestly, I've got a quite crush on you too."

"Oh, I really hope you do." She warned him, taking off her shoes. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't know why he asked that."

"Don't be sorry baby, I trust you," he assured her as he pulled her in a big bear hug. "God I miss you too much when you're off to work."

"Just six hours Harry," she giggled holding onto him tightly as he lifted her off her feet and walked in the living room with her. Sitting down her placed her on his lap.

"It's too much!" He whines burying his face in her neck.

"I'm all sweaty, lemme go shower and we can cuddle." She suggested.

"Shush!" He sounded, "I don't mind."

"Did you eat dinner?" She asked.

"Mhmm," he nodded, pulling back enough to look at her, "how did it go with your brother?"

"He shared a few things." YN started, "for first he was asking if I was ever going to move back in, I told him I'm living with my boyfriend now to which he reacted like, meh, I don't know how to explain it. He just looked taken back."

"Mhmm, and?"

"And he said that Grandma is sick from past few weeks, but they had to take her to hospital a couple of days back." She said, "and all that. And a couple more things."

"You want to go see her then?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'll go tomorrow." She nodded, "you want to come with me? We can go after your interview?"

"Yeah." He agreed. He'll get to meet her family.

......................................................................

The very next morning Harry had an interview at Graham Norton show but he is nervous. He's certain he's going to be asked about the pictures of him and his girlfriend at the interview. He has been contemplating whether to just dodge it or answer it truthfully. Honestly he would but he doesn't know how YN feels about it.

"Baby, would you help me pick a suit?" Harry asked.

"You should wear the pink one from suits Lambert sent pictures of." YN suggested.

"Oh the with embroidered flowers?" He was already pulling up the exact pink suit on his phone.

"Yes, that one. And wear the baby pink shirt underneath it."

"Nice choice baby love." He gave her a forehead kiss, "I'll go get ready to leave now."

"Yeah," YN nodded, pressing a kiss on his shoulder she walked out.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Harry followed her out, she was in the kitchen.

"Nothing, just worried about my Grandma." She shared, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her stopping her from moving around much as she prepared for a nice breakfast.

"I thought you didn't like her?"

"Harry, she's still my dad's mother." She sighed, not liking his joke which weren't entirely wrong.

"I apologise baby," he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, "we'll go see her after my interview today, yeah?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

"What are you making?" He asked watching her resume mixing flour in the went ingredients.

"Pancakes, I'll be getting late for work so, something quick." She shared.

"I'll make us coffee and tea." He got to making himself coffee and her a cuppa. Like everyday, they had a breakfast together. It was their thing to eat at least one meal together whenever Harry's in town.

......................................................................

As expected Harry was now being asked about his secret girlfriend.

Now Harry has been dying for the commercial break so he could tell this actress sitting next to him that his girl is a huge fan of her. She's literally made him watch each one of her movies with her. But he wasn't expecting for the pictures of him and his girl being asked about now, though he knew it was going to inevitable to avoid.

"What are you even doing here?" Graham asked showing a picture of him at the Hyde Park on one of the many picnic dates with YN. He was chasing her for something cheeky did that day. He has been caught in the action, with a very funny face.

"Running." He shrugged leaning back trying to act casual and not nervous. Graham proceeded to show a few twitter memes of him on the pictures.

"Oh, this is a new one 'I would be filing an restraining order if someone looked at me the way Harry is looking at this girl.' I mean, you do look creepy there!" Graham laughed.

It was a picture of Harry and his girl at Louvre museum not too long ago. He didn't even know he looked creepy just admiring her talking about something she found amusing or interesting. He can still remember seeing her eyes sparkle there, looking at the stuff she has been researching for days when he told her about the little trip to france even though just her back was to be seen in the picture. He just laughed awkwardly.

"May I ask, who is that you're with?" The host asked, taking him by a little surprise.

"That, ehm, that's my missus." He confirmed making the audience scream in awe, "yeah, that's my partner." He nodded, shyly running a nervous knuckle under his nose, an attempt to hide his blush.

"You've never talked about your romantic life before!" The host exclaimed in surprise, "well, apart from confirming your situationship with Barak Obama."

"Stop, it still hurts!" Harry covered his eyes dramatically making everyone laugh.

"How long have you been together? And how didn't we know about it?" The other comedian actor sitting on his other side asked, confusedly.

"I don't know really." Harry stuttered, "a pretty long time, yeah." He smiled shyly. He's clearly never talked about being in a relationship with someone. And he was being vague about the status for a reason there, to protect her from the internet cruelty. People can really feel free wonder what their relationship setting is.

He knew this was going to make a huge buzz in the media and on internet. But Harry did talked to YN's favourite actress about her, even make FaceTime call after wrap up.

He went home to see an excited YN there who tackled him with the biggest and warmest hug.

"Ah! I can't believe you actually met her!" She exclaimed, "thank you telling her about me!"

"Of course my baby," he cooed, "I love talking about you!"

"I love you so much!" She gave him a last squeeze before she pulled away to press firm kisses on his mouth.

"I'd go hunting down your favourite celebrities from now on." He mumbled in between her sweet little kisses. "I love you too, baby."

"You are my favourite celebrity, I don't know what you're talking about." She shrugged.

"I can agree to that." He nods, "are you ready to leave to see your grandma?"

"Mhmm, I packed a little over night bag." She shared, "it would be too late to drive back. Do you want to get a change of clothes?"

They were going to have to stay overnight as the visiting hours in the morning are very limited. Driving in the morning made less sense, in case if they got late they'd have to wait another day. YN managed to get just one day off of work. Also she wanted Harry to meet up with her family finally!

"Of course, do you have room in your bag?" He went in their bedroom to get a change of spare clothes, he was already in a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

"Yup!" She sounded following him around like a little puppy.

......................................................................

On the car ride to Kingston, YN was driving when Harry decided to tell her that he'd confirmed to be in a relationship.

"Graham showed a few pictures of us at the interview." Harry started, "I gave a vague answer that you're my girl."

"Oh, really?" She asked, being taken aback by the accent she put on unknowingly, "I sounded super British there! What have you done to me?!" She fake screamed making him laugh out loud, his head thrown back.

"Being a good influence, eh?" He teased her, "I don't know if you were fine with it or not. I can still call in and ask them to cut the segment off for you."

"No, it's fine." She shrugged, "it was going to be out anyway." She seemed very chill about it. "Though your fans still come over at the cafe asking what time you usually come in."

"They do?" He was surprised.

"Mhmm, I just tell them there is no fixed time you come over." She answered. "Oh shit! I forgot to book a damn hotel, I don't want to stay at my parents!"

"I can do that baby, don't worry." He pulled out his phone without any questions. He knew how weirdly complicated her family is.

It was going to be a fum field trip for him and her for the day. But he was ready for anything. Because he just loves so much!

......................................................................

Twitter

HSupdates: "That, ehm, that's my missus." Harry talking about being seen with a girl at Louvre museum."yeah, that's my partner."

Replies:

User1 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!! HE HAS NEVER TALKED ABOUT HIS PARTNERS BEFORE! I'M GONNA GO THROW MYSELF OFF A CLIFF. BRB.

User2 He's literally so sick for doing this! 😭 I love him!

User3 He actually seems so happy 🥺 makes me so happy that he can openly talk about the person he loves.

User4 She must make him so happy that he actually talked about her. I'm gonna cry!

mamatwist ❤️❤️

User6 WHO IS SHE?!! WHERE THE FBI HARRIES?!

User7 OMG! She works at the cafe Harry has been seen visiting almost every fucking day he's in London. GOD! he's smitten like a kitten with her! 😭

User8 no because I go to her cafe, she's literally so sweet. Such an agel she is. Sadly there were some rude Karens when I was there last time I couldn't talk to her cuz I didn't wanted to make her more upset. But she's literally so sweet!

User9 What the fuck? Harry likes to degrade his options? He went from Taylor to Kendall ro Camille to now some random ass barista? My mans need a serious wingman!

User10 SHUT UP! That's why he's been visiting the same cafe from past two years??? They've been together FOR TWO FUCKING YEARS??

User11 Watch this man get married, have ten kids and three grandkids and we wouldn't know. Love that for him!

User12 Isn't it the same girl who have been Credited on every Harry's House song? 🥺

User13 Fucking hell! She's the rudest person I have ever met. She messed my perfect order on purpose when I went to her outlet.

User14 Don't listen to the rude and nasty people in the replies y'all. She's very sweet and kind. No wonder why Harry is so happy lately. She was there at the last London show with Gemma and Anne, they both looked so happy with her too. 🥺

User15 My baby is finally happy! 🥺 I am so happy he found someone!

User16 So happy she's not from the industry. He needs serious humbling!

HSupdates: "I don't know really." Stutters, "a pretty long time, yeah." Harry on being asked how long he's been with his partner.

Replies:

User17 He might have told us he's taken but he will never give out any details.

User18 People better not bully the girl who makes my baby so happy 😤 I'll literally burn down cities!

User19 No because he got all blushy and shy. I love that for him!

User20 This is seriously a PR to hide ykw 👀 she's been literally credited on his album. Lol

User21 User20 stfu if you don't know anything. Let Harry be happy for once! Not everything have to a PR to hide anything! Grow tf up!

User22 God she's so fat 🤢 wtf Harry sees in her!

User21 User22 Good! Sk now we're gonna body shame the person you don't even know the name of? Go get a job at a McDonald's or something pls.

User23 Harry we love that for you!

User24 God I feel bad for the girl already. I hope fans respect this girl now. She seems so sweet by reading the few nice comments about her. 🥺

User25 No one bully my Husband's partner 🤺🤺 I'll literally hunt you down!

User26 *Sneaky Pictures of YN working at the cafe" I saw her today! Ew she's so ugly!

User27 User26 WTF? Literally delete this now! This is so disgusting of you, leave her alone!

User28 I literally love her for making Harry so happy!

User29 I hope Harry settle downs now. 🥺 Anne seemed so happy with her at the Wembley show.

User30 No but how lucky is Harry to have a person HER in his life now? He deserves it!

User31 stfu everyone! Harry_Styles can you fight? Because I am gonna steal your hot gf from you!

User32 NO SHE WAS IN MY MUSIC HISTORY CLASS! NO WONDER WHY SHE HAS BEEN CREDITED ON HARRY'S HOUSE!

User33 No literally. Harry you should go learn Karate or something because she's so fucking gorgeous. Like BI PANIC IS REAL!

User34 No he took her to Museums for dates 🥺 that's so Harry of him

User35 They frequently go to Hyde Park and have little picnics. I see them almost every second day Harry is back in London when I go for my everything walks.

User36 No because the way Harry and Her go to the Hyde Park. I literally see them everytime Harry's in town. They cuddle up in a corner looking through the phone kr Harry reads to her 🥺

User37 SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TAKE THEIR PICTURES FROM THEIR PICNIC DATES!

User38 User37 Uhmm... No? Because that's very effing creepy. They deserve their privacy. So stfu with kindness 🥰

User39 That's the same girl I saw at Harry's Wembley show at the salon with Anne and Gemma. She's literally part of the family now 🥺❤️😭

User40 Her hair is so fucking pretty 😭 I wanna see how pretty she looks so badly!

User41 Imagine the next post of Harry is that he's engaged or married to her. It's over for you bitches 🤧

User42 User41 I doubt he'll post anything about it but that would shut down many fucker out here! I so badly want him to post about her.

User43 I can't. I am heartbroken at the same time so happy for him.

User44 "My Missus" ?!?!? How British can he get 😩

User45 She's so hot irl dude. Harry is literally to lucky to have get her! I am jealous 😭

User46 so cute!!!

User47 I want to be Harry so bad! I am so jealous of him for a getting a girl that hot!

User48 The way we're all collectively thirsting over Harry's partner 🤧 this has never happened before but I'm here for it.

User49 No because why is her back so pretty? Like, imagine how pretty she's be from the front

IndianHarrie Harry finally getting some spice in his love life 😤 (pun intended cuz she seems Indian to me lol)

User40 IndianHarrie NOUR! STOP! 😭🤣

N O T E :

1. AJSHAIGS the way I had so much writing this 😭😂 especially the twitter part. Probably the dumbest shit I've written but I love this!

2. Please do tell me how you like this one. What was your favourite part?

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry know if you want to added to the tag list

[kiwi-channn]

falling petals

simon riley × fem reader (wife)

(part 2)

I was gonna make it a break up but I thought I could make it a bit more realistic so don't come at me :⁠-⁠)

Also I wanted to end it in this part but it was gonna be too long if I ended it here so maybe there will be just a part 3

Anyway hope you like this part (⁠^⁠^⁠)

(another little thing: I didn't mention any babies in part 1 but I thought I should give them a baby really to make it more reasoning for this part so reader and Simon have a little baby okay.. but it wasn't necessary before)

part 1 here

....….................................................

you were folding some of your clothes in the bedroom, it has been four days since that confession, and now y/n is just back here like nothing happened. Yes he has been sleeping on the couch in the living room but she is still back in their house, the house they built together. Every time her gaze falls on any corner in that house, memories rush to her mind, happy moments, sad moments, argument moments… it was home.. But now it feels foreign.. Not the same place she knows, not the same place she felt comfortable in, not the place she wanted to decorate most of the time, to make it look better. Now she just feels so empty like a shell thrown on the shore away from the sea water, the cruel waves kicked her out of the water she loved.

“All men are like this, just live for your kid” that sentence keeps repeating in her head, like a broken record, replaying again and again…

…….

On that confession night at 12:30 after midnight, she locked herself in the bedroom with her small baby, crying and crying until there were no more tears coming out of her eyes, but she still felt so damaged and broken, looking beside her at the roses he sent while on deployment without an occasion, now she understands why he sent them, he was guilty, that is all…

The red petals are dry, so dry, their fresh red color is fading, and they are slowly falling on the surface of the nightstand beside the bed… 

Her little baby daughter is still crying.. Like she feels her mother's broken heart, crying for her sadness, y/n doesnt know how to calm down and stop her heart from bleeding nor how to calm her little girl down… it feels black not even blue… so she just kept crying with her .. Will this horrible night end?!... Is it all a horrible nightmare?...

 (will i wake up now?)

After about half an hour of this bleak time, y/n decides to leave, she can’t take this anymore, she feels so disgusted at her unfaithful husband simon riley..

She gets up, her body feeling heavy, and first before anything feeding her crying baby girl to make her calm down and not cry anymore… and she gathers some of her stuff and holds her baby up in one arm and a small bag in the other hand, taking a deep breath before going out.. hoping that he isn't outside...

Slowly opening the bedroom's door, taking a peek outside to see where simon is, 'cause she doen't wanna see him… she thanks god that he isn't out there, and she doesn't care where he is really, she quickly takes some necessary stuff for the baby and wears her sneakers and leaves that dark house…. 

Takes a taxi to her mom’s house, she really needs her right now, she wants any kind of support, and her mother’s embrace is gonna be the best thing ever to gaher her broken pieces together…. 

 ….

“What happenned?” her mom says softly… “what did he do? Why are you back with your baby and you look horrible?”... “speak to me.. Iam getting more worried..” her mom was so concerned… she knew that something big happened making her daughter come to her this late at night..

Y/n sighs tiryingly, thinking if she should tell her mom about the whole thing… 

“Nothing, I just don't wanna see his face ever again..” says so quietly with a tired heart.. 

“What?... you dont wanna see simon?!... are you for real?..” her mom can't believe her ears… her daughter was always so in love with him.. She is sure that something big happened .. She looks carefully at her dead looking daughter y/n… she sees her puffy red eyes from crying, her pale face…

“He is seeing someone?..” her mom said so calmly like she wasn't even asking, it is a statement…

She can't believe that her mom guessed it so quickly.. She looks at her… confused “how did you know?” .. “did he look so unloyal? Was I so stupid?.. Mom” she couldnt help but shed a few tears.. Her mother felt so sad for seeing her collapsing like this… hugging her tightly..

“I can't, i dont wanna live anymore in this world, i wish i was never even born… i did everything i can, i tried to be good at everything… where did i go wrong?..”

“It is not your fault and you know it… you did nothing wrong, you are the best, you are my daughter..” 

“Then why?... why did he do that?... i feel so mad, i don't wanna see his face, i hate him… i don't wanna look at his face again… he fooled me… i was so dumb..” sobbing more..

“Calm down my dear.. Just cry it out… vent it all out.. Lighten your heart… I'm here..”

(i dont remember for how long i cried, i just cried and cried like a baby in my mom's arms… i didnt feel anything after that nor even remember what happened exactly after that……)

………..

She finished folding the clothes … then she got up and went to the kitchen to drink some water and refresh herself… she doen't know what to do anymore… but she can't ignore what her mom said a few days ago..

.........

“Mom!.. What are you saying?.. Should I just stay with him like nothing happened?... do you-”

“I know… i know it's hard and you feel so mad and disgusted… but… let's be realistic okay?..”

“Realistic!... oh so i should just ignore what happened and stick with him like he didn't do anything…”

“y/n..”

“Like he didn't see someone else.. Like he did touch someone else while I was here alone, taking care of my child alone… he was just doing that thing!... that. he touched someone else.. He .. he just loved someone else….”

“Calm down… i know what iam saying is frustrating , but i dont want you to be like me… i dont your child to not have his parents together… think about your kid… remember how you felt when your father left…”

“I remember how I felt.. But you know how it feels to be betrayed… how come you are telling me to not get a divorce!.. I dont understand you.. Mom.. I imagine how he was with her.. Was I nothing?... he just kissed her, said the same things to her.. ” tears welling up in her eyes… she feels like a broken faucet… tears driping all the time… 

“Iam telling you to not do it, because i know how it feels… but every time i felt i needed someone with me to take care of you and your sister.. I wished to not be alone at that time…” her mom said..

“But..”

“It is your decision but i think you should give him a chance… give another chance to that home you built… don't just let it all down… for some other woman... Don't let her take your place".... "and at the end of the day it's your choice…”

……..

The front door opening woke her up to the present… she saw simon coming in through the door, she felt like throwing up the moment she looked at his face, and she looked back at the kettle … 

He felt awkward, she used to welcome him every time he came back no matter where he went, even if it was down the street… but it feels strange now, the mood is so gloomy… like he is a guest coming for a short visit and should leave… he wants to make it better.. To solve this… 

“Hey..” he says gently.. Looking at her back… he wants to get closer.. To feel her .. "I went to the store to buy some diapers for lily"

She didnt answer him.. Not even looking his way.. Like he was nothing..

He sighed and approached her a bit.. He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, he doen't dare to get closer.. To enter her space… she has already closed the door of that unseen space…

“Can you at least answer me.. y/n” his voice was tired.. He couldn’t sleep for the last few days… feeling so grossed at himself.. He doesn't understand what he did himself…

She still doesnt answer.

“At least get mad… dont just be silent..” 

“What do you want me to say?...” .. “I told you I'm only here for my child… I'm not here to fix anything..” she snaps at him… her voice raising a bit.. but her tone is still firm...

“I know that… but since I picked you up from your mom's house, you didnt say anything… and why not fix it… i will-” he is so desperate..

“I don't want anything from you… i don't even wanna see your face…” y/n says angrily…not caring about hurting his feelings like before.. she actually wanna hurt him… she wanna make him feel more horrible.. more desperate..

“I'm sorry..” he just aplogized quietly.. Making her more mad…

“I don't wanna hear it… it won't change anything…”

“Maybe if you talked.. Let it out on me….” he begs her.. he doesn't mind if she even threw anything at him.. he knows that what he did will never be forgiven especially from her.. but he still hopes a bit...

“I said stop talking to me…”

“y/n… I'm not gonna stop, I will try until you talk…” it's like he is provoking her more...

“You want me to talk!... fine.. I hate you and i feel so disgusted every time i see your face… i wish that i take all the years i wasted on you back… i wish i didn't marry you… i wish i didn't have a kid with you… i really will never ever forgive you…. I ..” she snapped again… letting lots of things out of her heart… 

Simon didn't say anything back, he just listened to her.. He knows he made a huge mistake but will do anything to fix this…

And she continues “I gave you everything… all of me.. I tried and tried… I learned how to cook to make a warm meal for you and make you feel at home… I ignored how cold you get sometimes… ignored how lonely and tired i was .. all alone most of the time.. But I stayed loyal… I took care of my kid all alone… I worked hard to make this relationship work… i put my trust in you, told you all my fears ,and even though i told you i don't trust men because of my dad and you just… you..”

“I'm sorry..” he said with a so quiet tone, like he was scared to mess it up more… he doesn't know what to say... Just feeling more ashamed..

“I don't wanna hear your apology…” said quietly as she wiped her tears... she didn't want to cry in front of him...

he tried getting closer to her.. he wanted to hold her close... he really hoped she would forgive him... he really wanted them to go back to how it was.. to how warm she was.. to how happy she was... not like this...

she felt his arms around her... making her feel more broken... but it all fell down already, she can't just accept his hug like before...

he expected it when she pushed his arms away from her... walking out of the kitchen with one last sentence... "Don't get close to me.."

....

with this chaotic encounter, she goes to the bedroom and smacks the door behind her, locking it... she hates it so much... hates seeing his face.. hates his voice.. how did that woman look like.. how could he touch someone else.. this is driving her crazy... and what is driving her crazy more is how she can't cut it all and end it for good... what should she really do?... should she just let go and walk away from him?... or stay and give this a chance?... she does need help.. and needs time too... her emotions and feelings are all over the place...