#just something you can say to people as a wee fun fact

[oifaaa]

It's probably one of dc attempt to make bruce closer to gotham/the people he's protecting, that't why they let him be where he is rn. Although imo if they're trying to do that, they could make him suffer a bit more economically

Yeah it doesn't really feel like dc focus enough on his non hero life to actually feel the effects of his lack of capital and it doesn't even seem to really hinder his batman stuff even tho it definitely should do if you were currently reading batman you probably wouldn't even notice

[lxvemaze]

Hi my love, i just saw the tall reader x skz and can you also do tall reader x ateez hcs please 🙏 they heal me hahaha

ahhh absolutely!!! i loved writing the skz ones!! hope you like these<3

ateez with a tall!s/o

pairing' ot8 x reader

genre' fluff

warnings' wee bit suggestive in wooyoungs

a/n' i felt silly

⚝hongjoong

he don't give a FUUUUUUUCK. your height difference was never something he took into consideration. even when you first started dating, he just didn't really think about it. that being said; if anyone ever tries to make fun of your height difference, he will shut it down IMMEDIATELYYYYYYY. you will not get a single second to be insecure about your height, bc he will always let you know how much he loves you 😚 doesn't matter how much shorter than you he is, he will always be big spoon. he wants you to know that he will always take care of and love you, no matter what comments or looks you guys get from others.

⚝seonghwa

while hongjoong doesn't really care, seonghwa LOOOOVES your height. he is sososo obsessed with you. he treats you like an actual angel. he will do anything and everything you ask of him. anytime anyone's like "lol your girlfriend's taller than you" he's like "yeah she is (●´ω｀●)" just absolutely enamored. he loves it when you wear heels so he has to crane his neck a bit to make eye contact with you. makes him all giggly :3 sometimes you two will be standing somewhere maybe in like, a line at a coffee shop or smth, and you'll look over to him and he's just staring up at you with the biggest heart eyes. he is just so in love.

⚝yunho

bro was absolutely SHOCKED when he first met you. he's already really tall, so meeting a girl that was taller than him???? made him feel all nervous and silly. when you first met, he probably didn't know if he was scared of you or really into you. you probably asked him out first bc you made him too nervous 🥹 in a relationship, he's probably soooo proud that his girlfriend is taller than him- like, he's just astonished that he bagged a taller girl in the first place. bro may be the sweetest boy in the world, but if anyone makes a negative comment about your height, he will FIGHT. no one can comment on his tall queen ☝️

⚝yeosang

yeosang sees you as the single most beautiful person in the world. he absolutely loves the fact that you're taller than him. this man is the biggest little spoon in the world- he loves being cuddled by you and feeling all safe and secure. tbh, i honestly think that your height was one of the first things about you that he was attracted to, and i don't think he expected that at first, but he's literally obsessed with you.

⚝san

i've said it before, and i'll say it again; san is the single most respectful and loving man on the planet. i don't think he ever expected to be into a taller girl, i think he always pictured himself with a girl shorter than him, but after he met you, all those thoughts of being with a shorter girl went straight out the window. as soon as he met you, he was obsessed with you and your height. literally refuses to let you be insecure. anytime you say one thing even slightly self-deprecating about your height, he will give you ten separate reasons why he loves your height.

⚝mingi

bro was whipped as soon as he met you. mingi may act like a freaky deaky fuckboy sometimes, but he is a loverboy at heart, ya'll. when you first met, he tried to act all cool and suave to impress you, but you saw right through him 😭 he's just so silly around you. he knows what it's like to be tall and that when you're tall, people see you as a lot scarier than you are, and he realizes that it's probably even worse for you being as tall of a girl as you are. so he tries his best to be as soft as possible, and treat you like a princess. will fight you so he can be the big spoon. he just likes to cuddle you and make you feel safe :3

⚝wooyoung

oh, you already know babygirl loves it. we already know that he likes to get bossed around 💀 so you being taller than him is really just the icing on the cake. absolutely obsessed with you. whenever you two are walking in public together, he will be attached to your arm the entire time with that smug grin on his face. he absolutely loves when he introduces you to people, and they're just kind of in shock at your height. side note- he loves reaching up to grab your face and pull you down into a kiss (◍•ᴗ•◍) he also loves to play fight with you, like, wrestle with you. and then pinning you down to show you that just bc you're taller than him and act like you're the lead in public doesn't mean that he won't put you in your place in private WHOOPS (he is never beating the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 allegations)

⚝jongho

real morticia and gomez vibes in this relationship. he literally worships you. he absolutely loves it when you wear heels omg, he just loves it when you embrace your height. he likes to buy you beautiful expensive heels and dresses and take you out for fancy dinners and show you off 😋 he's just so in love with you, literally no comment that anyone could make would make him think twice about how he loves your height difference. he likes to have a hand on your waist, or have you hold his arm when you're in public. bro loves his tall queen to the end of time and wants everyone to know that you're his💪

[milksnake-tea]

━━ 4:00:00 A.M.

in which silver wolf and sunday realize they have more in common than they'd originally thought. 2.1k words.

It’s just about 4:00:00 system time when Silver Wolf finds herself pulling yet another all-nighter.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to her; as much as she needs it (much to her chagrin, as unfortunate as it is, she is painfully human and thus needs sleep as everyone else does), she often finds herself staying well into the wee hours of the night with her room shrouded in darkness and her face illuminated by her various consoles and monitors.

She stifles a yawn as her thumbs move on autopilot across the rhythm game she has up on her phone. To any normie, the bright colors and flashing lights would’ve given them a seizure with how rapidly they blinked. But Silver Wolf is already starting to get bored of it - even at this speed, the game was too boring, too slow.

There’s little to no joy as the victory screen flashes. With a sigh and a stretch of her arms, Silver Wolf leans back in her chair.

She’s bored, so incredibly bored.

Nothing interesting is happening anymore. It’s like the cosmos has gone dead-silent, waiting for the next update or patch to come. Except unlike with games, Silver Wolf can’t just leave this reality and pick up another one.

She stares up at the ceiling despite the lack of light. It isn’t like anyone’s awake at this time, either. Firefly might be, but she’s off in a whole ‘nother star system and probably doesn’t feel like having some fun - not after Penacony. Blade’s knocked out, and Silver Wolf would eat her shoe before she asked Kafka of all people to game.

That leaves two people: Elio, and the new recruit.

And Elio hasn’t left his man-cave for the last three weeks - not like Silver Wolf would play with him, anyways. He’s got to be one of the most boring players of all time; he already knows everything that’s going to happen, and so he’s never lost.

As for Sunday, well…

She raises her hand and violet-blue screens materialize at her fingertips. She sorts through the base’s security camera feeds (made by yours truly), scrolling mindlessly until she spots something, no, someone in the hall outlooking the cosmos.

She grins. Perfect.

With a cartoonish popping noise, she teleports right besides Sunday so she can speak in his ear.

“Whatcha looking at?”

Sunday jumps, wings flaring like a deer in highlights. He unfortunately doesn’t scream in absolute terror, nor does he jump back with a face so scandalized it would rival that of the oldest and most traditional of great-great-grandparents.

Silver Wolf bites her lip to hide her disappointment. Indifferently, she tilts her head and lands neatly on the floor besides Sunday.

As soon as he gets his bearings back, Sunday sighs with a pointed look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course,” Silver Wolf snickers, planting her hands on her hips. 

She kind of hates how she has to crane her neck up to look at him - over three years of working with the Hunters, and she’s yet to find someone who wasn’t taller than her. And she’s been drinking a lot of milk, too (never let Kafka find out. If she did, Silver Wolf was going to throw herself off the top of Pier Point)!

“You didn’t answer my question, though. What’re you doing up so late, Mr. Wings?”

If Sunday cares for her nickname, he doesn't show it. He rarely shows anything. “I could say the same to you, Miss Silver Wolf.”

“Well, since you’re new, I’ll let this slide. But it’s pretty well-known around here that I don’t exactly need sleep.”

Sunday raises a brow. “Is that right?”

Thinly veiled amusement laces his tone. He obviously doesn’t believe her.

“You don’t have to believe me,” she shrugs, feigning indifference. “Isn’t the fact that I’m here proof in of itself?”

Her eye twitches when Sunday insteads lets out a breathy chuckle, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Time and time again, Silver Wolf has been looked down on because of her stature and young age, and many more times she’s used that to her advantage. She’s been called a child, immature, a brat - all by people she would eventually bring down with ease.

But for some reason, she doesn’t see that condescending gaze in Sunday’s eyes. No, it’s something different - something… warm, and fond.

It creeps her the hell out.

“It’s rude to stare,” she clips, crossing her arms. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that?”

Sunday’s gaze becomes downcast. Shit. Did she say something she shouldn’t have?

“My parents were…”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to finish that,” she interrupts hastily. Sunday shakes his head.

“No, it’s alright.” 

Looking up to the great vastness of the universe, Sunday’s eyes become unfocused, as if gazing upon something far, far into the distance, something that couldn’t be seen by the naked eye.

“My parents left me at a very early age due to the Stellaron Crisis,” he begins. Internally sighing, Silver Wolf falls silent. “For as long as I’ve ever known, Robin was the only person I had. We did everything together, from our lessons to sneaking out at night to watch the stars.”

“You? Sneak out?” Silver Wolf raises a brow. Maybe he isn’t as uptight as she thought he was.

“It was mainly Robin’s idea, although I was more of a troublemaker than I am now.”

“You’re a wanted criminal.”

“That’s besides the point.”

Well, at least there’s potential. Silver Wolf wouldn’t know what to do if she had a religious prick with a stick up his ass as a coworker… he’d be fun to tease, but that’s it. Regardless, she nods for him to continue.

“Anyways, it goes without saying that Robin was… is very important to me. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, even if it meant that Gopher Wood would target me instead of her. And… as much as I owe to Gopher Wood, he wasn’t the kindest of father figures.”

He turns his head slightly to meet Silver Wolf’s eyes. She hopes that her expression is normal.

“So, forgive me, if I haven't learnt anything my parents should’ve taught me.”

Whatever sympathy Silver Wolf had shrinks quite quickly. Her face drops into a pout.

“Alright, geez,” she groans, stretching her arms. “I’m sorry, okay? I said something insensitive.”

Sunday hums. “Are you really?”

Her pout drops into a glower. “If you’re thinking of making me grovel, think again. I’m not going to stoop that low.”

“Alright, alright,” Sunday concedes with a smile. “I forgive you.”

There’s something in the way he speaks that makes it so that she doesn’t even want to grace him with a response. Turning her cheek with a huff, she joins him in watching as the nebulae pass by.

For a moment, the world is still. Silence envelops the base, and the only sound is a distant soundtrack of classical music.

Then, for reasons she doesn’t know herself, she speaks.

“You know, I also had a sibling.”

In the reflection of the window, she sees Sunday’s brows raise with intrigue. Warmth rushing to her cheeks, she coughs and hastily continues. By the End, why did she ever think this was a good idea?

“Well, they weren’t as much a sibling as they were a coworker. But they were the only one who could ever keep up with me. I’ve yet to meet another person like them, and I doubt that I ever will. They were like a 5-star artifact that rolled into all of the right substats.”

“You say ‘were’,” Sunday observes carefully. “Have they…?”

“They’re not dead,” Silver Wolf says bluntly. “They just left. I see them sometimes, but they don’t remember me.”

Sunday’s gaze becomes lidded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Silver Wolf waves him off. If he’s about to get all sappy or therapist-y with her, she doesn’t want part in any of it. “It was going to happen one way or another. It was in the script.”

“Still, isn’t it lonely?”

Lonely?

Silver Wolf doesn’t know what to make of that word. Loneliness implied the lack of companions, of which she has many - excluding the Hunters, she has Friend, Demon Lord, White Collar, and Servant. They are the ones who have been with her ever since her days in that dingy old fast-food restaurant. With them around, she was never alone.

But that doesn’t seem to be what Sunday is asking.

“I don’t know,” she says nonchalantly. “It is boring without them, though.”

Sunday doesn’t reply. The silence returns, but this time with a heavier weight. Her chest constricts - she wants to sigh, but holds herself back.

It’s stupid, anyways, to grieve for someone who never left. She still sees them, after all. They just… don’t like her as much as they used to.

A memory she’s tried to bury comes to mind - the Astral Express’s cabin, a hologram, and a distrustful gaze, and a word that haunts her more than she’d like to admit: Intruder.

Ugh, whatever. She knew it would happen; Elio had warned her. She’d read the script. She’d taken their memories herself. She even made fun of Kafka when they didn’t fully remember her.

She’s being stupid - maybe this is why Blade always told her to not stay up too late. Emotions are dumb, and she does not have the time to deal with them-

There’s a gentle weight on her head, and then a soft rustling of her hair. Silver Wolf bluescreens.

“It isn’t a sin to miss someone,” Sunday offers softly. “Nor is it a weakness. All it means is that you treasured that person deeply.”

“I know,” Silver Wolf mutters. She hates how her throat has become a little choked up. Slapping his hand away, she shoots him a disgruntled look. “I’m not a child, by the way. You don’t have to treat me like one.”

“My apologies,” Sunday chuckles, returning his hand behind his back. “I’m afraid I got a tad bit carried away. I do hope you can forgive me, Miss Silver Wolf.”

“Whatever,” Silver Wolf sighs, dusting off her hair in a meager attempt to get it back in line. “And you don’t have to call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Miss. It sounds stuffy. Just call me Silver Wolf, like everyone else does.”

“Not everyone, though,” Sunday points out, mirth glimmering in his eyes. “If I recall correctly, doesn’t Miss Kafka refer to you as-”

“Call me ‘Wolfie’, and I’ll drop you off at the IPC. ”

“Point taken.”

Silver Wolf squints. She doesn’t like Sunday’s tone, still patronizing as ever - but maybe that’s just how he talks. Eh, who cares. He isn’t the only one who talks weird - Kafka would give him a run for his money.

In search of some sort of stimulation, her phone materializes in her hands and she starts up yet another game - that Origami Bird game that she’d dueled against them with.

As always, she opts for PVP - Aeons know how dull the A.I.’s playing style is. But barely one minute in, and she already finds herself itching for something new.

“Is that from Penacony?”

Silver Wolf nearly jumps out of her skin, but thankfully, she manages to play it off well. Sunday is looking just over her shoulder, intrigue barely noticeable but still present.

“Yeah,” she says, shifting away slightly so that he doesn’t breathe on her. “Got launched a few days after you got arrested. Wanna play?”

Surprise flickers briefly over his dove-like features. “I… I suppose I could; although, I do have to warn you - it has been quite some time since I’ve picked up a video game.”

“Really?” Silver Wolf wrinkles her nose as she hands him one of her consoles. “What do you do in your free time, then?”

Sunday blinks. Silver Wolf blinks back.

“My what?”

Silver Wolf visibly cringes.

“Good grief, how are you worse than Blade?” She blows a raspberry, starting up the game. Atop her head, her holographic origami bird flutters to life, nestling into her hair comfortably. A few moments, and soon Sunday's own avatar materializes with a gentle coo. “Alright, whatever. Get the tutorial done, and then I’ll PVP you.”

“Ah, alright. How do I do that again-?”

Does he even know what PVP means? She doubts it. But as the familiar theme song begins to play, the chirps of the holographic birds fill up the empty silence, and she once again finds herself in the motions of teaching someone to play, she can hardly bring herself to care.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

[riddle-me-ri]

Hi! I have been searching for a Lupin iii writer for a long time. Can I request a Lupin iii characters when they realise they are in love with the reader. Like that exact moment where they go "Oh god..." Thank you!

a/n: awwww me wee heart this is so cute and was so fun to work on, hope you don't mind I took it a step farther to also explain why/how they fell in love hehe. Hope you enjoy anon! I'm glad to be of service!

Content Warning: super fluffy, like an absurd amount of fluffiness

Lupin and Gang Realizing They're in Love with Reader

Lupin the Third

- To say Lupin falls in love easily is an understatement.

- However, it's usually more along the lines of an infatuation or passing fancy than anything.

- The same can't be said for you however..even though that's how it all started out.

- He flirted with you, gave you gifts, and took on heists for the shere goal of trying to impress you. (much to Jigen and Goemon's chagrin)

- While you seem appreciative of such gestures…you seemed to just appreciate…himself more.

- You enjoyed being in his presence. Hand in hand, arms linked with each other.

- Lupin can't help but enjoy these moments with you too.

- For all his habits, tendencies, and eccentrics…you always stayed by him, never running off or leaving for someone/something else.

- And he loves you for that.

Jigen Daisuke

- Jigen tries to ignore it, hoping it'll pass like a bad day.

- Falling for people has gotten him nowhere, but rock bottom, why would you be any different?

- Well, for starters, you've definitely stuck around longer than most.

- You've stuck by your word, haven't betrayed him…

- Plus it's the little thoughtful things you do.

- You always caught his hat when it would fly off his head, had a spare lighter for his bent cigarettes…

- Yeah, he liked having you around, maybe something more…despite his better judgment…

- He didn't realize just how down bad he was though until he saw you teasingly place his hat on your head.

- Jigen didn't even know he could blush until that moment.

- It was like something switched on in his brain. He knew what this was, but whether you'd find out or not…only time would tell.

Goemon Ishikawa XIII

- Mr. Tries to ignore it #2

- Yet with each passing day, it becomes more difficult to just ignore.

- He can't deny the warm, invasive but comforting feeling he gets when you're around.

- Or how you have his full undivided attention when you call his name.

- When you're gone from his sight for too long; he begins to worry.

- He finds that whenever you're upset, so is he.

- Goemon takes great pride in keeping his emotions under control.

- Yet, when it comes to you and the strong influence you have over him…

- Every waking moment of his contained you in some form or fashion…

- Goemon realizes he loves you, and even if you never find out or don't reciprocate…he would still remain devoted to you.

Fujiko Mine

- It sorta shakes Fujiko to realize how deep she's fallen.

- Much like Lupin, she also tends to just have passing fancies but not with you.

- Fujiko couldn't imagine leaving you high and dry like she's done others.

- She can't help but think of what you and her could do with the loot she manages to steal, not just what she could do with it.

- Fujiko invites you along with her more than her other previous suitors on her trips…

- Your genuine company, the way you make her laugh, your thoughtful gestures…

- All these little things make her fall for you more and more.

- Fujiko doesn't realize it until she finds herself almost saying the three words out loud to you.

- You weren't even giving her anything or offering to go on a goose chase for a lucrative item of her desires…

- You were just staring back at her just as lovingly as she was…

- Fujiko had to stop herself, though, there's no telling what kind of damage those words can cause if uttered out loud.

Inspector Zenigata

- Nervous, fidgety, blushy state of a man.

- The fact that you get his mind off Lupin for even a second says an exorbitant amount of how much you mean to him.

- When he finds his mind drifting to you and what you're up to…(and not just Lupin and his antics)

- It becomes clear to the inspector he has fallen for you.

- Now he feels he has another incentive to catch Lupin; to impress you and to get to spend more time with you.

- Zenigata feels like you're the only person to actually make him calm.

- You're just so supportive, thoughtful, and considerate…never doubting or ridiculing him.

- The way you'd leave proper meals for him in his office or car so he wasn't always eating instant ramen…

- You were always there whenever his stake outs blundered or Lupin inevitably got away.

- You respected him as the Inspector, but you cared about him as a person as well, and understood him better than most…

- Zenigata doesn't deny his feelings, but he denies the possibility of them going anywhere due to his mission of capturing Lupin…

- Perhaps one day he may find the courage, or he finds contentment in the way you two are now and will leave it at that.

[idkfitememate]

Boar!creator visits the cathedral, and beats Barbara's stalker to a pulp I mean sings with Barbara :)

Barbara Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ��� ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader x Barbara

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 509

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff & Crack

Barbra was not prepared at all to meet this “Boar of the Wilds”. She was perfectly fine where she was, in the Cathedral, safe and sound.

Of course Barbatos had other plans - he was tired of the Boar only picking fights with him what could he say!

So as she sat there in the Cathedral, praying her little heart out, she was interrupted by screams from right outside the door.

She quickly got up and rushed to the door, only to see the very boar she was just thinking about roasting one of the members of her fan club to a crisp.

“Hey! Hey!! Stop that right his second!” She cried. And you did just that.

Though, before the man could ask Barbara for any kind of help, you kicked him down the stairs.

She pointedly looked at you with a small glare before speaking.

“You can not do that! Harming people in or by the Favonius Cathedral is a big no no! Now… shoo! Get out of here.” She made shooing motions with her hands to try and run you off, but you ignored them and walked right through the open doors, causing her to gasp.

She was quick to follow, about to start scolding you again, but found that you had sat yourself right in front of the pew, head down like you were paying respects.

“Do you… also believe in Barbatos?” She asked.

You jumped up and oinked happily. Now you would not usually go to church in your world - not say you didn’t believe but you were just a wee bit busy - but you did know that it was something Barbra believed in heavily. And adding the fact that you kinda fucked with Barbatos damn near on the daily…

You nodded which caused her to gasp and throw her hands to her mouth. Perhaps you weren’t that bad after all!

“Well I too believe in our Lord of Anemo! Perhaps I could sing you a tune? That of which it is said our God also sung as he soared above the cloud?” Her hands clasped in front of her as she bent down to your height, and again you quickly nodded.

“Alright then! It’s starts like this…” and her heavenly voice began to ring out through the halls.

You sat with bated breath as she sung, beginning to sway a little to the beat. You eventually hopped up and began stamping your hooves to the beat as well, making little clinking noises as they fell onto the polished floor.

And finally you began to sing with her. The Deaconess giggled as your squeals and oinks harmonized with her voice. The sisters of the church watching from afar, covering their giggles with hands and smiling at you two having fun.

Rosaria watched from the shadows. Not usually likening to spend her time at the church- despite being a nun - but finding hilarity and solace at the scene before her.

Maybe you were just what was needed to help destress their darling Deaconess.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Venti totally heard you outside and was like: “Even??? The nuns???? Like that stupid boar????? I thought they were on my side >:(“

No Venti, you fucking coffee cup, they were never on your side ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

[lilystyles]

stuck in the middle with you.

part seven of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note the finale, welcome and enjoy! i hope you've liked this series as much as i have enjoyed writing it. i plan to do blurbs of these guys! at ur requests!! follow me to see new one-shots or series coming in future xxxx

brief description y/n is the maid of honour and harry is the best man, what happens when they are forced to share a room? do they reconcile their issues or are they too far gone.

warnings! swearing, sexual themes, alcohol abuse, and ANGST. (10.6k words)

inexperienced!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

That night felt like a long time ago now. The memory had a hazy glow of golden light filling it in Y/n’s mind it felt so far away from where she was now. It felt unreachable and dreamlike.

And yet funnily enough Y/n still replayed it in her mind most nights when she couldn’t sleep, it kept her up into the wee hours of the morning, and she wished she could understand. She just wished she understood it. But she still couldn’t, no matter how many times she replayed it she always came to the same conclusion; Harry wasn’t hers and he had never been. All those months really were just a bit of fun to him, a secret fling. She was sure most of his flings were secret, but then again maybe he just didn’t want anyone to know about her. When they weren’t talking and he was off being famous she saw countless paparazzi photos of him looking quite scandalous with many different men and women, and mentions of his new flings, and during university, he had a new person every week whom he’d come into her room to hide from while Y/n went out and made them guilt filled pancakes. Sometimes she’d bump into them around campus and they’d ask after Harry and she’d just give a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

Whenever she started to feel sombre about it all, and lonely without him, she reminded herself of the fact that he was so sick to his stomach embarrassed by the idea of people knowing about them, that he ended things with her just like that. With no consideration or gentleness which was so out of his character when it came to his friends. She had never seen him so callous with someone whom he claimed he was close to. Even if he saw her as just his friend, she didn’t ever take him as that kind of guy. Harry was not a careless person, if anything he cared too much. Thought over and over before speaking.

It had been a month nearly two since that weekend of absolute foggy chaos. Everything was different now. But she could still remember that morning he came to see her crystal clear though, and that memory was grey and bitter now. It was early, and Y/n though hungover had woken up with the sun. Unusual for her, but something other than the Tequila had her feeling nauseous and his name was Harry. She felt something gnawing in her tummy, and it was almost like she could sense something bad was coming. She just really hadn’t expected what did come.

Harry told her he would call her but he hadn’t, which worried her because he always called. He showed up with little warning, Y/n had already rolled herself up in her blanket on the couch planning to spend the day with her face in her toilet. But she heard a knocking at her door just as she’d turned the telly on.

She opened it and was met with Harry’s green eyes, the rims were red from a lack of sleep. His eyes were puffy and he looked about as terrible as she felt, she tried to assume it was just his hangover. His hair was wet and so was his jumper, it must’ve been raining, she hadn’t heard it. He’d been up all night stressed out over thinking while staring at the new series of photos of Y/n kissing his cheek and him looking at her with these love-filled eyes. Not to mention there were so many of his obsessive fans commenting and being hateful towards her, her looks, everything. To Harry she was perfect and he despised what they were saying. He could handle what people said about him, but now that it was Y/n he wanted to cry. He never wanted her to know or read any of the comments. He couldn’t bear it.

Y/n hadn’t checked her Instagram for a few days but if she looked she’d see millions of requests to her Instagram. She wasn’t much of a social media user other than the ones she used for contact with her family.

“Oh, hey.” She said softly, voice all scratchy she looked very ill.

He had this look on his face, and Y/n could tell he had bad news. But she didn’t expect him to say what he said. 

He made them both a cup of tea each and they sat down on her couch but something was shaky and aloof about him. The early morning news played in the background and Y/n felt her head throbbing hard against her skull as she tried hard to focus on him.

“I think it’s for the best if we just stop this.” He said quickly like ripping off a bandaid.

Y/n felt a lump form in her throat and it hurt to swallow.

She blinked. A beat passed and she felt like she couldn’t speak.

“Stop?” Was all she could say, it sounded weak and croaky.

“I-” He was almost speechless. He saw the glaze of tears spreading over her eyes and a wave of guilt spread underneath his skin like wildfire. But he did not back down and backtrack, he just waited for her response. 

He felt guilty, but he knew if they’d gotten even more serious, and he’d told her he loved her and finally told her how he felt that this cloud of trouble that came with being famous would follow her too.

She just nodded at him, biting her lip trying to hold back the tears. They’d risked it, and now they were suffering the consequences. How could they even be friends after something like this? It hadn’t been smart at all! She felt like a fucking idiot. This was her own fault. She should’ve known. Even though Harry is sensitive, even though he is kind, even though he acts like he is hers, she should have known that he did not want to settle down with her. Be with her. He’d had their whole lives to try it on with her, what made her think adding some sex was going to change that?! She felt ridiculous, this was so fucking cliche. She had become that girl. That stupid girl who believed she could change him.

Now she just wished she’d done nothing at all and stayed inexperienced and sad and alone. At least then she didn’t feel this painful weight in her chest like she couldn’t breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest and she had a rock in her throat. She wanted to claw at the skin by her jugular rip it open and dig out the uncomfortable lump.

It hurt terribly to lose him that first time when they’d only been friends. How would she recover from this? It took her months to move on from that. She was a deeply sensitive person, who despite contrary beliefs noticed little things about people and picked up on things others didn’t. She wondered if it was because she had no experience with romantic love and only just these deep-rooted friendships. But it meant losing a friend felt like mourning. She didn’t know if her heart would handle this. She felt embarrassed that she cared so deeply.

But he wasn’t just a boy he was Harry. He was one of her oldest friends. He knew her, he really knew her, better than anyone else. And now she just had to forget him?

Suddenly those nights that were perfect had begun to tarnish with a bitter blackness that she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t talk, she felt like she’d been winded. 

Harry said nothing and watched her, waiting.

She stared at the hands in her lap and her eyes looked like they were a second away from spilling a tear. When his hand reached for hers, she acted like his touch had burned and only then did she look at him. He felt guilt crawl under his skin and he felt like vomiting as a sweat crept up his neck.

“Okay. I understand, it was never meant to be more than once anyway. You can go now, I don’t feel good. I don’t want you to catch this cold.” She said with a flat soft tone, fast like she had something better to do, and like this was very unimportant compared to her other to-do’s.

When he looked for the hurt in her eyes he was met with a harsh cold look he hadn’t expected or ever seen in her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll see you.” 

His hands itched to stroke her cheek but he refrained and instead got up put his coat on and left without another word. When the door shut and she heard his footsteps get quieter Y/n placed her hand on her heart and begged for her lungs to breathe, as a wetness landed on her cheeks and she fell to the floor trying to ground herself. Where had all the air gone? He hadn’t taken that with him too, had he?

He didn’t see her. She didn’t see him. In fact, they’d actively avoided each other since that day. Their friends knew now they’d been together (they had assumed but now knew for sure), the tabloids knew too, and the entire world knew they’d had a steamy fling. But none of them knew why things had ended, and neither did Y/n really. But she wasn’t going to question Harry, especially because that meant speaking to him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to, not without crying or making a fool of herself.

She should’ve known that he had always been carefree when it came to sex and he wasn’t particularly tied down to one place or person he was free. A free spirit, which is probably what helped him be such a good lover, he was attentive and enjoyed making the other person feel good, Y/n was sure the men or women he’d slept with could agree he was good. She wondered if they felt like she did like he was falling in love too.

What made her think she could change him? Why did she let herself get tangled in him, now everything she did was embedded in the memories. It had been nearly six months since New Year's. 

It was Summer now, the cold had vanished and gone with it so had the person who kept her warm. When she met with Daisy to go to the dress fittings for bridesmaids dresses the last person the two girls expected to run into was Harry of all people. He was in one shop over looking for a gift for James and Daisy. Their wedding was in two weeks. He’d been pondering what to get them, they had the most important things already — love, happiness, and great clothes. What do you buy people who have everything they need? They were rich in things that mattered.

Daisy now knew everything that had happened because Y/n told her when she knocked down her door and found Y/n on the floor hidden in mountains of takeaway containers listening to Taylor Swift. She almost wanted to call Miss Taylor herself, after all, she’d written like two albums about Harry. Y/n thought that was rather understandable. He stayed stuck in her brain like honey to her fingers.

Daisy didn’t know what was wrong with Harry and didn’t understand what went wrong. They were perfect for each other, she’d thought so since primary school. She was trying hard to get them to speak, and resolve this. She hated it when they weren’t talking. It just didn’t feel right. She didn’t like it the first time when he got lost in the fame. It was weird seeing them not attached at the hip.

But still, she certainly hadn’t planned to bump into him with Y/n today, who had only just started to leave her flat a few weeks ago, she knew Y/n wasn’t ready. But they had no choice. Y/n had been the one to see him first, well, she unknowingly bumped into a passerby on the crowded street but when the skin against hers basically burnt she whipped her head at the feeling, a slight knowing tingled in her chest and she was met with the green eyes she saw at night, that tormented her daydreams and nightmares too.

Her eyes widened for a moment and Daisy spoke first which Y/n was pathetically thankful for. She thought she must’ve dreaming and in her worst nightmare. She dug her nails into her palm to see if she was awake.

When she felt a piercing pain she knew she was, and she wished the floor would open and swallow her whole never to be seen again.

“Haz? What are you doing here?” Daisy felt like she was interrupting something but knew Y/n needed her help. She was staring at him like he was a ghost, her skin had paled.

He smiled but it didn’t quite meet his eyes when he saw Y/n looking anywhere but at him. The gum on the floor seemed more interesting to her than her old friend Harry.

“Jus’ shopping.” He replied vaguely, as he gestured to the bags in his hands.

Daisy nodded. “Us too. Y/n needs her maid of honour dress, it’s super beautiful, we are on our way to pick it up.”

He smiled. “Oh, nice.”

He noticed the cup in Y/n’s hands. During the summer she loved Matcha it was her summer drink. She especially loved it from this little place around the corner, it was this hole-in-the-wall type of cafe called Lily’s. It’d been somewhere they’d go and study or get some snacks after a long day. It was a place from their years as roommates. When Y/n was particularly down during the summertime Harry would go and buy it for her and bring it home. It always cheered her up. One time this guy Mike stood her up on a date, and Harry bought her a matcha and walked her to her class. On the way they’d run into him walking with another girl and Harry threw his Iced Americano on him.

“Lily’s and shopping? Your favourite.” He said softly trying to laugh, and see her smile like normal, but when she looked at him, it looked like she was in pain. Then suddenly her face was blank. He didn’t know what she was feeling. She felt far from him and unreachable. He’d tried to call her phone but she’d never called back.

“Lily’s isn’t my favourite anymore. They changed their recipe.”

No, they hadn’t. She still loved it there, Y/n just wanted to make it obvious that he didn’t get to act like he knew her. Even though he did, he wasn’t allowed to. Not anymore.

Call her dramatic all you want. But being hurt by her oldest friend wasn’t something she could just brush underneath the carpet and pretend wasn’t there. And why did he have to be famous? If she’d finally forgotten about him for a while then she’d see him on telly, on her socials, on a fucking billboard, hear him on the radio. He was impossible to escape. He even invaded her dreams.

“Shame.”

She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to find a new place.”

Harry felt like that was targeted, and resisted the urge to clutch his chest.

There was a pause of the two of them staring at each other and then Harry looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you.”

Y/n felt a rush. I’ll see you.

She didn’t see him again until the rehearsal dinner a few weeks later during the peak of Summer heat. Daisy had decided to have her wedding in the countryside, it was beautiful. The hotel all the guests were staying in was this adorable Inn called The Butterfly. The venue was a gorgeous winery. It was perfect. Exactly what Daisy had wanted, cosy, homey, and small. But the winery itself was luxurious and decorated beautifully.

The wedding party was massive though. Full of family and friends. Y/n’s parents were there because they knew Daisy’s and James’ families quite well. Anne and Gemma too. Basically, all of Holmes Chapel was there. It felt like a fucking reunion, Y/n even saw her Kindergarten teacher Miss Prattley. Who happened to be Daisy’s second cousin.

The rehearsal dinner was at this swanky restaurant the winery owned not far from the Inn. It was booked out just for them. It had chandeliers and crisp white tables, crystal glasses for the drinks. Properly fancy, like that restaurant Harry took her to.

Y/n arrived early to the dinner with Penny by taxi. Penny was wearing a clean and elegant-looking suit, it was cream-coloured. Her hair was slicked back and she looked like she was from an eighties music video in the best way possible. She always had a clean, corporate look to her, Y/n said it was because she was a lawyer.

Y/n had gone for a more fitting look at the scenery and weather. She was in a floral sundress that she paired with soft pink heels and gold jewels. She looked beautiful as always. Gentle dewy makeup, and hair styled up. She looked simply adorable and soft.

When the two girls walked up the pebbled driveway they heard a crunch behind them, and there he was. He was in a billowy black button-up and deep brown dress pants. He had some of the buttons undone on his shirt exposing his tattoos, he looked fucking good. Y/n hated him for it. Penny smiled rushing to give him a hug and greeting. Harry had only just arrived today.

Penny rushed ahead of them both at the call of her name from someone (any excuse to get away from that she hated being in the middle). 

Harry and Y/n fell into step silently shoes crunching against the gravel, Y/n tried to slip. And though the tension was horrible, she still had a sense of comfort in Harry’s presence. She didn’t feel the need to talk or scream. He could surely tell by her cold and blunt mannerisms how she felt about the whole thing and how she felt about him. How could he not? He’d released a new album and she hadn’t said anything to him or even bothered to listen. Normally no matter how long it had been she always told him her favourite song and congratulated him. He’d received nothing from her that day.

Had she even listened? She had to know all the songs on that album were about her.

Y/n would like to once again say it wasn’t that he ended things with her, if he didn’t like her anymore that’s fine but it was so sudden. It's how he did it, and why? She was only left to conclude his reason was that he was embarrassed and that annoyed her. What was wrong with her? Was she not cool enough? Not famous enough? Not experienced enough? Not Kendell Jenner or a singer? She thought he liked that Y/n was from the past, but maybe he had changed too much and needed something new and shiny.

But seriously what was so wrong with her he had to run for the hills at the idea of anyone knowing he might’ve slightly liked her — or at the very least found her attractive. What was it? That’s what drove her crazy. 

Why? 

Why? 

WHY?

What drove her even crazier was that he wanted to go back to being old chums from Uni or home. She wasn’t his old friend anymore, she was just someone he had a lot of memories with now. They couldn’t revert back. Especially if he never tells her the truth. They’d have to be these horrible fake strangers.

“You look nice.” He said breaking the silence. The air was humid and thick outside.

And Y/n snapped her head in his direction as they began to walk inside the foyer, the heat had them both glistening in a light sheen of sweat. At least it was nice and cool inside, she found some relief from it. 

His comment was so outrageous to her that she said nothing at all.  

“So I’m getting the silent treatment?” She could feel his eyes on her cheek.

“Until I can think of a reason to talk with you, yeah.” She said clenching the purse in her hand and looking ahead at the room where everyone waiting inside.

“What does that mean?”

She turned her face and suddenly they were almost nose to nose, she hadn’t realised he was so close. “The only reason I’m here is for Daisy and James. My being here believe it or not isn’t to see you. Stop treating me like a hurt puppy. You don’t owe me your pathetic guilt. Just stop.”

He opened his mouth and shut it again.

“I’m not an ex-girlfriend but I’m not just Y/n either. Things are different now. Don’t treat it like something it isn’t. I don’t wish to be around you, and I’m here out of respect for our friends. I’m not going to make this nice weekend about us. Whatever the fuck this little thing is,” She said her hand pointing at the both of them.

He grabbed her arm and she didn’t pull away only looking at him defeated. “Why can’t we go back to the way we were before?” He said desperately.

She yanked her hand away and scoffed at that comment. “We made a mistake, and now we have to deal with it. What about that don’t you under—”

“Guys!!” Called James. “You coming?” He was dressed in blue his long brown hair brushed neater than normal.

Y/n turned and a faux smile returned to her face. “Yeah coming!”

Harry had never been on Y/n’s bad side before and he had to say it was much worse than he expected. He followed behind and Y/n held back from stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum when she saw she was seated beside Harry tonight, maid of honour and best man. For fucks sake.

The food was delicious, Y/n’s wine was great too and after a few, she was feeling more relaxed despite the intense presence to her left watching her the whole night. She started to laugh with others at the table, and when Anne came over to chat Y/n was kind and friendly. 

Clearly, Anne had no idea they were no longer speaking and still assumed they were together. “You two look so nice tonight.”

Y/n smiled. “Aww, thank you, Anne.”

“That is a nice necklace, Darling.” Said Anne looking at Harry’s neck. 

Y/n didn’t look until Harry said “Y/n got it for me, back in Uni.”

She whipped her head to look at his neck. There sat the pedant. She fought the urge to rip it off his neck. 

“Aren’t you just darling?” Said Anne with a smile getting up to go speak to someone, interrupting them. Y/n smiled as Anne stroked her cheek and when she left she relaxed back into her pout. Everyone was chatting to others and Y/n thought no one would notice if she slipped away for some fresh air. 

She walked outside clutching her purse and taking a seat on the concrete steps taking in a deep breath. She pulled out a secret cigarette one in case of emergencies and lit it. She knew it was silly, but she needed a distraction. The nicotine hit her throat and she shut her eyes. She needed a moment to herself.

And as she looked up at the clear night sky and tried to remember constellations she felt her heart rate slow and her skin unprickle. For a moment she felt relief but when she heard the door swing open and heard footsteps that were too familiar she knew she was going to have very little relief at all this weekend, her luck lately was apparently not there at all.

She continued smoking. 

“Can we talk? I don’t feel we finished our conversation earlier.”

Y/n shut her eyes. “There’s nothing to say, H.”

The nickname slipped from her mouth with little thought. She sounded so tired of it all, and Harry noticed by the way her shoulder slumped and her voice drawled out in a slower more rumbling sound.

“You seemed to have plenty ta’ say before. C’mon.”

She opened her eyes when she felt him sit down beside her, his thigh touched hers and she tried to ground herself. 

“I don’t have anything to say. I said it all.”

“You could explain why you’re ignoring me.”

She huffed out a scoff. “Are you joking?”

He caught her eye, and he finally saw some pain in them. Had the champagne gone to his head? He didn’t know why he was bringing it up. But seeing her again he couldn’t stay away. It was impossible, all the work he had done for months, the willpower he had, not to call her, text her, go around to her flat and get on his knees and beg for her to forgive him. That strength and discipline he’d had was flying right out the window the moment he was near her.

“Harry we messed up.”

He frowned hands rubbing against his knees. “Who says?”

“Me.” She turned to him throwing the finished cigarette on the floor and stomping on it. “I can’t even look at you right now, we ruined it. We should’ve- I should’ve known better than to be this stupid and reckless,”

“What was so reckless about it? We were just having fun and it came to a natural end.”

That one stung. It stung deep. So deep it burned. “I’m not like you! We both knew that. We both knew I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not carefree, I’m not sexy, I’m not casual, I’m not half in half out. You knew I wasn’t that girl, why did you make me believe I was?”

He didn’t know what that meant exactly. He didn’t know how to reply.

“I should’ve fucking known. You left me once and I should’ve known you’d do it again. I never know why. You must just get sick of me. A little warning would be nice but don’t worry this won’t happen again. You won’t have to hear from me again.”

“Y/n that’s not true and you know it.” He tried to argue but she was off on a tangent, and he wanted to hear what she said. He wanted to know how she felt. See if he could fix it.

“I’ll see you at these kinds of things and be polite, I’ll be nice to your mum, I’ll smile when you do well with another tour or album, but I won’t be with you. I won’t be something you can come back to when you’re bored of the models and singers and parties. I’ll be a real old friend, who isn’t in touch with you for a real reason. Maybe we will see each other at a Christmas party again, and I’ll smile and wave and we’ll both leave with our boring dates and that will be that, Harry.”

“Y/n, please do-”

“Oh, save it, Harry! you made a fool out of me! I feel fucking pathetic!” She was regretting her last wine, it made her lips loose and her words honest. She started to walk along the front terrace away from him. 

He followed grabbing her arm. “This isn’t the Y/n I know. This isn’t my Y/n.”

Y/n wanted to punch him, but the touch of his hand felt nice and familiar. 

She couldn’t believe he’d been the first boy she had fallen for. 

She couldn’t pinpoint a moment of when exactly she had, but upon reflection maybe it was on the monkey bars during primary school when Y/n lost her first tooth.

She’d fallen down off them after trying to skip to the third bar. Harry quickly jumped down and brushed the tanbark from her face and told her it was okay. He dug around looking for her tooth as she wailed about how she lost it and hugged her when she cried at her bloody hands. 

That night when she wrote to the tooth fairy she said, ‘My friend Harry found it for me so please be extra nice to him when he loses his first tooth he deserves even more money than I do.’ Her Mum still had the letter hidden in a drawer.

Or maybe it was during high school when she got her first period. It had been in the middle of P.E. and she’d leaked right through her skirt and it was obvious what had happened. Harry, who knew from his older sister Gemma, had been the one to go into the girl's bathroom after seeing her crying and talked to her as she refused to come out. He gave her his shorts and went to the school sick bay to find her some pads. 

Or maybe it was when she found Harry in her bed one night with red eyes cuddling her teddy bear, it was a weekend when her parents had left her alone, and Harry was stoned out of his mind speaking nonsense while reaching for her hand. He’d explained he needed a familiar face and that he found comfort in her room. She let him sleep there until the next morning.

Or maybe it was even when he flew her to Paris to see his show back in his One Direction days and they’d snuck champagne in a limo and he kissed her neck in a way that had her feeling so dizzy that she might fall.

Maybe her feelings had bloomed during the nights when he would ride to her house before the others, on his electric green-coloured bike, convincing her to sneak out with the rest of them and he’d bribe her with her favourite lollies and they’d all go sit on the roof of the school.

It could’ve been the night he scooped her into his arms at their school ball and danced with her until her feet gave out when her date had abandoned her.

She simply could not pinpoint when this had happened, but she thinks all along that she’d loved him, and been in love with him since that first day in mothers group when they were babies. 

She just never knew it had been this deeply until he left, again. It hurt everywhere. When she looked at this person in front of her it made no sense how he could be the boy who found her tooth, the boy who danced with her, the boy who kissed her, the boy who held her hand. How was this the same person? This man in front of her was not the person she’d thought.

“Well, the Harry I know would not have done this to me. I don’t understand you.”

“I just trying to pro-“

“Guys! Toast time!” Said Michael. Harry let go of her arm. 

Once again they were interrupted and Y/n wasn’t going to wait for another chance to escape. They went inside and Y/n flattened her hair which she was sure had fluffed up in the wind. Harry stayed close and began to whisper something which Y/n shushed and they walked into the room.

“Y/n! Speech!” Called Penny.

Y/n blushed under the attention. Grabbing her champagne, everyone tapped their glasses with their dessert spoon and soon all eyes were on her. She took a sip and began to think of what to say that wasn’t already in her Maid of Honour speech tomorrow.

“It has been an honour to know Daisy and James since preschool, it means I know all the juicy stuff! Like when he asked her to the school dance with an old boombox from his dad’s shed because Daisy explained she loved that film with John Cusack. In fact, it had actually been my idea, I was there holding him on my shoulders because he wanted to seem taller.” 

Everyone laughed and Y/n locked her eyes on the pair of them sitting together hand in hand.

“But in all seriousness, I have never met two people more perfect for each other. Daisy and James are like butter and bread. They make sense, they are solid, and they are unmovable. To you, it might be Sid and Nancy or Bonnie and Clyde or even Romeo and Juliet, but to me, it’s James and Daisy. They are love, they are what give me hope, and they are two of my very best friends. Congratulations, I am so thankful to be here to celebrate your love for each other. I love you both. Have a good night everyone!”

The night was smoother sailing from then on. It drew to around midnight, Daisy and James had both left earlier to go off and get a good night's sleep and Y/n was helping organise a bit of a cleanup of presents and other decorations she knew Daisy might want as mementos. 

She had thought everyone had left so when she heard the padding of shoes she was surprised and startled all at once. 

“Hi.” Harry slurred. “I know yeh’ don’t want to talk to me, but m’phone’s flat. Can I jus’ use yours ta’ call a taxi?”

Y/n had hired someone from the hotel to drive her back in twenty minutes and had already rung them up earlier to confirm it. “You can ride with me. The car will be here soon. Have some water.”

Even though she was boiling mad with him it didn’t matter, she would always help him. He listened curling up on the floor childishly and sipping some water. Y/n’s movements were slow and he could tell she was tired. 

They’d both made the journey today and had yet to see their rooms. Penny booked the rooms and organised everyone's roommates for the group, neither knew who they were with and hadn’t been to the Inn yet. When the car arrived Y/n realised how drunk Harry was and when he nearly slipped on the concrete steps she reached for him and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she helped him to the car.

She put him in first helping him flop into the spacey backseat and then joined him walking around the other side. As she opened the door his dark brown waves messily parted onto her seat, he was strewn out like a sunbaking lizard. She tried to make him sit up but he whined. His head shifted until it was on her thigh and she’d gotten in all the way. He stopped whining after that and let his head rest there on the silky material of her dress.

“M’ sorry.” He whispered. 

Y/n pretended she didn’t hear him, but let him rest his head. Drunk Harry was stubborn. They arrived quickly so she was thankful for it being close by she was losing her mind, as she helped him inside and walked to the front desk she asked who was under each room. Antsy to get him dropped off and finally have a chance for a moment to herself.

“Last names please?” Asked the lady at the front desk, she looked young, like a teenager, with very little interest in her job. She had a book flipped open on the desk that she had been reading when they came in.

“Styles and L/n.”

She handed them a key. “17.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry?”

“You two are in the suite upstairs, 17.”

She was going to kill Penny. She huffed a sigh, thanking the girl before she grabbed a firmer hold of Harry’s waist. Her fingers accidentally brushed the bare skin of his hip and the only feeling she felt was regret. Why did they ruin everything? Even if the sex was great, she’d wished she’d never done it. It physically hurt her to be near him. She felt a bruising weight in her chest that ached deeply and burned her throat.

As she helped Harry up the steps she was thankful both of their bags were already in the rooms having been dropped off earlier. She opened the door with the key while balancing Harry against her, and as she slipped inside she thought it looked nice for the next two days and definitely worth the fee they were asking. The room had a balcony that overlooked the little river and garden outside, a nice luxurious ensuite. But overall it looked cosy, with a fireplace which would’ve been nice in winter, no air-con though, and…one bed.

Well fuck, she’d have to call housekeeping tomorrow and ask for them to put two beds in. 

Harry was too drunk to notice right away until Y/n placed him on the bed and helped him get his shoes off. 

“Didn’t know.” He tried to explain big hands resting on thighs, and despite it all, she remembered them on her body.

Y/n sighed and turned when he began to strip himself of his clothes. She grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and moved over to the small couch in front of the TV, she doubted she would be able to sleep. It was stinking hot, and she hadn’t slept much lately. Not to mention she would hardly be able to with him right there.

“Where are y’goin’?” He asked as she began to make a bed on the tiny couch.

Y/n didn’t look at him as she did so. “Couch.”

“Y/n we can share a bed. Don’t be silly.”

Y/n was tired and tipsy and her back hurt from the long train journey here. “Fine.”

It wasn’t like they hadn’t before and she would deal with all of this tomorrow. Anyway, would she rather not sleep on a couch or a comfy-looking bed? She knew her answer.

Harry had chosen to sleep naked, it was very warm in the room, and he curled up on the left side facing the bathroom. Y/n grabbed some small silky pyjamas from her suitcase. It was a thin singlet and shorts that would help her feel as naked as possible in this heat. She walked to the bathroom past Harry and began to wash her face with some cool water and combed her hair smoothing out any tangles, as she opened the door she decided she would plait it back so it didn’t stick to her skin.

Harry’s eyes were shut but she couldn’t tell if he was actually asleep or not. His breathing had slowed to a normal tempo and as she slid into the other side beside him the rumble of his voice startled her. 

“Cute pjs.”

She let out a huffed sigh and slapped her arms against the cool duvet. “Shut up.”

Y/n willed herself to sleep, counting until she got bored, and tried to do some deep breathing, but nothing was working the heat was too much. She felt like she’d been tossing and turning for centuries. Eventually, she kicked the duvet off and sat up, checking the alarm clock beside the bed. It was nearly three. Harry was fast asleep. She got up and walked onto the balcony, sitting down in one of the chairs they had out there as she let the evening breeze hit her. Though it was hot it was cooler outside. She supposed it didn’t help that Harry was like a fucking heater. He ran so hot and even without his arms wrapped around her he still radiated heat like the sun.

She knuckled her eyes pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin as she yawned; sleep felt close and far all at once. The breeze made her shut her eyes and she enjoyed the peaceful noise of frogs in the river, and crickets chirping, and let her thoughts melt away. When she opened her eyes she didn’t know if time had passed or not, and did not remember falling asleep.

She wondered what had woken her up, it wasn’t the sun, though the sun did not seem far from her. The sky was at that stage where it was a lighter blue than night, it was just a few minutes before the sun was going to bleed colours into the sky.

It wasn’t an alarm, it wasn’t day yet, and the wind was still gentle and cooling. 

“Wha’ are y’doin’ out here?” When her eyes finally focussed she realised it was Harry who had woken her up. His hand was pressed to her shoulder, and his face looked puffy and confused.

Y/n was too half asleep to get the words out of her mouth. 

“Just come inside.” He grabbed at her wrist pulling her up into his chest. He was still a bit drunk but his skin had begun to pale in sobriety and a deep sadness filled his face that Y/n wondered if was related to her, she hoped he hurt a little bit like she did.

His hand hovered over her waist and pushed her to the bed.

When they began to settle into bed, Y/n felt her limbs sinking into the soft mattress. Harry had turned the fan on higher and they both lay on their backs staring at the white ceiling. Her eyes were shutting on her.

“Can I hold you?” He whispered and she felt like it could’ve been her imagination.

Until he cut himself off he shifted back to look at the roof. “Sorry.”

Y/n didn’t know if it was because she didn’t get closure, because she missed him, or because she was sad, or simply because she slept better with him there, or even because she’d had a few too many but she rolled over and pressed her back into his chest.

“One last time.” She said before shutting her eyes. His arms wrapped around her tightly like he was worried she’d run away like earlier. His fingers danced patterns along her skin and Y/n fell asleep quickly, Harry did too. 

The next morning Harry’s warmth had disappeared and the room was empty. There was no water running he had disappeared and somehow managed to make the bed with her still in it.

Y/n didn’t know whether to be grateful or sad that he had left. She rolled over to the bedside table and saw the time was a few minutes to nine. She sat up scratching her hair and stood up walking to the bathroom she washed her face, put on some moisturiser and sunscreen and slipped into a pair of comfy loose pants and a singlet. She slid into the first pair of shoes she saw and walked off to hunt for some food, mainly just a coffee and something for her throbbing head. She needed an aspirin, now.

The Inn was so quaint it felt like she was in a weird family of hundreds of strangers, it felt like a home, not a hotel. She could smell bacon and followed the scent like a dog in a cartoon. She got herself a plate and a coffee and pinched a muffin too and decided she’d go sit outside. The sun always helped her hangovers.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch that wrapped around the whole house full of comfy chairs, rocking ones, swinging ones, padded ones, and benches. She walked down to the edge saw a little padded seat and sat herself down. She enjoyed breakfast, slowly biting and digesting, the wedding was tonight. Starting in the late afternoon. Y/n had a while to prepare herself. She needed to get a lot of things done considering she was the maid of honour.

She needed to make sure both her dress and Daisy’s were ready before tonight. Daisy’s dress was this vintage seventies flowing gown like something Stevie Nicks would wear, they found it in this dead lady's things that were being auctioned off. Y/n originally went because she always found good furniture at those kind of things and was in need of a new coffee table. Daisy just happened to have a free Sunday morning, and by luck they'd found the wedding dress. This lady was cool, with great taste in clothes and coffee tables. Y/n found a panther with a glass table top for her living room. She loved her new edition, it was as eccentric as she'd wanted.

Y/n’s dress was this paled yellow dress, seventies style too. All soft and layered. A floral wrap and some baby pink heels. She was going to do her hair in big rollers and put on some blue eye shadow. She’d found the dress in a vintage shop in Soho and just had to get it. It had this gorgeous white lace trimming and it was the perfect fit for her. How could she pass it up?

When she was up to the final dregs of her coffee she felt someone sit down beside her. 

“Sorry about last night.” That was all he said softly looking down at his feet.

She looked up from her legs. “Yeah, champagne.” She said, shrugging. As if to say 'What can you do?'.

He was in a running getup. He looked sombre at her, hands resting on his thighs hoping they could talk. But Y/n didn't seem interested in talking to him. He wished things could be different. He wanted to say that to her, explain. But without any alcohol or courage, he couldn't find the words.

“Gotta’ run.” She said before he could say anything else and all he could do was watch her retreat away. He let out a big sigh and stood up heading off to find James.

Later that afternoon Y/n saw Harry again. This time he was in a blue suit and they were walking down the aisle together. Their arms were interlocked and Y/n was holding a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, they both said nothing just walked plastering smiles on their faces for everyone seated watching. Having him close to her again was intoxicating, he smelt all woodsy, and of fresh mint, tobacco, and burnt vanilla. He smelt like Harry, and she'd missed him. She tried not to pay attention to him and just be civil. They moved to their separate sides at the alter faced each other, eyes meeting for a moment.

Y/n honestly looked gorgeous. Like a painting that belonged in a museum.

James looked great too. He was in a white button-down and black flared slacks. His long hair was down in waves and his moustache was neater than usual, he looked excited. His energy rubbed off on everyone else and everyone was getting antsy to celebrate.

Y/n smiled across at James excitedly. Harry was patting his shoulder and the pair of them were giggling about something and it reminded Y/n of assembly during school. Those two always got them all in trouble for chatting during school, devils. When the piano began everyone silenced, it was a cover of 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac on the piano. Daisy's Uncle Jay was very talented on the piano and was playing it happily.

The venue was perfect all beautiful flowers and candles lit everywhere, and Daisy’s looked so so so beautiful. She looked so breathtaking that Y/n felt her eyes well up as she watched her best friend walk down the aisle. Daisy’s father Joe was walking alongside her. She was so happy for them.

As the ceremony began no one could keep their eyes off Daisy’s radiance and her dazzling smile.

James' voice was soft and broke as he cried happily. “I have loved you since before I could understand the concept. Thank you for being beautiful, funny, and just my gorgeous girl. I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of my life Daisy, and grow old with you. I am so lucky you want to be my wife."

Harry found his eyes wandering over to Y/n as James' words echoed through the hall. This whole celebration of love was making him awfully upset that he wasn’t with the person he loved today. He wasn’t able to hold her, kiss her, make love to her, make her laugh, make her mad, he wasn’t able to be by her side and pester her with his tickles and teasing. He’d missed Y/n so much, he’d tried getting in touch but knew it would all be a waste she didn't want to talk to him. 

He’d written a whole album about her for Christ's sake, he pined after and missed her more than he thought possible. Of course, he loved her there was no question about it. Selfishly he wanted her back, even if it meant they wouldn’t have privacy with the public. He’d loved her even last night when she’d been so rude and short with him. He wanted to scream it out. I LOVE YOU.

But when their eyes met and she looked at him like he was glass, right through him, he felt invisible and he found himself frowning and trying to focus back on the ceremony. She would never forgive him, would she?

The dinner and reception were hands down the best part of the evening. They’d popped champagne as the sun set and all the group began dancing together joyfully, enjoying mountains upon mountains of delicious food. It was like a Christmas dinner table fit for kings. Chickens, turkeys, fish, salads, lots of crispy potatoes, mashed ones, sweet treats, breads, everything your heart could desire. 

Daisy and James were so happy, giggling together and kissing sloppily as they cut the massive chocolate-layered cake. They stayed together the whole night, holding each other close and chatting away to everyone invited. 

Everyone was dancing and singing together on the dance floor. Y/n was spinning around laughing with Penny and Finn, and her Mum too. She was happy, it was the perfect celebration. Harry kept bumping into old friends, family, and everyone it felt like a reunion and being back to when he was a young teenager at his mum's New Year's parties. He danced too and had quite a few tequilas.

The night was completely wonderful. Full of fun and such a cosy wedding. 

It reminded him an awful lot of the first wedding he ever went to. His Mum's. 

Anne and Robin had announced their engagement a few months prior. It was a beautiful day then too, the second of June, he was nineteen at the time and Y/n was his date to the wedding. They’d come home from Uni for Summer break for a few weeks together, which they would have whether they had the wedding or not. The road trip was to get home but it didn't bother them at all, they just sang together taking turns driving and playing ‘I Spy’. Y/n had been invited on her own by invitation in the mail from Anne, but Harry said they should go together Y/n thought it made sense too.

“Don’t see why you didn’t ask Vanessa.” She said changing in the backseat while Harry covered his eyes with his hands for her privacy and blocked the window from over the car's back facing her. They were on the side of the road changing before the wedding. They’d driven home the morning of and needed to get ready there. They still had a bit of drive before they got there, but Y/n needed to do her hair and makeup in the car.

“Who?” He said. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know your own girlfriend's name, H.”

He laughed, “Oh yeah, right. That Vanessa.”

Y/n tugged her dress up over her bra and stepped out of the car with the zip undone. “Can you do me up?”

He uncovered his eyes and his hands grazed her bare back, the dress showed a peak of her lacey pink undies. He swallowed thickly and zipped it up. “It's pretty, Love.”

She spun around and laughed at herself. It was very pink, but she thought this was the perfect time to wear it. 

“It’s not too pink?" She asked.

Her dress was this bright fuchsia colour with no straps, it was very 80s. Puffy bottom and it was short too.

He shook his head. “No, no such thing. Y’look beautiful.”

She kissed his cheek in thanks.

They got in the car and Y/n began to roll her hair up into some rollers and do her makeup. If you didn’t know them you’ve assumed they’d been dating for years with how in sync they were, and how comfortable they were around each other.

On the drive there Harry was staring off into the distance of the road. He looked gorgeous today, hair all unruly and dimples on his cheek.

“So why didn’t you invite her? Your girlfriend already hates me. She won’t be happy now.” She said applying a nude lip in the rearview.

“I didn’t want to be with her. I wanted to be with you.” He said looking over like it was the most casual thing to say.

Y/n’s heart swelled and she just looked at him. When they arrived Anne was waiting for them inside the church. Harry grabbed Y/n’s hand to guide her and they walked down the entrance their shoes clacking on the tiles. They found Anne with other members of Harry’s family and she rushed over looking picture-perfect. Kissing both of them on their cheeks in greeting, she'd missed them dearly. 

“You two look gorgeous! So glad you came together. Y/n, Love, your Mum’s inside already she’s antsy to see you both. The ceremony doesn’t start for a few more minutes.”

“Alright, see you out there.” Said Y/n giving her one last hug and Harry did the same whispering something before grabbing her hand once more because it felt natural as they walked into the venue. 

Y/n’s Mum spotted them and instantly waved them over. 

“Baby! Harry!” She called rushing over, she was in a nice floral dress that was blue and looked very dressed up. 

She grabbed them both. “Oh my goodness, the pair of you look just stunning! Harry, when are you going to steal Y/n up before someone else does?” 

Harry just laughed at Y/n's Mum in response knowing how much she tried to play Cupid over the years, Y/n rolled her eyes at her and Y/n’s mother stroked her cheek. “My gorgeous girl.”

After the ceremony the two of them had a few drinks and danced, being few of the only others their age who were actually willing to dance. Harry’s hands were on her waist twirling her about and she fell into his arms giggling. 

She hugged him close before they were both pulled away by relatives. Harry had to go speak with some of his cousins from out of town and Y/n was called over by James' older brother Jimmy about some story she needed to tell someone. 

When Harry finally finished talking to his family he searched the crowd for Y/n but her hot pink dress was nowhere to be spotted. He frowned stepping away from the room.

He went for a wander outside walking through the hallway and stepping outside into the fresh summer air. He spotted her sitting over by the steps that led down to a duck pond.

The gravel crunched underneath his Chelsea boots and she looked over smiling. “Hi, Harry.”

“Sneak away did ya’?”

She nodded. “You know me.”

She had a habit of disappearing at parties. He sat down beside her, their thighs pressing together as he nudged her. She nudged him back. 

“I love you, Babe, you know that?” He said, face crinkled in a smile that was specific just to when he was with her.

She looked over at him, chest aching. “I love you too.” She said softly resting her head on his shoulder he wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her close.

“Do you think we will be friends forever?” He asked out of the blue. 

No doubt in her voice, she replied instantly. “You and me, mate, we’re forever.”

The memory made his chest ache and he shut his eyes placing a hand on his heart hoping the sensation would stop soon. But when her laugh echoed from behind him, he knew he was fucked, totally and completely fucked.

As the evening grew later and a blanket of stars and black had swallowed the sky Harry found himself outside walking to a bench to hide away and have a moment to himself, he needed a breather. He’d had a few drinks that had made his knees wobbly as he walked, which is why he felt his brows furrow as he squinted staring ahead. What was that? Was his drunken eyes playing tricks on him? There was a lump that looked like a person lying on the grass. 

“‘Ello?” He called out. 

The lump rolled over and as he stepped closer he realised it was the familiar face of Y/n. His Y/n.

“Oh, Y/n.”

She made a grumble of a noise.

“Wha’ yeh’ doin’ down there?”

“Hiding.” She said.

He looked down at her. “From?”

“You.” She replied.

He sighed heavily. “How many more times am I gonna have ta’ say sorry before you forgive me?”

She sat up. “You give me fucking whiplash, Harry.”

“What? How?”

“First you want me, you're crazy about me. Even if it was just sex, can’t keep your hands off.” She started and Harry could tell she was drunk too, her lips were loose and she was saying anything she thought. 

“I’ve always wanted you.” He said.

She sat up on her knees. “See! You say shit like this, but then you just fucking left.”

He bit his lip looking down at his shoes. “I didn’t want to.”

She stood up. “What are talking about? You're a complete and utter mindfuck. Do you just like seeing me hurt, H?” Her hand fell to her chest like his had earlier. Did it hurt her physically too? To be apart?

He felt his eyes prick with tears and his chest burn with sadness. “‘Course I fucking don’t! I did it to protect you, Y/n.”

“Protect me?! From what, you?!” She raised her voice, hands going into her hair frustratedly pushing her hair back from her face. The air was so hot, crickets chirped in the grass, and she felt mosquitos biting her skin. 

“Don’t you see? Y/n, I’m not right for you. I won’t be able to protect you from them! I can’t do it to you.”

“Them? Who? Do what?” She said feeling her heartbeat speed up at the sight of his eyes watering. Did he actually feel sad about this? She was so fucking confused.

“Be with you…” She felt crushed by his words. “..the world…I can’t stop the hate. Paparazzi or tabloids. I won’t be able to provide you with a normal easy relationship, Y/n. I can’t put you through it. You deserve better. We won’t have any privacy. Surely you’ve seen everything people are saying.”

She sighed, “I don’t care about what people have to say about us, Harry! What do you? You clearly don’t want me, just say it. If you really did, you wouldn’t care what anyone else says. I don’t.”

“How could you even say that? Of course, I do!”

“That’s news to me.” She scoffed. The moonlight lit her face, and though she was acting strong he knew she was very sad.

“I thought you knew.” He said his voice breaking, eyes not once leaving her face.

“Knew what?” She looked at him.

“I love you.”  There it was. Out in the air. For her ears to hear. He'd said it. Not in a casual friend way, not when he was drunk and all lovey-dovey. He'd said it properly.

She stayed silent breathing deeply, staring right at him.

A beat passed. 

“Don’t do that…” She said tears slipping.

“Y/n, I thought you knew! I thought you knew from the minute I laid eyes on you. I thought you knew!” His hands flew out as he spoke with this urgency in his tone. 

How could she not know? He’d only ever had eyes for her. He didn’t care about any other person. He’d have dropped any of them for her no question asked. He could’ve been at his own wedding years from now and left at her call sprinting to wherever she was. He thinks no matter how many years pass he will always feel that way for her. No matter how much she hates him, no matter what. She’s the one with his heart in her hands.

“If I’d have known…” She didn’t finish her sentence trying to process what he was saying.

He stepped forward hands landing on her arms bending close to her face so they were eye to eye. She watched him closely as he desperately spoke. 

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, I can’t help it, everyone knows. I always thought you did too.”

His hand fell onto her cheek.

“Harry..” She began to cry. He wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“I never wanted you to be hurt. I never wanted any harm to come your way. And I’m so far from perfect, but I fucking love you. More than the entire universe around us. I’d give it all up for you. I would’ve when I was nine and I will when I’m 80. I’ll always love you. And I'm sorry I can't be perfect for you, but it won't change how much I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered looking up at him. His arms had wrapped around her back pulling her flush against him.

“Because I’m a daft fucking prick.”

And suddenly kissed him. Her lips landed on his hard pulling him down to her by his tie. She pulled away for a second to whisper against his lips. 

“Such a dickhead.” She uttered softly, the rough words sounded endearing, melting from her lips like honey.

“But your dickhead, hopefully.” He replied. 

She just kissed him very hard in response and he scooped her up into his arms, her legs wrapped around him and his wobbly knees buckled, the alcohol providing no help whatsoever, landing them both on the grassy field. Harry's back lying on the grass and Y/n sitting on his lap. 

She giggled. “I love you too by the way.”

“Phew.” He said and she looked down at him rolling her eyes at him. He was looking up at her all besotten.

“Those eyes.” 

“Only get like that for you.”

Then they kissed some more and probably would’ve until sunrise if not for the shout of their names to come inside. They ran through the field hand in hand, stumbling and laughing like idiots in love. Because that’s what they were.

[scenesniper]

Can I rq some nsfw mike morton hcs? Thank u!! 💕

☆ mike morton ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / mike morton x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / kinkwear, strap-ons, mentions of roleplay, food play

word count / 1,369 words

author's note / i went a bit overboard while writing up the draft of this so i included the sfw headcanons (he's my main in identity v so i was super happy to get this request, thank you anon.). this man is KINKY. he'll be the type to go "zoo wee mama!" when you take off your top and i'm a adamant believer of that.

SFW

☆ mike morton, with his impressive set of skills showcasing for all to see. everyone can agree his ability of an acrobat is far too overqualified as each show, there is always a different sort of opening act that mike produced. and yet, that is all there is to him people would say. as the true star, sergei, the backbone of the circus. and with this information that everyone knows all too well, there comes insecurity.

☆ mike is an insecure man, despite not showing it. even he refuses to acknowledge that fact that really, every fiber of his being is burning with jealousy and the fear of abandonment. he will do anything to keep his stability and position at the circus.

☆ that doesn’t mean mike isn’t naturally a lively, bright faced man. in fact, that personality of his is why many can agree he’s very easy to talk to, very outgoing. someone who’d always include you in the conversation if he notices you straying to the side. he is one to be around, but many are hesitant to get close to him. after all, a friend to all is a friend to none.

☆ getting to know him was quite easy. he’s practically an open book and is not one to hide his insecurities. after all, he’s always scrambling for ideas on how to liven up this performance. whether it be adding explosive balls on stage and experimenting with nitrate bombs, anything dangerous to keep his place of an acrobat.

☆ you caught his attention while attending one of his performances, you, all the way up in the front with your eyes all on him. he could feel that intentive gaze and was flustered by your stare, causing him to nearly mess up on his performance and almost caused an explosion with the bomb he was juggling with.

☆ you’ll see him chasing after you after the after party of the show, with his hand waving for you. “please! a moment of your time!”

☆ after that, he would frequently visit you in town. always talking about his day before asking you of your own, getting lost in the tiniest of the smallest details to tell you of, filled with lots of jokes. just to see your lips curl into a smile or even a laugh from you that he values. those quips would turn into flirtatious comments to an invitation for a date.

☆ he’s an affectionate man and loves any form of physical touch from you and all types of kisses that you present to him. he’d always surprise you with his sudden kisses, whether it be neck kisses, nape kisses, or even your ear. he especially loves it when you kiss his cauliflower ears, something he’s been very insecure about after an accident in producing one of his props. he’s such a dork he once tried to spiderman kiss you as you try to find him in his dressing room, completely catching you off guard and him failing as he immediately lost balance and fell.

☆ mike is fairly muscular. even if you aren’t on the strong side, he'll love to sit on your lap, staring down on you and his hands wrapped around your shoulders as he whines and babbles on about just everything. “i missed you so much oh my god you have no idea what happened today.”

NSFW

☆ mike morton, who’d perform to the crowd with his compelling acts but behind the stage, he’s imagining ravaging you after the show.

☆ the entire time is full of him poking fun and teasing you. you’ll be taking off your clothes and he’ll be laying down, whistling. “yoohoo, hey handsome! damn, that bodyyyyy!” in other instances, when he’s desperate for skinship, he’ll be hurriedly taking off your clothes whilst still admiring. “you’re such a cute birdie.”

☆ he just loves to destroy the mood with his big mouth, doesn’t he? (it’s all in good fun, swear) he loves to tease you with not only his words, but his actions. he’ll be blowing hot breath on your ear, just to see your cute little shiver, drawing circles on your clit. beg him to taste you, put it in, do anything to you. as long as you beg him. he loves to feel and be wanted, especially from you.

☆ mike has a length of 6 and a half or so inches, his width a pretty substantial amount. he’s not a very a p and v type of guy, he’ll prefer other methods of pleasuring. overstimulating one area, having you sucking down on him or giving you oral. he loves to just taste.

☆ he’ll be the type to be very verbal in bed, he has no shame at all. he’ll be moaning and groaning so many types of phrases, slurring out his words. “oooohhhhh yesss bbabyyyyyy.”

☆ giving him head, he loves when you hollow out your cheeks. he’ll be pulling your head, leading your head on where to go. even in instances, he’ll be so lost in it, tears are brimming this lashes and he’ll be pushing your head to the point he’s choking you with his cock.

☆ while he’s down on you, praise him on how well he did on stage today. tell him how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, how creative and funny he is. how nobody will ever make you feel this good but him. scrunch up his curls and don’t be shy to be verbal, he loves any sort of validation to know that he’s pleasuring you well.

☆ he’s very sexually expressive in bed and loves to experiment, which can range from strap-ons, roleplay, and food play. he’s very open minded and always open to new ideas coming from you, he’ll love to fulfill it!

☆ speaking of kinkwear, he loves to stiletto heel boots with lingerie and loves it especially when you wear lingerie was well. just the sight of you in leather and lace and him all dressed up for you, it’s almost like you’re preparing for a performance with him.

☆ adding on to food play, he loves to fill your entire body (especially your nipples and bottom) of cream and to just suck and lick you alive. he swears you’re already so sweet but to taste all his sweets altogether, he loves it. he’d make cute little swirls on your nipples of cream, lapping it like a dog. "oh boy! what are we having! carrot cake? strawberry shortcake? COTTON CANDY?”

☆ he loves straps-on, even making one for you to wear to sink him in. just the fact that you can fulfill him with all and any types of love makes him emotional.

☆ mike is an extremely emotional man, driven by his feelings. he loves to go fast but he’s an equal sucker for a slower pace, to ravish this beautiful time together with you.

☆ aftercare with him would be bathing together, your bodies pressing together. just to feel the warm water and your warmth, he simply just wants to be held by you. he’s so safe that truly, he doesn’t want to entertain the idea of this ever ending.

☆ he doesn’t particularly clean up after, in fact, after finishing your guys’ shower, he’ll urge you back in bed with him (the sheets all soaked with cum). he’ll fall asleep with his hands around your waist, his head buried on your chest. he wants to be enveloped by you, to know everything is alive. that you’re alive and everything is real.

☆ waking up, you’ll always see him still asleep. in reality, most of the time he wakes up much later than you but far too comfortable to want to get up. he’s a man child like that. you’ll always find his arm to be draped over your waist in a tight hold, he’s far too content to get up to go to morning practice.

☆ mike morton, as everyone says, is a magnificent acrobat. too overqualified but too in love with hullabaloo. he is an impressive man with the possibility of being thrown away at any given moment. he will do anything to stay important to you.

[batsplat]

Oh im obses whit your blog like you are such a great historian on vale and love the way you analys stuff admire the way of writing all of your toughs in such a corent way 🩷🩷🐹

this is so nice, thank you!! okay so this ask was initially sent in response to this post about how marc knew what a dick valentino was to his rivals and appreciated/wished to emulate that side of him, in particular in the context of copying the jerez pass. and... well, there is one more follow-up post to that I did want to make. it didn't really work within that post because it's pretty speculative, but I think it's fun! here goes

so you know argentina 2018, right, big drama, reconciliation over, bla bla (I promise this is going in a more fun direction, stick with me here). there's a bit of marc's post-race media scrum that I am a wee bit obsessed with. or well, two specific lines, one in english (0:00) and one in spanish (1:02) - I've included the full responses for context, but in this post I'm really only interested in those two lines

in english:

But he was in the past also 25 years old, and will remember, everybody.

and in spanish:

He has also been 25 years old and, well, I hope that people also remember.

... 25 years old, did you say?

okay, look, fair warning. the rest of this post is going to be reading too much into what was probably an off-handed comment - even if, I'd just like to point out, it is something he felt the need to say twice. but let's just have some fun here, and read too much into it. as a treat

so obviously the most generic way to read this is him saying 'well valentino used to be really aggressive on-track too, so people shouldn't be criticising me more than they did him'. thing is, I wouldn't say there was that much of a noticeable decline in how aggressive valentino was being, and 2017 did still feature some major scraps where valentino very much got his elbows out (cf assen and phillip island, I included a bit more detail on this in the marc race rec post). sure, valentino did increasingly have his reservations about some of the behaviour of younger riders, so maybe he was less aggressive now relative to the field... but I just don't feel like that's quite what this line is implying. it's also not about valentino making 'mistakes' in general, because there would have been no reason to refer back to past-valentino in that regard... the 25 year old version of valentino was considerably more error-free than the 39 year old

so then, my theory is that it's about valentino's controversies! that's what people "will remember", right - it's not the general style of riding, not just innocent mistakes, it's the times when valentino caused a bit of a stir on and off the race track. now, again, you could go the generic route here and say 'ah well maybe marc is just thinking of all the mess valentino got himself involved in when he was younger, from getting into a fist fight with max biaggi at age 22 to pissing off casey stoner through his aggressive riding at laguna at age 29'. but let's say for a moment that marc was thinking a bit more specifically than that... after all, if we're just talking about valentino controversies in general, surely marc should be able to think of a rather more recent example where valentino, like marc at argentina 2018, caused another rider to crash and was subsequently penalised for his riding? of course, marc probably didn't want to bring up that particular controversy - but it's still interesting he feels the need to refer back to a younger version of valentino at all, the fact that this crossed his mind in the first place to make him bring it up unprompted while making his case. so maybe when marc, who is after all a known valentino rossi fan, refers twice to what valentino was like at "25 years old"... he is in fact thinking of what valentino was like when he was 25 years old. and in what year would that be? well, here's the thing. it would be 2004

readers of the sete post can probably guess where I'm going with this, but let's just take a moment to review what specific on-track incidents marc could be thinking of here. let's give him a little bit of extra leeway in terms of the age, even though I trust marc to be more on top of the exact age gap than valentino was in times past. let's throw in one year either way, so 2003 to 2005, and draw up a list of any particularly controversial races valentino was involved in. here's what I've got:

assen 2004 - valentino executed a hard overtake for the win on the last lap on sete gibernau. he's not in complete control and almost loses the front at the next corner, which would have taken them both out

qatar 2004 - after his team rubber up his grid slot the night before, valentino gets slapped with a back-of-the-grid penalty. he ends up crashing out of the race and burns his relationship with sete in the aftermath

jerez 2005 - at a time when their relationship is already very chilly, valentino and sete engage in another duel. valentino executes a block pass with contact at the final corner and is booed by the crowd

motegi 2005 - the first chance to seal that year's title, and one valentino would very much have liked to take to spite honda. an unwise overtaking attempt on melandri leaves both on the ground

so, my guess is that neither assen nor motegi were really big enough controversies to fit the bill, though maybe they stuck in marc's mind as instances of 'reckless riding' that he includes in a more generic internal understanding of young valentino rossi. we do of course know for a fact that marc was more than aware of what happened at jerez 2005, not least because he, you know, directly copied that move twelve years later (again, link to the relevant post). like marc in argentina 2018, valentino barged into a rival in rather controversial fashion, and obviously it also made the relationship between him and said rival deteriorate still further. sure, you can't really argue the move was 'as bad' as argentina 2018, but as far as I'm concerned it has the same general vibe

you know what else has the same general vibe? here's a race description for you:

a 25 year old rider is sent to the back of the grid for a reason they consider unfair

they proceed to deliver a phenomenal performance even by their lofty standards, quickly working their way up to a position that seemed unattainable to them

they barge a rival out of the way in their impatience, reaching back to apologise for the move

the race ends poorly for them and they fail to score any points

afterwards, their relationship with a rival is ruined as a result of the events of the race, and the whole thing remains a lingering controversy for years to come

one race that fits this description is, of course, argentina 2018. the other is qatar 2004. there's obviously plenty of details that are significantly different - valentino's move on barros is less egregious and far less controversial, and his race ends in the gravel rather than with a post-race time penalty. still, that start of valentino's? the impatience? the post-race fury? the repercussions this race had? come on, look at the race footage I included in the qatar post and tell me there's not a little bit of a shadow of that qatar fury to the argentina recklessness

this is a point I snuck into the marc race recs post, where I included this excerpt from a post-argentina 2018 write-up:

phillip island 2003, hm? as it happens, in the qatar post, I did include a bit of the autobiography that compares those two specific races:

so, phillip island 2003: a performance that made everyone wonder just how much valentino had left in reserve to draw on whenever he needed it. what valentino is saying here is that this performance wasn't a result of him holding back in all the other races that year - this was speed that was accessible to him only in that moment because he was so angry. so yes, maybe it's a valid question to wonder what would have happened at phillip island 2003 if it hadn't just been the ghost of his bike that had to pick its way through the stragglers. then again, valentino says it's not just rage that does the trick for him - it's controlled rage... which is all well and good, except when you lose control

and see also:

that's what argentina 2018 is all about, isn't it? it's a performance that's rooted in impatience, in restlessness, in frustration - where marc tuns his "rage into pure speed", as valentino would put it, in a hubristic dismissal of the rest of the field. ideally, the two of them channel those emotions to spur themselves on to special, signature performances... but sometimes, it gets the better of them. it got the better of marc that day in argentina and cost him the tentative peace with valentino. at qatar, it could have cost valentino the title

(also shades of this in jerez 2020 - an error sets the stage for some extraordinary pace before it all goes wrong) (catalunya 2003 is a fun more compact nephew to that race without the unhappy ending)

now, look, am I saying that marc was really referring back to qatar 2004 specifically, a race that had happened fourteen years earlier, when making an off-hand remark in a post-race media scrum as he tried to do some damage control in the wake of one of the most controversial races of his career? well, no. he could have been! but it's unlikely. maybe he's shit at maths and was actually thinking about laguna 2008 after all. still, I would like to once again point out that he felt the need to mention valentino's behaviour at age twenty five not once but twice. he's telling us that he wants people to remember what valentino was like at that age, and in the most literal sense I am doing what he's asking for. surely it's worth at least noting that there just happens to be a race where valentino was at that exact age and his temper overcame his rationality, leading to him making a costly error... surely it's worth acknowledging this...

even if marc wasn't actually obliquely referring back to that race or indeed any of the races I mentioned above, of course the parallels between valentino's foibles and marc's are in any case interesting. it speaks to how they get those special performances out of themselves, the similarities in how they operate in that regard... but of course also in how they both sometimes stray rather close to the limit, how they repeatedly flirt with crossing the line. a stubbornness and a hubris and a rage that can sometimes lead to disaster for the both of them. and another thing - who knows if marc was thinking about qatar 2004, but he must have been thinking about something. that's the point of that jerez post, right... marc is valentino's successor in so many ways, he has fashioned himself in valentino's image - and he keenly grasps and remains aware of all the different aspects of that legacy. he's the most accomplished of valentino's students and he felt strongly that what he did in that race in argentina was in some way comparable to what valentino himself had been doing at his age, part of the same tradition even. yes, to some extent marc is obviously accusing valentino of hypocrisy here: how can you judge me when you were once young and foolish too? his tone isn't exactly filled with remorse either, is it, he's pretty feisty in that media scrum! still, there's something more to it... something almost poetic to the whole thing, wouldn't you say? valentino had just accused marc of ruining the sport - and in response marc wants people to remember that they are just the same

[existentialcrisistime]

D&D: Honor Among Thieves (Xenk/Edgin) fic rec list:

These are just based on those I've read and loved so far. There are so many incredible works coming out of this new fandom that I'm sure I'll have enough recs for a second post in another month or so.

Because this turned onto a bit of a long post, the recs are below the cut.

I've marked the rating by each fic, but please do mind the tags!

Curse of the Green Hag by @moorishflower (E, 16k)

Xenk contracts a fuck-or-die curse and turns up on Edgin's doorstep for the first time since Neverwinter. Also contains an excellent cameo from Holga, a bit of bondage, Xenk's first time, and A Lot of emotions. And of course the actual smut is top tier. Already wanting to read this one again.

High Praise Indeed by enchantedsleeper (T, 3k)

Xenk stops by Holga and Edgin's cottage to find Edgin in the throes of a breakup. In the process of trying to persuade Edgin of his many worthy qualities, he accidentally reveals a little too much. Short and very sweet, with cameos from Holga and Kira. Would recommend for fans of pining idiots.

in the absence of truth by @floralprintshark (E, 13k)

Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't. Yes, a 5+1 things, but oh it's so much more than that! There are heists and hijinks, accidental asshole Edgin, uncertain and inexperienced Xenk, and a hint of polyamory between Simon and Doric, but the whole party are featured and written perfectly here. Also contains Many emotions. I sent this one to the group chat, and we were ALL screaming about it (in the best way)

Universal Glue by Korwwa (E, 10k)

A rescue mission goes wrong, and Xenk and Edgin get caught in, yes, a glue trap. The premise may sound like a crack fic, but it's definitely taken seriously, whilst still being very fun. Plus a wee bit of angst for (delicious) seasoning.

Scraping the Moss Off the Standing Stones by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (E, 4k)

Established relationship, Xenk comes home after a long time away and Edgin takes care of him. Oh boy, this fic sure packs a lot into just 4k words, and I feel like the author just Gets how I imagine Xenk - always seen as holy or evil, but just wanting to be treated like a person. Also very hot - I'm weak for some well-written dirty talk and this is perfect.

When the well runs dry by demon_faith (G, 2k)

Part one of the Time Heals All Wounds series, which can either be read as a series or as stand-alone fics. Established relationship, Edgin is badly injured, and Xenk is unable to heal him. A classic hurt/comfort with a good bit of Edgin whump, and Xenk struggling with the reality of that.

On the edge of a blade by demon_faith (T, 3k)

Part two of the series, again established relationship. This time, Xenk gets badly hurt, and it's up to Edgin to take care of him. Heavy on both the hurt and the comfort.

lay on hands by @hauntedfalcon (E, 2k)

A getting-together/first-time fic, with a healthy dose of body worship. Xenk gets off on Edgin's metaphors. Beautifully written, and also my initial thoughts were - this is an author who sure is clued up on the names of medieval clothing/armor.

half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter (T, 2.5k)

Edgin struggles to process the events of the past six months, when Xenk turns up at his doorstep. Or, Edgin and Xenk process grief together, then kiss about it. A great exploration of Edgin's emotions, not only regarding Zia and Holga, but of the other people he may have harmed along the way.

We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper (T, 6k)

Xenk apprehends Forge and learns of the events that transpired at Neverwinter. Grappling with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help, he encounters Edgin. Such a lovely post-movie fic, exploring just how Edgin and Xenk are processing their feelings in the wake of it.

Do you know you'll never fly alone? by MayGlenn (T, 1.2k)

Something a bit more light-hearted to end the recs list on: a fix-it of sorts, but for the poor undead guy in the post-credits scene. Xenk takes Edgin on a late night ride, to fix an issue he'd left behind, but maybe for something more also...

And that's that for now! Please do feel free to recommend your favourite D&D: Honor Among Thieves fics in return, or yell about which of these you loved the most. My comments and inbox are always open :))

And to the fic writers (and all fic writers out there), thank you so much for sharing these stories with us! You're all absolutely wonderful, talented people <3

[joliackermann]

Just a human

Hello :3 The Addair post I have been warning you all about is finally here. I have so much more to say, but I feel like this post would end up being much too long if I would add all that as well. Spoilers for the game! Have fun :3 And if you have anything to add, feel free to leave a comment! Also please tell me if there are any issues with the screenshots enqonkfmqf I hope everything works! The way the game decides to present Addair is quite interesting. Every step was thought through and with intention. Assuming the player walks around, looking at the different rooms, the first impression one is going to have about Addair is going to be quite a negative one. Like in any other videogame, most people just walk around, looking for things they can click on. The only thing that fits this criteria in Addairs room is this poster:

This instantly lets the player know that this person is not someone who is liked by the main protagonist, and thus probably not a person that should be liked by the player either. The game's intentions are clear. But what I found interesting is that this poster is not the main focus when you view it.

This is what it looks like when you click on it. As you can see, the poster, the thing Caz comments on, is not in the middle, not the sole main focus. Even though Caz doesn’t comment on it, and quite frankly, most people choose to ignore it, there are pictures of children up on the wall as well. The game even lets you get closer to them by putting them basically right in front of you. Like it’s telling you “Hey look, this man isn’t that bad, you just have to look for yourself” but in a really obvious way. Most people just don’t seem to look that far. While Caz only comments on the poster, the pictures are right there. This man is a father and he cares enough to hang his children up on the wall. 

This is a screenshot of his desk, With a letter written by his child, a cute little drawing of an oil rig and a card from someone, telling him to come home soon. This man has a family. They miss him. Reading the letter written by the child, the player learns that the little horse figure belongs to the child and Addair has it there to repair it, just like he did with the child's skates earlier. One of Addairs voice lines is "Think of the money, just think of the money." Working on an oil rig pays well. Going by his voice lines, and the fact that Addair would rather spend the time fixing his childrens toys than buying new ones, it is highly likely that his family has some issues when it comes to money. 

He has even more drawings hanging in his room:

This man has a family at home that misses him and, going by this note from Trots, also a child that something has happened to? It doesn’t really specify what happened, but the note says “Sorry to hear about your wee lad.” Which, btw, beautifully highlights the humanity of these characters. Trots and Addair have quite different ideologies and opinions, but that doesn’t stop Trots from adding this line to his note. He doesn’t have to. Addair would probably not care if it wasn’t there. But this is a beautiful example of how the game makes these characters feel like actual human beings. 

As the player continues his way through the game, most people will probably end up in the crew lounge by this point. There are two minor things I want to talk about here really quickly. The first thing is the darts tournament.

Addair didn’t even sign up, implying that he doesn’t really want to have anything to do with the others, or they with him. 

The next thing are the jukebox suggestions.

Addairs suggestion does not receive a single vote, implying that he is very much alone in his taste when it comes to music. 

Moving on to the canteen where the player talks for the first and the only time with Addair. The conversation is very much negative, with Addair and Caz provoking and insulting each other, Addair even threatening Caz with his butterknife at one point. Realistically speaking, the knife would probably not have done any real harm, but the symbolism speaks for itself. But look at the way Addair is sitting:

He is sitting on his own in the corner of this big room, facing the others. Why is he sitting alone?

They even wrote “eejit” next to his name. 

Why is he facing the room? Maybe because he does not trust the others. Or maybe because, even though they don’t like him and he does not like them, he still wants to feel like he is a part of this group. Imagine being away from your family in the middle of the North fucking Sea, at a workplace where nobody likes you and disrespects you. At some point, you are starting to feel lonely. Especially when you constantly have to see how great everybody else gets along. 

And it’s not just that he is facing the room. He is sitting in the corner, where he can really just see about everything without really having to look around much.

Basically the game intentionally presents Addair in a negative way, encouraging through intentional game design decisions to manipulate the viewer into thinking that this must be a bad person before even ever meeting him. BUT the beauty of this game is that it doesn’t keep you from looking at things. Yes, it encourages you to look at some things more than others, but it doesn’t really keep you from looking at everything else.As already said earlier, that poster in Addairs room is the thing the game wants you to look at. But it never keeps you from looking at the photos of his family, the letter or the drawings his kids made. Even when the game doesn't shove all that information into your face, it’s still all there for the player to look at. 

The player doesn’t have to, but if they want to, all the resources are there to dive deeper into Addairs character. How troubled he is, what things in life are important to him and where he struggles. He is just like everybody else on this rig. Even though this is just a videogame and Addair is not the main protagonist, he feels authentic and complex. He is flawed and vulnerable. He has a family, interests, a hobby, certain skills. Sure, he may be a bit insecure or socially awkward or have a different political view as his colleagues, but at his core, Addair is very much just a human.  

[slashers-sister]

(This is something that happened, so I'm making a story, just imagine phones exist back then for the sake of this story)

Imagine you are on your phone on Pinterest, you found it fun, why?

Organizing, making cute and or deranged unsettling (Possibly ones about cannibalism people think are "AeStHeTiC!1! 😍🤪", you always did question which ones where and weren't actual cannibals..) moodboards.

Look, ya are quite lonely, and your brothers aren't always fun.

Actually you're in the barn hiding from your chores at the moment. You really didn't want to clean up all those knives :(

You like to keep random things, your room is FULL of stuff you've found around the farm. You got a lot of your personality from the twins, and Bubba. You spent most of your time with them.

..or stuff you've taken but that's besides the point!

You had bottles from 1947, your oldest glass bottle is from 1937! You also have old pins, which you and your brother Chop-Top do have a rivalry over who has the coolest.. Nubbins is the mediator, saying usually something along the lines of "Ya both tied, they are both equally cool." In reality he just can't choose who he likes more sometimes

You were on your phone, you heard Drayton calling. Oh no. You put it on a hay bale and immediately jump down from the hayloft. It's.. big but you fuck around and find out too often and have quite a high pain and heat tolerance.

"(Insert your full legal name), Get yer ass out here!"

To say your stomach filled with fear was definitely.. an understatement.

What did you do to piss off Drayton now? No idea but you went to go see what he needed. Hoping you weren't in for a beating on the head or back, why? He didn't whip you, he smacked your back so hard with a broom you heard a CRUNCH. Yes, you were fine. Well mostly, definitely traumatized a wee bit.

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, guess who also had chores in the barn! The twins!

Guess who didn't lock, sign out, and brick their phone? You!!

Immediately they are nosey. What's their precious little-

..They didn't find porn, or anything like that.

Nah they just found the Spotify account, the notepad, which you definitely had a few issues. Specifically anger issues, you had some notepads you had to take 5 minutes to scroll through bottom too.

Your Pinterest was full of weird stuff. Odd animal pictures that look weirdly funny and distorted? Funny lil cannibalism boards, memes, a mountain of memes because you are either chronically yeehaw or chronically online, take that as you will.

They found a few moodboards about them, about our(? Your? Their? Ya get the point) Brother Drayton. Honestly it matched his personality.

Bubba's was cute and full of taxidermied roadkill, you had made both of theirs earlier, and rearranged it perfectly.

Then they found theirs.

When Nubbins saw it, you even had a picture of his knife and camera almost exactly, how cool!

You had Chop-Top's favorite band, maybe you do listen!

Then Chop-Top started hysterically laughing.

"W-w-what? What's s-so funny?"

Chop-Top gladly pointed it out.

Nubbins couldn't tell if he should laugh, cry, be offended, or plot your murder.

Meanwhile Chop-Top is dying (almost literally) of laughter. "That is the funniest shit I've ever seen her do, that takes the meat!" (You guys often don't say "take the cake", but "take the meat" as a joke.)

Fun fact, nobody actually went to school.. you guys were all homeschooled by big bro dray.

Chop-Top calmed his twin down after a while, still looking through the board, you had found many things you thought they would, it did like. You got almost everything right.

They are definitely plotting how they both can get you back tho.

——————————————————————————

No, Drayton wasn't too pissed off. You just forgot to tell him where you were, and scared the ever-loving shit out of this poor man.

Once you got back to the barn, you climbed to the hayloft.. and noticed your phone was moved. You immediately went through it, but surprisingly nothing was out of the ordinary.. except your notepad had a new note.

"you'll end up worse<3"

Cheeky little bi-

You silently live in fear waiting for what prank they'll do next :(

[saintsenara]

For the Love Your Fandom Asks 3 and 4 please!

thank you very much for the ask, anon. lovely choices from the love your fandom ask game...

3. who is a character that fandom has helped you appreciate?

sigh. i can hear @whinlatter cackling from here.

ginny weasley.

i've never found ginny a hugely interesting character in her canon form - nor hinny a hugely interesting canon ship - not because i think there's anything particularly wrong with either but because ginny feels so underdone within the narrative and i don't find the fact that all of her major character development happens offscreen particularly compelling.

and i've also always had a wee bit of beef with ginny's treatment in fan spaces - i don't like the way she's treated by lots of fics which want to break her and harry up [which just make her a sort of raving, gold-digging harpy], of course, but i also don't like the fact that so much writing about her turns her into either a #girlboss who hates her mam or into a bang-maid who exists only as a tool for harry's self-actualisation. but, y'know, in a twee way.

but there's - as there is with everyone in the books - some really interesting stuff which i have always been aware lurks in ginny's character arc - especially her slightly vindictive streak and, given my interests, what she actually thinks of tom riddle - but which i'd never taken the time to particularly care about.

enter whinlatter, who is a paid-up defender of ginny, but - crucially - a paid-up defender of ginny as a bit of a flop. her takes on her as a character - especially her inability to open up and her tendency to deflect questions about what she's feeling - and on her various relationships - especially the fact that she's one of the few hinny fans i've seen really dig into the fact that harry's "protection" of ginny isn't romantic but intensely paternalistic [and also her defence of the legend that is molly weasley] - are things i find really valuable to think and to talk about and to integrate into my own writing and worldbuilding.

she's also unfailingly generous intellectually - there's lots she and i continue to disagree on when it comes to her girl, but I've never found her anything other than delighted to bicker about these things - and i will never stop doing an evil little chuckle when i see myself quoted in the author's notes for beasts.

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship

at their cores, every single ship - no matter how implausible; no matter how beholden to fanon; no matter how out-of-character - comes down to the same thing: that love [platonic or romantic] and desire [platonic or sexual] and human connection is strange and unpredictable, that it may look very different to very different people, and that it is universal.

i dislike numerous ships because i think they're rarely done in ways i find interesting - things like jegulus, wolfstar, dramione, and harmony chief among them - but i respect that they have this fundamental basis in the baffling power of love.

and that they also recognise that fandom is meant to be fun - and that making two hotties kiss in a way they wouldn't do in canon is a time-honoured way of having that fun. shipping really shouldn't be deep, and - despite the reputation the harry potter fandom has for endless beefing over shipping preferences - i am delighted by the sheer number of my fandom friends who think the same way.

[other answers from this ask game]

[bullet-prooflove]

The Backseat: Jack Hodgson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

When Jack first meets you it’s alongside a dead body on the beach. You’re eight months pregnant and he simply can’t take his eyes off you. You have this glow about you, a rosiness in your cheeks and brightness in your eyes that he can’t help but fall in love with. He has to help you up off the sand because once you’ve crouched down you can’t get yourself back up.

“First one?” He says to be conversational.

“My sister’s.” You explain, your palm coming to rest on the space where your nephew resides. “I’m a surrogate for her.”

It’s an open secret with the people you work with. There’s a running joke that you did it just for the maternity leave. The time off and none of the hassle but the truth is you’ll kind of miss not having him with you. You already know how tough it will be to hand him over despite the fact Diane and Ethan will make wonderful parents.

“That’s commendable.” Jack says as he helps you to your feet. “Not long to go now until you meet the wee fella.”

You end up in his immediate proximity, stomach bumping lightly against his as his firm hands come to rest on your shoulders, steadying you. You have the most beautiful eyes, he thinks as he looks down at you. For a moment he’s completely captivated and then that he realises his shoes are wet.

“Did your water just break?” He asks you as you look down at your damp trousers.

“Well you didn’t get me excited enough to wet myself.” You say with a sigh before unzipping your fleece and tying it around your waist to hide the staining.

“What are you doing?” He asks you as you remove your official notebook from your pocket and write something down. “We should be getting you to the hospital.”

“I’m not in active labour yet.” You reassure him, before taking out your phone and typing out a text to your DCI. “It’ll be at least an hour before they send someone along to relieve me, they’re short staffed as it is and we’re starting to lose the daylight.”

“So we’re just going to work until the baby makes an appearance?” He questions you as you gesture towards the corpses behind you.

“I told you I’m not in active labour, we’ve got some time.” You say mildly and Jack thinks you must be the most dedicated woman he’s ever met because anyone else would be losing their mind right now, especially with their first baby.

It takes an hour for Nikki and Velvy to get onto the scene and by that time your labour is well on the way, you’re having contractions every few minutes.

“I’m taking her to the hospital.” Jack tells them, handing over the forensics to Velvy. “The baby’s coming quicker than we thought.”

He doesn’t know when it became a ‘we’ but over the past hour he’s become highly invested in you and this baby. He thinks it was the moment you gripped his hand so hard during a contraction you almost broke his fingers. He knows that you’re alone right now, your sister is away in Belgium with her husband, a mini break before the baby arrived because Joshua, he’s due next month.

You don’t make it to the hospital. Jack ends up delivering baby Joshua on the hard shoulder of the motorway in the backseat of his car. Oddly it’s not the first baby he’s delivered but he hopes it’s the last.

“I thought we’d at least have to wait until the third date until we got to this point.” You tell him as he kneels between your legs and pulls on the spare set of latex gloves from his kit.

“This is one way of getting all that awkwardness out the way.” He says with a knowing smile.  “There’ll be time to get to all that fun stuff later.”

“Would this be the weirdest first date you’ve ever been on?” You ask him through gritted teeth as another contraction takes you.

“This is more like a work outing.” He remarks as he peers under the blanket he’s draped over you to preserve as much of your modesty as he can. “I’m going to need you to push with the next contraction, I can see the baby’s head.”

It’s all over and done with by the time the paramedics arrive. He follows the ambulance to the hospital, wondering how much it’s going to cost to get the back seat upholstered.

When he stops by your room it’s with a bag from the gift shop, a bunch of brightly coloured flowers and a helium balloon ‘that says it’s a boy’.

“Jack…” You say softly because you have the baby, resting against your chest. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Yea well, maybe I wanted to see this little guy again.” He tells you, chucking the babies chin. “See if I can persuade you to give him my namesake.”

“Sorry but my sister is firmly fixed on Joshua.” You murmur as the baby shifts against you. There’s  a moment of silence before he says.

“It’s going to be hard for you isn’t it? Handing him over.”

The edges of your mouth tip up into a sad smile as you look down at the baby in your arms.

“I wouldn’t be much of a mother.” You tell him, your thumb smoothing over the baby’s cheek. “I’ve been on the job too long, seen too much, done too much. The best I can do is be there for this little one if he needs me.”

“It’s the same way with my niece.” Jack tells you. “This world…”

The two of you have seen the worst of it, he doesn’t need to say anything else.

“After this…” Jack says gesturing to the hospital bed. “When you’re feeling better, I’d like to take you out, get to know you with your clothes on.”

You laugh then and it truly is just the most wonderful sound.

“I’d like that.” You tell him, your eyes flickering up to meet his as the baby starts to grumble. “I’d like that a lot.”

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[adhduck]

“—and we still need to get the towels, in case someone forgets. The beach ones, please, not the nice ones—”

“Yes, love, I know not to use the nice ones,” Ed says, patient with a thread of laughter in his voice. Stede ignores him and checks his hair in the bedroom mirror again, even though it may be for naught as soon as they get started.

“They know it’s at 4:30, right? Not 4?”

“I would hope so, considering 4:30 is the only time we ever gave them,” Ed says.

“But they know not to come early?”

“Stede,” he says, which is not an answer, so Stede turns to glare at him only to be met with an infuriatingly soft expression, not a hint of urgency in his boyfriend’s eyes at all. “Sweetheart. It’s gonna be fine, okay?”

“I know that,” says Stede, who does not know that and is, in fact, more sure of the opposite. “Now please, can we finish getting ready, they’re gonna be here in less than an hour and you know some of them are going to be more on time just for the drama of it—”

“Stede.” Ed grabs his shoulders, drags him gently to their bed. Stede sits with a huff, though his legs instantly thank him for the reprieve—he’d set his forearm crutches down at some point, wanting to get the cleaning done faster. Ed plops next to him. “Your friends love you. They are going to support you.”

“Us,” Stede says, though he’d been thinking mostly of himself the last few hectic hours.

“Us,” Ed agrees. “And when we tell them what we are, they are gonna love us just as much. Lucius will make some sort of hentai joke, Wee John will say he knew mermaids were real, and then we’re going to have a very fun pool party with all our friends. Okay?”

“But what if—”

“Nuh uh, no what ifs. It’s going to go great, okay? Hell, Buttons is probably one of us. Like a—penguin or something.”

Stede frowns. “Are penguin people a thing?”

Ed shrugs. “Fuck if I know. But I do know he won’t blink fucking twice at a few fins and tentacles.”

Logically, Stede knows he’s right. But he’s never told more than one person at a time before—hell, he’s never told more than one person period. And never somebody who isn’t sort of like him.

“I just—” He takes a long, heavy breath and leans into Ed’s side, head tucked on his shoulder. “They’re practically my family, Ed. I don’t wanna lose them. Or—or have them look at me like I’m an alien.”

“Hey, aliens are fucking cool.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t want them to look at me differently. Other than—you know. The obvious stuff.”

“I know,” Ed murmurs. “And I can’t promise they won’t be a little…surprised, at first. But it’s not because of us, yeah? It’s just a lot to take in. And they’re all so fucking weird, I’m sure they’ll be used to us in ten minutes flat.”

“I hope so.” Stede touches his foot to Ed’s, marveling for the millionth time that their bodies can be so different and yet create something so similar to walk on land. “I hope so.”

Read on ao3! (ch1 up now, ch2 up by around april 28)

[delyth88]

X-Men rewatch part 2

Next in my X-Men rewatch were X-Men Origins: Wolverine and... uh... Wolverine. I blame the fact they have practically the same title for the fact it turns out I'd never seen the second one before. 🙄

Anywho, before these two I watched the third in the original trilogy - The Last Stand. WhichI definitely did see, in the theatre when it came out I think, and I remembered odd patches of it (like the post credits scene where Magneto makes a chess piece move slightly, and the scene breaking Mystique out of the truck) but somehow completely failed to remember the huge moment in the middle with Xavier and the Phoenix! 🤦‍♀️

So I totally didn't expect that, and then absolutely thought it would be undone by the end of the film, so was left pretty darn heartbroken at the end. :( Spent a couple of days feeling sad for myself and a bit cheated, and then watched Wolverine 1 last night.

This was much as I remembered, but having just watched the others it all made a lot more sense. Though I'm gonna have to go back and work out the memory loss and recovery logic for Wolverine. Or not. I remember enjoying it the first time and I enjoyed it on rewatch too.

Wolverine 2 was a complete surprise. I'm glad they made something following on from The Last Stand - I was going to be pissed if that was the actual end of the timeline! I still don't think there was enough done to sell his deep attachment to Jean, but I think the letting her go arc worked well. Though I couldn't help but feel they were stretching for something else for Wolverine to do, so they chucked him in exotic Japan and threw him at a love interest for no particular reason. I kinda liked the taking away his powers thing, but who tf was creepy blond lady who wore ever tighter and more plastic villain outfits in every scene?! Lol. Ugh.

So kinda fun, but a bit meh.

But OMG was it worth it to get to the post credits scene! Metal things floating! Yass!!!! There's Magneto! Then silence as everyone freezes still.... ! Xavier!!!! Wooo!

I can finally put to rest the annoyance of over a decade that they never followed through on the promise of the post credits scenes with Magneto and the chess piece and the one after that with Xavier's voice. 😆

Almost tempted not to watch anymore because I hear reception of Logan was kinda meh. Curiosity will get the better of me in the end, but I'm gonna enjoy this moment for a wee while. Even if it never goes further than a post credits AU.

(I know people are all like, let the character die, bringing them back would cheapen their sacrifice. But I say screw that! Bringing back beloved characters you genuinely thought were dead - there's nothing better!)

(Also, having been reminded that I love the X-Men I'm in danger of wanting to try and write something for them jumping off from this point. But I have too many other things I have to do!!! *wails*)

(Is there an X-men fandom on here? Shout out if you are.)

(Oh, also I need to start a tally for the number of times Wolverine howls at the sky over a dead body. 🙄)

[zmediaoutlet]

Oh Z go OFF why don't you ship Sam/John?

ahaha, anon starting off the friday night wine party by choosing violence <3

how don't I ship Sam/John? Let me count the ways --

first of all have you seen the sam/john content out there? I'm negatively interested in shitbird lolita sam with his crystal heart-shaped buttplug and the overemphasis on his pink lips and his mewling or whatever. like the puss becomes the sahara. I need a Great Wall of No between whatever's going on with that particular kink and the actual character. As always, a division: 'this is so hawttt omg' is good and fine, but please can we have a little moat between that and character-based canon-feeling stuff.

so all that stuff aside, on a plot level, John's Quest is based around protecting Sam, and like... way to not do it, bud. That is if you believe that John is ultimately flawed but kinda trying, which I do because 'pure monster' and 'hero daddy' takes are equally boring. Sam is left behind, is overprotected, is taught some hunting stuff but comparatively coddled -- in the wee!era, I see absolutely no way that John would go there on any kind of purpose, especially given the fact that Dean's also always there and it would be very embarrassing for your devoted older sonwife to stab you in the brain. (Caveat: I guess there are those times when John would "send Dean away" for disobeying, so that opens a window. But honestly, Sam was probably just abandoned in a motel room alone while John got on with work. I don't think it was a secret fuck-cation.)

on a sadness level: John wants something better for Sam. Dean's a lost cause, although John does super vaguely gesture at like 'eh he could have a house maybe' -- despite the college fight, Sam's untouchable in a way because John has this mad idea that maybe they'll actually win somehow, and Sam can have a future. That doesn't jive with bouncing him on the Dad D. And, again, if John's not purely insane, then--?

on just a vibes level: once Sam gets older, he and John are just way too much alike, and that's why they piss each other off so much. They're the thing of two magnets of the same polarity bouncing apart. Now there are ships where that can be fun, in the kind of slap-slap-kiss model, but in the specific (characterful) case of these two... no. I can see Sam losing his shit and throwing a punch; I aaaaabsolutely don't see him following it up with like, passion. Though I am literally loling here at my computer thinking about it. I'm doing my absolute best here not to compare to other ship options, but like -- this is not the son who'd fold and be like, aw daddy let me take care of you, you know what I'm saying?

on a taste level: like... can you see Sam actually wanting to? Any emotional/physical weirdness he has I feel like would get automatically turned to a different member of the three-part family unit. Non-con is blah, sex pollen is too easy (although with that said, I imagine a no-romance sex pollen f-o-d would be a good way to crack open those dynamics and see how they operated). Part of the massive issue here is that Sam has an oedipus complex, not an elektra complex -- he wants to fight his dad, not fuck him. He has daddy issues but they're of the tough masc black sheep son who goes off and has to get heroes' journeyed back into the fold; it's not 'oh daddy please say you're proud of me please let me be a good son,' unlike Some People We Could Name. It just doesn't have any entré into the kind of tangled up fuckery that makes vertical incest interesting for me. So...

That's probably enough, lol. That said, again: if you love to jill to babby Sammy slurping on daddy John's big meaty dadcock, go on with your bad self. Especially if Sam's inexplicably femme. But like. I'm good.