#like do you ever think about how louis has to deliberately hold himself back

[cuntylestat]

You didn’t kill Lestat. You spared him out of some fucked-up idea you had about love. Love? I bled him like a pig and waited for the death rattle.

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 1)

It’s the first kegster of his senior year, the first kegster after his first fucking win as captain of the Samwell Men's Hockey Team, and Dex just-

Dex needs a moment.

The porch is empty. Dex settles down, sets aside his half-empty can of beer. Looks down the road of frat houses, all in various stages of Saturday night festivities. The water polo frat, Dex thinks, is gonna have one hell of a post party cleanup.

Inside the Haus, someone’s put on I wanna dance with somebody. Dex almost smiles.

It’s maybe a little weird, how he doesn’t even have to be in there to know exactly what’s going on.

Bully and Hops are dancing, and Louis is definitely not. He’ll be off in a corner, talking to whoever will listen (Whiskey, most likely, since he’s always off to the side if he can help it) about how he can’t understand why he hasn’t been appointed officially in charge of all kegster playlists, yet. Tango, meanwhile, is probably still trying to get Farmer and her friends to explain all the rules of volleyball, in detail, unless Ford has staged her usual intervention. Chowder will be wherever Farmer is, the Scones are still riding that sweet, sweet high of their first NCAA victory… And then there’s Nursey.

Somehow, there’s always Nursey.

He’s there in the early mornings, when Dex thinks he’ll hit the gym before anyone else, his smiles casual and his chirps gentle. He shows up every so often when Dex gets out of class, with Dex’s favourite flat white from Annie’s and a wry smile, and drags Dex along to Founders where they’ll sit together in near silence and mostly not study. Or, actually, Nursey kind of studies for real. Dex… Well.

Lately, Dex can't say he's been all that productive, when Nursey is around.

It really shouldn’t feel as novel as it does. The elements of a crush were always there. If Dex hadn’t meticulously labeled those flaring emotions as something entirely different, those first couple of years, the two of them might've gotten here a whole lot sooner.

Because they’re finally kind of getting somewhere, aren’t they? Unless Dex has been reading Nursey completely wrong, lately. Except he can’t have, not really – the way Nursey’s been staying so close to him, out of choice, those soft smiles and clearly intentional touches. Earlier that same evening, Nursey had let his hand rest on the small of Dex’s back, gently and deliberately and not for the first time. Dex isn’t actually sure what might've happened between them if he’d turned towards Nursey, just then, and met his eyes directly.

Maybe, Dex thinks, he’s finally ready to find that out. To take that leap. See where they land.

The door opens, then closes.

“Hey. Sorry if I’m bothering you.”

Dex turns around, offers a brief smile. He nods towards the empty space next to him.

Whiskey walks over, and sits down.

Dex picks up his can of beer and holds it up towards Whiskey.

“Really good game, tonight.”

Whiskey clinks his bottle against it, almost dutifully.

Dex takes a long drink. Whiskey drinks, too. He’s quiet, which is completely on brand, yet for some reason he seems a little more restless than usually.

“You baked pie,” Whiskey says, after a moment.

Which is not what Dex expected, at all. But at least it’s something.

“Did you get a slice?”

“I did, yeah. It was pretty good.”

“Tried my best.” Dex shrugs. “Obviously, I’ll never live up to Bitty’s legendary baking legacy.”

“You don’t have to,” Whiskey says, and then he pauses, as though he’s choosing his words very carefully. “You don’t have to be the same captain Bitty was.”

“Oh, I could never be.” Dex sips his beer. “We’re similar, though, in a lot of ways. I think that’s part of why I’ve come to look up to him so much.”

“That’s… Yeah.” Whiskey looks away. “I mean, I voted for him, too.”

“You got his dibs,” Dex says, and it’s not quite a question. “That’s pretty cool.”

For some reason, that makes Whiskey grimace.

“Honestly? I’m still not sure why.”

Dex looks at Whiskey, then, really looks at him. Finds that the tension he’s so used to seeing in Whiskey’s shoulders isn’t quite there, anymore. Acknowledges that the usually guarded look in Whiskey’s eyes has given way to something tentatively curious, yet still hesitant. Above all, though, Whiskey looks like he’s so, so tired, like there’s something constantly exhausting him. Like every breath of fresh air just leaves him more drained than the one before.

And if that isn’t a feeling Dex finds all too familiar.

“You know, I actually voted for you,” Dex says. “As captain.”

Whiskey startles – no, flinches. Dex has never seen him look so bewildered.

“You bring a lot to this team,” Dex continues firmly. “You make our best plays, and you always look out for everyone on the ice. You don’t make a big fuss about it, but I always know you’re going to have my back, no matter what. You lead by example.”

“Bitty led by example,” Whiskey says – argues, almost. “By being loud, and proud, and one hundred percent unapologetically himself at all times. And I’m not… That's just not me.”

“You don’t have to be like Bitty, any more than I do,” Dex says, gently. “You know that, right? There’s literally one million other versions of being proud of who you are. It’s okay to find one that you're comfortable with. It’s okay if that takes time.”

Whiskey leans back, abruptly – he looks almost as if he’d very much like to take off, running, rather than acknowledge any part of what Dex has just said. Yet then he stills. Something shifts in his expression.

“You and Nurse,” he says, simply.

Dex draws in a breath. Whiskey is watching him intently.

"I mean, yeah," Dex says. Because somehow, he owes Whiskey this. "Me and Nursey."

Whiskey nods, slowly.

"Huh."

"It's not… We haven't really talked about it, yet."

That makes Whiskey look surprised.

"Some things take time," Dex adds, completely aware of how he’s repeating himself. "And, like, there's no rush. There's not going to be a finish line. No prize for getting there first."

“But you know what you want,” Whiskey says. His voice is a little hoarse, compared to before. “You know who you are.”

“You’ll get there,” Dex says, quietly but firmly. “Whatever that means for you. It’ll be difficult, and it might take time. But you’ll make it through.”

Whiskey merely shrugs.

They’re both quiet for a long moment, after that.

Then Whiskey gets up.

“Think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Okay.” Dex smiles towards him. “See you at team breakfast, tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Yet Whiskey lingers for a moment, almost if there’s something more he means to say. “Thank you. I mean, for the company.”

“Anytime,” Dex says, and finds that he really means it. “You can always talk to me, Whiskey. About anything.”

Whiskey nods once more, his expression unchanging, before quickly heading inside.

Dex watches him go.

He’d like to keep a much closer eye on Whiskey, from this moment on. He can’t, though. Whiskey would realize immediately. And that’s no good – it’s got to be on Whiskey’s terms, or not at all.

It's something Dex knows from experience.

The door opens again.

It's Nursey.

"Whiskey just came in, looking like, super unchill." Nursey closes the door behind him. "Did something happen?"

"He's a bit stressed, but he's okay."

"Oh. Good, then." Nursey walks over, yet he doesn't sit down. Instead he leans against the banister in a way that’s probably supposed to look casual, and glances towards Dex from the side. “Are you okay, though?”

“Of course I am.”

Nursey frowns. “You seemed a bit out of it, earlier.”

“Earlier tonight?”

“Before the game.”

“Ah,” Dex says. Because of course Nursey would pick up on what Dex had been trying so hard to conceal. On the very reason why he’s come out to the porch, all by himself, while a seriously ‘swasome kegster is still going on inside. “I guess I’m just not really used to it all, yet? The whole captain bit.”

Nursey hums. “You’re not in this alone, you know. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“And, like, if you wanted to have an alternate? You could do that. I’m sure the team would be cool with it.”

“Actually,” Dex says, “I’ve sort of been thinking about that for a while now.”

Nursey grins.

“Oh, man. Chowder’s gonna freak out so hard, when you ask him.”

“What makes you so certain I’m not going to ask you?”

Nursey turns to stare at him, abruptly.

“That’s a joke, right? God, please tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s mostly a joke,” Dex admits with a slight grin, and there’s no way he’s gonna pass on the obvious chirp. “Chill, man.”

“You do not get to use that word in this context.” Nursey still looks decidedly unsettled. “Fuck, me? The A? Do you have any idea how many papers an English major needs to churn out his senior year?”

“Yeah, you poor baby.”

“Ha, ha. God, I need another drink.”

“There’s someone else I have in mind, actually,” Dex says. That look in Whiskey’s eyes, uncertain yet somehow still so determined, is fresh in his memory. “Someone who could grow into the role, maybe? Someone who needs an opportunity to learn more about themselves, and all they can be.”

Nursey frowns. “It’s not Tango, is it? Because if our pre-game ritual turns into twenty fucking questions, I’m one hundred percent blaming you.”

Dex smiles.

“No. It’s not Tango.”

“Well. Good.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Then Nursey looks over at Dex – really looks at him, meeting his eyes directly – before slowly (and intentionally, one might say) stepping away from the banister and sitting down in the same spot Whiskey occupied, earlier. Except Nursey might be sitting a bit closer to Dex. Maybe a lot closer.

It’s a little bit ridiculous, but does it still make Dex’s heart flutter? Fuck yeah.

“So,” Nursey says, his voice strangely calm – chill, even though the way he can’t quite make himself face Dex as he speaks gives him away completely. “Are we ever gonna, y’know. Have this conversation?”

Dex takes a deep breath. Then he reaches out, takes Nursey’s right hand in his. Laces their fingers together, softly yet very deliberately.

“Yeah. I think it’s time we do.”

(ch. 2)

[hb-writes]

Thank you? No one has ever said that to me before.

Inspired by my 100+ lovely followers, @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list, and those fun OC questions we tried out a few weeks ago when I wasn’t able to write a thing.

Summary: After having her wisdom teeth removed, Charlie Specter is brought to her brother’s office to recuperate. High on pain meds, she ends up doing a bit of stand up comedy in the bullpen and gives Mike a compliment he will never forget. 

Featuring: Mike Ross, Rachel Zane, and Charlie Specter

-----

Mike first caught a glimpse of Charlie behind Rachel’s head, just sparing her a quick glance at first before realization hit him and he took in the whole scene--the suit jacket draped over her shoulders, the moccasin slippers, the puffy cheeks, and sleep ravaged hair, all of it up on a swivel chair in the bullpen for everyone to see. 

“Shit,” Mike said, stopping Rachel mid-sentence and her eyes followed his.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking after her?” Rachel said.

“She was asleep,” he answered. “Like completely out. I thought--”

“Well, she’s certainly not now.” 

Mike was meant to be watching Charlie while Harvey was in a meeting and Donna was out getting lunch, and he had checked on her, twice already, actually. She’d been asleep both times, practically comatose, entirely immune to his poking or calling her name, but still breathing. He’d double checked on that. 

Donna had told him Charlie would probably sleep until Harvey finished up for the day. The girl was strongly affected by pain killers, always had been. Yet despite Donna’s assurances, here Charlie was giving impressions to the associates. 

“The only time succc--succck--suck-cess comes before work!” Charlie pointed at the nearest associate, Harold, the words slurring as they came through her lips. “Is in the dictionary. I worked all day and all night and walked up hill both ways to get to the office in the snow and rain so now I’m a big important law man with a corner office. And I dress better than everyone in this room. And no one can tell me what to do.”

She showed off the sleeves of the suit jacket before bowing dramatically, like a court jester before royalty.

Mike stepped out of his cubicle. “I should, uh--”

“Handle that?” Rachel suggested, eyebrows raised as she looked to the youngest Specter, a small smirk on her face.

“Yeah, I should go handle that,” Mike said, whispering ‘shit’ once again to himself as Charlie moved on to introducing an impersonation of Louis. 

Mike moved across the bullpen, stopping in front of the girl on the swiveling chair and reaching out for her hand. “Charlie, you have to come down from there.” 

A smile broke out on her face, the chair spinning a bit as she jolted excitedly. “Mike! Everyone, look! It’s Michael Ross. First year associate, olympic bicyclist, grammy’s boy, teddy bear collector, an--”

“Alright, that’s enough of--” Mike started, steadying the chair.

“Mike, I’m gonna do Louis next!” 

“No, Charlie, c’mon,” he said. “Come down from there.” 

“No, I’m--” Mike wasn’t sure how exactly, but he pulled her from the chair and into his arms in a swift move and Charlie immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, a pout on her face. 

“But I was gonna talk about prunies and bran bars and cats and mudding and...” she mumbled, an exaggerated pout on her lips. “I had a whole thing planned.”

“That was planned?” Mike asked, eyebrow raised.

“Obviously, Michael,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Wait, no. I just came up with it. I’m very spontaneous, Mike. Very, very clever. The cleverest person in the building, probably.” 

“I can see that.” 

“Wanna know how I’d impersonate you?” Charlie cleared her throat and attempted to sit up straighter, forgetting she was in Mike’s grasp, forgetting that the only thing keeping her from falling to the floor was Mike’s arms under her knees and around her back. 

“I’m Mike. Pew, pew, pew,” she said, shooting finger guns at him. “You’re stupider than me because you’re not as smart or cool and you don’t have any skinny little ties.” 

Charlie laughed to herself. “Oh! Oh! And!” She cupped her hands over Mike’s ear. “And I’m in loOoOoOove with Rachel,” she whispered, giggles erupting from her lips in between the words. 

Mike’s cheeks burned as Charlie continued to giggle in his arms. 

“You’re high as a kite, Charlie.” 

“No, I’m not! I’ve never even heard of drugs...or alcohol! Hugs not drugs, Michael.” She poked him in the cheek. “You should listen to that advice.” 

“I’ll do that,” Mike answered. “Do you even remember taking pain killers?”

“I didn’t take any pain killers.‘I’m’ ‘very’ ‘sensitive’ ‘to’ ‘them’,” she answered, a deliberate pair of air quotes assigned to each of the words. “Wait, can I take some? A pretty doctor pulled my teeth out today.”

Mike sighed as he set her feet on the ground just inside of Harvey’s office. 

“Let’s just get you back to sleep.” 

Mike took the suit from her shoulders and tossed it over one of the arm chairs. 

“But now I don’t look fancy.” 

“Well, how about I give you this nice fancy blanket instead?” he suggested, holding it up.

Charlie smiled, snatching the blanket from Mike’s hands before running and jumping onto Harvey’s couch. Mike picked up the pillow that had fallen on the floor when she pounced and dropped it on the couch beside her.

“I think I’m a little tired,” Charlie said, lowering her head to the pillow. “Stand up is hard work, Mike. You should keep your day job.” 

“Thanks for the advice,” Mike answered. 

“Can you tuck me in?” Charlie asked. “Harvey always tucks me in.”

“Always?” Mike asked. 

Charlie nodded as Mike pulled the blanket up under her chin and settled it around her.

“But it’s a secret. He thinks I’m asleep when he does it, but sometimes I’m not,” she whispered. 

Mike nodded. “Do you need anything else?” 

Charlie shook her head, snuggling further under the blanket as Mike sat in the armchair beside her. Charlie mumbled his name.

“Yeah?” Mike asked. 

She was looking to the ceiling or at least she hadn’t bothered turning to look at him. 

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“One more, then you should get some rest.”

“You have really pretty blue eyes,” she mumbled. “Pretty like a blue... colored...  pencil.”

Mike snorted, shaking his head a moment. “Thank you? No one, uh, well...no one has ever said that to me before.” 

“The prettiest of pretty blue colored pencils,” she continued. “Crayola ones, not Roseart. You’re like Crayola, like a...” 

“Like a what?” Mike asked, leaning forward enough to see that Charlie had passed out mid-sentence. 

Charlie’s birthday wasn’t for a little over a month yet, but Mike already had a plan for her gift. Sure, he’d end up with a few extra art supplies lying around, but the idea of Charlie unwrapping a package containing various shades of blue colored pencils was simply too good an opportunity to pass up. 

--

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[dailytomlinson]

How does an artist find himself after leaving the biggest boy band on the planet? He leans into authentic self-expression. “I'm aware that to a certain degree, I'm swimming against the tide,” Louis Tomlinson tells Apple Music. “I've had all this amazing success with One Direction, I realised that I might as well just follow my heart.” And so the English singer-songwriter has: Walls, his solo debut, is electric pop-rock, triumphant in the face of tragedy—he writes with diaristic precision (the balladic ode to his late mother on “Two of Us” and the ’90s Britpop guitars on “Kill My Mind”) and consideration for his most ardent fans (the 1D-channelling “Don’t Let It Break Your Heart” and the life-affirming “Perfect Now”). In this track-by-track guide, Tomlinson opens up about Walls, revealing a side of himself previously undiscovered.

Kill My Mind

“That song was written for two reasons: One, I was listening to the album and it annoyed me that I didn't quite have that moment of excitement, and I think that song definitely evokes excitement. [Two,] it was a bit of a statement of intent. ‘This is where I want to be, this is the space I want to move into.’ But I'm aware that's a transition as well. I wasn't going to put ten ‘Kill my Minds’ on the album, because I don't think that would've been right.”

Don’t Let It Break Your Heart

“Straightway, that chorus reminds me of a big One Direction song. It's got that big, great, hopefully hooky chorus. In terms of concept, it almost sits in the same world as the Steve Aoki song I did, 'Just Hold On'. It's just one of those songs that's trying to promote hope regardless of what life throws at you.”

Two of Us

“I wasn't ready to write that song. The original lyric on the verse was ‘So I'll leave a message after the tone.’ And it always f**king bugs me, listening to it, because there's so much beauty in that song. Then I changed it to ‘So I'm not alone’, and I think that really captures the weight, emotionally, of the song. And that song is probably the most special song that I've ever written.”

We Made It

“I wrote ‘We Made It’ about three years ago, so I had about 20 different mixes. That took a second to get right, and we made it. Listen, I like the song, I like the song. Would I say it's one of my favourites? No, probably not. It was one of the record label’s favourites. So I kind of rolled the dice on that one, really. The strive for authenticity is a constant battle. That's something that I have to be strong on, as often as I can.”

Too Young

“I can remember that feeling of being 18 and meeting the person that you might spend the rest of your life with. We all made mistakes when we're younger, and I just wanted to capture that idea of true honesty. Look, I wasn't ready for that responsibility. And now I reflect, and I'm older, and I can look back with experience. I can see why that was wrong. But at the time, there's a lot of 18-year-olds—especially 18-year-old lads—they're not ready for that responsibility. I wanted to capture that.”

Walls

“We had an amazing moment for this song in London. I went down to record some live strings for ‘Walls’—that was a real f**king breakout moment for me, because there's been times on this album where I've been pretty frustrated and it's been hard to keep with the get-up-and-go because the creative process can get frustrating. But I had this moment, in this massive, amazing studio in London called Angel Studios, watching—I don't know how many people were there, but let's speculate 15, 18 people there for my song. I feel like the live strings on it really give it an extra edge of credibility.”

Habit

“It's got quite a storytelling lyric that I know hardcore One Direction fans will like: There's a line about the place that we all grew up with in the band, and that was an apartment complex called Princess Park. It's like an Easter egg for fans. I'm sure they'll like that.”

Always You

“It’s autobiographical, me making that realisation that it's always been that one person and that no matter what you do or what you see, you miss that person.”

Fearless

“What I wanted to try and capture with the song is the idea of feeling youthful and how important that is. I'm at this age where I'm on the cusp—I'm definitely not a teenager, I'm not a young lad anymore, nor am I old, but I sit in this space where I'm aware of my age now. I hear it as a playground or going back to real youth.”

Perfect Now

“I worked on this with Jamie Scott, who was part of the One Direction writing team. Lyrically, it's kind of an extension of ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, One Direction's first single. It was written quite deliberately as an attempt to write a fan favourite song. There is a long history of people coming out of bands and then talking s**t about that band. I absolutely f**king love One Direction. I love the music. I love the music that we made, the fans, the culture, and everything behind it. There are songs like ‘Kill My Mind’ and ‘Walls’ where I’m trying something different, but of course there’s always room for those [1D-like] songs on the album.”

Defenceless

“I’m trying to be vulnerable and I’m trying to be honest. I’m trying to write as many different feelings as I can. One day you might be feeling great, youthful and amazing, and the next day you might be feeling a little bit down in the dumps. I wanted to capture that.”

Only the Brave

“The crackly sound goes way beyond my production comprehension. The way the guitar was recorded, I don’t know. But what I love about that song is that it feels classic, like going back in time. It’s one of my favourite songs because it doesn’t have a traditional structure. You only really get the chorus once. You haven’t heard a song like that the whole record, and then you get it at the end. There’s something interesting about that.”

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 12: Walter and Louis

Ao3

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Ja,” Otto’s blue eyes sparkled from behind his glasses, telltale golden glimmer flickering just below the surface “I would not waste your time for anything less, Grand Commandant,”

Strickler detected the hint of a tease in Otto’s voice but chose to let it go, the square of vellum laid out on his desk occupying far more of his attention. Had he been a few centuries younger his hand might have shook as he traced the half faded lines of ink.

With this final piece; everything they’d been working for, himself, Otto, the entire order, was now within reach.

“Excellent,” he slid the vellum back towards Otto “I’ll need you on a plane to Mongolia immediately,”

Otto’s face fell, mouth shifting to form a protest.

“The eyestone is perhaps the most crucial piece of the bridge, I need someone I know is not only competent, but highly capable, to retrieve it. And you will have the full resources of the Janus order at your disposal,”

A touch thick with the flattery, and more than a little extravagant; but the order could afford it. Especially since if Otto’s information was true Kilahead would be complete in less than a year. And Strickler felt reasonably confident that there would be little use for company shares and bond holdings once Gunmar reclaimed the surface.

Otto sat back, mollified for now “I will fly out tonight, with any luck I should be able to rendezvous with the Ulaanbaatar branch tomorrow evening, of course planning the expedition will take time. We are certain of the eyestone’s presence, but narrowing down its precise location won’t be--”

“Mr. Strickler?”

Neither of them flinched, far too experienced in the game for that, merely turned and sculpted their features to show appropriate levels of surprise and curiosity while Otto discreetly slid the vellum off the desk and back into his bag.

Tobias Domzalski hesitantly peeked in through the office door “Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later,”

“Nein,” Otto got to his feet “I was just leaving,”

“Oh, uh...ok,”

Toby stepped aside and let Otto pass, turning to watch him retreat down the hall with a look of piqued interest on his face.

“Mr. Domzalski?”

The boy snapped back to attention “Oh, uh sorry…..was that a friend of yours?”

“Oh yes, Otto and I go way back,” Strickler gestured for Toby to take a seat at the piano stool across from his desk that Otto had been occupying until just recently “He was just dropping by before heading off to a dig overseas, now what was it you needed?”

Toby sunk onto the stool, face flushed crimson “...am I that obvious?”

Strickler made sure the smile he gave him was only slightly patronizing “When you’ve been doing this as long as I have you get good at spotting these things, but it does look like you have something on your mind. Now what can I do for you?”

“It’s not for me-- and I don’t mean it’s about a friend of a friend that’s secretly me, I mean--” he cut off his babbling with a sharp intake of breath “It’s about Jim,”

Strickler raised an eyebrow “I applaud you for looking out for your friend’s grade point average, but if Jim is struggling in class it would be better if he comes and sees me himself,”

“Not...not help like that,” 

His curiosity about Toby’s presence deepened into concern as he saw him shrink further in on himself, a shadow of the outgoing, slightly foolhardy boy he was used to “Jim’s having problems at home,”

The tightening of his fingers around his fountain pen was the only outward sign of the profound shock Strickler felt at that moment.

Problems at home. 

The words every teacher dreads hearing.

Strickler pulled himself up straighter and leaned forward ever so slightly, filing all thoughts of Kilahead into the back of his mind to focus entirely on the matter at hand “What sort of problems at home?”

“His mom-- his mom…” he choked, the words almost seeming to physically pain him.

Strickler sat at attention and said nothing, waiting patiently. It might be difficult for him to voice this knowledge, but Toby would unburden himself in his own time. 

“His mom locks him in the basement,” Toby said at last, voice cracking towards the end.

For the first time this afternoon the surprise on Strickler’s face was more genuine than not “What?”

He’d been occupying his cover as an educator for a few centuries now, and was fully cognizant of the things that could happen to his students behind closed doors, but rarely was it brought up so bluntly.

“Throws him in the basement and ties the door shut,” his tone took on a heavy darkness “I know because Jim basically admitted it, plus there are the photos,”

“Photos?”

Wordlessly, Toby took out his phone and taped the screen a few times before holding it out towards Strickler. He took the offered device and started thumbing through the gallery.

What he saw painted a very grim picture indeed.

And being experienced as he was, Strickler had a good feeling that he already knew the answer to his next question, but he had to ask it all the same “I agree that these photos are rather...damning, but you also said Jim also admitted this was taking place, may I ask why you’re here and he is not?”

If Toby had been punched in the stomach at that exact moment his expression would have been identical “Because ten seconds after admitting it he started denying it,”

He suspected something like this might be the case, but that didn’t mean he was happy about being right.

 Strickler netted his fingers and let out a measured sigh “I can see why this would be difficult for you,”

“I-- it’s just…we said we’d help him, and he has to know this isn’t ok, so why would he…” Toby trailed off, voice thick with emotion and the beginnings of tears.

He could quite keep the tired look off his face as he watched Toby hunch over and start to tremble, pondering the best way to respond.

There were dozens of potential answers to that question, none of them good. Fear of retaliation, misguided loyalty, twisted sense of familial obligation. Strickler settled on the one that would make the most sense given what he knew about the situation. 

“Because it’s all he’s ever known,” 

Toby looked up at him, eyes brimming.

Strickler leaned forward, voice as gentle as gauze “I don’t want to comment on something I know so little about, but when a person spends their whole life believing certain behaviors are normal, it can be difficult for them to recognize when they truly need help,”

“Yeah,” Toby said darkly “I can get that,”

It was at that moment Strickler remembered precisely how long Jim and Toby had known each other.

“Tobias, Jim’s situation is not your fault,”

“Oh yes it is!” Toby snapped at him with a surprising amount of force “I’ve known Jim for over a decade-- we’ve been in every class together since kindergarten! How could I not…”

He trailed off, last few words closer to sobs.

Strickler stood up from his desk and walked over to kneel down and look Toby in the eye “Because you were just a child yourself, because your friend’s safety should never have been your responsibility,”

“But it-- it--,” he hiccupped out the words, clearly trying desperately not to cry “It shouldn’t have taken me this long to notice!”

Tense silence filled Strickler’s office. He remained steadfast and unflinching from his position besides Toby for a few moments before speaking up again.

“Maybe the best time to come forward was ten years ago, but the second best time is now,”

Toby sniffled and raised his head to look him in the eye.

“It might have taken you a while to see these things, but the instant you realized what was going on with Jim you went to get him help. That’s all anyone can do, and is considerably more than what most chose to do,”

Strickler had been through this particular song and dance before, and he wasn’t so naive to believe that his words alone had the power to cure Toby of the raging storm of conflicted, contradictory emotions inside him, but seeing the boy wipe away his tears and hold himself just a little straighter, he knew that they’d helped somewhat.

Situation better in hand now, Strickler walked back around to sit at his desk “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, if you can email me those photos I will pass them, along with everything you’ve told me, down to the right people and make sure Jim’s situation is thoroughly investigated,”

He paused, debating whether this last inclusion would be welcome or not “If you want to help Jim in the meantime, the best way is to try to stay close to him. I know it might be hard, but he’s going to need a friend more than anything in the coming weeks,”

“Ok...I’ll try,”

“Now, are you alright to go to your next class or do you need a moment?”

“I’ll-- I’ll email you the pictures, then I think I’m gonna….take five...for a little bit,” Toby said while pulling up his phone and not so discreetly rubbing his eyes.

Strickler nodded at him in acknowledgement while pulling out his laptop and searching his contacts for an email address he only used in the most dire of circumstances. 

This situation should be followed up to the letter. It would take up more of his time than he’d prefer while also supervising the acquisition of the last few bridge pieces, but he couldn’t afford to do anything less. Kilahead may be nearing completion, but that was no reason to let his cover slack. If anything now more than ever it was important to maintain the facade. This close to the end any slip ups could undo centuries of hard work.

When he heard Toby sniffle again, Strickler very deliberately did not look up.

And although he would never admit as much, Strickler did feel somewhat sentimental towards his students. He prefered that they be allowed to enjoy the last few months of the world as they knew it in as much safety and comfort as possible.

Once Gunmar returned, any semblance of safety and comfort would vanish from their lives.

Still...these types of investigation proved to be tedious and lengthy even at the best of times. Extending from now to the bridge’s completion was certainly a possibility

Perhaps if the situation was severe enough to warrant it he could arrange a late parent teacher conference on one of the nights Bular was due to pay him a visit….

Strickler had to stop a small chuckle from escaping his lips.

Pale lady forgive him, he really was going soft.

*

Louis muttered an ugly curse as his keys fell to the floor with a clatter. Dammit that was the third time this week he’d dropped his keychain while trying to hang it up. Were his reflexes starting to go or were the ten hour shifts just that draining?

Biting back a blue streak, he picked up and rehung his keys before slipping his shoes off and stepping into the front hall.

“Darci, you home?” he called out while continuing on to the living room “Dinner’s in the crockpot,”

Glancing around, Louis stopped in his tracks when he saw that Darci was indeed at home and sitting on the couch, her friends Mary and Claire sitting on either side of her. Normally this wouldn’t be any cause for concern, the three were practically joined at the hip, but their tensed shoulders and worried frowns told a different story. 

“What happened, is everything ok?”

Darci briefly looked up and met his eyes, before tearing her gaze away with a grimace “No...not really,”

His hands tightened into fists “Who was it, who’s bothering you?” whatever punk out there that had dared upset his little girl was going to have Detective Louis Scott bring the wrath of god down on his scrawny--

“But not with me,” she looked from side to side “Or any of us,”

Just like that the wind was out of his sails “Oh,” calmer now, he stepped over and sank onto the easy chair across from them “Ok, then who?”

Her face twisted into a deep wince, Claire reaching up to put a comforting arm around her and picking up where she left off “You remember Jim, right Mr. Scott?”

Louis raised an eyebrow “Yes?”

He certainly remembered Darci and her friends spending a lot of time with two new boys almost immediately after starting high school. To say the least, he hadn’t exactly been thrilled, but didn’t try to interfere. Boys were a fact of life, and Darci was going to spend time with them whether he liked it or not. And he’d heard plenty of cautionary tales from other fathers about what happened when they hung on to their daughters too tightly. Besides, Darci had never given him any reason not to trust her judgement so Louis saw no reason to start now. So he made it his policy to let Darci spend her time how she wanted and with who she wanted, within reason of course. And on more than one occasion he had sat her down to discuss what kind of behaviors in other people were red flags and made it crystal clear that she could always go to him for advice and help. But for the most part he left her to her own devices, even when it set his nerves on edge to do so. After all, he very well couldn’t spend her whole life chasing away boys with a baseball bat. 

But he’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t tempt him from time to time.

“Ok…What about Jim?”

Claire went gaunt and silent, Darci worked her jaw, struggling to get the words out “I-- it’s…”

“His mom locks him in the basement,” Mary blurted out for her.

For a moment Louis didn’t know how to react, as a member of law enforcement and a mandated reporter, he consciously knew that if any of his friends or acquaintances wanted to report abuse of any kind he’d be the first person they’d go to. Better to talk to someone they already knew and trusted than a faceless government entity that may or may not actually take them seriously.

But knowing didn’t prepare him for when it actually happened. When his daughter came to him and said one of her friends was in trouble. He’d met Jim on a few occasions, seen Dr. Lake in passing and spoken on the phone with her frequently. He seemed like an ok kid, she seemed like a nice enough woman, neither of them ever gave off any signs that something sinister was lurking beneath the surface.

Of course if this kind of thing was easy to spot there wouldn’t be a need for detectives in the world. 

He started mentally filing through the policies and procedures drilled into his skull “Did Jim tell you this himself or did you see something?”

They all shared an uncertain look, the silence continuing on for a few seconds before Mary spoke up again.

“We...saw something,”

“What kind of something?”

Darci shook off her discomfort first and pulled out her phone “Here,” she tapped at the screen a few times and held it out to him “We took these at Jim’s house, it’s his basement door,”

Louis took the offered device and examined the screen. Going by the fact that they claimed Jim’s mother was locking him in the basement, and that Darci said these were pictures of his basement door...even before he’d looked at the photos, Louis already had a good idea of what he would see. 

Unfortunately he was right.

He shut his eyes and pulled in a deep breath, using years of practice to compartmentalize the mental image of daughter’s friend and the pictures he’d just seen “You did the right thing by coming to me,” he opened his eyes and looked back towards her “Now do you have any reason to believe that Jim is in immediate danger?”

She shook her head “No,”

“Can you describe how Jim and his mother interact?”

The girls took a second to ponder over the question “We don’t really see much of Dr. Lake,” Claire admitted “She’s at work a lot, and we don’t really hang out at his house much,”

“They always seemed...normal,” Darci said slowly “But...there was that one time we were late coming back from the movies she was acting weird,”

He leaned forward ever so slightly “Weird how?”

“It was past Jim’s curfew and he panicked and rushed home really quick, when he got inside his mom wouldn’t let us come in and see him,”

Realization dawned on Mary’s face even before she spoke up “Wait a second, doesn’t she always chase us out the door pretty early on?”

“Yeah that’s right,” Claire said, Mary’s epiphany catching “She doesn’t like us hanging out there past his curfew,”

“Plus his curfew is crazy early,” Darci added “Like four o clock or something,”

“And he doesn’t do sleepovers, either going or having,” Mary added.

Sounds like Dr. Lake didn’t like Jim staying out and didn’t like his friends staying over. Could be run of the mill controlling or something worse. Too soon to tell.

“Aside from locking him in the basement, have any of you noticed any indication that his mother might be violent with him?”

“No,”

“Have any of you confirmed with Jim that he made these marks when he was locked in the basement and that they weren’t caused by something else?“ 

He saw the mixture of shock, hurt, and indignation fly across their faces and held up a hand “Not that I don’t believe you, I believe you girls one hundred percent, but when going forward into an investigation like this it’s important that all evidence is corroborated and accounted for,”

None of them responded right away. Darci and Claire looking flustered while Mary blushed scarlet before looking down and away.

Thanks to his experience in interrogations Louis had a pretty good idea why the three of them looked so guilty. They’d already tried confronting him and it had gone badly. Well nothing to do about that now.

“We...asked him,” Darci said at last “He didn’t say anything at first, but we could tell by the way he reacted that it was true,”

Louis nodded at that “Ok,”

“And then….” she swallowed deeply “I don’t think he meant to, but he said that his mom hasn’t put him down there since he was seven, and then he started saying that if we told anyone he would deny it,”

By the time she finished speaking her voice was tight and small.

Louis gripped the armrests to anchor himself, the fact that their friend was backpedalling to cover his mother and that he’d allegedly been locked in the basement since before he was seven years old weren’t the worst things he’d seen in his career, didn’t even make the top ten. But it was hard knowing that it had been his daughter’s friend, a boy he’d seen and spoken with on more than a few occasions, that stung.

And seven years old….Jesus, no kid deserved that.

“Thank you for coming to me with this girls, I’m going to pass this information along and make sure an investigation is started with CPS,”

Darci nodded “Thanks dad,”

He pushed himself up straighter “Now I know the way your friend acted must have seemed very confusing,”

The trio nodded.

“I don’t want to make any assumptions about his home life, but I do know that when someone grows up in an abusive household, it really skews what they consider normal. I’ve known a lot of people that grew up with in dysfunctional families but didn’t even realize it until they were in their forties,”

He had to be really careful not to put his foot in his mouth for this next part “And the relationship between a child an abusive family member can be...complicated,” he raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent the tension headache he felt coming on “Things with them are rarely all bad all the time, most often there’s just enough good to keep the victim coming back,”

Too close to assumption territory, needed to bring this back on track.

“Regardless of what’s going on at home, Jim might try to do everything he can to protect his mother, even when he shouldn’t,”

Now for the tricky part.

He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees “But in the meantime, you’re still going to be seeing Jim at school, right?” 

The trio shared uncertain looks before Darci turned back towards him “Yeah?”

“If you can it would be good to try and apologise for trying to force him to come forward so you can keep in communication,” 

The three of them were stunned, as he’d expected, but this was something it looked like they’d have to learn sooner rather than later.

Darci was particularly taken aback “But we didn’t….”

Louis crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and gave her a look that he’d honed to perfection over fourteen years of parenting.

She trailed off, all of them fidgeting uncomfortably.

“I guess we were kind of...pushy,” Claire said while nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s ok, you didn’t know any better,” he let out a deep breath “Once I make the call and get the ball rolling things are going to get pretty hectic for him,” 

He slowly turned his head looking at each of them in turn “Going forward keeping the lines of communication open is important, especially if things start going south for him at home. The best way to help is to just continue being his friends and to stop trying to get him to turn on his mother,”

“So wait…” Mary sounded confused “You want us to just ignore the fact his mom locks him in the basement and pretend like everything’s normal?”

“Not….quite,” Louis sat back with a grimace “For whatever reason your friend clearly isn’t ready to come forward with this, so the best thing to do is be supportive in any other way you can,”

“Now,” he netted his hands together “You girls should not ignore any signs that further abuse is taking place, whether it’s something you see or something Jim says. But if he’s made it clear that he’s willing to outright lie, pushing him would do more harm than good. So if you ever do suspect anything else is happening, don’t confront him, but try and document it in any way you can and bring it to me,”

Louis let out a deep breath, knowing the worst part of this converstaion was about to come “In child abuse investigations not a lot happens right away. It often involves observing behavior patterns over a long period of time,” he steeled himself before he said the part he knew was going to break their hearts “And it’s more common than anyone would like to admit that not much comes of them,”

His chest tightened looking at their stricken faces, but he pushed forward.

“Which is why it’s so crucial to try and maintain your relationship with him, even if whatever investigation we start now doesn’t pan out to anything, if you stay on friendly terms, then you can still help him months, maybe even years down the line, do you understand all that?”

Darci’s looked crushed, expression barely concealing the horror he knew she must be feeling, and mirrored by both of her friends, but she responded all the same “Ok Dad,”

The other two girls forced themselves to reply as well. 

“Got it,”

“Will do Mr. Scott,”

He looked over them carefully “So are you girls all doing ok?”

“Yep,”

“Yes,”

“Uh huh,”

“Good, and I promise I’m going to file all this first thing tomorrow,” he glanced at his watch “It’s getting late; Claire, Mary, we’re going to eat pretty soon, care to join us?”

Both girls shook their heads “No thanks,” Claire said “My mom’s expecting me back for dinner,” 

“Do either of you need a ride?”

“It’s ok,” Mary added “We came here on our bikes so we can get home in plenty of time,”

“Alright, but don’t feel rushed, you two can stay here as long as you like,”

The two glanced at Darci, who gave her head a single shake.

“Actually we should really get going,” Claire stood up, pulling Mary up alongside her “Thanks again Mr. Scott,”

“Anytime girls, and I mean it,”

They turned back just long enough to wave and headed out the door, leaving just the two Scotts inside.

“You sure you’re doing ok pumpkin?”

“Dad I’m fine,” she forced the words out through one of the fakest smiled he’d ever seen “I’m just glad that Jim is going to get some help,”

“Well just remember, I’m always available whenever you aren’t fine. Even if you do something stupid like breaking and entering, I promise I’ll be more supportive than mad,”

She rolled her eyes “Da-ad! Just because you broke into the old vespa factory when you were in high school doesn’t mean everyone does!”

He chuckled “I know, but humor your old man, and go set the table while you’re at it, I’m getting hungry,”

Darci let out an impressively loud groan before getting up and obediently heading to the kitchen.

Louis watched her go, smile dropping off his face as she vanished from sight.

Part of him wanted to leap on what was clearly Darci pretending to be better than she felt, but he stopped himself. He had made it clear that he was available, now it was on her to reach out when she was ready.

He’d done his best to prepare her and her friends for some of the hard realities of this situation, but there were some things he hoped they never had to learn.

Louis had seen more than a few domestic abuse cases cross his desk. And on two occasions he had seen with his own two eyes just how ugly the endings to these cases could be.

He hoped to god this wasn’t going to turn into number three.

[comebackassholes]

I read a lot more fics than I expected to this year, but they were all great. I’ve talked and yelled about so many of them during my short lived podcast, but I want to highlight some of my favorites of 2019. This list includes Stucky (under the read more), which I’ve recently discovered and have fallen into that rabbit hole :)

Larry

💫  Shine On (You Crazy Diamond) by @larrymaybe22  The year is 1974 and Britain’s glam rock scene is in full swing. Enter Louis, a broke and dejected student who finds himself on a tour bus of all places, working as a roadie for the enigmatic “womanizer” Harry Styles. Along the way, Louis discovers the cruelty of fame and that maybe there is more than meets the eye beyond the curls, cocaine, and crazy suits. 💫  Meet Me in Montauk by  make_this_feel_like_home  The one where Harry has amnesia, Louis can't handle the pain and Lacuna Inc provides a unique service: the ability to erase a person from your memories.  💫  Consequences by @allwaswell16​ Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.  💫  Ambient Girls by @tinyreindeerlouis​ Or the one where Louis and Harry fall in love under the stars. 💫  Counterbalance by @louandhazaf  Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.  💫  Face Your Fears by @sadaveniren  Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.  💫  (Something’s Been) Hiding In My Heart by @lululawrence​ Or a Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs. 💫  all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie  a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.  💫  Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics  As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.  💫 we should open up (before it's all too much) by @disgruntledkittenface​ Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.Then he meets Louis. 💫 Tied to Fate by @littlelouishiccups​ After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him. 💫 No Bunny But You by @crinkle-eyed-boo​ A slow Monday night behind the bar turns into something else entirely thanks to a new mural and a new customer. 💫 Tell Me This Is Paradise by @becomeawendybird​ Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.  💫 Leave Your Mark On Me by @kingsofeverything​ When Chef Harry Styles’ unbonded Omega designation threatens to derail his career, he does the only thing he can, and goes in search of a black market bond.

Stucky

Most of these weren’t written this year, but they’re my favorites I’ve read so far. (I’ve been in a bdsm trope mood lately and these authors are amazing.)

💫  we are the things that we do for fun by Nonymos Going to a professional Dom may be one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever done. Especially since this skinny Steve Rogers guy doesn’t really look the part. But hey, they might just find a way to make this work. 💫  Where There's Smoke by lambchop33 Steve is a Brooklyn firefighter who is about to be saddled with a new, rookie crewmate. James Barnes is that rookie, just looking for a fresh start at a new station. Steve's friends think they know what's best for him...start dating his new crewmate. Steve thinks they're crazy...or possibly right. But events from James's recent past may pose a threat to any designs they have on each other. 💫  G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again. And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living. 💫  Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain  Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they're never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event" 💫  After Hours by OhCaptainMyCaptain  Steve wishes Bucky wouldn’t look at him the way he does – a deliberate gaze, subtly digging his top teeth into that pouty bottom lip; following his every move like a lion watches a gazelle. It’s been going on for months, perhaps longer... Steve talks, and Bucky listens. Well, that’s the point – Bucky’s supposed to be listening. Steve’s just doing his job, after all… No harm in that. 💫  Collar Full of Chemistry by 2bestfriends  Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts. Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better. 💫  Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Kellyscams  Steve's just moved back to Brooklyn after spending ten years in California trying to make a life for himself as an artist right after high school. Having escaped to the other side of the country following the sudden death of his mother, Steve feels guilty about abruptly leaving all his friends for so long, unfulfilled, scared and nervous about started college at his age, and unbelievably lonely. So when he meets Bucky Barnes, a young sex-worker, at a bar the night before his first day of classes, temptations might be too high to resist. One night paying for sex with the most sinfully gorgeous guy is nothing to brag to the papers about, huh? S'not like he'll ever see him again anyway......Right?

[thisiskatsblog]

Lgbt Larries weren’t driven out Kat, they were driven to Harry. It’s still happening. You asked what’s happened to Larries since GBA. We stopped questioning once solo Harry launched and especially when it became clear Louis was paying the price. He still is but Larries don’t care about anything but Larry which means they can’t afford to back RL Louis. Now you’re afraid to look anything in the eye because it’s going to hurt. That’s what’s happened to Larries. It’s hard remembering the glory days.

- How did that video drive any LGBTQ+ Larry to Harry I wonder... ? I mean, I agree they deliberately allowed some “LBGT” mist to hang over Harry but the Larries? No way. All these fucking Xander anons tell a different story. What they did is try to make us believe they broke up and dangle a rainbow carrot - but anyone who didn’t buy the breakup? “Believe the breakup! Harry was with Xander/Camille/is bi”; “do you love LGBTQ+? what are you fucking doing with Louis he doesn’t support LGBTQ+ he’s a homophobe” - yes I have been subject to all of this, but it’s deliberately NOT accepting Larries. Harry is still closeted, allowed to look bi, nonbinary, but not allowed to look gay, or be seen to be with Louis.  And I have also gotten loads of of “you should hate Harry for what he’s done to Louis”, “you’re not really supporting Louis if you still love Harry”. Again, saying that you are only really supportive of “RL Louis” as you say, if you don’t buy Larry anymore. People are being divided, Larries are being deligitimized, and driven out. Something with the Larry thing is very threatening to someone. It’s try make them believe they were wrong, if that doesn’t work divide, but in any case do everything you can to conquer. And it didn’t work, because, again, as I see it, Louis’ fandom is full of people who are still convinced that Louis and Harry are together. 

- I didn’t ask what happened to Larries since GBA - that’s a projection of your thoughts. I was literally asking “what the fuck happened to us in fall 2014?”. I don’t consider GBA the glory days, I knew it was a plant and it felt like one big mindfuck. Hence the question: “what the fuck was that?”. I am complaining of the mindfucking tactics that were used at that specific time, not of the current state of the fandom - even if I agree that that also leaves things to be desired, and it’s still a mindfuck.  

- I have a feeling when you say “we”, you don’t really mean “we” or to include yourself in that... , which is clear as you quickly move to “you” where you start to make accusations. 

- It’s clear that there are strong dividing forces at work in the fandom, but honestly, anon, you are making yourself part of them by insisting that it’s black or white, Louis or Harry, and when you believe they are still together it’s really Harry and not really Louis, not RL Louis. Your underlying assumption is that Harry is to blame for all the difficulties Louis is facing, and I simply don’t see why that would be true. 

I am very, very strongly convinced they are still together - I simply don’t know when they would have broken up.

I am also very strongly convinced that Louis had made his choices to the best of his knowledge and ability, and I support him in these choices

I am further absolutely adamant that there are plenty of Larries who support Louis from the bottom of their hearts. Who see his challenges, who see what Syco’s hold over 1D has cost him, and who will support him whatever it takes.

They simply don’t blame Harry for any of this. 

I am really not too blind to see that Harry is getting more support, that Harry was lined up as the solo star ever since 1D times, that Harry’s rainbowfriendly marketing rode on the coattails of Rainbow Direction, while Louis was actually the first to support that, and got harshly admonished for doing so in the end. 

Is that fair? Fuck no. 

Is that Harry’s fault? I don’t think so. 

The power is, and always was, with the label, and the management. We do not know the limited choices they had. Harry is and never was in a position to “give” Louis a record contract on the exact same terms as his own. 

I trust that they negotiated the best deal for both of them that they could. And that this deal is shittier for Louis than it is for Harry probably has to do with a large number of things, including marketability, where record execs clearly believe more in Harry, and also - painful to look in the eye but it needs to be said - past choices. When Louis sings “I’m sorry that I gave into the pressure” I believe he means it - he is seriously not the kind to apologize if it’s not sincere. That said, the pressure is the thing that’s wrong about all this, they shouldn’t have put that pressure on them when they were so young,  and I have to say I was very relieved to know he says that too, meaning he knows not to blame himself even if he apologizes - cause none of this is his fault. And so that is what I think Louis’ life and choices are: being given an unfair set of options, with which he is doing the best he can. And, admirably, he is not blaming Harry for being offered better options. 

A story from my personal life anon. I am a smart kid, I studied hard, I did everything I needed to, and I wrote a PhD. My brother is also smart, he also studied hard, he did everything he needed to and wrote a PhD. My brother is a professor. And I am a woman, and I am not. Does that make me hate my brother? No. Do I think my brother should not have taken that position? Fuck no. Because at every step of the way, he recognized that he had privilege that I didn’t have. He knows me. He knows my talents. And he could see it wasn’t fair. If I am mentally healthy today, it’s because he always validated and supported me. His support and his belief in me helped me “let go” of my dream to make it in academia. If we had been in the same field or he could have done anything, he would have. But he was not in such a position. All of his PhD students are women, and he fights for them and their options. He does what he can with the privilege he knows he has.

I am not saying Louis needs to let go of his dreams. The opposite. He was given a shot, and he is not throwing it away, and when I see him taking it, it makes me very very happy. 

I am saying that, yes, I know from experience, it can be incredibly bitter, and painful to see someone you grew up with, who you consider your equal, who considers you their equal, unfairly being given chances while you are being slandered and nullified. Trust me, my experience was horrendous and the person who barred me from academia comparable to the likes of Simon Cowell. If I had two silver bullets... well I wouldn’t waste them on these two irrelevant nobodies, Trump and Putin (or that Chinese guy) are really the bigger problems here, the two others can both go and die as people no one will remember for anything of consequence. 

But back to my point: if you really love that person, it will be a bitter pill to swallow, but you will not hate them for it. If they love you, they will support you, and that in itself will validate you, and you will support them, and you will make them aware, and they will use their position to the best of their ability. I am confident that Harry supports Louis to the best of his ability, and I think that people who see that differently, may, perhaps, be overestimating his power, and/or overestimating their knowledge about what happened behind the scenes. 

All of that said, back to the video: I am also confident that Harry wants to support women and his LGBTQ+ fans in particular-  what he did with that video yesterday was NOT revolutionary, and was really not using his position to the best of his ability to empower any woman here, wlw or other . Everyone has blind spots, and he hit one there - even if, overall, I am still confident he wants to support women, and his LGBTQ+ fans, and that, therefore, we can expect better of him in the future. 

Sometimes things are black & white - but a lot of the time they are grey. You can love two people at the same time, even if they have different and sometimes conflicting interests. Two people who have different and sometimes conflicting interests can still love eachother and work through that and live with that in some way. One person can do things that conflict with other things they do or stand for, and that doesn’t mean they are a bad person. Living with that “greyness”, with that “conflict”, is a great challenge, but it’s a good thing to learn to do, and one of the reasons why I admire Louis so much, is for his ability to be so genuine,  to connect with his audience, to come across as very authentic, despite all the conflict that’s been created between who  he is and his values, and his public image, and despite the conflict between the adversities in his life, and what his career demands. I hope we can all take that as an example. 

[gulfportofficial]

Anyway, here’s some more WIP GP (I think some of you may have seen bits of this before? I told you it was taking me forever).

I loved how he looked when he woke up. Cranky and rumpled and soft all at the same time, his black hair messy and his skin warm from the bedclothes. It seemed to take him a minute or two to hear me well enough to respond to me. How human he was, still, that even now with his impossible strength, he woke up groggy. I climbed onto the bed, and then onto him, and kissed him on the mouth.

He smiled against it. He put his arms around me. “Has the paper come?”

Typical, I thought of saying, but did not. I wasn’t really annoyed by it. That clever little occupation of his, that too, was part of his sweetness too. “Yes,” I said, “and I’ve got the Picayune.”

Louis shuffled up and arranged his pillows fussily, so he could lean back onto them. “You’re very good to me,” he said. “Was it a nice walk?”

“Entirely uneventful,” I said. “Kiss me again and I’ll let you read your papers.”

He did. “Will you tell me the shape of the evening so that I know how long I have to read them?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did your mother mention what time she was arriving? Do we need to go out before she comes?” he asked. “I don’t mind doing that.”

It would be entirely wrong to say that I had forgotten she was coming. I had thought about nothing else since her call. I had thought about it in my sleep and upon waking and during my walk and while he was kissing me. But I thought about it so hard it didn’t seem to be present in my real life. I swallowed, and Louis looked at me strangely.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She might want to go out together.” “It’s a shame you just can’t call her to check,” Louis said.

I didn’t bother to answer that. Such a pointless dig. Was that the shape of the evening then, something structured by Louis’ painful and barbed asides catching at my flesh? I rolled off him and fished out my laptop computer. I took my notebook and glasses from the bedside table. He didn’t comment.

There wasn’t much for me to attend to on the internet. A few emails. Facebook nonsense. I had been tagged in some photographs and proceeded to vet them. I do like candid photographs, but there are limits.

Louis had picked up the Press-Register. “Why don’t we go out just in case,” he said. “If she wants to, we can go again.”

I don’t think he was thinking this through. As a general rule, we do not hunt so close to where we live, unless we can truly be sure it is a little drink only and nothing more. We didn’t have time to go far enough afield. At least I felt we didn’t have time. He was right that I couldn’t call to check.

“You go,” I said. “I’ll wait.”

“That’s alright. If you want to wait, we’ll wait. I’ll survive.”

“Won’t it drive you mad?” I said. I’d opened up my Notes document and begin to transcribe.

“You forget to whom it is you’re speaking,” Louis said, and I was about to tell him off, but he was right. Anyone who could live on rats for as long as he had could skip a night. Just one though, allowing for the precedent of the consequences of his doing that.

“How’s the Gulf?” I asked, deliberately.

Louis gave me a look, but it worked, as I knew it would. “Thad Allen’s leaving,” he said.

“I don’t know who that is.”

“The Coastguard National Incident Commander. He actually stepped down moths ago but…”

I sighed. “Unlike you, Louis, I have better things to do than read everything about the fucking oil spill, so obviously I don’t know what that is either. When you tell a story like this you must structure in a referent or two so I am able to orient myself.”

I regretted saying that. I regretted saying anything that could stop him from focusing on the spill instead of my mother. “It’s called glossing,” I said, hastily. “One should gloss.”

I wonder if he took pity on me then, because he went on with only the slightest air of annoyance. “Admiral Allen,” Louis said, “is a Coast Guard official and the man appointed by President Obama to oversee responses to the disaster. He has a most distinguished career, actually, and…”

“What did he do?”

“Many things, but…”

“No, I mean, why is he stepping down? What did he do? Did he get caught taking a bribe or something else scandalous?”

“I think he’s just retiring.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s dull.”

“He’s responsible for most of the online mapping.”

“The what?”

“I showed you,” Louis said. “The computer map of the spill and how it was spreading. On the internet. That was his idea, to make that map public.”  

“Oh yes, I remember,” I said. I didn’t. I was bored with the internet now anyway. I hopped out of bed, and started to flick through my wardrobe. I’d shower and dress, I felt better equipped to face the evening showered and dressed. I felt the need to cement things with a lot of ritual. Prayer. I thought I might do something to my face and slipped into the bathroom.

“What’s that on your face?” Louis asked when I slipped out. “Supernatural late stage leprosy?”

“Shut up,” I said, then I read off the jar for him, “it’s a Green Clay Masque with Rice Enzyme.”

Louis opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. I supposed I knew what it was – you don’t need that, it will have absolutely no effect on you – but I wondered why he decided not to lecture me. Perhaps he couldn’t be bothered.

He could think what he liked anyway. I felt the stuff drying on my face and I liked the sensation of it, it felt redeeming in some manner. I set the jar down and sat back on the bed and pulled out my laptop again. Nothing on Facebook had changed and it was all still boring. I trawled through it anyway. One feels obligated, or else compulsion. That,too, is like a naturalized little prayer against disaster.

Louis ran a gentle, distracted-seeming hand up and down on my back as I did. “My mother…” he said. I looked up.

I wasn’t sure if he’d trailed off out of discomfort, or simply because he didn’t intend to keep speaking. “What, Louis?”

“When my brother died…” Louis said, and that was surprising enough that I had to actually turn around to look at him. He never spoke about this. Never. And it didn’t precisely seem buried, not on his face now, nor in the fact that he’d stuttered himself out of speaking. Once turned around I held perfectly still.

He began again. “When my brother died,” Louis said, “well, you probably remember my telling you this, but we’d argued. Almost immediately before. Moments before. And my mother blamed me.”

“That’s not kind,” I said. “And it’s not true. Brothers exchange harsh words sometimes.”

“No, you’ve misunderstood,” Louis said. “I mean that she believed I’d committed the act. She asked the police to question me.”

Oh, Louis, I wanted to say. How horrible. How cruel. “Is that why you can’t understand a mother caring for you, or being your friend or being intimate?”

“Perhaps it is,” Louis said. “My mother and I were never particularly at odds before then, but we weren’t close either. I don’t know. I don’t know what she thought.”

“Why didn’t you ask her?”

“You’re correct that we didn’t have that sort of intimacy. I don’t recall ever asking her much of anything.”

How quickly I regretted this Green Clay Masque with Rice Enzyme. It had already started to itch and I wanted it off me, but I could not move to interrupt what Louis was saying. My heart wouldn’t let me do that.

“I don’t think my family in general liked me very much,” Louis said, his solemn white face still and his eyes far away. “Furthermore, I’m not sure I deserved being liked, since I don’t recall I was very kind to them. My father died and I focused on management, and I don’t wonder if that’s all I did. My sister said as much, after… well, after you and I… after I sent her to the city.”

“Did she really just announce that to you,” I said. “That she didn’t like you? That’s an awfully rude thing to say to the person funding your lifestyle.”

Louis raised an eyebrow at me. I took the point. However, there was strangely little malice in his expression considering how much room in it for malice there was. That was curious and I waited for him to continue.

“Yes she did,” he said. “She and I did become close then. When I visited her, we did talk, and with a great deal of frankness and intimacy, and she said very directly that I had become kinder and that she had begun to understand and to like me. So perhaps my mother simply knew an unkind person.”

But the real you must have shone through, I wanted to say. It seemed impossible to me that anyone could have met Louis and not instantly fallen as fatally in love as I, even, if not especially, his mother. Someone so beautiful, so passionate, so gentle and particular and odd, you’d need a heart of stone not to love him. But perhaps all of his reservations with me had come from this. Perhaps like all of us, Louis had been irreparably shaped by the first person ever to hold his vulnerable mortal body as it came into this world, forever formed by whatever definition of love was taught to him.

“Your mother was crazed with grief, chéri,” I said. “That’s all it was. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Well,” he said. He opened the paper again. His face was flat now. He’d finished. Any grief of his own that lingered, he wouldn’t show me.

I tried, subtly, to scratch my face, but I stopped before he looked at me. If he noticed he’d say something pointedly right about the masque and I didn’t want him to do that. “Whatever happened to that man your sister married,” I said. “She married that… I forget, but there was something about him…”

It was desperate. But I hoped it at least sounded conversational.

“There was nothing about him,” Louis said. “Unless you mean the fact that he was profoundly inbred, which yes, I suppose, is notable from a certain point of view.”

I snorted. “You’re a snob, chaton.”

“I’m nothing of the sort. It’s your kind who inbreed. The middle classes marry out.”

“You are…” I said, but I didn’t know what he was. Terrible, at least, I wanted to say. Absolutely appalling. I felt myself smiling, preparing to tease.

“Listen, Monsieur,” Louis said, and I stopped. He said it firmly, a stately little command, and it worked on me instantly. I listened, I waited.

“Listen, Monsieur,” he said, again. “I intend to be an asset to you in this, not a obstacle.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“That’s all,” he said. “Go on. Go on about your strange ablutions. I’m going to finish these papers.”

[sincerelyreidburke]

The main question on my mind is: Does Nando immediately squeal to Rhodey and Touille about kissing Quinn or not?

Like a middle school girl, my friend.

Here’s a ficlet that serves as the second part of the question posed in this ask, plus the answer to your question, anon! The entire “Quindo first kiss” saga is in this completed work on ao3, if you’re curious to see the rest.

(Ask me anything about the crickets!)

//

It occurs to Nando, around the third or maybe fourth time that Quinn presses his lips to his in the crowded lobby at Faber, that he is having a really, really good day.

Like, okay, it was already good because there was a game, and then it was double good when he saw that Quinn was here, and then he scored off the pure adrenaline of that realization, but this— this takes the cake.

Because this is his first kiss with the boy he’s been thinking about for weeks, and it’s. His brain is shutting itself off. And also screaming! At the same time! Because Quinn is here and he’s in his arms and he came to watch him play and now, now he gets to kiss him, and it’s every bit as soft and sweet and good as he could have possibly daydreamed or imagined—

He can barely get a hold on the English language, and when they pull away from one of several kisses, he takes a breather, meets those blue-green eyes. Quinn’s entire face is flushed, and he knows that his is likely the same, or at least that’s how it feels, because this may be a hockey rink, but he is warm from head to toe. “I can’t believe you came,” he breathes, and it’s half a laugh and half a sentence, as he holds him close.

Quinn presses his thumb gently into his cheek, and the gesture is so tender that Nando thinks he might combust right here and now. “I had to,” Quinn says, simply, with a smile to match his easy tone. “For you.”

Nando is definitely going to combust. He leans down to kiss him, then halts for a second, not exactly second-guessing but more just hesitating, because, well, they haven’t really addressed— “Is it, uh. Okay? That we’re doing this?” He pauses just a moment before adding, “In public?”

“Oh, God, of course,” Quinn breathes, and that is every cue Nando needs to kiss him again. If people want to judge, let them. They are having a moment, God damn it!

“Nando!”

The voice is shrill, like a vibe check from God, and Nando jerks out of the sweet kiss at its rude interruption. He grimaces a little, because he knows exactly who that yell belongs to, and he knows what it means, too. He’s about to get chewed out.

Quinn is looking, like he knows, too, and Nando thinks they both spot Ford at the same time; she’s standing by the locker room door, waving her clipboard menacingly. What’ll it be? Stop being obvious and gay in public? Why are you out here before getting undressed? First a penalty and now PDA? He winces in anticipation.

“If you don’t put your jersey in the laundry bin in the next three minutes, you’re washing it yourself before next game!”

“Oh.” Nando feels a weight lift off his shoulders. That is decidedly less terrifying than the number of other things that could have come out of her mouth. “I’m coming!” he calls. “Sorry, Foxtrot!” But he can’t even help it; he knows he’s still grinning like a doofus. He turns back to the boy in his arms, raising his eyebrows a little, and remarks, “Uh… we might have a slight interruption.”

Quinn is quiet and contemplative for a moment, then smiles gently again, and asks, “Where do you have to be after this?”

“After I undress?” Nando surveys his gear. It won’t take long. And he likes where this is going. “Anywhere you want me to be.”

“Hmm, I see,” Quinn replies, like he’s really deep in thought about it. When he speaks again, he’s whispering, and his eyes are gleaming like the tropical ocean on a warm day. “Meet me in my room?”

Oh, fuck yeah. Nando kisses him again. “I’m there.”

“Sebastián Hernandez I will fine you.”

Quinn laughs against his mouth, and when they come up for air, looks up at him to ask, “What does she mean?”

But Nando puts him down— that can be a topic for another time. “I’ll explain later,” he replies, then, oh, fuck it, he cannot help it, kisses him one last time.

Quinn rests a hand on his chest. On his own two feet, he is so adorably short that Nando thinks he might actually lose his shit. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good.” Nando kisses his cheek before he lets go, then starts to make his backtrack to the locker room; every step he takes that separates them feels way too far. “I’ll see you,” he says, and then promises, “Twenty minutes. Tops.”

Quinn, the cutest thing he has ever seen, folds his arms and tips his head to the side. The little swoop of his hair tosses across his forehead. “I’ll be waiting.”

Nando laughs, winks, and then whips around to make a mad dash for the locker room.

On his way there, he pulls off his jersey, dodging passers-by in the lobby and taking care not to trample their shoes with his skates on the rubber ground. When he reaches Ford by the door, he waves the sweater in her face. “Directly to laundry!” he cries, in a blur by her, and then adds, “I’m sorry!”

But the murderous rage has dissolved, and now that he’s following her orders, Ford is grinning at him. He would feel a chirp coming on if he weren’t running by her so fast.

He drops his jersey in the laundry bin on top of all his teammates’, and then rounds the corner into the actual locker room. The guys are in various states of undress; he left his helmet on his spot and made a break for the lobby to find Quinn right after final buzzer. Now, the only one left in basically full gear, he feels twenty pairs of eyes on him as he comes to a screeching halt in the doorway.

It’s Dex who breaks the silence. “What happened to you?” he asks, with an arched eyebrow and a grin. “You look like you just won the lottery.”

“Yeah,” Touille adds, “why’d you run out of here so fast?”

“I know why,” Rhodey says, all obnoxious, like they’re in middle school. “His boyfriend came to see him.”

A murmur goes around the room, half intrigue and half chirp. “Yoo, Nando,” Nursey asks, shaking out his sweaty curls, “you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Nando takes a deep breath, looks between his teammates, and stays cool for exactly three seconds before he feels his resolve disappear and he breaks out in a shit-eating grin. To Nursey, he shrugs, despite the complete loss of calm, and says, “I think I do now.”

In true Samwell Hockey fashion, the locker room explodes.

“Yoooooooo!” Rhodey literally throws a water bottle at him. “Nanny!”

Nursey is nodding approvingly, which is literally the most validating thing ever. “Dude, major congrats.”

“That’s why you scored, isn’t it?” Louis laughs at the ceiling and squirts Gatorade at him. “You glorious fucking bastard.”

“There should be a fine for that.”

“Foooiiiine—”

“Nando is getting some—”

“Gayest team on campus, baby!”

Nando laughs, darting through the crowd of yelling jocks and back over to his actual spot, where he starts taking his skates off as fast as he can. Rhodey is immediately at his side (in his boxers) demanding details, and Touille appears out of nowhere on the other side. “Dude,” Touille whispers, all conspiratorial. “What happened?”

Rhodey nudges him. “Yeah, spill the tea!”

Nando cannot stop smiling, as he starts to get out of his gear. He takes a deliberately long time to respond, looking between the two of them, and when he does, he shrugs, like the greatest thing in the entire world didn’t happen all of five minutes ago. “May have kissed him.”

“Sebastián Hernandez,” Rhodey cries, with an aggressive slap to his shoulder, “you are my fucking hero.”

Touille laughs. “Get it, Nanny.”

Nando runs his hands through his hair and laughs, pressing his forehead to the shelf on his locker cubby. He allows himself just a second, to bask in the glory, to relive what just went down. Around him, his friends and teammates are still going wild. It is a very fucking good day.

He is going to kiss Quinn so much when he gets back to his room.

But right now, he needs to do the fastest undress and shower of his life.

[ericsonclan]

Our First Christmas

Summary: Omid and Christa work together to have it be the best first Christmas with their kids ever.

Word Count: 2297

Read on A03:

“Do bee do ba do dee da dooo,” Omid hummed to himself as he moseyed round the kitchen. Putting on his oven mitts, he opened the oven and pulled out the cookies. They were baked to perfection, the slightest hint of golden brown on their edges. He had to admit he was pretty proud of himself. Sure, these were pre-made Pillsbury sugar cookies, the kind with the little trees printed on the center, but he’d taken part in their creation and for that Omid considered himself a true chef.

“Mmmm, smells delicious, baby,” Christa placed a quick kiss on her husband’s cheek as she strolled into the kitchen.

“Why, thank you!” Omid grinned proudly before leaning back to look into the living room. “Where are the kids?”

“Playing in their room. Louis is serenading Violet with his latest xylophone song and Vi is staring at the ceiling,”

“Huh. Not sure if staring at the ceiling counts as ‘playing’ but as long as she’s happy,” Omid began to plate the cookies one by one upon the Christmas reindeer tray. “Can you get the milk and glasses, babe?” Christa nodded, helping out with that part of the prep. When everything was ready they carried the milk and cookies into the living room. ‘Kids!” Omid called, cupping his hands round his mouth. “It’s time for presents!”

That got their attention. The kids both barreled out of the room, nearly tumbling over each other as they skidded to a stop. Violet immediately withdrew into herself, crossing her arms and looking toward the floor as if trying to make them forget the excitement she’d expressed merely moments ago. Meanwhile Louis was busy hugging Christa then bouncing over to Omid for another hug. “Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, his eyes practically sparkling as he beamed up at them.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo!” Omid chuckled, tousling the boy’s dreadlocks fondly. Christa sat down, gently patting the seat beside her. Violet came over hesitantly, sitting down right on the edge of the couch. Louis scampered over to sit beside her, in between Violet and Christa. Omid meanwhile remained standing, placing his hands on his hips as he began his announcement. “Alright, kids, eat your milk and cookies. Christa has a very important story to read,” With that he sat down on the floor beside his wife, handing up the book that had been resting on the floor.

Taking it in her hands, Christa positioned the book on her knee so that Louis and Violet could see the pictures as she read. Clearing her throat, she began. “’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…” The story continued, Christa’s voice the only sound in the room besides the soft munching and sipping noises coming from the children. Louis’ eyes were wide as the story continued, his expression rapt as he stared at the illustrations. Violet meanwhile ate cookie upon cookie, only occasionally looking up at the book, but Christa and Omid had grown familiar enough with her mannerisms to know she was interested. It was a peaceful, magical moment, exactly the sort Christa and Omid had hoped they’d be able to achieve this Christmas Eve.

When the story was finished, Christa handed the book over to Omid then turned to Louis and Violet. “Alright, you two. It’s Christmas Eve. You know what that means,”

“Presents!” Louis exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on the couch.

“That’s right. Now, Omid and I had a decision to make regarding this Christmas. With so many expenses happening near the holidays, we knew we would have to choose whether to buy a bunch of tiny gifts or one big gift for each of you,”

Violet looked down at her lap. Omid and Christa shared a glance. She was probably thinking how all the expenses came from the cost of fostering her and Louis and that all those costs were doubled by the fact that she was here too instead of the one child they’d originally planned on.

Omid cut in. “So that’s why we decided to go for the biggest, bestest gift we could come up with for each of you. Because you both deserve the best. And since we hope this is gonna be your forever home, we want you to know that,”

“Let’s start with Violet’s,” Christa nodded to her husband. “Honey?”

“On it!” Omid scurried off to their bedroom, quickly emerging with a large Christmas present, one that took both of his hands to carry. He set it down gently upon Violet’s lap. The present looked even more immense within the small girl’s arms. She looked back and forth between Omid and Christa in confusion, her eyes large. Clearly, she’d never been given such a large gift.

Christa nodded. “Go ahead, Vi. Open it,”

Slowly, Violet began to undo the wrapping paper, her movements careful and exact, almost as though she were afraid the gift would be taken from her at any second and she’d have to return it in perfect condition. Ever so gently, she pushed aside the wrapping paper once it was undone. Inside was a large carrying case made of light blue waterproof fabric with a zipper that ran all the way down the middle. Violet stared at it in puzzlement.

“Ooh, there’s directions! Look, Vi!” Louis exclaimed, snatching up a piece of paper that was tucked underneath the case. He handed it over to Violet who examined the photo carefully before turning to Christa and Omid. “It’s a… tent?”

“Yep! But not just any tent!” Omid said with a grin.

“It’s a star tent,” Christa explained. “Once we set it up, you’ll be able to turn on the miniature projector that comes with it and see all of the constellations on the roof of the tent. The projector comes with a tape player too so you can listen to the stories of all the different constellations or put on some music if you want to listen while you watch the stars,”

Violet looked back down at the bag in her hands. The smallest of smiles began to play on her lips.

“Do you want to set it up now?” Omid offered.

Violet shyly nodded.

The four of them all worked on the tent together. After about a half hour of reading the instructions, assembling the pieces, disassembling the things they put in wrong the first time and putting those together correctly, the tent was finished. Crawling inside the tent for a second, Omid turned on the projector and started the music track that came on the tape. As “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” began to softly play, all eyes turned to Violet.

“Give it a try,” Christa encouraged, gesturing toward the tent. Hesitantly, Violet knelt down and crawled within the tent. As she lay on her back, only her toes could be seen barely popping out of the door to the tent.

“Can I try it too?” Louis asked, his eyes pleading.

Omid and Christa looked at each other. “Well, it’s up to Violet,” Omid answered. “It’s her Christmas present so she decides whether she wants to share or enjoy it on her own,”

The three outside were silent for a minute, watching Violet’s toes as they listened to the music and the slow spiral of the stars as they circled round and round the tent ceiling. Then Violet’s voice came from inside the tent, small and soft.

“Louis? You can watch too,”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Louis shot inside the tent like a rocket, giggling and wriggling excitedly as he settled down into place beside Violet. Christa and Omid sat down outside the tent, enjoying seeing the kids having fun. Through the opening in the tent door, they could see that the two of them were holding hands as they looked at the stars together, Louis providing his own commentary on what he thought the story of each of the stars was.

Christa nudged Omid, mouthing the word ‘snacks’. They went over to the coffee table to grab the remaining milk and cookies, delivering them to the tent with the directions to be careful and not spill anything on the projector. Then they settled back down, snuggling together as they watched the stars from the outside of the little tent.

Once the cookies and milk were all gone, Louis stuck his head out from the tent. “Vi wants to stay in here for the whole night. I was wondering though… I get a present too, right?” his eyes were hopeful before falling down as though afraid he had asked for too much.

“Of course!” Omid exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “It’ll just take a second for us to get the gift since we hid it out in the garage,”

Christa stood too. Placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, she smiled. “Spend a little more time with Violet while we get it. We’ll be right back, OK?”

Louis nodded. Giving Christa another quick hug, he scurried back inside the tent beside Violet.

It took several minutes to roll the present out of the garage and over to the sliding glass doors and another few minutes to safely get it inside the house. By the time they had rolled it in past the Christmas tree, Louis and Violet had both exited the tent, watching the process with wide eyes.

“That’s my present?” Louis asked in disbelief, looking at the massive mystery present covered in Christmas wrapping paper. “It’s bigger than me!”

“That it is, kid,” Omid said with a wink. “Go on – open it!”

Louis paused in front of the present, clearly unsure where to even begin. After a few seconds of deliberation, he thrust his hand forward and ripped away a large swath of the wrapping paper with gusto. It only took a few more tears before he gasped in realization of what lay underneath. “It’s a piano!” With that realization the wrapping devolved into a frenzy, Louis throwing paper this way and that as he tried to uncover the present in its entirety. Once it was all unwrapped he quickly slid out the bench that had been tucked underneath, plopping down upon it before running his small hand against the wood grain of the piano. He turned to Christa and Omid in disbelief. “You got me a real life piano for Christmas?”

“We figured it was a step up from the xylophone,” Christa replied with a wry smile. She gestured towards the bench. “The seat opens and there are some starter books in there for you to use,”

Louis excitedly leapt up from the bench. Flinging it open, he grabbed all of the books from within the bench, excitedly flipping through each of them. Violet had returned to the comfort of her tent, but this time had her head poking out instead of her feet, watching Louis with interest. Having settled on a book, Louis flipped it opened to a certain page and placed it on the music rack.

The page had a display of the different keys on the piano and the corresponding letter for each one. Louis let his finger hover above one of the keys before lightly pressing down on it. A deep, resounding rumble came from the low note. Louis’ face brightened in excitement at the sound. He placed his finger upon another key, then another and another. Running his hands along the piano, Louis giggled happily as he played all the notes one after the other then got to play them in the opposite direction as well.

Christa and Omid shared a smile. Both gifts seemed to be a hit. Louis was completely enraptured with his piano and Violet had stuck her head back inside her tent, returning to her stars. Omid squeezed his wife’s shoulders gently. “Decaf coffee?” Christa nodded and he went to go start a pot. They would let the kids stay up a bit later this night and enjoy their presents. After all, they had all morning tomorrow to sleep in then play with them again to their hearts’ content.

---

It was 6 AM the next morning when Omid awoke to the sound of piano music. Christa was already awake and sitting up beside him in bed, blinking blearily. She turned to Omid with a weary smile. “Today we’ll let him enjoy it, but tomorrow we’re establish ground rules for how early in the morning the piano can be played,”

“Agreed,” Omid rolled out of the bed with a groan. “Coffee?”

“I’ll come with you, get breakfast started,” Christa replied, getting up as well.

As they descended the stairs and entered the living room, they spotted Louis sitting at his piano, happily playing a song he must have made up himself. His hands crashed over the keys as he sang some sort of lyrics of his own. He paused when he saw Christa and Omid, flashing them a happy smile. “Merry Christmas! Thanks again for the best present ever!” With that he returned to his piano, playing with even more fervor than before. Omid and Christa shared a smile. Louis had thanked them about a dozen times when they were putting him to bed last night. Clearly, he was just as excited today.

Violet was inside her tent once more. She popped out her head for a second as they approached, giving them a shy wave before retreating back inside. Christa and Omid returned the wave even though she wouldn’t be able to see it. Then they headed toward the kitchen together, ready to prepare Christmas breakfast a few hours earlier than they had anticipated. Opening the fridge, Christa paused as she and her husband locked eyes. “We did it,” she whispered happily.

“Yeah we did,” Omid grinned.

They’d given the kids the perfect Christmas.

[takemedancingmaine]

Where I Belong

The weather had finally shifted to spring.

Although, if we’re honest, there’s not a real spring in Chicago. Only winter and then false hope then more winter and then, somehow overnight, summer. 

It was sticky and the air was heavy. You could feel it on your skin the moment you stepped outside. Paired with some of the bluest skies and the clear water of Lake Michigan, one could understand the allure of Chicago, finally making sense of why people brave the winters and the grey skies. Every year around this time, I fell in love with the city all over again, fell in love with the vibe of spring baseball games and a beer on my front porch with a good book in my lap. I fell in love with beach days and rooftop day parties and going to the zoo for a walk around just because. 

The trees along Lakeshore were green and full when I ran past them in the mornings, the birds were singing loud over the traffic, and kids were playing with chalk on the sidewalk in front of their houses.

It wasn't like I needed a reminder of all the reasons I loved Chicago, because I just did, but the month of May brought the reminders out for me anyway. I was enamored by the juxtaposition of the busy city behind me and the vast, empty expanse of blue water in front, kicking at the wall under my heels as I dangled my legs over the edge.

I was sitting on a concrete barrier on the edge of the Lake that separated two beaches in Bryn Mawr and writing in my journal. 

It was something I was doing more and more since starting therapy all those months ago. I was not a writer by any means, nor was I eloquent, but I never felt pressure to write well or to even make sense of my thoughts as they left my mind and etched themselves into words on the pages. I simply felt a pull to get the thoughts down so that they weren't festering inside of me. It was a relief I felt that was similar to running. It was a solitary activity where I was alone with myself and able to attempt to understand myself better.

Three and a half months since my secret came to light, since I faced it out in the open and gave it a name and came to terms with the fact that I had to accept it and push forward in a healthy way. Last week, Brian had ‘graduated’ us all from his self-defense class and was gearing up to start anew with another fresh batch of students.

He was excited to start all over again in the fall, and I was excited to have not only completed his class but to have gained more than just knowledge but two friendships as a result of pushing myself through it. Tala and Brian were instrumental in my healing process, and I couldn't be happier with them being a part of my life. They also folded in seamlessly with the rest of the group. Between Tala’s wit and Brian’s charisma, they were always a welcome addition whenever they could join us in our activities.  

There was just one thing about those activities that I had yet to rectify.

I also knew it had to be me, that I had to make the move to solve it. It took me a while to come to terms with this, longer than it had taken me to come to terms with everything else. It was countless hours talking to Louis and Cleo. I even spent a lot of time with Liam and asked his opinions. His advice had been incredibly simple: do what you feel like you’re ready to do, and even if you don’t feel ready, take that step anyway: test yourself.

Ordinarily, I would’ve scoffed at his idea, but Tala said something similar when I went to her with the issue as well. She was the one who, despite what her brother had told her, approved of my severing ties with Niall in the first place. She was the one who said it was better for me. Recently though, she was starting to push me more and more. The conversation we’d had last weekend had centered around the fact that I would probably never feel ready to make this move, but going off of everything else I’d done and all the progress I’d made, I was ready.

I still wasn’t sure, but that was the thing. Emotions are like water. They're impossible to compress. So once the thought was there, I couldn't push it back down. I had to follow through.

I think it was like Tala had said, that I might never be sure. I thought about how rarely sure we are in life and it made me realize just how much we as humans gamble and hope for the best, blowing on the dice for luck before we throw them down. So what if I still wasn't sure? I couldn't remember a time when I was sure. Life was about putting all the pieces together and hoping they made a puzzle, but if not it was okay, there was always a new path, a new puzzle to piece together waiting around each bend.

My journal entry was reflecting this sentiment as I scribbled in it in all caps. I noticed that when I wrote now, my penmanship was all capitals, blockish and somehow a little bit flowy. It was how I’d written notes and essays when I was in high school but had steered away from when I was trying to take notes at a much quicker pace in college. I had told Dr. Winters a few weeks ago that maybe it was because it was more deliberate, slower and more methodical to write in all capital letters. I wasn’t sure yet why or if it meant anything specific–it could always be as simple as I like the aesthetic more–but it was something to think about anyway.

“Hey,” a voice called me from my reverie. I’d been absorbed in writing, absorbed in listening to the sound of the water below me, entranced by the sunshine beating down on me. I slipped a page marker into the journal and closed it, setting it and the pen beside me before looking up. 

It was the hat on his head that made me smile. 

“Hi,” I said, patting the ground beside me, signaling for him to sit.

He did. He maneuvered himself down and leaned back on his hands, his head falling back as he looked up at the sky, his eyes closed.

I took that moment to look him over. He was tan, his skin practically glowing in the sunshine, and his facial hair was fuller. It suited him. I couldn’t tell what his hair was doing, but as he took a deep breath and lowered his head back down and opened his eyes, I noted that the easiness he’d always carried about him was still present. I’d worried that I might’ve stripped that from him, but from the looks of it, I hadn’t.

He turned his head toward me and I was struck by the blue of his eyes. Even with the blue water below me, the blue sky above me, and the blue hat situated on top of his head, his eyes were still the most vibrant, the most riveting of all the options. There was a depth to them that even the most renowned artists would struggle to capture. I could see them clearly even in the shade of his ball cap.

For months I’d thought that perhaps seeing those eyes again would cripple me, tear me down brick-by-brick until I was an amorphous blob on the ground, unable to function back at square one. Yet here I was, staring into those eyes and holding my own, maintaining myself. I had thought that I’d see something in those eyes that might indicate pain or regret. Instead, I saw curiosity and respect. I’d spent a few months dealing with both of those qualities in other people’s gazes to know what they were, and seeing them there, on him, felt natural. As if this was how it was supposed to be.

“You look tan,” I said. 

He nodded and looked out ahead of us toward the horizon. “Yeah, I um. I went on that trip to South Africa a few weeks ago with Greg. It was a place our dad had always wanted to go, so we figured we’d get down there and see what he’d been going on and on about for so long.” 

“How was it?”

“It was unbelievable,” he said. When he said that, I saw that smile, his smile, slip onto his face and watched as his features lit up. I could feel my own features shift into a smile as a response to his, the reaction involuntary, but I was unable to do anything but react to his contagious good vibe. “We did a great white shark thing, watched them breach from a boat and even went down in a tank to watch them from below. It was the scariest, coolest thing I’ve ever done by far. I don't know if I'll ever be able to top it, but I would like to try.” 

He was happy. 

I was struck by that when he looked at me full on again. He was happy and so was I.

We fell into silence. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. There was so much to be said between us so much that needed to be discussed and sorted through, but somehow we both understood that we were under no pressure and that added a level of comfort to the situation.

He spoke first.

“You look lighter… somehow. Calmer,” he said, glancing at me, appraising, and then shifted his gaze back out to the lake.

“I feel lighter,” I said after a moment. Watching him, and then following his gaze to the horizon. He didn't interrupt me when I paused to gather my thoughts, and I appreciated his patience, and appreciated that even after all these months he still believed I deserved the time to get it right. “Therapy has helped quite a bit. As has telling everyone.”

“Louis mentioned to me that you told everyone, including your family,” he said. I watched him from the corner of my eye. “I was really proud of you for that. It must've taken a lot of strength.”

I let out a breathless chuckle. “The family’s response was something, to be sure. And it's funny, but I knew how our friends would react. I just didn't let myself believe that they would be so supportive, that it wouldn't make them look at me in pity. I knew that they wouldn't, but taking that leap of faith is still scary sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, the timber of his voice rattling my bones. “They're some pretty remarkable people, our friends.”

“If we're calling lunacy ‘remarkable’ nowadays, then sure.” He laughed out loud at my words and I felt it in my toes, his spirit floating lightly. His energy lifted me through this process. If it was anytime else, I couldn't have been able to do this, to tell them.

“I don't expect you to forgive me,” I said, my voice quiet suddenly. “I know I didn't exactly go about, well, anything the right way at first. But I'm trying now and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apol-”

“I do,” I interrupted him. He cut his gaze to me quickly, the confusion clear within it. “I do,” I repeated with a nod. “I hurt you. I know I hurt you. Regardless of why or the outcome, I still did that. And for that, I'm sorry.”

“I accept,” he said back quietly, his eyes still watching me.

I stayed silent for a long while, looking out over the water, but I knew he was watching me, and could feel his eyes on me. It must've been a handful of minutes later before I spoke again.

“I don't have my nightmare anymore.” As much as I wanted to keep looking at the water I desperately wanted to see his face when he processed that news. So, I turned and watched.

“You what?” His mouth was wide, his eyes searching my face and moving at a quick pace, his voice was nothing but a whisper of words on an exhale of breath leaving him in a gust.

“Since early March,” I said, nodding. “Two and a half months ago.”

“That's great, Ruby,” he said softly and looked away again. I watched as he took his Cubs hat off and ran a hand through his hair before settling his hat back down. His hair was wavy and long on top, but shorter onthe sides. It was my favorite style on him.

“It's been a relief,” I admitted. He nodded at my words.

“I'm sure Moggy appreciates not being woken up in the middle of the night, too,” he said, a smile pulling on his features, knowing that the worst was behind us.

“Oh she's never been happier,” I smiled back. “I was putting a real damper on her beauty rest.” We giggled quietly and then fell into another bout of comfortable silence, the minutes just passing by as we took in being beside each other again. A couple of kids passed by on skateboards behind us and a man blaring reggae music from a speaker walked by at a leisurely pace, the sound fading as he made it to the beach to our left.

“I was thinking,” I started after it had been silent for a while, “that it's probably time our friends stopped making two sets of plans.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling his gaze down to me and quirking his eyebrows.

“This wasn't nearly as hard as I built it up in my head to be,” I said, letting him know I'd been nervous about seeing him. 

He let out a slow breath and nodded, another smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah, it really hasn't been.” I let him think for a moment, able to see the thoughts whirring behind his eyes. “I think that's fair.”

“You think we can pull it off, being friends?”

“Well,” he drew in a breath and let it out slowly, “we've done being a couple, and we’ve done being nothing to each other, so I think that maybe friends can be a happy medium for us.”

I hoped so.

Sitting there I realized that although I had patched myself up and that I was happy, content with my life and who I was, I had still missed Niall.

I'd missed his contagious laugh and his easygoing energy. I'd missed his quirky bookish quotes that would come out when he was trying to be introspective and I'd missed watching him interact with Louis and the rest of our friends. 

I realized just how easily I could be his friend. I thought about how he would fit in with Tala and Brian and how he'd compliment each of them as well. I thought about our group game nights having good music again because my choices wouldn't be voted down and the Guinness that would be stocked in all of our fridges for just-in-case purposes.

If anything were to happen between us in the future–and I recognized that hypothetical as a long shot because of the trust that would have to be built back up–that was for the future. For right now, I was happy just having him around again.

It was enough for me. It was calm and I felt that ease settling into my belly as I thought about that. I wasn't wary of what was to come or nervous of screwing anything up. It was an easy friendship and there were expectations that went along with being a friend, but they didn't feel impossible to meet or to breathe under.

“Hey,” he said, pulling me again from my reverie with that single word.

I looked over at him.

“This feels good.”

“It does,” I acknowledged. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thanks for reaching out,” he said.

I took a deep breath and looking out at the lake in front of me, seeing it for what was far from the first time, I felt myself sink into happiness, all of my nervous energy from before leaving me like the waves pulling away from the barrier and all that was coming in was a warmth and a relief that spread through me. 

Looking right, I could see the green grass and trees and the golden beach past them, could see skyscrapers reaching up into the blue beyond above and could see the sun as it travelled its path, steady and constant and not concerning itself with anything but its own power and strength.

The sun knew that it would be cloudy some days, but that never dimmed its shine, it was bright regardless of what was happening around it. I took a deep breath and closing my eyes against the light hoped that I could be like that too, bright and unwavering and strong in the face of life. I finally felt like I was in a place where that wasn't an unreasonable hope.

[gigi-sinclair]

5000th Post Ficstravaganza: Part 5/5

And my actual 5000th post!

Part 1 is here (The Terror, Joplittle, Pancake Day)

Part 2 is here (The Terror, Joplittle, Edward’s spectacles)

Part 3 is here (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, bathing)

Part 4 is here (The Terror, pre-Joplittle, a dark and stormy night)

For @buttymcbuttface, who requested Edward being very ticklish, and Thomas taking advantage of it. Full disclosure, I actually really hate being tickled myself, so this may not have the graphic tickle scenes you were hoping for, but there is some light bondage!

Forever and Not Nearly Long Enough, rated M. A followup to my fic Breakaway, aka the football/agent modern AU I stole borrowed from lafiametta. Mentions of Goodsir/Silna and Crozier/Fitzjames.

Tom doesn't realize just how drunk he is until he attempts to put his key into the front door, and the lock eludes him. 

"Need a hand?" Ed presses up behind him, his arms winding around Tom's waist and his tongue tracing the edge of Tom's ear. He moves down to kiss along Tom's jaw, then to suck at his neck. None of this does anything for Tom's coordination. He tries to bat Ed away, but Ed doesn’t move.

There are only two other flats on this floor, and the corridor is currently empty. Still, Tom has no desire to be caught making out against the door like a couple of horny teenagers. 

Ed's public coming out has gone better than Tom honestly thought it would. A couple of his bus shelter advertisements have been defaced with unimaginative slurs. At first, there was a little awkwardness in the club changing room, which Tom has stopped visiting, but Ed hasn't lost any endorsements. In fact, he's gained a couple. More important are the emails and Instagram messages Ed has received from dozens of LGBTQA kids who, up until now, had believed their sexuality automatically precluded them from any future as a professional athlete. Ed doesn't say much about it, but Tom knows how much those notes mean to him.  

The key finally hits home, and Tom and Ed stumble into the darkened flat. The moment they cross the threshold, Ed kicks the door shut and is upon Tom once more, pushing him against the wall and sliding his tongue eagerly into Tom's mouth. 

"If I'd known weddings did this to you," Tom gasps, when Ed grinds against him, "I'd have taken to you to one a long time ago." 

Harry and Silna's wedding was beautiful, like most weddings are. The bride was radiant; Goodsir spent the entire time looking like he couldn't believe it was actually happening. Tom had a great time, dancing with Ed and talking to the other guests, including Francis Crozier's new, close friend, Britannia Fitzjames. On the heels of Ed's coming out, the popular Instagram model made an announcement of her own, revealing her identity as a transwoman. Tom admires her, but not as much as Francis does. When Tom and Ed left, the two of them were sitting in a cosy corner, holding hands with hearts in their eyes. 

"Not weddings," Ed murmurs. "Just you." He backs off a little and removes his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the floor behind him. 

Tom frowns. "Don't leave it there."

"What?"

"Your jacket. It'll get creased as hell if you leave it on the floor.”

An indecipherable look appears in Ed's eyes, even as the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. "What will you to do me?"

"Excuse me?”

"What will you do? If I leave the jacket there."

Tom isn't sure what this is about, beyond the fact Ed is clearly just as drunk, if not drunker, than Tom. It's rare for him to be playful. Tom finds himself wanting to take advantage of it. 

"Oh," Tom says, "I know just what you deserve." 

He reaches out and yanks Ed's shirttails from his trousers. Before Ed can react, Tom slips his hands beneath and slides his hands up Ed’s bare sides. 

"Fuck, Tom!" Instinctively, Ed tries to escape. Tom doesn't let him. "You bastard," Ed laughs. 

The discovery that Ed is extremely ticklish was made quite by accident. In bed one day, Tom noticed him squirming and giggling--actually giggling--when Tom brushed his sides. Further experimentation revealed Ed had a similar reaction to Tom touching under his arms, the back of his knees, the soles of his feet. Being a kind and benevolent man, Tom has never abused this knowledge. Until now. 

Still laughing, Ed twists away from Tom's tickling fingers and flees. Tom puts the jacket on a hanger, because, all jokes aside, it is Louis Vuitton, and follows.

He reaches the bedroom just a dozen paces behind Ed, but it's long enough for Ed to  position himself to attack. He jumps out as Tom steps through the doorway, tackling him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath their sudden, combined weight. "You think you're clever?" Ed asks, grinning. 

"Yes," Tom replies, honestly. Ed sits up, but doesn't remove himself from Tom's body. Pinned beneath him, Tom watches as Ed loosens, then removes, his own striped club tie. 

"You know how I feel about being tickled." 

Tom remains defiant. "I don't regret it." 

"Not yet, maybe." Ed loops the tie around Tom's right wrist and ties it to the headboard with the loosest knot imaginable. If he so wished, Tom could easily break free. He finds himself not wanting to. More than that, he finds himself growing warmer, his breath coming faster as Ed pulls off Tom's tie and uses it to restrain his left hand. "There." Ed surveys his handiwork, a flush on his cheeks Tom is certain must be matched on his own. "Seems like I'm the one in charge now." 

Tom swallows around the lump which has suddenly appeared in his throat. "True."

"Seems like I can do anything I want."

"Seems like it." 

Ed falters. For a moment, Tom thinks Ed will revert to his usual self, but he doesn't. Instead, without saying a word, he steps off the bed. Remaining in Tom's line of sight, he removes the rest of his clothes: shirt, shoes, trousers, underpants and socks, leaving them piled on the floor in a way Tom is sure is deliberate. Once he is naked, he straddles Tom once more, giving him an excellent view of most of Ed’s many tattoos, including Tom’s favourite: Tom’s own name, inscribed right over Ed’s heart.  

"What if I want to tease you? Get you all revved up and leave you hanging?" Ed asks, with a little wriggle.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Would he?

Another gleam comes to Ed’s eye. “What if I want to ride you?”

They've never done that before. Intellectually, Tom knows, for Ed's sake, this isn't something they should be undertaking for the first time while they're drunk and, at least in Tom’s case, growing increasingly desperate, but Tom's intellectualism disappears the moment Ed unzips his trousers and pulls out Tom’s already-eager cock. 

"Don't come on my clothes," Tom says. 

"Yes, sir," Ed replies. Tom's cock jerks again. "Any other requests?" 

"Enjoy yourself." 

Ed laughs and slides down the bed to take Tom into his mouth.

It's amazing, of course. Ed undertakes everything he does with single-minded focus and determination. After several months of living with him, and several more of working with him, Tom has learned he personally does not always appreciate this unswerving dedication of Ed's, particularly when it would be useful for him to multitask a little. In bed, however, Tom has no complaints. Rather the reverse. The look of pure concentration on Ed’s face as he lowers himself, slick and tight, onto Tom’s cock is a thing of such beauty, Tom wishes he had the artistic skills to capture it. Then again, Tom is happy with this view being for him and him alone. 

Afterwards, Ed cares for Tom gently, although that feels more like something Tom should be doing for Ed. He unties his wrists and undresses him the rest of the way. True to his word, there is not a spot of semen on Tom's bespoke Jermyn Street suit. 

Ed even goes so far as to hang up Tom's clothes, as well as his own, before returning to bed. Tom knows he should ask after him, make sure he's not too sore or, worse yet, embarrassed by what they just did, but he’s so tired, he can't bring himself to form words. In the morning, he promises himself. 

Ed rests his head on Tom's shoulder.  "Three months."

"Hmm?"

"It'll be our turn to walk down the aisle in three months."

"Ten weeks.” Tom has an intricate system of colour-coded folders dedicated to every aspect of planning their wedding. Tom opens his eyes. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Are you joking? I can’t wait. I’d marry you tomorrow, if I didn’t know how much work you’ve put in for this big do." The complete certainty in Ed's voice brings a smile to Tom's face. Not that he ever doubted it, but Ed isn't always the most expressive of people. It's nice to hear it out loud, once in a while. "Even," Ed adds, "if you are a bastard."

“Your bastard,” Tom corrects. “Always.”

Ed reaches up for a kiss, then cuddles in close. Tom falls asleep happy. with his face in Ed’s hair and his arm, steady, secure and not at all prone to tickling, about Ed’s middle. 

[elceeu2morrow]

NEW DIRECTION Louis Tomlinson on why he’s not ready to make up with Zayn Malik and how fatherhood made him grow-up fast

Beth Neil  2 Feb 2020, 0:01  Updated: 2 Feb 2020, 3:06

Back then he didn’t appear to be a natural frontman. He wasn’t one to hog the spotlight, nor did he seem remotely interested in competing with the magnetism of Harry or the vocal range of Zayn.

“There were times I struggled to find my place in the band,” Louis admits today.

But it’s often the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.

Behind the scenes he was very much centre stage: Louis was the mouthpiece, constantly fighting the boys’ corner and acting as chief negotiator between band and management.

“Being from Doncaster,” he says, “I’ve never had a problem with telling anyone ‘no’.”

On top of this (and perhaps most significantly), in the six years that the band were together after finishing third on The X Factor in 2010, Louis diligently racked up more songwriting credits than any of the others, hinting that a hard-working and ambitious young artist lurked beneath the surface.

Indeed, while he might be the last of the band to release a solo album (four years after they announced their hiatus, breaking several million hearts in the process), the result suggests that Louis, having held his nerve and bided his time, might just prove to be the dark horse.

“There was a while when I was worried I was getting left behind – some of the boys are on to their second album now,” he says, taking a draw onthe first of several cigarettes. “At times, I’ve been swimming against the tide, working out who I am. I was trying to find a way back into the industry, thinking of it mathematically rather than going off feeling and emotion.”

He’s referring to collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki in 2016 and 2017 respectively, which, although successful, weren’t where his heart lay. With Kill My Mind – the exhilarating ’90s-inspired opening track of the album Walls – he sets his stall out with a clear departure from anything he’s done before.

Walls is about regret, reflection and ultimately, hope, and feels like Louis, who sings in his still-broad Doncaster accent, has finally found his voice.

“I’ve always wanted to be autobiographical and honest. And in the last six months the songs I’ve written and recorded are of a better standard because there’s an honesty there,” he says.

Honesty certainly characterises the album, sometimes devastatingly so. There’s no escaping the fact that Louis, 28, has faced unimaginable pain over the last few years.

First losing his mum Johannah Deakin, known as Jay, in December 2016 to leukaemia, and then his sister Félicité, who died last year aged 18 following an accidental drug overdose.

The lyrics to Two Of Us, written about his mum, include intimate details about Louis’ experience with grief.

“It wasn’t until after I’d written it that I realised how much vulnerability I’d put in there,” he says. “When I first performed it… I had fans coming up to me in tears telling me their stories, and that’s not something I’ve ever had before. And to do it on that level about something so delicate… It was really cool to take something so dark and make people feel like that.

“I had to get a song like that off my chest. It was difficult writing about things that felt trivial compared to what was going on in my life. There was, I think, a necessity to write that song before I could move on creatively.”

Understandably, Louis won’t talk specifically about Félicité. But when asked about how grief has shaped him both as a man and an artist, he pays tribute to Jay.

“I think it’s a credit to how my mum brought me up that I have a resilience,” he says. “There’s nothing I want less than to have people feel sorry for me, so having that mentality has helped me through the hardest of times.

"I’ve also felt a real support system through my fans. I’d always felt it on a lower level, but when it’s something so impactful and life-defining, I really did feel it from them.”

Days after Jay’s death, Louis appeared live on The X Factor to perform Just Hold On with Aoki.

He was clearly in pieces and it was hard enough just watching, but somehow he held it together, presumably thanks again to that resilience.

“Sometimes it’s fight or flight,” Louis explains. “And the way I was brought up and because of where I’m from, I only see one option in that situation. I also wanted to put myself second and do it for my mum.

"That moment was bigger than me and it was actually incredibly liberating. It used every bit of strength and power and I look back on that performance as one of the proudest moments of my career.”

He says he tends not to suppress emotion and is able to share his darkest points with those he’s closest to.

But as the eldest of Jay’s seven children (five girls and two boys), he also feels a huge weight of responsibility towards his younger siblings and hasn’t had any professional therapy himself.

“No, no, nothing like that. That might be down to a bit of Northern pride, but I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and that drives me. I’ve got siblings who look up to me and I’ve got my grandparents as well. So all those things keep my head screwed on.

“My mum had a massive influence on me and I lived with a lot of sisters in the house, so I do find it easier to speak about my emotions. But I’m also from Doncaster, where to be a guy is to be tough and traditional and I feel like [there are] times where pride kicks in and I just say I’m all right.

"I’m lucky that I’ve got good people around me who I can trust and who I can be completely vulnerable with and say how I feel. Nine times out of 10, I don’t bottle things up. I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

[below the cut is the rest of the unedited article - including Eleanor, Freddie, 1D]

His model, blogger and politics graduate girlfriend Eleanor Calder, 27, who Louis first got together with back in 2010 during the last week of The X Factor (“before it got manic”) has been a crucial part of the stability he’s needed through such sadness.

“She’s been amazing. With any monumental time in your life you need people who understand and love you. She makes my life easier.”

In 2015 they split up for nearly two years during which time Louis became a dad to Freddie, now four, following a brief fling with LA stylist Briana Jungwirth.

The track Too Young is almost an apology to Eleanor for that period (“I’m sorry I hurt you, darling… I cut you off cos I didn’t know no better”), but Louis says the time apart taught him some tough lessons and has made them stronger.

“I think we both agree that we needed [that break]. I was too immature for a relationship of that seriousness. But I had to learn that and be an idiot first.

“A lot of young men won’t understand until they have hindsight. The responsibility of meeting someone you could spend the rest of your life with at 18 is too much for most immature men. I was very immature at that → age and didn’t understand the feelings or importance.”

He and Eleanor guard their privacy ferociously and very deliberately haven’t made themselves a public couple. They don’t go to places where they’ll get papped or post pictures of each other on social media.

“Me and Eleanor have been together ages and I don’t have a lot of private photos for myself,” he says. “Even on a night out there’ll be some f**ker taking my picture and it goes everywhere.

"So those moments to ourselves are special. It’s the same way I look at Freddie. Do I wanna show him off and tell the world how amazing he is? Yes, of course I do! But I know he’s amazing and he knows that and that’s what matters.”

He dotes on Freddie (“I cherish my time with my boy”) but admits the unplanned pregnancy was a wake-up call.

“Yeah, it was unexpected and I had to grow up very quickly. It was another one of them moments – being faced with the reality of a situation and having to step up. It was a very maturing time in my life.

“And, again, I’ve kind of got between two headspaces. I’m the responsible dad and brother some days and other days I’m still the reckless idiot chav I used to be. I’m still trying to work out a happy medium.”

Absolutely no one could have predicted the global phenomenon that 1D became, least of all Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall and Harry themselves.

They sold 20 million albums worldwide, earning over £40million each, but the pressures of fame were, at times, intolerable. Louis says they were only able to keep their heads screwed on because they had each other.

“You can never be prepared for that. It was such a head f**k. But we grounded each other so the minute one of us acted like a d**khead one of the others would say: ‘Stop being a d**khead’. I see people in this job surrounding themselves with superiority and they lose the concept of the real world.”

He remembers doing a shoot with the band for Pepsi over in the States with American footballer Drew Brees.

“This guy was like a god and we were insignificant when he was around, which we understood. But I’ve never seen anything like it. Every sentence that came out of his mouth he’d have an audience of hangers-on in hysterics.

"These people were so far up his arse and he didn’t have one good joke. He had no banter! I still hang around with my boys from Doncaster and I hear real stories all the time, which helps me understand the world that unfortunately I don’t get to see. Having empathy with people and a connection with the world is imperative for any songwriter.”

Harry Styles recently said that he never touched drugs during his time in the band (although he’s made up for that since), because he didn’t want to “mess it up”. Louis smiles as he confides that he can’t say the same.

“All I’ll say is that I did my fair share and enjoyed my time in the band. It’s right what Harry said and it was smart of him, but I definitely had a lot of fun in the band. I was always aware of how amazing the opportunity was, but also enjoying the moment for what it was. I lived like anyone else my age – the difference was that I was in One Direction.”

He’s in touch with Harry, Niall and Liam “sporadically” (we’ll come to Zayn shortly), but they’re all on very different paths for now.

“If we all went to a pub tomorrow it’d be like we’d never left. The enormity of what happened in One Direction creates a massive bond and we’ll always have that.

"There have been times when we’ve done each other’s heads in. There might be something I say in an interview that bugs Liam or vice versa, but we all know what each other is like and we can call each other up and say sorry for being a d**k. We’re like brothers.”

But that’s not necessarily the case with Zayn, who quit in 2015 and with whom Louis has had a turbulent relationship since. He was hurt when Zayn was the only one not to turn up at the X Factor studio to support him through his performance after Jay’s death, despite promising to be there.

Then there’s Zayn’s apparent repeated digs. In one interview he branded 1D’s music “generic as f**k”. There’s a difference between making a break from the past and dismissing it completely, and it’s a line Zayn perhaps hasn’t always managed to walk.

“Hmm,” agrees Louis, cautiously. “Other than maybe Niall, there is no one who is prouder of the band and the songs we created than me. But while what I did with One Direction is relevant, it doesn’t define who I am and I don’t struggle to make that dissociation.”

Does he think some of what Zayn has said has been disrespectful?

“Yeah, I do. But I can understand it. We have a lot of situations where we’re sat in interviews and if you’re in a certain mood you might run your mouth. The older you get the more you can tell if these things actually carry any malice or if they’re just a prod in the back. That’s life, innit? Sometimes people chat s**t and that’s the reality.”

He’s not ruling out resolving their differences in the future, but there’s no olive branch on the horizon.

“No, but I’ve not actively tried. We’ve all got a lot on our plates and there might be a day where I wake up and think: ‘OK, I want to right that wrong’, but not yet.”

After being in his company for a while, it’s not hard to see why Louis was 1D’s driving force backstage. He’s thoughtful, articulate, open and self-aware, but there’s a steeliness to him and the requisite pop-star swagger, which doesn’t seem to spill over into arrogance.

He’s based in LA these days, to stay close to Freddie, but “Donny” will always be home. He says comparing the two places is “literally chalk and cheese” and it’s taken him time to “come round” to living in the States.

“It’s taken a while to get used to spending so much time there. I feel like I’m very British at heart.”

And that is reflected in his music, which is heavily influenced by the Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths and Oasis. In fact, the title track and latest single Walls sounds so similar to Oasis B-side and fans’ favourite Acquiesce that Louis’ manager flagged it as a potential issue.

“These kinds of things happen. There are only so many melodies you can write and if you listen to a band all the time like I do with Oasis…”

Anyway, says Louis. He had to make a choice.

“I was ready to risk it, but everyone said we should get in touch with Noel [Gallagher] so we did. Often the industry, and especially Noel’s world, can be a bit snobby and say: ‘F**k you you’re not using this song’. But he was really cool about it, signed it off no problem and although I’m sure he’s not happy about this, I f**king am, I’ve got a writing credit from Noel Gallagher on my album. That is some sick s**t so I’m buzzing.”

Is he nervous about going it alone? “I think I’ve got a good record so I’m confident. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t little bit nervous – there’s three and half years work gone into it so there’s a level of anticipation.”

The most overwhelming emotion though, is relief.

“Because it’s taken such a long time. I’m excited to go on to the next phase of my career.”

Louis Tomlinson’s new album Walls is out now.

[angelofthequeers]

Shine a Light on Me - part 5

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Thanks to everyone who’s been following this fic! It was originally meant to be a salty oneshot and I can’t even believe it expanded into what it did. And thanks to anyone who’s liked and reblogged this - it means a lot more than you think, considering that this is only my second ever ML fic.

Part 4 | AO3 link

It’s not easy to navigate a building when you’re a group of brightly costumed superheroes trying not to be seen, especially when you’re looking for a fellow hero with a chance of being under the villain’s thumb. Somehow, though, Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Carapace eventually find Chat Noir hiding in the library in the non-fiction stacks, curled in a ball.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug rushes to his side and kneels next to her off-white partner. He squints up at her, and with the words ‘Adrien Agreste’ painted across his forehead, it’s a wonder that Luce Bianca hadn’t seen who he was before he could escape.

“Milady?” he croaks. He breaks into a weak grin when he sees Rena Rouge and Carapace behind her.

“How are you feeling, kitty?” Ladybug says, cupping his cheeks. She deliberately doesn’t look at the writing scrawled all over his body; he deserves his secrets, and if there’s anything he wants her to know then he’ll tell her. “Does it hurt?”

“Not now that you’re here,” Chat Noir says before his weak grin slips. “Honestly, it doesn’t. So long as I can’t see Luce Bianca, I don’t feel like I have to start spilling every little dark secret I have – it’s looking at her that hypnotises you into staying close to her. I think I’m pretty useless right now, bugaboo.”

“Dude, you’re far from useless,” Carapace says. “She totally would’ve gotten those kids if you hadn’t stopped her. And there’s gotta be some way you can help like this.”

“If we could find some way to cut the link between him and Luce Bianca when he’s near her, he could get the akuma without the risk of getting zapped,” Ladybug says slowly. “I know I usually wait until we’re in battle to do this, but…Lucky Charm!”

“Uh, okay,” Rena Rouge says slowly when Ladybug’s given a ladybug-patterned can of spray paint. “I don’t think spray-painting Luce Bianca will do much to stop her.”

Ladybug frowns. Her eyes are drawn to Chat Noir, then Carapace’s shield, then Rena Rouge, and she suddenly knows what they need to do. “Okay, guys, here’s the plan…”

“You think you can humiliate me like that?” Luce Bianca is shouting when the group of superheroes crouch in one of the corridors leading to the courtyard. Ladybug can’t help but wonder why Luce Bianca hasn’t left but then realises that it’s probably easier to keep everyone and their secrets close to her if she’s not moving and giving them the chance to slip away. “Well, I’ll expose you to the world, Ladybug! How are you going to defeat me without your mangy cat sidekick?”

“Meowch,” says a pitch-black Chat Noir. Covered in paint like he is, with a blindfold made of curtain fabric to prevent him from being able to see Luce Bianca, there’s no way he can do anything unless he’s got someone helping him.

“You’re my mangy cat,” Ladybug says. “Rena Rouge, Carapace, you ready?”

“Never been readier, dude,” Carapace says.

“Damn right,” Rena Rouge adds, twirling her flute between her fingers.

“Okay. Just like we planned.” Ladybug runs out of the corridor and does a graceful flip to land right in front of Luce Bianca. “Lila, you need to stop this right now!”

“Ladybug!” Luce Bianca clenches her fists. Ladybug shoots a glance at her bracelet, noting how it glimmers. If the akuma’s not there then she can’t think of where else it could possibly be. “Not very smart of you to show yourself like that when you know I want to crush you.”

“I’ve given you chance after chance to forget about your lies and –”

“I don’t want your pity!” Luce Bianca stomps her foot. When the rainbow words shimmer and move with her, Ladybug manages to discern what some of them say. They’re names, most likely of everyone she’s hit; Juleka Couffaine, Max Kanté, Alice Roux, Louis Martin…

“I don’t pity you,” Ladybug says. “I want you to be liked for who you are, Lila. I don’t want you to feel like you need to tell all these lies just to get people to like you.”

“Liar!” Luce Bianca bellows. “You can’t lie to me! I want your Miraculous, Ladybug! I want you unmasked! I want the whole world to know that you’re nothing but a little snake who puts on a cute smile to make everyone think she’s an angel! What would the world think if they knew how you’d treated me when we first met?”

“I already apologised for that,” Ladybug says firmly. “You’re perfectly entitled to not accept my apology, but you don’t get to keep hurting people like you’ve done. Especially with what you’ve done to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Luce Bianca gives a shrill, hysterical laugh. “Her? She’s just as much of a snake as you! Always smiling, rushing to help people, acting like she’s some pure princess and everyone should rush to cater to her!”

“Or maybe you’re so used to lying that you’ve even succeeded at lying to yourself,” Ladybug says. She drops her right hand down to her side and counts down from three; when she reaches zero, she hears faint flute music and a call of “Mirage!” In the blink of an eye, the courtyard is filled with hundreds of Ladybugs and Rena Rouges.

“You think that’ll stop me?” Luce Bianca aims at one of the Ladybug illusions and fires a beam of white light, which makes the illusion ripple out of existence. The way she’d used her left hand – the one with the bracelet – only confirms that the akuma has to be there. “You think you can out-illusion Volpina? I’ll destroy every single one of them and then expose you and Rena Rouge! And I’ll take the Fox Miraculous for myself – it should be mine!”

The courtyard is utter chaos as Luce Bianca and her minions attack. The illusions put up a good fight, jumping and darting out of the way, but it’s only a matter of time before they’re all destroyed, so the heroes need to act fast. Out of the corner of her eye, Ladybug catches sight of the real Rena Rouge joining the fray to aid as a further distraction, while Carapace and Chat Noir edge around to get close to Luce Bianca. Whenever a beam of white light gets too close for comfort, Carapace deflects it with his shield while still guiding Chat Noir by the wrist.

“You ready, kitty?” Ladybug says when Carapace and Chat Noir draw level with her.

“I’m always ready, bugaboo,” Chat Noir grins. “Cataclysm!”

Once his ring is sparking, Ladybug takes over the job of guiding him from Carapace. With the number of illusions now severely depleted and Luce Bianca getting angrier and angrier, Carapace ducks away from Ladybug and Chat Noir to cover Rena Rouge’s back so that she doesn’t get hit. This also has the added effect of infuriating Luce Bianca even more, consequently keeping her attention off Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Follow me,” Ladybug murmurs to Chat Noir, leading him around the edge of the chaos by the wrist. Thankfully, none of Luce Bianca’s minions seem to realise that a Ladybug illusion wouldn’t be guiding a blindfolded Chat Noir, otherwise Ladybug’s plan may have been utterly ruined.

“Enough!” Luce Bianca shrieks. “Give me your Miraculous, you fake fox! Then I’ll take Ladybug and Chat Noir’s for Hawkmoth!”

“Fake?” Rena Rouge says, nimbly leaping over a minion. “How am I the fake one when Ladybug chose me?”

Luce Bianca screams and shoots a series of beams in quick succession. There’s no chance for Rena Rouge to dodge even one of them…and she would have been hit if not for Carapace crying, “Shellter!” to create a glowing green force field that deflects every single beam.

“Now, kitty!” Ladybug dashes forward with Chat Noir while Luce Bianca is throwing her tantrum and focusing on Rena Rouge and Carapace. Luce Bianca seems to realise what’s happening a split second too late, as she whirls to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir just as Ladybug plants Chat Noir’s sparking hand on Luce Bianca’s bracelet.

“No!” As the blackened butterfly escapes from the ruined bracelet, Luce Bianca dives for it and tries to snatch it back. But Rena Rouge and Carapace are there in a heartbeat, each grabbing one of her arms and holding her tightly as she wails and writhes.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma!” Ladybug swipes open her yo-yo and swings it around to gather momentum as she usually does, then tosses it out to catch the akuma. “Time to de-evilise! Gotcha!” She frees the now-white butterfly and waves it off with a, “Bye-bye, little butterfly!”

“This isn’t fair!” Luce Bianca furiously yanks and heaves against Rena Rouge and Carapace’s grips, but they hold on tight. “You’ve ruined everything, Ladybug! You and Rena Rouge! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Not even sparing Luce Bianca a glance, Ladybug retrieves her spray can Lucky Charm from inside her yo-yo, then throws it up in the air and calls, “Miraculous Ladybug!” The healing ladybugs zoom around, reverting all of Lila’s victims to their former selves and fixing the damage in the courtyard caused by the battle with the illusions. Chat Noir beams and looks himself over when the blindfold and spray paint are dissolved along with the effects of Luce Bianca’s exposing beam and he’s back to his usual self.

“White’s never been my colour,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve always been more of a dark, mysterious, dashing guy.”

“You’re a pussy cat,” Ladybug teases, booping him on the nose. Their banter is cut short by Luce Bianca turning back into Lila, whose head darts around to take in her surroundings.

“Did I – Ladybug, was I akumatised again?” she gasps. She looks at Rena Rouge and Carapace, who are still holding her loosely, and then she begins to cry when they release her. “How could I have been so weak? I can’t believe I let Hawkmoth akumatise me again! Oh, I’m so ashamed – you all probably hate me –”

“Drop the act, Lila,” Kim says, crossing his arms. Everyone else in the courtyard is muttering to each other and staring at Lila. “We all saw the video.”

“How do we know that you didn’t want to be akumatised as some form of revenge?” Max says. “We can’t believe anything you say.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Lila.” Ladybug holds out her hand. “You don’t have to lie about us being friends. Everyone makes mistakes –”

“Save the speech!” Lila snarls, batting Ladybug’s hand away. “You’re just trying to make yourself look like the perfect princess in all this! If you really wanted to be friends, then you wouldn’t have humiliated me like you did!”

“That was because you were putting yourself in danger from Hawkmoth,” Rena Rouge says. “And because you threatened two students.”

“I’m not even talking about that!” Lila says. “I’m talking about how you embarrassed me in front of Adrien! How you were so nasty to me, yet everyone thinks that you’re like some goddess!”

“I apologised for that,” Ladybug says. “I acknowledged that I was wrong to react the way I did. But you never acknowledged that you were wrong for deceiving people and claiming to be a superhero when you weren’t. And even if I hadn’t been angry, I still would have called you out, because you’re only endangering yourself when you do that. We can’t allow civilians to put themselves in danger like that, Lila.” Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Rena Rouge and Carapace dispersing the crowd so that there isn’t an audience to this confrontation, and her gratitude for her two friends increases even more.

“She’s only human,” Chat Noir adds. “My lady makes mistakes. We all do. Heck, I’ve made plenty of mistakes.”

“What matters is that you want to fix them,” Ladybug says. “We can offer you chance after chance, but nothing will change unless you want to change. And we don’t pity you, Lila. We sympathise with you. There’s a difference.”

“How?” Lila laughs bitterly. “Either way, you’re still coming from “oh, that poor Lila girl, let’s do the heroic thing and be her friend!” I don’t want your pity!”

“If it was pity then I wouldn’t mean it,” Ladybug says. “I’d be saying it out of duty. But I really do mean it, just like the first time I offered. You don’t need to lie to get people to like you.”

“I couldn’t care less if people like me,” Lila scoffs. “You don’t get anywhere by having people like you.”

“It’s not as though you’re not talented,” Ladybug says. She takes a careful step towards Lila, hoping that she doesn’t spook the other girl. “You’re excellent at crafting stories. You’re charismatic. You’re smart. And I wasn’t lying when I said that I’d like to be your friend. Just because people feel sympathy for you doesn’t mean that they feel sorry for you.”

“Milady, I’m going to transform back,” Chat Noir pipes up.

“So are we,” Rena Rouge adds. It’s just them in the courtyard now, with no audience whatsoever.

“Then you can take the Miraculouses back, Chat Noir,” Ladybug says. “I’m not on a timer, so I’m going to stay here and talk to Lila. And it might be better without others around.”

“I’m not delicate!” Lila growls.

“I never said that,” Ladybug says. “It’ll just feel more equal without my teammates around, is all I’m saying.” Once her fellow heroes are gone, she turns back to Lila, trying to figure out exactly what to say to get her point through this girl’s head.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lila scoffs. “I already told you, I don’t need –”

SLAP.

Lila gasps and reels back, clutching her face, where a red mark in the shape of a handprint is starting to sear itself into her cheek. If she wasn’t so annoyed and furious, Ladybug might be struggling not to be sick with how she had just slapped Lila Rossi across the face; but right now, all she wants is to make this girl see.

“Shut. Up. And. Listen. To. Me,” Ladybug says. “Listen. Don’t just go off on a self-pitying rant. You think I don’t get what it’s like to have no friends? You think that I’m just as popular and respected in my normal life as I am when I’m Ladybug?”

“How could you not be?” Lila spits. “Why else would you be picked as Ladybug?”

“I was picked because I got lucky,” Ladybug says. “I was in the right place at the right time. Listen. I’ve been in the same class with the same people for literally years, and I never had a best friend or a crush or even anyone I was particularly close to until this year. I was friendly with people, but I didn’t have friends. You can be yourself and try your hardest and still not have anyone who really likes you.”

Lila snorts loudly but doesn’t say anything.

“And I know that it can feel like no one will ever like you when that keeps happening,” Ladybug continues. “Putting enough trust in others to let them decide whether they like you for you? That’s one of the bravest things you can do. I’ve felt how you felt, Lila. I’m on your side. I was already on your side when I offered to be friends with you after apologising.”

“You’ve never once helped me,” Lila says. “All you’ve done is make things worse. You know who has helped me? Hawkmoth. He gives me the power I need.”

“Hawkmoth doesn’t care about anyone,” Ladybug says. “As cliché as this sounds, he’s using you. He’s probably said the same thing to everyone else that he says to you. You don’t need superpowers to be strong. I want to help you now.”

“I can’t trust you,” Lila says. “How do I know that you won’t go and make another video about me if I make a tiny mistake?”

Ladybug sighs. “I’m not sorry for calling you out for threatening Marinette and Alya,” she says. “But I am sorry for causing you that pain from making a personalised video like that. The only reason it got to that point is because I know what you’ve done to Marinette. And when someone is upset enough to tell me about being threatened, especially with video proof? I see it as my duty to help that person. It wasn’t to humiliate you, Lila. I was just so desperate to fix the problem and to make sure that Hawkmoth wouldn’t mistakenly attack you to get to me.”

Lila doesn’t say anything. Ladybug can’t tell if she’s cracking, so she keeps going.

“I won’t reject you,” she says and holds out her hand. “Do you think you can trust me and forgive me for hurting you? Can I be your friend for real?”

Lila stares at Ladybug’s hand with an unreadable expression on her face. Ladybug bites her lip, wondering if she’s truly doing the right thing or if she’s only rubbing salt in the wound and making Lila angrier and more bitter.

“I can’t be your friend,” Lila finally says. Ladybug’s heart starts to sink, but it stops at Lila’s next words. “Not yet. But…I can try not hating you.” She reaches out and loosely clasps Ladybug’s hand.

“That’s a start,” Ladybug says with a small smile. Unlike the last time they had interacted, when she had been Chameleon, Lila’s not wearing a fake smile and cheerfully accepting a truce. Ladybug’s still not fully sure, but it does feel like Lila’s at least genuine about this.

“Everyone’s going to hate me anyway,” Lila says when she lets go of Ladybug’s hand. “They all saw the video. So I’m not even sure what the point of this is.”

“I’ll ask Alya to take that video down,” Ladybug says. “I’ll even film another video asking people not to harass you. And you never know. There might be one or two people who still want to be your friend.”

“Not likely,” Lila says, but she’s not screaming hateful things anymore, so Ladybug counts that as a win.

“I have to go,” she says. “Will you be alright? Do you want me to take you home for the rest of the day?”

“No,” Lila says. “I don’t need to make people pity me like that. I don’t need them to like me.” With that, she turns and heads back into the school with her nose in the air. Ladybug watches her go, then heads in the opposite direction and ducks inside an empty classroom to detransform.

“I’m proud of you, Marinette!” Tikki says as Marinette rummages in her purse for a cookie. “It would have been so easy to give up on Lila and condemn her for what she did.”

“I thought about that,” Marinette admits. She finally finds a cookie and holds it out for her kwami. “But then I realised that we’d only be going in circles. She’d get angry, get akumatised, I’d defeat her, she’d hate me more. Part of being Ladybug is taking down hate wherever I see it.”

Tikki beams and grabs the cookie, taking a huge bite out of the sugary treat. “Exactly,” she says. “Do you think Lila was genuine about not hating you anymore?”

“I’m not sure,” Marinette says. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

After the chaos of Luce Bianca, everyone is quiet as they finish off their work in class, deliberately not looking at each other in the wake of exposed secrets. Even Lila is focusing on her work, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze when they look back at her, but also refusing to curl in and look pathetic. It’s such a stark contrast to her previous persona of constantly talking and making herself look small and helpless that Marinette can’t help but wonder which parts of Lila are just acts and which are genuine. But she can’t focus on that right now; if she looks back at Lila one more time, she’s got no doubt that Alya’s going to start asking questions.

When the bell rings for lunch, everyone rushes out of the classroom. Lila’s left at the back of the classroom without so much as a glance spared her way, but she sniffs and looks away when Marinette tries to catch her eye.

“Alright, come on, you guys,” Alya says, shepherding Marinette, Adrien, and Nino away from Miss Bustier’s classroom and down the hall to one that’s just been emptied. The minute the door is locked, she rounds on Marinette and Adrien, hands on her hips.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir,” she announces. “Right under my nose the whole time!”

“I know, right?” Marinette says with a wide, nervous grin. Alya just crosses her arms.

“I have no idea how I didn’t see it,” she says.

“Miraculous magic?” Adrien offers.

“So, like, did you two really not know who the other was?” Nino says.

“Nope,” Marinette says. “We agreed on that for each other’s safety. Especially after what happened on Heroes’ Day when you two knew about each other.”

Alya and Nino wince, but they both sigh and shrug in agreement.

“And even now, it was a total accident, Marinette finding out who I am,” Adrien says. He gives Marinette a very Chat Noir-like grin and slings an arm around her shoulders to draw her in close. Marinette swallows and tries to cool down her flaming cheeks while also glaring at a smirking Alya. “We’ve already agreed that I’m going to ask her out as Adrien, then LadyNoir will be a thing in a few days or so.”

“If you call us that, you’re getting dumped,” Marinette warns. Adrien just laughs and kisses the top of her head, rendering her so speechless that she groans and hides her burning face in his shirt.

“Okay, not that this isn’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, but I’m actually going to be sick if I have to watch more of it,” Alya says.

“Now you know how we feel about you and Nino,” Adrien shoots back. Marinette snorts loudly. “How do you feel about us just walking into the cafeteria like this, bugaboo?”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone wants to see some grand thing from the biggest drama king around,” Alya says.

“Hey!”

“She’s got a point, dude,” Nino snickers. “Chat Noir’s totally dramatic.”

“Really? Even my best friend?” Adrien huffs and steers Marinette around. “Come on, bugaboo, we don’t need them.”

“You really can’t call me that when we’re not transformed,” Marinette says as Adrien unlocks the door and the four of them leave the room and head for the cafeteria.

“Good point.” A devilish grin splits Adrien’s face. “Princess.”

“Oh my god,” Marinette whines, while Alya and Nino laugh loudly. “I swear, I will actually dump you.”

“We all know you’re a big fat liar, Marinette,” Alya smirks. Marinette turns and pokes her tongue out.

When they enter the cafeteria, everyone turns and stares at them, and Marinette has to resist the urge to hide her face again. Although everyone’s gotten used to having Adrien Agreste among their ranks, he’s still a popular celebrity, and so the sight of him with his arm around a girl is triggering a lot of whispers and murmurs around the room as he, Marinette, Alya, and Nino go to line up for their lunch.

“You’d think they’d have something better to talk about,” Alya says when they’ve collected their trays. “Honestly, Adrien, you’re not that cool.”

“Fight me,” Adrien deadpans. “Actually, no, don’t do that. You’d slam me into the ground and then Marinette wouldn’t have her gorgeous boyfriend anymore.”

Marinette makes a high-pitched sound and buries her face in his shirt again at the word “boyfriend”.

“Fine, fine,” Alya says. “Only because Marinette wouldn’t forgive me after all the times she’s cried to me about how pretty your face is.”

“Alya!” Marinette hisses.

“I’ll protect Marinette for you, dude,” Nino says when a group of girls shoot them a particularly nasty look on their way to an empty table. “I’ll be her shield.”

Both Marinette and Alya groan.

“That was terrible,” Alya says.

“And I can look after myself,” Marinette huffs. Just as they’re about to sit down at their table, she catches sight of Lila sitting alone at the edge of the room. Everyone’s clearly giving her a wide berth, judging by how people make an obvious effort to stay outside a certain radius if they have to walk past, and something in her stomach twists.

“Where are you going?” Alya says when Marinette picks up her tray again and heads straight for Lila. Everyone around her stares, and Lila narrows her eyes when Marinette draws near.

“Is this seat taken?” Marinette says brightly.

“Obviously not,” Lila scoffs. “And I don’t need you to come and start pitying me or whatever just because Ladybug told you to. I know you talk to her.”

“Who said this was pity?” Marinette sits down across from Lila and begins to twirl noodles around her fork. “I thought you might want a friend.”

“Yeah, right. After how I treated you? The only reason you’d be doing this is to suck up to Ladybug or whatever.”

“This might be a strange and foreign concept,” Marinette says, “but some people actually do forgive others. I don’t like how people are treating you just because Ladybug stood up for me.”

“What did she think was going to happen when she spoke out like that?” Lila says, but her shoulders seem just a fraction less stiff.

“Uh, Marinette?” Alya says from behind Marinette. “What’s going on?”

“I’m making a friend and I won’t take no for an answer,” Marinette says. Adrien’s the first one to cave, sliding into the seat next to Marinette and smiling at Lila.

“I told you there was no need for lying,” he says.

“Oh, shut up,” Lila snaps. “I already know you’re a smug idiot. You don’t need to open your mouth and prove it.”

“Harsh,” Nino says, but he still sits down next to Lila. “So, what music are you into, dude?”

“Oh, fine.” Alya sits down on the outside, next to Nino. “If Marinette can forgive then so can I.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Lila clenches her fists. “What do you want? People are never nice unless they want something. This isn’t the first school where someone’s tried to make friends with me.”

“But it is the first school where people still want to be friends regardless of whether you actually do know all the people you claimed to know,” Marinette counters calmly. “And I know what it’s like to have no friends. Before I met Adrien and Alya, I had no friends because Chloé would bully me so badly that people didn’t want to associate themselves with me. You know, in case Chloé targeted them too.”

“Sorry about that, by the way, dude,” Nino says. “I shouldn’t’ve let Chloé stop me from being your friend till now.”

Marinette just shrugs and takes another bite of her spaghetti.

“How the hell can you forgive people so easily?” Lila demands. “Everyone in the class turned their backs on you. They made you sit up the back. They wouldn’t be your friend because it would’ve made their lives harder. I threatened you and made people hate you. And you just – forgive. Why? How?”

“Because if I held on to all of that bitterness, I wouldn’t like the person I’d become,” Marinette says. “Just because I forgive doesn’t mean I forget what’s been done. I just don’t cling to it and let it poison me.”

Adrien takes her hand under the table and squeezes it, so she smiles back at him. Around the cafeteria, even more people are whispering at the sight of people actually choosing to sit with Lila, but she tunes them out.

“My parents are going out tonight, so I totally have to babysit Chris,” Nino says. “You guys wanna come and help? There’s Monopoly and Mario Party and unhealthy snacks in it for you.”

“You had me at Monopoly,” Alya says. “I will crush you, little boy.”

“You had me at unhealthy snacks,” Adrien says. “Man, I can’t remember the last time I ate real teenage junk food.”

“I’ll bring some pastries, then,” Marinette grins. “And I know that Chris likes chocolate croissants, so I’ll bring loads of them.”

“An angel has descended from the heavens to grace us with her presence!” Alya announces dramatically, waving her hands in Marinette’s direction. Marinette rolls her eyes but still laughs.

“You wanna come?” Nino says to Lila, who blinks and looks up from her food.

“What?”

“Do you wanna come and hang out too?” Nino says. “My parents don’t care who comes over, so long as the house isn’t totalled.”

“But if you pick Daisy in Mario Party, there will be consequences,” Alya says.

“Alya, you can’t threaten people not to pick your favourite character,” Marinette says.

“Oh, yeah? Watch me, Peach.”

“At least I’m not the one always getting kidnapped by the bad guys in real life.”

Without a word, Lila stands up with her tray and stalks out of the cafeteria.

“What’s her problem?” Alya says.

“She probably doesn’t trust us yet,” Marinette says. “But we’ll keep trying, even if it takes months.”

“And if she still doesn’t like us?”

Marinette sighs. “That’s her choice. But I don’t want to act like she doesn’t deserve another chance if even Chloé can get another chance after everything she’s done.”

“You got a point there, dude,” Nino says, reaching across to high-five Marinette.

“Well, I hope you’re ready to lose to the power of Waluigi tonight, princess,” Adrien says with a grin.

“And Yoshi, when we team up to take down the princesses,” Nino says.

“Bring it on, meme lord,” Marinette says, cracking her knuckles.

[runaway-train-works]

14 & 35 😂😂😂

Bodyguard AU & Bathtub Fic

Louis had thought he’d heard it all in his time from people like this guy, but he’d been mistaken.

“You’re not watching me have a bath.”

Harry frowns. Well, keeps frowning, if you want to be pedantic about it, but the little crease between his eyebrows has deepened so much Louis thinks he might be able to keep loose change in there. “That’s not what I’m trying to do here Master Tomlinson, I’m trying to protect you.”

So he’s going to keep calling Louis that, is he? After all they have been through? “By guarding me while I’m naked?”

The tendon in Harry’s neck quivers in the pause before he answers. “No. The windows are too large in the bathroom and make for an easy target if anyone is watching this location. I have been instructed to keep you here until a suitable safe house has been commandeered and fully swept and I’ve been given the go ahead to move you.”

It’s the answer Louis had been both expecting and dreading. He knows by now how this all works, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. “Noone is going to try and kill me when I’m washing myself.”

Harry pulls his phone out from the black trousers that are still covered in blood from the brutal altercation that morning and begins to thumb at the screen. Louis can’t see from where he’s standing but he thinks Harry’s sending a text message. Harry doesn’t look up as he responds. “You saw what those men tried to do to you earlier, and there is a high price on your head Master Tomlinson. If it were me, that’s exactly when I would make an attempt on your life; when you are at your most vulnerable. 

Louis doesn’t want to think about it, what Harry had to do to protect him. The blood’s not just on Harry’s clothes. It’s on his hands too, and no bath or sink or soap could ever wash that away for either of them now. Harry had quite literally put his life on the line for Louis just hours earlier yet seems completely unaffected. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at what he does. “You’d be waiting until I was naked in the bath before having a pop at me? I think that says more about you than the people after me.”

Harry slips the phone back into his pocket and walks over to the window of the tiny bedroom, pulling at the edge of the closed, heavy curtains enough to peek out, seemingly resolving to not give Louis the satisfaction of an answer. Or maybe he knows Louis doesn’t need one, that Louis is simply using any means he can to deflect from his own anguish at the situation they have found themselves in. 

“I’ll just stink then,” Louis says to his back.

“Suit yourself.”

Louis decides in that moment to make a run for the bathroom door, and almost manages to close and lock it but Harry is too fast, having possibly anticipated the move before Louis even finished the thought process. He shoulders the wooden door back open with an unexpected ease considering Louis is putting his entire weight into it and spins round to grab at him. Within seconds Louis is pinned up against the far wall, both of his arms twisted up against the base of his spine, his wrists in Harry’s unrelenting hold, thighs pressed to the brick surface by Harry’s knees. Louis gives a moment of deliberation to whether it would be worth struggling or even screaming, but knows it won’t get him anywhere worth mentioning. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Harry says into his ear. He’s sounds more frustrated than angry. “You continue to disobey my clear instructions and make my job as difficult as you can.” And therein lies the rub. Louis is just a job to him. Harry wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t being paid to, and handsomely at that, and that thought torments Louis more than the thought of having men out for his head. That the one person he has to put his faith in to keep him alive is doing it for the money, for the possible kudos from unknown figureheads. Louis is suddenly exhausted. 

“Yes. I’ll have a bath and you can watch me. I don’t care. I just need to get the day off me. Please,” he whimpers.

Harry doesn’t watch him. He’s present while Louis bathes and cleans himself of the dirt and sweat accumulated over the previous forty eight hours since all this began, but he doesn’t so much as glance at Louis, choosing to stand at the side of the window and look out, eyes constantly roaming for any possible sign of danger. Harry remains, as ever, steadfast in his professionalism.  

And maybe it’s that, in fact, that torments Louis the most.

[blouisparadise]

As promised, here is the second part to our established relationship bottom Louis fic rec list. Part one can be found here. Happy reading!

1) Give and Take | Explicit | 1837 words

Sometimes Louis just needs.

2) Just A Trim | Explicit | 2260 words

“Harry. Darling. Can you explain to me what I’m looking at, before I rip your throat out through the phone?” “That would be me, holding a braid of hair in my hand.”

Or, the one where Harry gets a haircut, and Louis, along with the rest of the world, loses his mind.

3) Lips Are Like The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 2360 words

Harry licks over Louis’ hole slowly, deliberately, and his tongue is like velvet and Louis’ skin is burning at every junction where Harry touches him and it’s all so good he thinks he might cry. He licks a few more times, moaning softly like he’s relishing the taste of Louis and that’s just, well, fuck.

4) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words

There's really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.

5) He Steps Out, The Crowds Lose Their Minds For Him | Mature | 3022 words

The exact moment Harry feels his resolve break is when he pads into the bathroom one evening, yawning and scratching his arm to see Louis standing in front of the mirror, eyes downcast as he spreads one of his hands out on the slight bump of his tummy, rubbing over the jumper he’s wearing. Which, Harry is pretty sure, belongs to him.

It comes out accidentally. Accidentally, as in he didn't want it to come out yet, but it did. “I want a baby.”

6) Reckless | Explicit | 3028 words

Harry thinks it's criminal, the way Louis looks in his suit, sharp and expensive.

The feeling's mutual, judging by the way that (at his mother's wedding, no less) Louis leans in and says, "I bet you can fuck me without ruining that suit."

Harry does his best.

7) Handprints And Good Grips | Explicit | 3330 words

Harry wants to pull them down and suck him off. Harry wants to never take them off and eat him out over the lace. Harry wants to push them aside and fuck the imprint right into Louis’ body.

8) Painless With Immense Distance | Explicit | 3793 words

“You know when we talked about kinks and stuff awhile back and you said you wanted to try something?” Harry continues with a devious grin. Louis’s a bit lost and he tries to think about exactly what Harry is thinking about which honestly could be a handful of things.

“Prostate massage?” Harry asks like it’s as common as the sky is blue.

9) All In My Mind | Teen & Up | 4305 words

Louis and Harry find out they're expecting, and tell the boys. kind of.

10) With All My Surrendered Hearts | Mature | 4810 words

Louis beams, no, he fucking glows at that. He’s always been gone for this boy, ever since they met at ages fifteen and seventeen, back when they both worked at the Doncaster golf club, with grass-stained knees and evenings spent pushing each other into the ponds. It’s always been one of their quirks to add a bit of poetry. ("Because sometimes I feel like those three words aren't enough," Harry had explained.) Louis feels like he’s holding a flame inside of his ribcage.

Or, the one where they're long distance boyfriends, and Louis rides Harry while wearing his snapback.

11) Folded Up All Pretty (Fit Into You) | Explicit | 5655 words

“Missed me?” Harry laughs into his mouth, and it ought to be awkward with the way Louis’ tongue pushes at his teeth and the stretched out corners of his mouth, but really, it isn’t.

12) Heart Beats Slow (I Wish You) | Explicit | 6011 words

“These,” Louis pauses with a half-eaten toast in his hand and a stale bite of buttery bread still in his mouth, he feels like choking on it, “are girl’s pants. Why would I look good in girl’s pants? Do you not like my current choice in underwear or what?”

Or, the one where Louis loves panties and Harry loves Louis.

13) Want It All The Time, Need It Every Day | Explicit | 6306 words

Louis visits LA a week before the boys head to Australia for On The Road Again.

He and Harry have some catching up to do.

14) That Ugly Ass Yellow Shirt | Explicit | 7502 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2 | Sequel 3

"This," says Louis, holding up a shirt from the box, "is the ugliest fucking shirt I've ever seen."

15) Casting Lines | Explicit | 7554 words | Sequel

Amidst the noise - the dog whining, Jamie's shrieking, Evie's giggles and bird noises, and Daniel asking loudly, again, about ice-skating - Louis leans in to press a kiss to Harry's smiling mouth. "Hi."

Harry doesn't loosen his grip on Evie's ankles where they hang over his shoulders, but he kisses Louis back and murmurs a quiet, "Hey, love."

16) Cease the Day | Explicit | 8195 words

In which 1D Day takes on a whole new meaning.

Instead of a seven hour livestream, the One Direction team deem it more profitable to offer an entire day spent with any one member of the band for the highest bidder. What happens when the same buyer wins both Louis and Harry for a day?

17) Forever, Uninterrupted | Explicit | 8578 words

Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis' bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It's definitely not what he thinks.

18) Spice Up Your Life | Explicit | 9501 words

After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.

19) Anything Goes | Explicit | 10275 words

Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.

20) You Are My Favorite Place | Explicit | 10347 words

It had gutted Harry when he saw the headlines splashed across the gossip rags, the ones proclaiming the house he planned to make their home in LA was a bachelor pad. With both of them doing more producing and writing, Harry knew that they would need a place here so they wouldn't have to travel so much. As soon as he'd seen it and how remote it was, he knew it would be perfect.

It was so much more than some stupid bachelor pad.

Shaking his head, Harry glanced over at Louis. He was smiling, the one that Harry loved the most. His eyes were crinkled and his mouth was stretched wide; he looked so pleased that Harry had to lean over and kiss his temple. “So what do you think?” he asked, pressing the words against Louis's cheekbone. He pulled away to usher him into the house and they dropped their bags in the expansive entryway.

Harry had changed a bit of the decorating since the last time Louis had been there, making it more like the house the two of them shared in London. This one was more open, with more windows and more space for them to be themselves. No interruptions, no looking over their shoulders, just the two of them to break in all the new furniture.

He couldn't wait.

21) Can’t Blame Gravity | Explicit | 11931 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

They have a tradition on their birthdays.

22) We Should Get Jerseys | Mature | 12147 words

Harry is a hockey player, and Louis is his slightly melodramatic boyfriend.

23) Let’s Take the World By Storm | Explicit | 14656 words

Harry lifts his head off Louis' chest to look at Louis' face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

“I don’t know, but our sex life feels a bit boring, ‘sall,” Louis says, completely avoiding eye contact.

“Boring.” Harry says flatly. He doesn’t say anything more, and Louis looks up to see that Harry seems to be mulling it over.

“Yeah, boring," Louis says, and keeps talking before Harry can pipe up. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been dating since X Factor, and now things are starting to drag a bit. We don’t even have the time for handjobs anymore, much less actual sex.”

24) Dreams Can’t Take The Place Of Loving You | Explicit | 15496 words

In which Liam is the go-to ring guy, Niall's relentless, Zayn is family, and Harry and Louis are disgusting.

25) I Would Follow You (To the Moon and Back) | Explicit | 20355 words

Everyone has baggage, some people sleepwalk, some have obsessive exes, and others turn into anthropomorphic wolf-like monsters that destroy furniture and run rampant in the forest. Perfectly normal.

Or the one where Harry and Louis have been dating for six months, Harry is a werewolf, and it's a full moon. This time they're going to get it right.

26) All The Diamonds You Have Here | Not Rated | 21603 words

It hits Louis now, how fucking close to the precipice they’re standing. Or, an au feat. investment banking and children.

27) Love Like Wildfire | Explicit | 21744 words

Louis was an Omega and a Prefect. Harry was an Alpha and a little rascal. They were mates, drawn to each other since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. They worked well like that, or at least they tried, which only made their relationship way more interesting.

28) Sort Your Head And Facedown | Explicit | 26426 words

Harry gets sent to an alternate universe where most everything is the same and most everything has changed.

29) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.