#like I’ve had ppl I barely know or who I’ve met a couple times send me the most heartbreaking bday messages

[suoulfillem]

cannot stop crying because i simply feel like a friendless unloved burden. happy july :p

[kaitymccoy123]

Needing Eachother

I am on mobile right now but have had this queued up forever and just reread it and tgought it’d be nice to post for near Christmas time. Pure fluff. Can’t add a tag list sorry ppl. Also can’t add a cut thingy either. Sorry Enjoyenjoyenjoy Pairing: Scotty x reader

Word Count: some

-Enjoy!-

As soon as Scotty’s face filled the screen in front of you, you knew this wasn’t going to be a happy call.  

“Hey.” You said, trying your hardest to smile even though you felt like you were dying inside. 

“Hey there.” A flicker of a smile touched his lips, but there was not the usual jovial tone to his voice. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, pressing your palms into the bedspread. 

“I was abou’ t'ask you the same thin’.” He exhaled. 

“What do you mean?”

“Love, why’re you crying?” His voice was soft and tender. 

“I’m not…” You touched your fingertips to your cheeks and were surprised to find tears there. 

Scotty clicked his tongue softly and you could hear him shuffle in his seat, “Wha’s the matter?  I hate seein’ you so sad.“ 

“I don’t know…” You drew your forearm under your dripping nose and pulled your knees to your chest, “I don’t know.”

Resting your chin on your folded knees you looked up at him through watery eyes.  His eyes were sad too, you realized and it only made you let out a little sob. 

“I just really miss you, I guess.” You sniffled, tearing your eyes away from his and resting the side of your head on your knees. 

“I miss you too, love." 

"I jus-I just could-could really use one-one of your hugs right now.” You gasped, and the mere thought of his arms wrapped around you sent you into a fit of sobs again. 

“Shh… Y/N, I know, and if I could I would be there in a second.”

“I know.” You looked at him again, “Where’s the teleporter machine you’ve been-been talking about?  I thought you were an engineer.” You joked, but it didn’t make him smile. 

“I think I’ve done well enough developing the transporter, thank you very much. Unfortunately I think it’s more of a time machine tha’ we need.”

You huffed a watery laugh and rubbed your face into your knees before leaning back and wiping at them with the back of your hand.  You sighed and reached out to touch your PADD screen. 

“How much longer until we are together again?” Your voice was barely a whisper. 

You desperately wished that it was your fingertips touching his cheek rather than the hard screen of the PADD. 

“3 months.” He sighed, and you saw tears well up in his eyes, “I wish I could come home now.  I jus’ want t'a hold ya again.  I hate-I hate sleeping alone.”

Now it was your turn to comfort him, “I do too, Monty.  But I’m sure you don’t miss my cold feet against your back all night.” You smiled. 

He huffed a laugh and wiped at his eyes, “I would take your ice-cubes that you call feet over sleepin’ alone on this bloody lonely planet any day.”

“Well I promise as soon as you get back that you can have as much of my cold feet as you want because it’s going to be days before we are going to leave this bed.” You bounced up and down slightly on the bed and were relieved to see a real smile pull at his mouth. 

“Sounds like a deal.”

You fell into a comfortable silence and you eventually felt the tight coil of missing him lessen a little, and your tears dried on your cheeks. 

“I love you, Monty.”

That made him smile and tilted his head as his whiskey-brown eyes met yours sweetly, “I love you too, Y/N.”

“And soon we will be together.” You said.  This was always your little routine before you hung up.

“Before ya know it.” Scotty responded as per your little imaginary script. 

You drew your finger one more time down his face on the screen before you brought the PADD closer to your face, pressing your forehead against it. 

Pulling back, you found tears perched on your eyelids again, “I need you, Montgomery Scott.  I need you I need you I need you." 

You repeated the words until you were nearly sobbing them, and you watched his face as it broke down with each repetition of the words. 

When you paused to take a shaky breath he interrupted, "Love, you wouldn’t even believe how much I need you too.”

You wiped at your eyes again and smiled, “I should go to bed.”

“Wish I was there." 

"I wish you were too.” You blew him a kiss before ending the call.  

You don’t know how long you sat there, hugging the PADD to your chest and sobbing, but eventually you fell asleep, cradling the device as if it were Scotty’s arm drawn around your chest.

Finally, it was time.  

As you stood at the landing dock, you bounced up and down on your toes, wearing a stupid smile on your face that had been there since yesterday.

He’s coming home today. He’s coming home today.  He’s coming home today.

“Are you excited or something?  I can’t tell.” You turned to Jim who stood beside you and punched him in the arm.

“It’s been 18 months since I’ve seen him, you asshat, I get to be excited.”

Jim chuckled, “But didn’t you see him a few months ago?”

“That was 6 months ago and only for 4 hours on one of his re-supply missions.” You snapped.

“Okay, okay, you get to be excited.” Jim smiled down at you and you turned your attention quickly back to the bustling shuttle bay.

Jim said they’d landed already, but you didn’t know which ship it was or if they had even gotten off yet.  The suspense was killing you.

You waited in silence next to Jim, your eyes constantly scanning each ship, each person that had redish-brown hair, each red shirt, hoping it was him.

“You’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm.” Jim teased.

“Shut up.”

There.  Your eyes caught on someone. Nope.

Ooo, over there.

Nope.

You were beginning to get frustrated when you saw another head of reddish-brown hair.  Coupled by a red shirt.  And that scarf.  You had given him that scarf.

Your heart soared.

Monty.

Your legs nearly gave out before you commanded them to surge forward, and they somehow carried you into the busy shuttle bay. Squeezing past person after person, you felt the cool air hit your cheeks and realized you were crying. Your legs were flying under you, faster than you had ever run before, and your heart was hammering in your chest.

As you neared him, you realized that he hadn’t seen you yet, and he seemed to be scanning the crowds as well.  Looking for you.

“MONTY!” You yelled, and his head snapped in your direction.

You had no idea how you remained standing when his eyes met yours.  There he was. Flesh and blood and oh-so-familiar. Something between a screech and a shout of laughter left your lips and you started running again.  

Scotty’s smile was unbelievably wide as he dropped his bag and spread his arms.  You nearly leaped into them as you finally closed the last few feet.  

“Monty!” You called again as he wrapped his arms around you tight, tighter than ever, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Scotty chanted, and that’s when you realized that he was crying too.  

You felt him press hard kisses to the side of your neck, working his way up to your jaw and eventually across your cheek, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you turned your head and captured his lips in yours.

It was a desperate kiss, dry and harsh, a kiss that means ‘I haven’t seen you in forever’, ‘I miss you so much’, ‘I just want to feel your lips on mine’.  But eventually it melted into softer kisses, gentle ‘I love you’ kisses and you found yourself giggling despite the tears still running down your cheeks.

Eventually, you pulled your head away, resting your foreheads together, the rest of your body pressed tightly to his.  

“Monty.” You breathed, more tears (happy ones, you realized now) tracked down your cheeks.

“Y/N.” He laughed, and the smile on his face and the admiration in his eyes melted your heart.

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” You teased, brushing his hair over his ears.

“If it’s even half as much as I’ve missed you, then it’s a hell u’va lot.” He kissed the smile off your face.

Breaking off the kiss, you buried your face in his neck and inhaled the familiar scent o him, and you felt his hands squeeze your waist softly.

“Nice to have you back, Mr. Scott.” Jim’s voice broke through your little bubble of Scotty and you drew back to Scotty’s side, slinging your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder.

“Nice to be back, Cap’n.” Scotty pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and the arm that he had around you drew soft lines up and down your back.

“I was about to send this one to the medbay ‘cause I thought she was gonna faint while we waited for you.” Jim teased and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“And I can send you to the medbay for a black eye if you want one, Jimbo.” You joked, and Scotty laughed heartily next to you and pulled you closer.

“Alright, alright, my duty here is done, you two lovebirds go do whatever you lovebirds want to do, I’ll see you back on the ship.” Jim saluted before he retreated back into the busy crowds.

Scotty swung you around so you were in front of him again, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Now, lass, I would love a long hot shower – with or without you honestly I just need one at this point – a good hot meal, and to spend the rest of the day in bed with you in my arms.”

Your heart surged with happiness and you dove up to kiss him quickly, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Scotty smiled and kissed your forehead quickly before scooping up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.   You arms still slung around the other’s waists, you and Scotty started towards the exit ready to spend the next little while in each other’s arms.

-Thanks for reading!  I hope you liked it!-

[i-want-my-iwtv]

My mom got me into The Vampire Chronicles a couple months back, and now I’m looking for the fandom. Why is the fandom so small? Why is there so little fanfiction? I often have to write fanfiction that I want to read. (Which is fine by me, it’s just I’m not that good at writing.)

Hey, welcome to our little corner of tumblrland! Share your fanfic with us, step out into the light, Anon! I’m often critical of my own writing, and I often have a beta reader, a dear friend who gives me constructive criticism and even rewrites lines if I ask her to do so, like an editor, a beta can offer a huge improvement on one’s writing. Maybe you’d like to find a beta reader? 

-PREAMBLE SORRY BUT I MUST- and no TL;DR for it-

Sometimes when ppl ask those questions, Why is the fandom so small and Where is the fanfic b/c I can’t find it, it’s argument bait, I’m sorry to say. 

But I’m taking it at face value that you are somewhat or totally unaware of our history, that your mom might not know, and that you are not putting out bait for argument. I’ll try to give you a synopsis in good faith, and hope that other ppl see this post as such. I’m not interested in taking sides, reopening those old wounds for the millionth time. I think of us as the bastard children of fandom, beaten in to a corner by a formerly abusive parent, and we are survivors of that. As such, I would hope that we could offer each other even more compassion than other fans in other fandoms. It doesn’t always work that way. Things can be misread and emotions misinterpreted; this is a text-based communication so we are cheated of facial and verbal cues, it is far too easy to misread intention.

What draws ppl to VC? From what I’ve learned over the years, a lot of us felt marginalized in one way or another and we related to something in VC, we drew strength from it as we were struggling with something in real life. It helped at a time that we needed it. It might still help us. Some ppl just like the purple prose! For real! 

Whatever the case, and however you choose to engage with canon or fandom, no one’s relationship to the books or characters supersedes anyone else’s. Not mine, not yours, Anon. We all have our own personal relationship with it. I hesitate to use the word “valid,” bc no one needs “validation” to love a book series or character(s). No one can be “invalidated” for loving a book series or character(s). 

I was in fandom before the internet, and even tho, as I’ll mention below, it was with only one other flesh-and-blood friend, we had our own 2-person fandom! We liked what we liked. We didn’t agree on everything, we still don’t, but it was always civil, and any argument was always based on curiosity and trying to gain a better understanding from each other. It was never about this public display we have now on tumblr and other social networking sites of idk, “My 10K notes means my opinion supercedes yours!”? I don’t subscribe… Unless those 10K notes are turning into dollars, then we’ll revisit it, lol. 

What even is the point of my blog? It’s for entertainment, my own experience, a collection of other ppl’s experience, and fanworks. When ppl say that I exert all this influence on an army of ppl, I am, in actuality, preaching to a big pile of cats, that’s how it feels. I serve catnip to cats. That’s the intention, anyway.They don’t even Like some of it, I’ll get like 5 notes on this post, lol. I have no need to be Right. I have no need to be anything other than a brief reprieve from how insane Real Life is and can be.

Fandom isn’t a contest. No one is keeping score. No one even knows your follower count unless you tell ppl (and I wouldn’t, bc even if you only have 10 more followers than smne else, it generally leads to envy). 

TL;DR for the below info: The fandom was small, but it’s growing now, and there is fanfic, try here on tumblr, and try Archiveofourown.org (AO3). Fandom, however, like Real Life, takes your own work to make what you can of it. 

FRICKIN’ WALL OF TEXT™ NO CUTS WE LONGPOST LIKE MEN

A) The fandom is was small bc:

^Gawds this is gonna be me on the outside eventually, it’s me on the inside sometimes lol.

It’s an old fandom, over 40 years old! IWTV, the first book in the series, was published in 1976.

Back then, fandom was just the ppl you could gather together, physical mailing lists, idk. It progressed to zines, probably, like other fandoms, but you had to know who was making them. I wasn’t born yet so I don’t know!

As the internet was born, ppl began to find each other on webrings, but even then, it was hard, bc Anne Rice did not approve of fanfic. So you had to know where to look or be lucky enough to stumble upon it.

By the early 90′s when I came into VC, there were some fic sites like Rotoli dela Lune (IIRC?) but AR waged a #war on fanfic, sending threatening cease & desist letters to writers, and that made everything EVEN HARDER to find. 

There were official VC graphic novels for a few of the first books and they are hilarious and cringey. Here’s Louis feeding on Daniel jeez… Looks like he wants a lick of the trachea first?

Of course, the IWTV movie in 1994 (in development hell for nearly 20 years) did bring in a wave of new fandom ppl, but they really only found whoever they physically met bc of the movie, and the VC books that were out at the time. Meeting in the audience at the movie? Or in bookstores in the Fantasy/Horror section under R, maybe? Probably?

[X] And TBH the movie got backlash bc it was reviewed as being too gay to some, and as not gay enough, but overall, it did well financially and is still considered smtg of a cult classic bc they drag it out and show it on TV leading up to Halloween or whenever Tom and Brad have new movies out ;D (one near-to-Halloween weekend I watched it 4 times, and that was too many, even for me).

Which was my situation, I had my one VC friend, we met in middle school bc I saw her reading QOTD on the bus, I pestered her that morning, and she had to tolerate almost 20 years of my fannish behavior ever since, all directed at her like a fire hydrant, and then she forced me to start a Tumblr and here we are.

*ahem* 

We had another small influx of fans with movie!QOTD in 2002, but as the story was barely tethered to canon, and for a number of other reasons, idk if it was the blockbuster ppl had hoped it would be. STILL, there are fandom ppl who find it nostalgic, or love it and embrace it even admitting its canon non-compliance. So I try not to trample it too hard, but trampling it hard was once encouraged! anyway… suffice it to say, someone(s) has to watch it with me and mock it to help me through it, lol.

In 2012, we got a graphic novel of Claudia’s POV during IWTV called Claudia’s Story. You can find it on Amazon.

B) The fanfic IS out there.

CURRENTLY, the fandom is experiencing a revival, we liiiiive!

with the recently published books and AR no longer fights the fanfic writers! Woo!

AR has a FB page and an official VC FB page, where she communicates with her People of the Page and whoever else comments on her posts.

There’s also a thriving community of ppl here on tumblr, who make fanart, write fic, do podcasts, write meta, cosplay, etc. Dig around in my archive and you’ll find them. We just did a @vcsecretgifts exchange and there’s fanfic in there.

Another great place to find fanfic is archiveofourown.org (AO3). You can set up an account and post your fanfic there, and I bet you’ll find readers who want what you have to offer!

There’s also fanfiction.net, and wattpad, but I don’t know those sites very well.

^^^All this taken into account, the thing is, anon, fandom is not an open door. 

Fandom is not a ballroom with everyone listing their url name down and committing to staying or even having civility, we can’t make a VC RP directory bc inevitably ppl aren’t invited for whatever reason, and feel left out, or they move on to another fandom anyway. It’s not everyone extending their dance-cards for you to sign your blog url for a dance with EVERYONE. We have had arguments and in-fighting, call-out posts, cliques… there are heated posts about certain characters or ships still getting reblogged with their 10K+ notes and an implication that if you “like” those certain characters or ships, that you’re contributing to real world harm. 

Fiction’s affect on reality is a debate that’s started before the internet and will go on as long as we are capable of communicating. Societies have waves of being more or less pure, like a pendulum. That’s not the focus of my blog. 

All debates aside, fandom is what you make it, it’s not guaranteed easy friendship. I once thought it was, but I learned the hard way that it’s very much like real life. You have to do the work of finding and reaching out to those ppl who you find a spark of connection with, and actively nurture that spark. On a public site, you have to extend yourself and show some opinions and thoughts, gush about what you love, reblog from ppl who you relate to, and gradually build your own network of friends. Nothing is handed to you. No one will crowd into your inbox bc your url sounds cool (well, maybe a few urls get attention bc of that!)(there is an exception to every rule).

So whenever I say “Welcome to our little corner of tumblrland!” I mean it, I do welcome all, and I hope that I’m going to see you flourish as you make your way into the space. Are you a new fanartist, or writer, or someone who’s supportive even if they don’t have the skills to create fanwork of their own? A combination? Show us, and reach out, and if we’re compatible, we’ll reach back.

[jessiewre]

Day 23

Mon 27th Jan

Started off with Spanish omelettes again, once the manager sorry I mean chef, had gone to buy an avocado that is. Then we then went to the Women’s Center for Take 2 of the walking tour.

I’d mentioned the night before to Esther that our bags were slightly over packed and Esther had kindly agreed to take a couple of items we didn’t want to carry with us back to London - so I’d got a little (!) glasto canvas bag that we’d bought with us and filled it with bits and bobs that we haven’t been using. Would hopefully make our bags much easier to pack and a little lighter 😬

Was rather thrilled to have this opportunity to send stuff back, even packed a few metal water bottles we’ve been carrying around - they just haven’t been that useful as there’s nowhere to get drinking water from to refill them!

Yes, that means that we’ve been buying far too many plastic bottles which I do not feel good about.

I hoped she wouldn’t be shocked by how much I’d prepped.

So we got to the Women’s Center and Esther met us there and was totally fine with the bag I’d bought (phew!) or at least she did a sterling job pretending to be fine with it, and so we even bought a couple more items in the craft shop to squeeze in there too. I mean, couldn’t miss an opportunity like that could I. Mad to think it will be in London within 24 hours.

The women’s tour started and was just the 3 of us, with no rain - we were so glad we’d postponed it. They told us about two Slovenian women who’d found out about the original group of women who would meet us, and they did some fundraising in Slovenia. With their advice and financial support, it has blossomed into an amazing cooperative of 55 women that help the community, do workshops and education for women, do walking tours and have set up a library and all sorts.

We walked around the community and met different business owners, the milk shop, butchers, coal seller, vegetables shop - Esther even had a braid added to her head.

We ended the tour at someone’s house - Josephine - and there was a DELICIOUS selection of 7 vegetarian dishes awaiting us for our lunch. Oh my god we were so happy, we both had two MASSIVE platefuls and could barely walk afterwards. It was probably the best meal we’d had since we started the trip. There I’ve said it.

We said Bye to Esther, thanking her again for kindly taking our stuff for us, and headed to the bus station to research tickets back to Uganda for the next day.

At the bus station, we looked for Modern Coast buses company, as Philly Tours Atol Protected © had been a good lad and done some research into who did a morning bus all the way to Kampala, Uganda. However the unfriendly lady at the desk informed us that there was ‪a 5pm‬ or ‪7pm‬ option and that was it. Minus points for Phil’s Tours there I think.

We really didn't want to get a night bus so said no thanks. We were confident we would be able to work out a different option.

But another guy who worked there spoke to us and said that there were NO companies that went in the morning anymore. He even said ‘In the name of the Lord’ there were no other companies that did it. 

That's when we knew he was definitely lying. 

We explained that we would explore other options thank you bye now and he was like Do you think I'm lying, I'm not lying. 

And we said No, of course we didn’t, but we were going to explore other options. 

Naturally, he followed us out (!) - what is with that - and walked with us as we headed to speak to other companies. And then all of sudden he had a brain wave of inspiration, wow it was miraculous.  

'Oh so hang on, maybe try Jaguar company'. 

What's that mate? Suddenly remembered that you were definitely lying?

We went to the Jaguar office and there was a bus ‪at 8:30am‬ the next morning. 

IN YOUR FACE PRICK.

Then the man who'd walked over with us wanted a tip!

I’ve got a tip for you matey, don’t chat shite and you might get a tip.

We laughed at him and told him he should not lie to people - but eventually gave him 10p just to go away. I know I KNOW thats stupid but it was just one of those things done to keep the peace.

So the lesson learnt is, anyone who says I swear in God's name appears to be a liar. 

I'm no expert but I don't think God's gona be too happy about that. 

We got bodas back to the hostel but went for a little wander to the shops nearby and to explore the local area. There was a cute little jewellery shop and Phil managed to find some beer to keep him hydrated. What a hero. 

We took a shortcut through some local houses, Phil slipping in the process = highlight of the day - but we couldn't find Yego art studio as they'd apparently moved (Google is not always right). Then Inzora rooftop was hot and small so we didn’t stay there, then we went next door to a nice place with a good view but realised that we really didn't want to eat or drink anything. So we awkwardly got up to leave and I said as an excuse Phil had ‘forgotten his wallet’ but then he said at the same time he'd ‘forgotten his TISSUES’ (the afternoons beers had definitely started to work their magic), and so the waitress looked at us like we were weirdos and we swiftly left. We got bodas back to the hostel and I chilled on the balcony but Phil had the taste for it now, the dreaded flavour, so he decided he wanted to go bowling on his own with his speaker and some more beers. 

Oh gad we were in danger zone. 

After an hour or so, Phil had enough of the bowling but was waist deep in Santan Dave's album Phsyco and had convinced himself he too was a rapper from Streatham going through some tough times, so it was tricky trying to convince him that we still needed to go for dinner. 

I was excited to try this place for dinner that had been recommended by Esther and a few other ppl too - Heaven. 

Phil however, was excited to close his eyes and bond with his brother from another mother Dave. 

Well, after a slight verbal tug of war, we managed to get to Heaven (woop woop) and the moment we sat down Phil said ‘God I'm so hungry, I’m glad we came out for dinner’. FML.

We both had a tasty mint lemonade, I think even Phil realised another beer might be a bad idea. The mushroom cappuccino soup was served in a tall coffee glass but with a massive spoon, so Phil had a slightly awkward time accessing it. His hunger took over though and he got through it. My Thai Asian salad was delicious too.

So we had high hopes for the mains. 

Well, in hindsight I think we ordered the wrong mains. 

Phil's sesame eggplant dish was uninspiring and my ravoili was a fishy slop. 

Oh maaaaaan. 

Just to kick a man when he's down, Phil found a super hot chilli somewhere in his last mouthful and spent the next 10 minutes with his tongue out trying to fan it and make the pain stop. At one point he was rubbing his tongue with his napkin lol.

The brownie dessert was nice enough but it was a shame we hadn't enjoyed the mains when it was a bit of a posh meal. 

Phil’s earlier beers were still in effect and as we left, he looked at the waitress as I walked off to use the loo and said

‘She’s just going for a quick plop’

OMG Phil! I made sure I pee’ed fast so we could get the hell out of there while Phil laughed his head off.

We boda'd back and the food was kicking in sending Phil to snoozeville, so straight to bed - foolishly not packing beforehand.

[runwiththieves-blog]

I’M GONNA DO A QUICK LIL INTRODUCTION HERE SISTERS! bc i’m lame and new!!! well i’m not new to the fandom etc but this is a fresh blog and this is the first time i’ve ever posted my writings anywhere for the general public (who happens to be searching for harry styles smut) can read it and I’M GEEKIN TBQH!! anyway, hi hello – i have a name, but im gonna let u guys call me T, even tho my name starts w H. H would get too confusing should this work out the way i’m hoping it will! so i’m T. and i like writing and harry styles and so i thought i, along with everyone i scream about H to in the wee hours of the night, would probably find it beneficial if i had blog where i could do that and ppl who actually want to read about how i want him to spit in my mouth! i’ve been a silent lurker of the tags for awhile now (shoutout to @stylesunchained, @permanentcross, @jawllines, @canistay-haz for the inspo behind me finally making this godforsaken blog) (please be my friend) (i’m very intimidated by all of u). so yeah i hope this works out, and if not then it was fun to share this little bit of a something with all of u! and if it does then i’ll likely post a pt 2 to this!  if u like it like/reblog if ur into the kinda thing ig :) also my praise kink is jsut as alive as harrys and my ask box is always open to discuss either one <3

“Pet,” he starts, and you smile, because after a long moment of just standing there and listening to each other breathe, you hear the familiar nickname and know you’ve got him back. “You are the meanest, most stubborn, woman ’ve ever met. Got a bloke full on puttin’ himself out there in front ‘f thousands, 'nd you run away. Same bloke tells ya’ exactly what he means even after that, 'nd ya’ tell me I don’t mean it?” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear it. “Tell me how I can prove it to ya’,” he adds before you can get another word in, and he seems to already have a good idea, because his nose is brushing against yours already, but you quickly figure out that it’s going to take you asking for it before he does it, because Harry’s humble, but he has his pride, and you doubt he needs you fucking with it anymore tonight.

“’M going to start screaming if you don’t kiss me in the next three seconds,” you state, and he’s laughing as he presses his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and it’s gentle and soft and everything you ever imagined kissing Harry for the first time would be like.

And that’s how you die.

or

Harry’s your best friend and then you realize a lot of things, mostly that you’re an idiot

7k+, smut, overuse of the word ‘because’

It’s when you’re sitting on the couch next to him that you have your ’oh god’ moment where you realize that you’re actually really into him.

Harry hasn’t done anything to provoke this. He’s literally just sitting there, being his angel-like self because he can’t help it, it’s just who he is and you’ve accepted that. He’s beautiful and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. But you can feel it down to your toes when you look over to him and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest because he’s already looking at you, like he knows.

“’S wrong, pet? Not in the mood t'cuddle w'me today?” His voice suddenly breaks the comfortable silence you had fallen into, and you feel yourself flush down to your chest because this is Harry calling you out for being weird with him. You’re pretty sure there’s supposed to be at least a three month pining window before he starts to notice.

He’s Harry, though — not megastar Harry Styles, or the Harry his fans have dreamed up in their fantasy worlds where he takes them on luxury getaways whenever he has downtime (you guess they have no idea that he would rather watch romantic comedies and drink wine on the comfort of his own couch). To you, he’s the Harry who held your hair back while you threw up the first night you met at one of Nick’s parties. He’s the Harry who then proceeded to make his home, whenever he got to hangout with Nick and the rest of his friends, right beside you. He’s the Harry who insists that you sleep in his bed with him whenever you’ve had a bit too much to drink (and when you haven’t), instead of crashing on the couch (there are a gazillion fully furnished bedrooms in his house, you’d never have to crash on the couch, but you always crawl into bed with him instead of pointing that out). He’s the Harry who sort of just wiggled his way into your life and heart four years ago and forced you to be his best mate, whether you liked it or not, because he liked you.

So of course he notices when something is off with you. He always has, so you’re not entirely sure why you thought he wouldn’t notice when you went dead silent and put three miles between the two of you, when you had just been curled up against him like you always were on nights like this (and nights not like this, just kind of whenever the two of you were in the general vicinity of each other).

“Jus’ getting t'be a bit sleepy, I think. Think ’m gonna call it a night soon,” you say, and then you spare a glance to the clock on the wall, and it’s barely half ten, and Harry knew damn well that you almost never fell asleep before midnight, and if you did you’d wake up at three in the morning unable to get back to sleep.

The lie seems to do it’s job, though, because he doesn’t press you for further explanation, despite the fact that he’s looking at you in a way that lets you know he knows you’re bullshitting him and he’s bound to find out whatever it is that’s clearly bothering you. It almost feels like a challenge, but you know that this isn’t a game, and Harry gaining knowledge of your newest revelation would change everything, and probably not for the better.

It’s when you’re putting your answer into action that he presses further, because you’re grabbing for your keys, instead of announcing that you’re going to sleep with a kiss to his cheek, or wherever you can reach, and heading up the stairs to his bedroom. “Y'not staying?” He questions, and he’s got a pointed look about his face, and he really looks genuinely concerned, because you’ve never not stayed after a night like this. “’M supposed to meet m'mum for brunch,” you say, and you know it’s a lame excuse, because you’ve stayed over at Harry’s and went to work the next day with no problem. It also doesn’t help that he knows there’s no way your mum isn’t in town, because she would have texted him and made dinner plans a week in advance. They were close like that and you momentarily hate them for it.

He’s looking you over from where he sits and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more small or intimidated in your life, and all he’s done is look at you. That’s all he’s done all night, really, and you feel like you’re about to claw your way out of your own skin because of it.

The three month pining window would kill you, probably, so scratch that.

“Has anyone ever told you what an awful liar you are? I mean, I know I haven’t, but that’s because you’ve never lied t'me,” he says, and the words send chills all over you skin, because you’ve been maybe not necessarily caught, but he knows there’s something going on, and you don’t know how to get yourself out of this one.

“I’ll cancel,” you finally tell him, accepting defeat, but not admitting to the lie. The fact that there is nothing to cancel isn’t something either of you bring up, even though you both know it.

“Wanna tell me why you’ve been a mile away fr’m me all night, while we’re at it?” He murmurs, and you just shake your head, setting your keys back down on the coffee table and fitting yourself into Harry’s side. “I just didn’t want t'bother you, s'all. You’ve had people all over you for a month now, w'your album 'nd all. Wanted t'give you your space,” you explain, even though you know he’ll see right through that excuse, too, if he really thinks about it, but it’s not nearly as opaque as the brunch thing.

It’s when he calls her cute and tucks her head under his chin that she knows she’s in the clear, for now at least, and she smiles silently. 

—–

You’re in his dressing room helping him get ready for one of his secret shows when it happens again.

It’s nothing different from what you’re usually doing when you get to go to one of his shows, even did it the last couple of years that One Direction toured. You’ve seen all his bits and helped him cover each and every part of them at some point or another, so seeing him without clothes has never had a very strong effect on you (okay, well it did, because you’re human and you’re not blind to the fact that Harry’s gorgeous, but you did a damn good job of hiding it).

And he’s not even naked now, not really — he’s wearing a pair of black boxer briefs, and he’s got his shirt covering his arms, and you’re standing in front of him buttoning (and smirking up at him when he unbuttons one more of the top buttons, even though you know not to even try to start at the top and fix him up proper) from top to bottom, like you always do. It’s become something you just do, no questions asked and for no real reason, because Harry is perfectly capable of buttoning his own shirt. You just like to do it, you suppose, and he’s never had a complaint.

Your fingertips drag across his lower abdomen by accident, before you’ve finished, though, and you swear you feel like your entire body’s on fire, and he hasn’t even touched you.

“I like this shirt,” you tell him as you drag your hands over the fabric covering his tattooed chest to smooth it out. You don’t even know why you said it, it’s like you were trying to distract him from the much more intimate, in your head at least, touch before, even though he probably didn’t even notice or think anything of it if he did.

“’S the ruffles, innit? Makes all the girls wild f'me,” he says, and you know he’s teasing, but his smirk lets you believe for just a moment that he’s flirting with you.

He’s not. It’s something you decide quite easily for the both of you, because it’s easier to shut your brain down that way than let it wonder if, maybe, possibly, he might be feeling everything that you are. You’re a very humble and grounded person, and ironically enough, you pride yourself in being just that. You wouldn’t dare let yourself believe that Harry Styles would ever have any romantic interest in you.

“’S too bad I only care that this one’s wild about it,” he says, kissing your cheek, but it’s so close to your lips, just barely brushing against the corner of your mouth, that you feel dizzy from more than just his statement.

Well. Maybe that changes things little bit.

Because you’re the only one in the room with him, so it’s not like there’s some other girl lurking in the shadows that you didn’t know about. Also, he almost kissed you. Like, really kissed you. Mouth to mouth. Does he know he almost did that? Does he know that you feel like you’re going to pass out the more you think about it? Also, what does that even mean? Why does he only care that you’re 'wild’ about him? There are so many questions and you feel like you’re going to start screaming any second, so you decide a shot of tequila is the best option right now.

–

You’re standing at the side of stage when you realize there’s no coming back from this.

He’s performing 'Woman’ and you don’t think you’ve ever witnessed anything as provocative as this. He’s really into the song, is the thing, and you’re certain he could tell any girl in the building to drop her panties for him, and they would in a heartbeat. You’ll pretend that you aren’t part of that group.

Until he’s looking to the side of the stage, like he’s looking for someone, and once his gaze finds yours and stays there, you realize it’s you that he was looking for.

And oh. Oh.

You are definitely, undeniably part of the Drop-Your-Panties-For-Harry-Styles group. Very much so, indeed. 

He’s got the microphone stand between his legs and he’s practically grinding against it as he just stares at you — he’s been doing that a lot lately, and that’s another one of the many realizations you’ve had in the past week with Harry.

You swear you nearly pass out when he sings the line ’you flower, you feast,’ with the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen before he’s looking back towards the crowd.

And then you have to go. You have to leave and go to his dressing room for the rest of the song, at the very least, because you’re so fucking confused. Where did all of this even come from? Why is he suddenly acting as if he just can’t resist you anymore, like he’s been longing for you this whole time. Was he just lonely? Horny and unwilling to put any effort into finding someone to get his fix with? Was it just a joke? Because the ache in your heart and between your legs was no joke.

You consider leaving the entire establishment when you hear the beginning chords of the last song on the setlist, so that you don’t have to face him afterwards, but instead you find your way back to the side of the stage and watch proudly as your best friend absolutely rips this crowd apart with his talent. You want to cry sometimes because you’re so proud of Harry, you really do. You think you probably will when he heads off on his first headlining tour in a few months. Cry because you’re proud, but also because you’ll be without him for the majority of those three months. The thought tugs at something in your chest, probably your heart, and it makes your eyes sting just for a second, until you’ve pushed the tears off for the moment.

For now, you’re watching on with a smile you just can’t help as he belts out the last few lines of 'Sign of the Times,’ and you want to join in, but you’d die if his microphone were to pick up your awful howling, as well. So, you wait for the end, and then you cheer and scream with the rest of the crowd in front of him. You notice that he spares a glance back at you, and you send him a nod back as you continue your cheering, watching as he practically personally thanks each and every fan in the crowd until the stage has gone dark and the lights in the main establishment have come up, and everyone’s pushing and shoving their way out.

You’re grinning because the star of the whole goddamn show is walking over to you before he is anyone else, and you’re beaming as you wrap your arms around his neck. “You were fucking incredible,” you tell him against his neck, and you take the kiss to the top of your head as an acceptable way to say 'thank you.’

–

It’s when the two of you are back in his dressing room that you feel the tension build again, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you replay his question over and over again: “Where did you go after 'Woman?’”

You want to scream, shout, throw things; not because you’re angry, but because when the hell did Harry get so confrontational? Or was it just something he was doing because you were being noticeably weird with him?You don’t like it at all, despite the fact that you’re always telling him he needs to speak up more. You never meant with you. 

“Had to use the loo,” is the answer you give him, and he cocks an eyebrow at you not a moment after you’ve spoken.

“You feelin’ okay, then? You were gone for four songs after that, and I talk a lot,” he says, and it’s so matter-of-fact that you know he sees right through you, just like he had the other night when you told him you were going to brunch with your mum.

When you don’t say anything for a minute, he presses on, stepping closer to you. “I don’t understand what you’re tryin’ so hard t'hide from me, babe. First the other night, now this — what’s going on?” He questions, and his stare is intense, and it wouldn’t be if were anyone else, but as always, he’s Harry.

“I’m fine, H, just have a lot on m'mind,” you try, feeling absolutely defeated, because try as you might, it really is impossible to lie to Harry, especially when he’s looking at you the way he is. He knows something is up, because you’ve never hidden anything from him. He knew your deepest, darkest secrets three days into your friendship. He knows more about you than any of your exes ever have, and you think that could be part of what scares you so much about him. You feel like if he ever finds out, the chances of you losing him are far greater, and the idea puts a pain in your chest, because what would you ever do without Harry?

You can’t help but miserably stutter and stumble over your words when he asks you who you’ve been thinking about, rather than what, but what catches you even more off guard is him stepping until he’s nearly got you pinned against the wall of his dressing room, and you’re breathing is heavy as you stare up at this beautiful, sweaty boy who just wants to know why you’ve been treating him so differently.

“You’re all I’ve been thinkin’ about, 'f that’s any sort of encouragement,” he tells you, and you want to speak, you do — you want to say something, fucking anything, but you’re frozen and your heart is about to beat right out of your chest.

“You don’t mean that,” is what you say, for whatever reason, and you feel awful as soon as you see the way Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his lips form into a tight line, but he’s not moving away from you at all. If it were possible, you feel like you’re drowning in him even more so.

“I — of course I fucking mean it,” he argues, his eyes unmoving from yours. “I can’t believe you’d fucking say that. Have you not noticed that I spend every bit of free time I have with you? You’re the first and last person I talk to every morning and every night, and the first person I run to when I have news, 'r just something to say. You’re the first person out of everyone I know that I run to after I come off stage — of-fucking-course you’re all I think about,” he says, and although his words are nice and make you feel all warm inside, he sounds angry, and that scares you, because Harry’s never been actually angry with you.

“Harry, I — I’m sorry,” you say, and your voice is nearly a whisper and you feel like crying, because he was honest with you, and you all but said you didn’t believe him, and honestly, how could you be such an idiot? You’ve got the most beautiful man in the world standing in front of you, telling you you’re all he thinks about, and you tell him he doesn’t mean it — who does that?

“I really — I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just — it’s kinda’ hard t'believe, innit? That the person you’ve got feelings for has them for you, too?” And you realize there really is no going back after you’ve said that out loud, but hopefully it could fix what’s just happened here if he knows the only reason you said it is because it’s just a tad bit unbelievable.

“Pet,” he starts, and you smile, because after a long moment of just standing there and listening to each other breathe, you hear the familiar nickname and know you’ve got him back. “You are the meanest, most stubborn, woman ’ve ever met. Got a bloke full on puttin’ himself out there in front 'f thousands, 'nd you run away. Same bloke tells ya’ exactly what he means even after that, 'nd ya’ tell me I don’t mean it?” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear it. “Tell me how I can prove it to ya’,” he adds before you can get another word in, and he seems to already have a good idea, because his nose is brushing against yours already, but you quickly figure out that it’s going to take you asking for it before he does it, because Harry’s humble, but he has his pride, and you doubt he needs you fucking with it anymore tonight.

“’M going to start screaming if you don’t kiss me in the next three seconds,” you state, and he’s laughing as he presses his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and it’s gentle and soft and everything you ever imagined kissing Harry for the first time would be like.

And that’s how you die.

–

At least, you thought you were dead because you’re pretty certain Harry’s pillowy soft lips are what Heaven is made out of, and if you were experiencing those, you had to be dead, right?

Except now, he’s got you in the back of a car, and his hand is sliding up your thigh, beneath your skirt, and it’s then, with his lips on yours, that it happens again.

You realize that he’s probably not going to be able to come back from this, either. You don’t know when it happened, or why it seems that you both had the realization that you’re fucking mad about each other at the exact same time (not that it isn’t convenient, it’s just strange), but you’re here with him and it feels like he’s using his mouth to promise a lot more than just a few heated kisses.

You pray that this isn’t just some dare, or an adrenaline thing, because you’d have to be blind or just not paying attention to not see that Harry gets hard each and every time he performs to a crowd. Like, fully erect, you’d noticed, and of course you had always teased him for his evident praise kink (’even the twitter fans know, Harry, it’s not a secret’).

But from the way he’s pulling away to whisper praises in your own ear, about how badly he wants you and all that he wants to do to you, how long he’s wanted to do these things to you, you’re starting to realize that this is very real and you aren’t being fucked with at all.

Well, you will be, hopefully, but in an entirely different sense of the word.

You’ve somehow found your way onto Harry’s lap now, because apparently the silently pining over each other thing did a bang up job of sexually frustrating both of you, so you jumped at the opportunity. If you died in a car accident on the lap of Harry Styles with his tongue down your throat, so be it.

–

It’s only five minutes later when you realize you’ve pulled into the driveway, but it feels like it’s been hours, and your lipstick has gone to hell already, and your shirt is hanging off your shoulders, and so is Harry’s because as it turns out: you’re just as good at unbuttoning his shirts as you are at buttoning them.

Despite your messy states, you both thank the driver as you exit the vehicle, and the rush to get to his front door would be funny to absolutely anyone else, but you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to get into bed with someone. Hell, he could get the door opened, closed, and locked again and take you in the corridor and you wouldn’t care. You don’t need a bed, you need his cock. And then you wonder when your self conscious started talking like a porn star.

“Are you goin’ to laugh a'me 'f I try t'dirty talk you?” He asks, and it’s a ridiculous question, because he has no idea how much you’ve fantasized about being the one he’s whispering filth to. “Absolutely not,” is of course your answer, and it’s breathless and you’ve already let your shirt hit the floor, and you’re dropping your skirt at the bottom of the stairs, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, which are totally cotton and not matching and not sexy at all, but Harry doesn’t seem to care, because he’s pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and is picking you up to carry you up the stairs a second later.

“Take me t'bed, please,” you murmur in his ear, kissing along his jaw with your arms and legs wrapped tight around him. Everything about this is so, so, so urgent and is happening so fast, and you wish you could slow it down, even if only for a second, because it’s all so much, but it’s not enough at the same time. And you kind of want it to be perfect and remember every little thing, as cheesy as that really is.

He’s got you on his bed in no time, though, and you’re practically shaking, because that’s when it happens again. That’s when you realize this is really about to happen. You’re about to fuck your best friend, and the thought should be terrifying, if for no other reason than all that you’re risking in doing so, but you’re smiling up at him as you grasp the nape of his neck and pull him down towards you so that he’s fitting between your legs and his lips are back on yours for the first time since you got out of the car. “Want you,” you whisper against his mouth, and you realize when you press up against him that there’s no foreplay even needed, because you’re already soaked through the fabric of your panties, and you can still feel where he’s been hard since he left the stage tonight.

“’S that — do you want that?” You ask, and it’s sudden and probably sounds ridiculous, considering the situation you’re currently in, but you think it’s an important question to ask. “This, I mean. Me,” you clarify, blinking up at him, and you doubt seriously that he thinks your awkward quirkiness is cute at all right now, no matter how many times he’s implied how adorable you are because of it.

“You’re the most ridiculous person I know,” is his answer, and you’re starting to think you’ve heard more insults tonight than compliments, which is weird because you always thought Harry would be the type to tell you that you’re beautiful and kiss every inch of your skin. Turns out, he’s still just as good at picking at you even when he’s got you pinned to his bed and your lips swollen from kissing him so much. “Yes, I want that. This. You,” he says after a moment, and you’re blushing as he repeats your own words back to you in confirmation.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” is the next thing out of your mouth, because apparently filters don’t exist anymore, and he shrugs before shaking his head. “Was hoping t'get my mouth on you first, actually,” he tells you, licking over his lips, and you’d swear it was for dramatic effect, but it was also really ridiculously hot, so you can’t even be mad at him for being a walking cliché.

As much as you want to argue with that, because you want him inside of you now (and you also argue with him about whatever it is he wants to do before you eventually give up and do it), he’s looking at you like he might die if he doesn’t have his mouth on your cunt in the next two minutes. How could you deny him, really? It’d be wrong and unjust. 

Or: you really want his mouth on you, too, but you’re willing to let Harry seem more desperate to please you than you are desperate for him to eat you out, even though you’re certain that’s not the truth by any small means.

You don’t know when he took his pants off or your underwear, you must have missed it, unfortunately, but you’re watching him as he kisses over your thighs, and you feel sort of like you just got to fast forward to the good part. It’s when he licks over you completely and presses harder on the upstroke against your clit that you know that’s what happened.

You don’t know if you moan or if you scream, because you’ve tuned everything that isn’t Harry’s mouth on you and the little noises he makes against you all the way out, and you feel a little bit like you’re floating as he sucks at your clit, and your hands had flown to his hair the second he’d started that.

“Fuck, Harry, please,” you whine, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for, but you know you need more of anything he’s willing to give you. “Taste so good, baby. ’S it feel as good as y'taste?” He murmurs against you, and his voice vibrating against you may be hotter than anything you could possibly think up for him to do to you — and you’ve thought of a lot. All you can do is nod and give his hair a tug, grinding up against his mouth, and you wonder if he notices that you’re practically riding his face while he fucks his tongue into you, licking in and around your entrance, and you could cry from how good he’s making you feel. But also because it’s Harry who is doing this to you.

It’s the Harry who would rather stay in and cuddle with you than go to a party packed with A-listers. It’s Harry, whose preferred method of clearing out a cake batter bowl before putting it in the dishwasher, is the the two of you licking it clean. Harry, who would do anything and everything for you, and never make you feel like it was anything less than what he wanted to do. It’s Harry, and he’s told you a million times how much he loves you, and even if you roll your eyes at the sentiment from time to time, you know he means it, and you always say it back.

“Harry,” you say, looking down to him and the pleasure is almost overwhelming, so it pains you to make him stop, but you just want to be as close to him as humanly possible. He can devour your cunt afterwards, or later, or something. You’ll fit him into your schedule. “I — Harry, up. Come back up here, please,” and your voice is cracking, so you swallow as you look down at him, and you don’t know why you’re near tears, but you definitely are, can feel them welling in your eyes.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?” He whispers, holding you by your wrists, his thumbs gliding against the skin soothingly. “Why’re you cryin’, sweetheart? Talk t'me, please,” he murmurs, and he sounds so panicked, and it makes you feel bad because how could he ever think he’s done something wrong? This perfect, wonderful, amazing man hovering over you is clearly unaware of how fantastic he truly is. He’s looking at you with concern in his eyes, and you know he wants to comfort you, especially when you feel the warm tears trickling down your cheeks, because it’s Harry, and he won’t leave your side for hours if he ever catches you crying. Which, you don’t mind so much. But you know he needs his answer now, or he’s going to end up thinking he’s done something wrong, or to hurt you, and it’ll all be over, and you refuse to let that happen.

“No, no, no — ’m fine. Perfect, actually, just — I love you, ’s all,” is what you say, and you give him a watery smile, even when your voice gets a bit quieter and doesn’t sound nearly as rushed there at the end, because you know he knows that, especially now. There’s no way he could ever doubt it, you don’t think. He lets out a throaty laugh as he pushes his hair back where it’s fallen against his forehead, his hands dropping down to yours, holding them tightly as he leans down to kiss you for maybe the hundredth time since you first started about an hour ago, even though it feels like it’s been a lifetime. “I love you, too, you silly girl,” he assures, kissing you once again.

“No, Harry — I mean I really love you,” you murmur, breaking the kiss for a second just to say that, because you need him to know that it’s not just something you’re saying, or even being said in the same sense as you’ve always told each other. He’s looking at you with an amused expression and shaking his head, but in the fond way that doesn’t hurt your feelings. “That’s what I’ve always meant, Y/N,” he confesses, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, because it really feels like everything suddenly makes sense and all is right in the world, a love song is playing in the distance (and it’s not just in your head, so you must have missed when he turned that on, too), all the dumb things that are said in books and movies are happening to you, and you want to appreciate the moment for what it is, but you’re also going to scream if he doesn’t fuck you into his mattress soon. There’s time for talking later.

“Please, please, please fuck me. Now. Please,” and you don’t realize you’re begging for him until you’re begging for him, and it has you blushing down to your chest. “Haven’t even gotten m'dick out yet, 'nd you’re already beggin’ f'me? Love me that much?” He teases, because of course he does, but you look up at him with a new sort of determination your eyes.

You’ve got your hand on the bulge of his briefs not a second later, working over him through the fabric, and it makes your legs spread instinctively when you feel the patch of wet where the head of his cock is pressed against the fabric. It’s then that you decide you’ve had enough, and you’re doing your damnedest to try and push his boxers down. You eventually give up and he laughs and stands to tug them the rest of the way down, and it almost sounds animated, the way you gasp when you see him bare, hard, and leaking for you.

It’s not that you didn’t know Harry was a monster — he’s woken up with enough morning wood pressed against your ass and your thigh for you to be more than completely aware of just what you’re getting yourself into (or what’s getting into you, actually). But knowing it’s all for you and because of you that he’s this hard is a lot to take in.

“Y'still wan’ me?” The question catches you off guard, but you nod almost too enthusiastically for it to be anything other than embarrassing. “Tell me,” is the next thing he says, and your eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion, but your features soften as he lays you back against the bed again and offers more information on what he’s wanting from you exactly. “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside your wet cunt,” he says, and it makes you bite your lip to keep from moaning, just because Harry’s filthy, as it turns out, and your thighs are glistening with how wet you are from it all. “Want it so bad, Harry. Want — wanna’ feel you, please, all of you, every goddamn inch of your cock. Wan’ you t'fuck me until I can’t take anymore,” you whisper, and it seems to have done the trick, because the head of his cock catches on your entrance where he’s sliding between your folds, and you can feel him start to press inside of you.

You really think you could blackout when you feel the whole of him settled snugly inside of you, but it’s not until he starts to move that you have dig your nails into his shoulders and drag them down his back as he fucks back into you. “Fuck me,” you moan, your head tossed back and your hips grinding up against his. It feels so good, is the thing — he’s so big, not just his cock, but everywhere, and he’s got you pinned to the mattress as he drives into you somewhat relentlessly, and he’s stretching you so wonderfully, because he’s thick, too, and it hurts in the best kind of way.

“Wanna’ ride you.” The words leave your lips before you’ve given them permission, but Harry’s smirking at you wickedly, so clearly he’s on board with the idea. You know he is when he’s pulled out of you (and you want to die because of that) and he’s got you on top of himself now and is unhooking your bra. “Feel like I owe your tits a personal apology for not paying attention t'them sooner,” he tells you, and you lean down to kiss his stupid mouth, rocking back over his cock. You tease him like that for a long minute, just grinding against him and feeling him against you, before you’ve decided that you quite miss the feeling of him inside of you.

You start to tell him that, but then it hits you that you’ve got the power now, so you take him into your hand after that, lining him up, and you sink down on him slowly, smiling into the kiss you’re giving him, because you can’t even begin to count the number of times you’ve dreamed of this moment exactly. It feels so good to be fucking yourself on Harry’s cock, and you don’t pass up the opportunity to tell him that this time. It makes him groan as he stares up at where you’re properly bouncing on him, and you notice when his eyes drop down to watch where he’s fucking in and out of your pussy, and you swear you feel him twitch inside of you at the sight. “Takin’ me so well,” he praises, and apparently you’ve got a bit of a praise kink, as well, and you throw your head back when you feel him begin to thrust up into you, the head of him nudging against your most sensitive part each time. “Harry, fuck,” you breathe, your fingers curling and nails digging into his chest.

You’re so torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to hear everything he has to say, that you’ve settled for just kissing his neck and his jaw, leaving a lovebite or two in your wake, listening while he tells you how beautiful you are (you were right, he is into that), how good you feel, how you’re going to make him cum, and God — you hadn’t even allowed the reality of that sink in yet. Through all of this, you had completely forgotten that you had a goal, something you wanted to accomplish, because all you’ve wanted is to be as close as possible to him this whole time.

Now, however, you really want to make him cum, and you want it inside you (you’re very much on birth control and if you were to get pregnant, having a baby with Harry wouldn’t be the end of the world, and he wouldn’t be the first former member of One Direction to become a father). “Want you t'cum inside me, yeah? Fill me up,” you tell him, and you feel it when his grip on your hips tightens and he helps you fuck yourself over him faster. “Not until you cum on my cock,” he replies, and you clench around him at that, fucking down harder each time. “Need y'to touch me,” you whisper, grabbing for his wrist and guiding his hand towards your clit, “here.”

Your moans get louder the second he presses the pads of his fingers to your clit, rocking your hips harder, with more determination to get off. “I wanna cum,” you whine, and you want it so bad, now that you’ve remembered that’s part of all of this, that you could cry. You were a bit spoiled when it comes to getting your with Harry, you could say, because his fingers are quick and just right on your little bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight circles and applying just enough pressure. “Know y'wanna cum, baby. Wan’ y'to. Wanna feel y'squeezin’ me,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing over your ear. “Can y'do that f'me, angel? Come for me,” he continues, but his voice is so low and he sounds just as wrecked as you feel, and you can feel his lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

And then you’re pretty fucking sure you did, in fact, die this time.

Everything goes black, your lips parted in a silent scream, but not because you’re not trying, but everything feels too fucking good and you can’t even make a sound, aside from the pathetic sobs you’re letting out into his shoulders. You can feel your cunt pulsing around him, your clit throbbing beneath his fingers, and you’re sure he’s drenched with you, but it evens out because you feel him releasing inside you not even a minute later.

This time you moan his name, grinding yourself on his cock while he empties himself inside of you, fucking him through his orgasm, despite how tired and sensitive you are, praising him and thanking him with each and every movement, milking him for all he’s worth as you listen intently to the string of curses and your name falling from his lips.

You feel him dripping down your thighs the moment you slide off of his cock, but you only move to straddle the lower part of his torso, making a mess of his abs, and you can’t begin to explain how little care about that when you lean down to kiss him. “Thank you,” you whisper, and you don’t know why you say it, but it feels like something that needs to be said, because you are thankful for everything that’s just happened.

“I love you,” is his response, a smile tugging the corners of his lips up, and you can’t help but kiss him again. “For how long?” You question, and you’re about to explain what you mean, because you just want to know how long he’s known he loved you, like this, but he answers you with “probably forever” before you can elaborate, and it makes your heart skip a beat. He’s decided to answer the question in the ‘how long are you going to love me’ sense, you realize.

You blink down at him, like you’re surprised, but he’s just wearing his signature smirk and you feel a bit lightheaded. He seems so sure of everything he’s told you in the last day or so, and it’s so scary, but it makes you wonder how long he’s felt this way and how he figured out that you finally realized that you felt this way, too. Was he sitting on the couch beside you, staring at you instead of paying attention to The Great British Bake Off, too?

“How’d you figure out that I was just cranky ‘cos I realized ‘m in love w’you?” Is the next question you ask, and he shrugs, staring up at you and letting his fingertips drifts over your skin. “Jus’ know you, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “‘Nd I remembered how red y’had gotten when y’mum told y’that we’d end up t’gether, ‘nd then y’started tryin’ t’push me away, ‘nd I knew you’d realized she was right. Plus, I did the same bit t’you when I realized. Remember when I’d hardly talk t’ya’ when I was in Jamaica? Wasn’t just ‘cos I needed t’focus on m’album,” he explains, and you laugh, because everything really does make sense now. 

You’re laying down beside him, curled into his side in what has always been your favorite position when you speak again. “I love you, too,“ you nearly whisper, and you’ve got a smile curling your lips, your hand wrapped around his wrist and your other arm slung over his chest where you’re resting your chin to look up at him. “Probably forever.”

[dem-khuya]

03242019:2034

hello good evening. it has been busy and i haven’t had much time to write, so i’ll try to fit this one in before bed. lately it has been hard to sleep without taking melatonin. i keep thinking too much. i use it i guess to deaden whatever it is that creeps up on me in the evenings

this weekend we had the annual china leadership summit between two universities--mine and our ‘rival’ (it’s so dumb using tht word but i guess thts what they are). it was wonderful. tiring but really eye-opening experience

i took so many notes at the keynotes/seminars i attended. here are a couple that stood out, as well as what i’d like to remember from them: 

* joanna chiu. i really enjoyed hearing her reports on china, though i have a lot of mixed feelings towards her career trajectory. i am always quite skeptical of those who report heavily on chinese human rights violations, as if the west were a better example of human rights...hah. anyway. one important point she shared was never to underestimate the role of social media, even when it is barely considered “real” news. wechat is how she reached many ppl while she was in china as well as observed the downfall of various dissidents and activists. another interesting person she mentioned was a woman named hooligan sparrow, a woman who used viral images to attract attention to sexual assault/abuse of young women and girls. 

* lina benabdallah. one of my favorite, favorite talks. she spoke on china-africa relations. her opening question was “what first comes to your mind when you think about china-africa relations?” and obviously many people responded, “neo colonialism, debt traps, exploitation.” it was so funny because lmao as lhiftya said, it was truly the pot calling the kettle black. as if america and europe has never colonialized or exploited africa. : ) in any case, she spoke on china’s human resource contributions to african nations, esp. government scholarships, training seminars/workshops, employment opportunities, medicine...a lot of people were rendered speechless (mostly non-chinese hah hah hah!) because they honestly did not even consider those things. one of my favorite points she mentioned was that china thinks in the long-term with regards to its relationship to african countries, never the short-term, and is more willing to offer long-term help and aid and relationships...additionally their human resource contributions are what make them more favorable than western countries because. well. obviously. lol. really enjoyed her talk and will make a note to request her powerpoint because there were some invaluable statistics in there.

* matt turpin: i don’t like the guy. i also disagree with almost everything he talked about. but it was really interesting to learn more about how shitty us foreign policy was. he said that there were 3 main segments on US foreign policy in china: national security, human rights, as well as economy/commercial. the US believed that by prioritizing commercial/economic relationships with China, it would be able to coerce china into “improving” human rights and “becoming less of a security threat.” long story short, they only realized that they were wrong in 2013, and until now have not developed any new foreign policy towards china because china was proceeding in a direction that was not predictable by US/western standards (according to him, the US considered it a non-normative country, which is equivalent to...terrorist organizations lmfao. can you fucking believe?). other notes that he mentioned: spheres of influence (china respects their own) vs universal norms (obviously they are western norms), competitive approaches, military strength towards china...china becoming not normative but also not a non-normative power...etc. very funny stuff. insightful but quite...ruinous

* david wertime: wonderful...a great way to set the mood for our final day. he mostly emphasized the power of social media and reporting on china. idk what he does now but he was a prominent journalist for a long time, usually translating information from weibo before. he had such wonderful advice for us starting our careers--he said, we should select a career where our strengths are considered strengths, and not weaknesses. we should be in a job where we feel like we can “kick ass”. and he said, when making life-long decisions, always know that the negatives are perceivable in the present (should be written in pen) while the positives, while not predictable, can potentially greatly outweigh the negatives (should be written in pencil). everyone wrote those words down! he also wrote an article about a chinese-adoptee named “jenna cook”, who returned to wuhan to search for her birth parents. she didn’t find them, but she found over 50 mothers and fathers who had abandoned their own baby girls in the same bridge in wuhan, and wished that she was their daughter. i hope to read this story soon

* jessica teets: also wonderful. she reported on china’s ever expanding surveillance system, the social credit system, and xi jinping’s differences from his predecessors. i would also love the ppt on her work as well as recs for think tanks to potentially work at haha...i love the use of big data in china, and i really think the use of digital surveillance as a method of policing people is both scary and ... incredible. i will always admire that china will hold everyone accountable regardless if they are a normal citizen, an actor, a politician...everyone is the same before the law. obviously this is a gross exaggeration but the extent of which chinese government will go out of their way to enforce such methods against all people from walks of life is quite admirable. i hope that the social credit system improves, and that chinese government continues to improve in “fairness” (i’m tired so i’m keeping this short and somewhat incoherent)

afterwards i went out with jing to get onigiri and talked with her a lot...she mentioned something about the panama canal, which xi jinping was also involved in, but became censored in china later. the censorship in china is somewhat worrying. i’m not chinese so i have no other say in it except that. i really loved talking w jing and hope i can see her again soon. i met so many wonderful people and reconnected with great friends (mohit!!) and it was a good reminder to me that i must make time in my schedule to meet friends and spend time with them 

once the bus took jing back to her uni, an older man approached me asking if i knew where a piano recital was, i told him i didn’t but we went looking for it together and i wound up attending it. it was so wonderful...i love music concerts and i really liked meeting this stranger. we talked for a while. he told me a lot about his wife and it made me wonder if perhaps his wife passed away. one poignant thing he said was that he isn’t really a music or artistic person but his wife was and that was how he started attending concerts, buying art pieces. i liked him quite a lot. his name is ralph : ) i got his email and i hope i can send him pics of my taipei trip (he’s going to beijing in the fall!). 

all in all a good day but i’m feeling the emptiness coming back. lhiftya mentioned that i am probably depressed and you know what maybe she’s right. i’ve always ignored the possibility because i don’t have the same episodes as she does--i can relate to the deep hopelessness she feels but for me it goes away quickly so i never considered myself depressed but when i read my older diary entires it seems that such hopelessness never really does leave me. it goes away and it always, always comes back. how sad...i don’t know what will become of me but i hope that i can keep exercising and seeing friends and maybe i can finish out this year alive and half-healthy

[hyun-seong]

Hey I can see you’re alive lol. Have your days been alright like better than before? You can ask me anything and I’ll tell you what I have been doing. I just got out of ‘long’ shower and noticed you when I open the app. Tbh I’ve been feeling depressed and like there’s no one who could help me get distracted and make me laugh since last month otl. Well there was my best friends but something happen so yeah. I’ve been feeling tired of living this world for four years haha. It okay because (1/2)

 It’s okay since I have some male groups I like and help me forget living this world just little bit 

TW SUicide on this one fellas

MY DAYS have been a little better, my mom gets more and more healed every day even if its slow or a little bit, I am tired because I have to irrigate her tubing every six hours aND IM BAD AT SLEEPING so i lose time not sleeping and then trying to sleep but my body is adjusting so thats good lmao I WAS ACTUALLY doing really badly until last night if im being honest, the stress was getting to me and i was angry that not only did i have to do this mostly by myself but that i also had to deal with my grandmother breathing down my back PRETENDING to help, i was changing her stoma bag and I was taught how to do this, she wasnt, she really had no business trying to dictate what to do and she didnt know what half the things i was doing were for so im trying basically to add binding powder in the area between her skin and her intestine and im about to pour it in and shes like “Dont do that yet” and like tries to dislodge something that just...isnt ready to come out...AND I WAS THINKING IN MY HEAD...MCSCUSE ME BITCH THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW....IF YOU WANTED TO be in the way so bad why didnt you learn from one of the nurses who was like ALWAYS in there you blew your chance....and then my poor mother was saying how she felt so bad i had to do this and i was trying to tell her look youre my mother i really dont mind and im trying to console her and my grandma cuts me off to tell her that she doesnt mind like WHAT....WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT MIND?? WHAT DO YOU DO BUT LAUNDRY EVERY SO OFTEN?? TF??? SHE WASNT TALKING TO YOU.....LEAVE....god i was livid....and then the home nurse who comes every three days to change her bandages was supposed to arrive at 7pm so 6pm comes around and my grandma is like trying to find her business card to call and bother her and im like?? wait until 7 and call if she doesnt show?? and shes like BUT SHE SAID...SHED CALL AND CONFIRM...and my dads like “mom just wait for a bit” and she goes like “OH OK i wont call, I guess im the only one who CARES” and im like WHAT THE FUCK....................... and hes just like “she said shes coming at 7 and would call if she needed to go at a different time” and that shut her up....the gall....the goddamn gall...the sheer audacity......to imply i dont care.....when the bags under my eyes have BAGS and she sleeps a solid 12 hours a night LIKE SORRY I HAVE FAITH IN A PAID PROFESSIONAL...

BUUUT in the middle of the night my boyfriend sends me a message (THIS IS BG INFO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SKIP UNTIL YOU SEE !!!!!!!!!!!!! IF U WANT) and as you might know hes been living in Seattle since august but flew down for a month to be here during my moms surgery, so hes been saying stuff like oh we can do this, lets do this, or we will do this next time AND STUFF like that and im thinking to myself when the fuck do you think we have the time to do this stuff you have to go back at the end of the month.....but it was nice to hear so i didnt challenge the statements hahaha because it was hard since we met in may 2016  but IT FEELS LIKE...A CENTURY ive known him.  I remember like a couple months ago he was like man i cant believe its already been two years AND IM LIKE IT HASNT...IT REALLY HASNT.........ITS NOT EVEN 1.5.....and we were both like..........what the fuck??? and its because...we never got to do the fun things, we met, had a good few dates and then Life Happened™ the way it tends to about 5 months after we met, and he said basically I have to move to Seattle because I am inheriting a restaurant and I don’t think there’s ever going to be a person like you again and i wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend and was waiting for the right time and i think i should start fresh and you should find someone who can give you the time you deserve, it sounded like a sacrifice and it was ridiculous to me because time with anyone else met nothing to me, it wasnt what i wanted, and i cried for DAYS just nonstop crying, and I always thought movies were overreacting but it feels like you’re legitimately dying, and to me it hurt worse because he liked me, it would have hurt less if he just didnt like me, that I could get over, but youre always taught love prevails so it felt like such a blindside when it doesn’t, but there was something in me, this nagging feeling like I am not going to leave him alone, LIKE IF HE STOPS ANSWERING my texts messages I will respect that IM NOT GOING TO BE LIKE...........STAY WITH ME IF U DONT WANT TO..... but I will pull for him as long as I can because thats what i felt was right, and not to toot my own horn but im not usually wrong when my brain nags me about something

so 2017 starts and i invite him every possible place I can, he took forever to reply to my texts but he would....eventually....we spent our birthdays together, we went thrift shopping, went to the zoo, and i never touched him but to shake his hand goodbye until my birthday where he held his arms out to hug me. The zoo was the last time I saw him before he moved and this was August 2017 and we were watching the gorillas and i love apes and monkeys haha so we were sitting on the bench in the back cos i had to be there for a bit and he held his hand out for me to hold it and i was so happy sitting there looking at apes holding his hand and i felt him squeeze it, I don’t know if he knew I’d notice but I did, and I thought to myself “I would die for this” because it was the only thing I stood to lose in this world and I would let it kill me

SO HE moves at the end of August and since he took so long moving the restaurant with to his other aunt and im a miserable son of a bitch and the whole time im concocting a plan to make it work but im not allowed where hes staying because im white so IM NOT WELCOME LOL....and he wasnt being paid for his work so its not like we could rent somewhere and i have a bad income myself lol it just seemed so impossible, and he said im so sorry i had been distant to you for that time, the idea of being away from you hurt so much and i knew in the end i would be separated from you and nothing was going to change it but you showed since day one unconditional love and youve told me how much you loved me in so many ways without ever saying it and it made me realize my past relationships had been wrong the whole time and I knew it because...my brain nagged me and told me but it was still such a relief to hear and when he came down for the fake christmas we had to throw before moms surgery we actually got to be like a normal couple haha...but it hurt because I knew I just had to say goodbye again

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so anyways last night I get a message saying my brother says if I clean up the house and live her permanently, I can get a cat, and I really want to get a cat and it just...now when I am stressed I think about it, I get to keep him haha, you know he never did actually ask me to be his girlfriend, hes the type who wouldn't want to create in me obligation if he couldn't provide for me,  NOT THAT i ever mind, but its like maybe its redundant at this point who knows haha and he still inherits that restaurant heaven forbid his other aunt dies, but then well....I’ll be allowed in the house.......... SO LIFE...CAN get better in like the BLINK of an eye, sometimes the greatest gifts will fall in your lap to keep you through the hardest of times, so thats why when I never asked him why he was so hopeful for a future of us because I never wanted him to stop talking like that, because it was something I had never gotten to hear until this month and now I know why 

BUT I AM YOUR BEST FRIEND I WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH

that makes me laugh 

but really you’re not alone, you are a great great friend to me, and I know that me even saying that might not even help, myself, my mother, my boyfriend and my bestfriend are heavily depressed you know I can vouch it runs in my family pretty deep, and when one suggests suicide one has to come in and say ....NO NO NOW BAD IDEA...its like we just stay alive to make sure the others stay alive because you want them to live, its a sad sad cycle but its kept us alive...barely...theres been close calls with all of us lmfao and its kinda hard to worry about keeping 4 ppl alive...but we are still so THATS GOTTA COUNT

 and its okay to not be okay, but you arent wrong or bad or broken and you are definitely not a burden especially on the days where mustering a grin is impossible, anyone expecting you to be happy all the time only wants the joyous you, and in that case they dont deserve the joyous you anyways

HEY WHATEVER keeps you going as little and as dumb as it may seem or sound, it isn’t, I remember I would only get out of bed because I told myself “I have to wash my face” AND ITS GOOD you have these groups to keep you afloat and if you’re looking for some good laughs I suggest watching Cow Chop because they make me laugh every day anD ITS NICE...theyre fucking funny haha 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT3myJSvQlU&list=PLh9wof0uUEewSqGIiU1cLB0o-9VpcDqZl&index=38

i recommend starting with these videos and amazon primetime because it will acclimate you to the main two who make up cow chop and i linked you to one of my favs I HOPE YOU LIKE THEM unless you already know them I STILL HOPE YU LIKE THEM

that being said youre doing well, you’re doing very well and I am sorry its hurting because its a terrible feeling and it doesnt go away, it probably never does end altogether as small as you may be able to push it down thats why I want to make sure when the boygroups disband you have something, I dont want to risk a shock to the system when you wake up and go WHAT DO I HAVE...I HAVE NOTHING....ITS NOT LIKELY because interests do change and you do find things but to make sure that doesnt happen all I can really do is offer you my unwavering support and love, any method of contact thats good for you is good for me IDK WHY MY TUMblr didnt show i had messages for like two days but yours actually dinged on my phone which is how i sAW I HAD SOME.... so hopefully they ding on my phone still and i will be able to get to you ASAP but if you need my facebook for messenger or my number so i can be there quicker you can also send me a dm and ill get you those AND IF YOU CAN try and do something small for the you in the future, I know its hard to think about future you when present you doesnt even wanna exist BUT future you is coming and they will thank you, I screwed my future self over so many times and now present me is like youre a real dumbfuck so LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES LOL but forgetting i guess is good, I GUESS...cos its what i do like im happy until i remember then im like ah...yes..BUT THEN im worried its avoiding the problem so IDK if thats healthy or not BUT WHAT CAN YOU DO....ill let you know if i know

ANYWAYS good luck, I am rooting for you, I love you so dearly and I care so much about you and I hope one day I get a message saying im happy im here