#my ex best friend actually tried to convince me my family is abusive. not just my parents. my whole family

[autism-swagger]

Dude why are all my friends convinced my parents are horrible people 😭😭

[radinclus-not-radqueer]

On "consensual incest"

PT: On "consensual incest" END PT

I know I said this wouldn't be an education account, but as this affected me personally and is something other anti-radqueers struggle to argue against, I decided to briefly explain why "consensual incest" is a lie and how it's almost always harmful.

Let's start this out by explaining that, when you're being hurt, you often don't notice it. Any abuse or grooming victim can tell you that when you're currently being abused, you usually don't recognize it. Even if you do recognize that something is wrong, you convince yourself that it is either normal/it'll get better soon or it's entirely your fault. An abuser rarely ever directly states "I'm abusing you" (and when they do, it's often a sarcastic joke made to make the victim think they're imagining it).

When you're a minor being abused by a family member who lives with you, it is nearly impossible to leave. Because of this, your brain tries to convince you that everything is fine because you have no other option besides staying. On top of this, abusers often follow up abuse with love, gifts, and apologies, pretending that they're going to change and that it actually wasn't that bad. This further manipulates the victim into believing everything is actually just fine - and when you can't physically leave your abuser, your brain is already trying to latch onto anything to make it seem better.

People who support "consensual incest" are probably already skeptical of this because I keep talking about abuse - however, there have been many, many studies that incestual relationships badly affect your mental health and traumatize you.

According to this study in 1983, incest victims are much more prone to drug and alcohol abuse, depression, and intense guilt, and are also at an increased risk of marital problems and abusing their children. It also states that victims will usually have PTSD, which will worsen if they don't receive help.

In this study from 1992, victims of incest were shown to have much higher rates of anxiety, depression, phobias, PTSD, and alcohol addiction.

In this article from 2018, it states that survivors of incest are more likely to report feeling depressed and psychologically damaged than survivors of other types of sexual abuse. They are also more likely to be shamed and shunned when they try to go to others for help.

There are many, many more studies and articles explaining the same thing. If you google "stories from survivors of incest", you can find many stories from people who went through this type of abuse.

You can say that everything is actually fine and you're in a happy, healthy relationship, but as I explained above, it may seem like that, but it is often not the case. If you believe that your partner is an amazing person and would never do that to you: your partner is most likely lying to you. You are probably experiencing love bombing - where an abuser tries to act all sorry and loving to keep their victim trapped in the relationship.

Many victims of incest report that they convinced themselves everything was fine. Ex-radqueer victims (including myself) have, time and time again, talked about how they were encouraged to stay quiet about their abuse because it was "consensual" and they were only grossed out because it's "stigmatized".

I was manipulated by radqueers into pursuing a relationship with my sibling. My sibling and I have always been best friends, partially because we've both been through a lot of abuse and trauma from family members. Because of the abuse I went through, I felt incestual attraction towards my sibling as a trauma response. I was in the radqueer community at the time.

People in the radqueer community offered no help. All they did was tell me that I was an example of how people who went through incest-related trauma can still support and be in happy "consang" relationships. They told me to pursue a relationship with my sibling, because that was just what being radqueer was all about.

My sibling and I briefly dated for a few weeks. I was sent to a mental hospital due to several suicide attempts. While staying at the mental hospital, I realized how awful the community was, and I realized how badly being in an incestual relationship was affecting me. I'd tried to normalize and rationalize everything in my mind, I'd tried to see the best in everyone and do my research before supporting things, but the radqueer and "pro-consang" communities had taken advantage of that and used it to turn me into a living proship fanfic.

We both consented. We both desired a relationship. Neither of us intentionally abused each other. Despite that, we both have trauma from it and may never recover.

I'm in therapy now, and I'm recovering, so don't worry about me. Worry about the young, traumatized kids in the radqueer community who are being manipulated into accepting abuse as "consensual" and "normal". After everything I've typed up here, I think it's as clear as can be that nothing about incest can ever be consensual.

[fridayiminlovemp3]

I have never read colleen hoover but I have flipped thru it starts with us (the sequel) because my friend worked at a bookstore and gave me a damaged copy. People say it ends with us romanticises abuse but from my brief look at the sequel it VERY explicitly (and very clumsily) addresses how the abuse was Bad and shows the character being empowered to break away from it etc etc. Like to the point where it very much felt like the character was just standing on a soapbox giving a speech about it. So I have always wondered without ever intending to read it, if it ends with us really does romanticise abuse or if she actually tries to explore it (poorly because she is not a good writer). Or if maybe she did that in the sequel to try to address the criticisms. Since you have done us all the service of reading the book so that we don't have to, what are your thoughts??

okay i haven’t read the sequel so i can’t speak on that one but i don’t think the book romanticizes abuse, it is very clearly anti abuse and it does make it obvious that what ryle is doing to lily is wrong, but it’s also obvious to me that hoover is in over her head with this book and doesn’t understand how to properly handle the subject of abuse. for example in it ends with us, ryle is an abusive boyfriend and later on husband. he shoves lily down the stairs when he thinks she’s cheating on him (she wasn’t she just kept a magnet and letters from her ex💀), he pushes her onto the ground when she burns dinner, and he attempts to rape her when drunk. this is all (rightly so) portrayed as abusive and he is clearly in the wrong every time. BUT when these things happen his sister allysa tries to convince lily that it’s not his fault because he’s traumatized due to accidentally killing her other sibling as a child, allysa (who is lily’s best friend) is also very fond of her brother despite knowing about his abuse and even names her daughter after him. lily also decides to split custody of their daughter with ryle, which is framed as the right decision, even though she knows first hand that he has anger issues and becomes abusive when enraged. in the end of the book they get a divorce and lily is proud of herself for not staying with an abusive man like her mother did, but she still has 50/50 custody with him, regularly hangs out with him and his family, and her closest friends (who once again know about the fact that he abused her) still hang out with ryle and praise him. in the end we’re left with the conclusion that yes: ryle is abusive and lily was right to leave him but also yes: ryle is still a good man and his sister and best friends will still love and accept him despite knowing this. which doesn’t work and really undermines the message of this story and the abuse that lily went through. she’s meant to be seen as stronger than her mother who couldn’t leave her abusive husband but even she leaves him she’s still friends with him? in conclusion i don’t think colleen hoover meant to write something that sympathizes with abusers but she obviously didn’t put in the full work to understand how certain actions (ie allysa being best friends with both lily and her abuser) would be seen by the audience.

[lilpolliwog]

I came home from my vacation and instantly cried, but I think the difference here is I have at least tried to process things…. I just am so unhappy with everything. I’d like to be in different places in my life right now, and I just am scared I’m running out of time because it feel like my body is slowly dying… 🙄 very contrite of me….

But the demotivation doesn’t make me want to try.

I am moving and a think a change of scenery will help, but I just am convinced a lot of illogical things are true. I’ve been convinced that all my friends dislike me for a while now, and after spending time with them it feels more like a vague feeling. I still feel like it’s not authentic and idk why. Idk why it’s suddenly different and I need an immeasurable amount of reassurance.

I feel like I made a mistake not moving in with my ex at the start of the pandemic. I know I made the right choice because that would of complicated my life and if I’m moving in with a boyfriend it should feel GOOD and it didn’t. It was always a situation ship, and it’s not like I didn’t participate in that narrative either. I don’t think why, and it always felt like I was second best for some reason. I think if you’re at that point in your relationship, moving in is not a good idea. I know I logically made the right choice. My brain is still convinced that my life would be different if that was the case.

It could even be the complete opposite. Or maybe exactly the same, except it was just a bad breakup and I have more money

My mind is always wondering the possibilities, bargaining with myself that I can somehow change how things ended up, but I can’t. No one can.

Sometimes I see myself from the past and it pains me.

So many situations I’ve been on just because I was “being polite” because that’s the best way to avoid conflict sometimes.

The worst thing right now is my family. I had to explain to my mother how the way she talks to me, is actually talking down to me. It sometimes kills me that I don’t think this dynamic will ever change. I just want a family is actually knows me and then loves me. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with them. I feel like I’m a projection screen, and I think it goes as deep as my base line relationship with my sister and mother in relation to each other. My roll as a mediator, as a literal child. Or my roll as a scapegoat. Or my roll as an abuser.

I just can’t believe this is what it is. That I have to deal with this and I can’t just have a normal family that can talk things out. I can’t imagine myself with a normal family because I am holding so much resentment, but it’s because the treatment is never ending. It feels like my relationship with them is surface level and just there to fill a roll. What if I’m not wrong? One thing that always killed me when my father died if I felt like I lost the only person who knew and loved me conditionally, but it was because he accepted my mistakes and did what he could to help anyways.

[anonxconfession]

{A Privileged Ex}

{Not my story}

So a number of years back I was dating this woman who I'll call Britney. Britney and I (NonBirany) dated for 4 and a half years and in that time I discovered what the horrors of misogyny can do to a person. Britney grew up with Republican parents and a brother who was always on drugs and I don't mean weed. Her parents constantly favored her dead beat brother to the point of "running out of money" but not actually because they live in a huge house that they can still afford and they go on luxurious trips to other countries.

Anyway so I felt like I needed to help her in any way that I could, thinking that because of her obvious abuse and the fact that she old stories of being SAd and her family not believing her I felt for her very deeply. This caused me to miss all the red flags in our relationship.

I thought that because she'd suffered abuse that she figured out the system she lived in was inherently abusive and that she wanted out of it. I was wrong. Not only did she claim to just "forgive" her abusers but she also claims she forgave her rapists. At the time I let it be because it was her truama and she needed to heal however she felt best. This only changed when she started trying to force me to forgive MY abusers and would frequently guilt and gaslight me into forgiving the woman who nearly starved me to death. I realize now that this poor woman had been brainwashed into thinking that this toxic positivity was the proper healthy way to deal with abuse and her cognitive dissonance was so thick that nothing I said ever made it through to her that this was not healthy and that her mindset only benefited her abusers. She didn't like that I challenged her in that way and would turn around and call me the toxic one. Claiming I abused her when all I ever did was try to get her away from abusers.

At some point I realized there was nothing I could do for her and I debated breaking up with her. Especially since I did everything in this relationship and she did absolutely nothing. I carried her to where she is today and when I needed her help in return she broke up with me and abandoned me.

I was heartbroken for a long time before discovering I was Ace and aro. I was happy to be free of her but she still wants to be friends. I'm at a loss because I would love to continue to try and help her but she's not seeking therapy because she doesn't think anything is wrong and I'm tired of playing therapist to a woman who has more money than I might ever have and yet she still doesn't even listen to me. Sure, eventually I can convince her to stop doing certain things. But she always ends up back where she started then gets up set when I don't see how much she's "changed".

I'm so tired of being her babysitter that I happily welcome the fact that she hasn't spoken to me in weeks. I want to let her go but I don't want to abandon her either because, frankly, she's not strong enough to survive on her own. So right now I simply welcome the silence and try to advise her when I can but I feel like this not only isn't fair to her because I no longer even enjoy speaking with her but also it's unfair to me who just feels like a therapist at this point.

Any time I've tried exiting the relationship in the past she'd always hunt me down via my other social media to try and force me to talk it out. She only starts to panic when I want to leave so I'm tempted to delete all my social media before leaving our shared discord server and exiting the friendship forever.

I'm just tired of being a therapist to a brat who says "life never changes suddenly" and scolds me for thinking so when literally in the span of a few hours my own mother went from alive to dead during a very sudden heart attack that her doctors were not expecting. She knew this and yet still said that to me.

Right now she's in the middle of moving so I'm think after she moves in with these new friends of hers I'm going to quietly ghost her. Not that this mildly stalkerish person wouldn't try and hunt me down demanding an explanation but I need to stand my ground this time. I don't owe her anything especially since I carried her privileged ass to where she is today and she acknowledges none of it and still forces this toxic positivity onto me.

Fucking pray for me man

[faithxfatality]

1/16/23

2:47 am

Dear Best Friend,

I know you’re sad right now. Sad being perhaps the most minimizing word I can use for this.

You’re in pain. You feel like your chest is collapsing. Like you want to crawl out of your skin. Like you’re made of glass and slowly every part of you, every inch of you is breaking painstakingly slow.

After everything that has happened in 2022, I know. I know everything about you and yet, I feel as if I don’t know you. As if we haven’t lived together for almost 25 years. As if you aren’t the voice in my head. I feel as if we are two different people in the same body, constantly fighting each other.

You lost your daughter. You lost the person you thought was meant to be your forever person. Your mother’s side of the family showed themselves in their true light. It was truly the worst year of your life. Your childhood was a cakewalk compared to this.

Baby. Your pain. The weight of the world. The wrong tone and you break instantly. Your mere existence is embarrassing. TO YOURSELF. You’re ashamed of yourself. You tried to convince yourself that you’re the hottest, most amazing, and perfect human on the planet. That if people liked you actually, they would drag you out themselves. They would make effort to get you out. But since they didn’t, obviously they’re this and that and fake and blah blah blah. I get it babe. I do. And yet, for some reason, you get embarrassed when people talk to you. When people acknowledge you. When someone raises their tone at you. When you talk about your likes and dislikes. When you talk about your feelings. When you.. exist. How can you be a walking contradiction?

Quite simply, mi amor, you are deeply shattered. Broken. Every day you wake up completely crumbling at the thought of your very existence.

Do you realize how abnormal that is?

That there are actually people that exist and they can wake up without wanting to go back to sleep. That they can actually GO to sleep?

There are people who live completely normal lives. Who haven’t lived the 3 different life times you have. Who haven’t dealt with a parents divorce, watched their mom get hooked on meth and heroin, had to take care of their younger siblings, got abused, raped, had to watch their mom’s boyfriend lurking in the corner since 13 and then confess to wanting to fuck as soon as you turned 18, walked into their ex’s apartment to see his mom and sister smoking crack, lived in their car just so they didn’t have to live in their hometown then move into hotels until they could afford their first apartment then try to upgrade to a townhome only to have their roommate not pay rent and drag them down the stairs after same roommate watched them drink themselves into oblivion and do drugs because their life can’t seem to be fine. Some people don’t lose two children within the span of 4 years, giving birth to one only to have their beautiful daughter die in their arms at the young age of 2 weeks because they had some freak chromosome disease.

But look. You are still somehow here.

Even after all those years of attempting suicide and being locked in mental facilities. 11 attempts. Didn’t think you’d make it to 20. And I still hear you say you don’t think you’ll make it to 30. Do you know how heartbreaking that is to hear? After everything I’ve done to protect you or try to heal you. I tell you “don’t jump into that relationship” and your heart goes “let’s go fucking skydiving without a parachute because this person is definitely going to catch me.”

You. Don’t. Need. Anyone. To. Catch. You.

You need to catch yourself. You need to realize no one will have you like you have you. No one will die next to you. We aren’t born into this world alone but we do die alone. So why put in work into a temporary relationship while you’re broken when you can put in work to a permanent relationship with yourself?

I. Know. You.

I know the sounds you make impulsively. I know the conversations you have inside your head. I know you talk out loud to yourself because it helps you think better. I know that when you get nervous, you pick at that uneven skin patch on your thumb. I know that you will buy a whole bag of Doritos just to lick the seasoning off and not to eat the chips. I know that you like lime salt in your corona and that you love lime in your corona because you think everything tastes better with lime. Rice, tacos, guacamole, salad.. I can go on. You bite once into those lime green spicy peppers before putting the juice on a salad or pizza.

My point is…

You need to heal. As someone who deeply cares about you, about us, you can’t go around making empty affectionate remarks towards people. You can’t go around being embarrassed for existing. You can’t go around feeling like you’re gonna fall apart at any second of the day. You can’t go around being mad at people for not fighting hard enough for you when you don’t fight hard enough for you. Sure, you’re right about some of those people and them not caring. That is okay. That doesn’t mean all people are like that. You over share so much with people who simply don’t have the emotional capability to handle all the information you give them. And I’d be lying if I said your friend was wrong about you liking attention. But it’s not the fact that you like it. It’s the fact that no one pays any mind to you. Or so you feel. You have so much locked up so tightly inside of you that it’s effecting your views and relationships with yourself and people. You are worth loving. You are worth time and energy. But only if it’s coming from you. You don’t need to go to the gym or do some crazy things to drastically change your life. You need peace. Unconditional love. Quiet. You don’t need to figure it out in one night. One month. One year. We are all humans. Some people are 70, 80+ and finding new things to love about themselves or finding new hobbies.

Take a break. Take a breath. You are my everything. You are all I have.

So let’s stop fighting. Please. I deserve to be loved correctly. You deserve to be loved correctly. We are worth it.

Please. Come back to me.

[sorcerobe]

Post Mortem

I really do not like to talk about my relationship with my ex, my accuser, because I refuse to let what I went through define me, but the truth is that it was an abusive relationship and I was the victim. My ex was demanding and controlling and repeatedly berated, humiliated, and isolated me. She broke down my psyche over years until I was unable to make any decisions or take any actions without her explicit direction. I was completely reliant on her to tell me what to do and completely unable to think for myself. It got to the point that shortly before she left me, I couldn’t even select a youtube video to watch together without bursting into tears from the stress of having to make a decision and the worry that she would judge me for it. I would spend hours in the bathroom just crying and trying to put myself together to face her in a positive way. she repeatedly manipulated and controlled my behavior with threats of breaking up, self harm or even suicide if I didn’t conform to what she demanded of me. 

I moved to a country where I knew nobody and didn’t speak the language just to be with her and keep her safe. She wounded her hand and went to work without stopping the bleeding, got so drunk that she vomited and collapsed in a public bathroom and very nearly jumped in front of a train if not for my begging her to reconsider over the phone. This was when I promised to live with her. I took care of her cats for two years. I spent hours thoroughly cleaning our apartment every day at her request. I cooked meals for us almost every day. I did all of this gladly, I was genuinely glad that I was with her and could do these things for her. But my efforts were never enough and lead to constant berating by my ex. 

I have a skin condition that makes me break out in hives in response to humidity and she was convinced that I was actually covered in an invisible fungus and was spreading it over the apartment despite a total lack of evidence of this, and to combat this for months alongside cleaning she required me to take multiple daily showers and spray myself all over with hydrogen peroxide, which is a mild bleaching agent. I think the period where I was doing this has caused permanent damage to my skin, but I went along with it because I wanted her to feel safe.

She was convinced that everyone in our friend circle was one step away from “betraying” her at every turn. Even the most innocuous actions would be interpreted as proof of this and nothing I could say or show would convince her otherwise, and she did her best to preemptively destroy any friendship I had because of this. This is not even to get into the way she tried to take over my career. I could fill pages and pages with anecdotes but it’s pointless. At this point people will believe what they believe.

When her career in Japan didn’t pan out because she was too sick to work, we moved back in with my family in Toronto. My parents were growing concerned with the relationship as they could see what it was doing to me, but they made every attempt to accomodate her needs and were nothing but helpful. I loved her and tried to do everything I could to be what she wanted but I just wasn’t able to do it. I wasn’t able to quit my career as a game developer as she demanded. I wasn’t able to abandon all of my friends & family as she demanded. These were all things that she saw as a requirement for us to continue our relationship, and ultimately they were why she left me. And, as best I can discern, because I have still not abandoned these aspects of myself, they are why she continued to try to quite literally ruin my life. She wanted to ensure that fight knight never came out, she wanted all of my years of work to amount to nothing to prove to me that I was nothing without her.

It’s been over two years since we separated, and almost a year now since she made her accusations in an attempt to ruin the launch of my game. unfortunately  her actions opened a lot of old wounds that had only just begun to heal. I know her to be someone who never lets go of a grudge to anyone who she believes wronged her, and in her mind, truth doesn’t seem to matter, as long as people “get what they deserve”. And she’s surrounded herself with people who enable that behaviour and never push back on it in any way. I can identify this easily because I used to be one of the people in her circle doing just that. I don’t hate those people. I understand the situation they’re in. They want to believe that she is a good person, that she��s just had three decades of incredible bad luck and all she needs are some real friends to turn her life around. I wanted to believe that too, more than anything. I put my life on hold for almost three years and gave her everything I had to try to prove that to the world.

I genuinely don’t want anything bad to come her way. I hope she gets the help and support she truly needs to move on from this and I hope she finds happiness. But this is not that. This is pure vindictive malice. It’s completely unjust and wrong. I am a flawed human being like anyone else on the planet but I did not do the things she accused me of, and she knows this. I have proven that she’s lied repeatedly about everything she claims about me. She repeatedly opportunistically changes her story in ways that contradict herself and the evidence to try to keep up this charade, and she knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t care, she thinks I deserve this anyways. 

Well, I don’t deserve it. I refuse to bend even a single degree to the pressure of people with nothing better to do with their lives than to try to ruin mine. I am innocent.

Thank you for reading.

[erythristicbones]

Short Story Masterlist!

This is a collection of every bit of OC writing I've done for the universes my original stories exist in. If you're looking for the masterlist of my actual projects, try here! Every one of the stories will be linked to both its Google doc AND the blog post, should you wish to reblog it.

Each story will contain a short description, as well as a content warning AND a word count. Feel free to reblog this, the stories themselves, or even send in asks about them if you wish to! If you're looking for the shorter excerpts I post, try searching the "my writing" tag on this blog C:

Tales of the Lady Red

you're the reason my heart's been idle

Cassandra muses on her name and it's meaning. (CW: child abuse and suicidal ideation)

Characters: Cassandra

Word Count: 814 words

Title From: idle hearts - esbie fonte

[Blog Post]

Of half-hearted reasons why we'll only be friends

The last conversation two exes have before one of them dies. (CW: brief mentions of child abuse)

Characters: JoAnna, Cassandra

Word Count: 1,283 words

Title From: rory - foxing

[Blog Post]

brighter as i burn

Luca's inclusion with the Red Lady's crew isn't a smooth transition, but he's not alone. (CW: mentions of child abuse and death)

Characters: Luca, Elijah, Gaeul

Word Count: 1,457 words

Title From: brighter than the sun - brick + mortar

[Blog Post]

They Sing Of Fireflies

Modern Day Caine

Firefly gives Monty a terrible solution to a problem no teenager should have to face. (CW: fratricide, drowning)

Characters: Firefly, Monty, Tasha, Chase

Word Count: 890 words

Title From: modern day cain - IDKHOW

[Blog Post]

(note: this is the oldest story of the bunch, and will be going through some major plot refurbishments sometime soon)

I wanna be worthy

Monty makes a deal with the devil. (CW: none)

Characters: Monty, Mirage

Word Count: 1,243 words

Title From: my ugly - cloudfodder

[Blog Post]

And Haunting Their Footsteps

Firefly runs away for eleven years and their twin is left to pick up the pieces. (CW: unintentional deadnaming)

Characters: Istaqa, Firefly, Monty

Word Count: 1,359 words

Title From: boys club - ivory hours

[Blog Post]

The Balance We Broke

Speaking to your childhood best friend after five years of silence isn't easy, especially if you're an asshole. (CW: death mentions)

Characters: Firefly, Monty

Word Count: 1,074 words

Title From: blue light of the flame - dar willaims

[Blog Post]

when the jury is done

Tien tries really hard to convince the Bounty Hunters attempting to kill her to stand down. (CW: abuse mention, violence)

Characters: Tien, Nevada, Tasha, Firefly

Word Count: 2,447 words

Title From: underworld - CYPRSS

[Blog Post]

Momentum

i don't think this is me

Josephine kills the Wyvern, but not before it gives her a gift. (CW: creature death, gore, suicidal ideation)

Characters: Josephine

Word Count: 600 words

Title From: faust, midas, and myself - switchfoot

[Blog Post]

if i saw a way out

Josephine's descent into villainhood, as told from her perspective. (CW: death, abuse, suicidal ideation)

Characters: Josephine, The Valkyrie, Ruska

Word Count: 1,565 words

Title From: blue obsession - geographer

[Blog Post]

Sideshow

i'll rest easy when it's written in the moonlight

Fiona has never really understood the appeal of stargazing, but Bronwyn convinces her to try it out anyways. (CW: none <3 literally the fluffiest thing ive ever written)

Characters: Fiona, Bronwyn

Word Count: 1,125 words

Title From: breathe - dom fera

[Blog Post]

Bound

Bound

Literally just the precursor to the whole story. The last time Ciielyn sees her family before they're murdered. (CW: very brief mentions of child abuse)

Characters: Ciielyn, Silver, Quincey, Arlo, Laz, Warner

Word Count: 2,118 words

Title From: not from a song, for once lol

[Blog Post]

[no title]

Ciielyn catches one of the people who helped to murder her family. (CW: gore, mild mentions of torture + blood)

Characters: Ciielyn

Word Count: uhhhh, under 300 words?

[cassafra5]

Where Have I Been?

Hey everyone,

It’s been a long while since I’ve made an address about what’s been going on with me and why I’ve had difficulty posting. It’s felt weird being on this site with the large elephant in the room being “what happened to you?” After having made addresses previously explaining a couple of rough experiences, I felt too ashamed to mention something even worse. It felt awful to post something after more than a year of nearly no activity, but I feel like it’s been severe enough to warrant this. I had also been requested not to speak originally because certain parties were worried about becoming “pariahs” on here, but I am writing this post to clear the air and to explain what has happened by my own account.

It’s been more than a year since I escaped an incredibly abusive relationship and left New York. After having lived there for three years, it has taken me quite a while to begin recovering from everything that has happened since 2016 until recent. During this time, my spouse and I were used by his family as caretakers for his grandmother, and we were also threatened with homelessness as his family considered taking the condo we lived in. The mounting stress caused him to start lashing out and to begin drinking, and his behavior grew increasingly erratic. For more than 3 years, I lived in a home where every door was broken to get to me when I tried to get away, and every wall in the house was left with a hole or a dent. I was forced to live under horrible conditions, but when I reached out for help about the abuse, multiple people antagonized me, shunned me, and waved away my concerns because “it’s not like he hits you every day.” My mental and physical health suffered greatly, and I still have lapses in my memory from that time because of just how dire my circumstances became.

Inevitably, I had to leave and was “helped” by some coworkers who, unfortunately, took my situation as a means of having a personal crusade, and thus exacerbated the situation further. Police were involved and I had to endure literally running away with what I could carry. Our divorce only just finalized. A majority of my belongings are still in New York, as I only carried back what I could scramble together while I had the police with me, as well as what was sent to me to try to convince me to come back. At this point, I don’t expect to get my remaining belongings back.

My ex is very unhinged and not well. It is harmful and counterproductive for me to be in contact with him or to involve myself any further with him. That being said, I would appreciate that anyone reading this not reach out to him, if you know who he is, as it may cause further incidents that I do not want. This address is mainly for my own recovery to help me move on with my life, and to explain why I’ve been so inactive. Despite it all, I want him to grow as a person and move on with his life as well.

During our separation, my ex involved a Tumblr user that has commissioned me multiple times. He effectively used this person as a means of getting information about me and to put me in a hostage situation – stating multiple times that if I didn’t speak to him, he would go through this person. I fought with my ex multiple times to try and get this person removed from our personal issues, but repeated attempts to warn this individual did not work. I excused this user’s behavior multiple times because they are very young and naïve, and for a while I assumed they just didn’t understand the situation enough to see how much they were hurting me and furthering the abuse. However, I was then made aware that this person was taking commissions from my ex and making decent money off of him. Even more egregious, they were also giving my ex information about me on who I was hanging out with, what I was currently doing, my day to day schedule, etc. I actually had to argue with this person over my safety and privacy, only to get “but I’m making money” as an excuse for them to continue selling my information. To say this was a breach of my confidence and trust is an understatement, and I cannot explain how violated and outraged I felt when I found out that a follower I was trying to protect had blatantly chosen to stay in the middle of my messy divorce and profit off of my mentally-ill ex while spying on me.

In LA I had a rough time adjusting. I did not have a support system to come back to and unfortunately I realized just how quick some people are to take advantage of someone in my situation. I have ultimately learned that I can’t try to understand people like that nor give them the benefit of the doubt. Throughout my time here on Tumblr, I have met some wonderful people such as @kirain who I’ve become best friends with, and who actively helped me escape the situation I had been in. But I’ve also discovered that some people don’t see me as a person worth basic common decency and respect. I’ve literally had users reach out to me just to get the details and gossip for their own amusement, or to either one-up me or stroke their egos over their own successful relationships, which has hurt me immensely. I even had a nightmare where my ex found me and chased me down, and when I reached out to the person he’d turned against me, the only response I got was, “Well, technically I just commission you, so I’m more of a client than a friend, so you shouldn’t be angry.” This person continued to take my ex’s money and profit off of everything that happened after I cut contact, and I don’t have the words to explain how absolutely nonsensical this entire situation seems to me.

I have cut off both individuals from my life and, while I don’t want to jinx it, I am doing much better. It’s been very difficult, but I’ve been recovering and have made great strides. I’m fixing up my house and making it my own after years of feeling like I couldn’t unless my ex allowed me to. I am working and learning in a new profession and I’m finding people who I can really feel are friends, and even more so. It’s been very night and day to be around people who respect and care about my wants and needs, and to have my autonomy back. I no longer have that feeling of being dipped in acid, which is exactly how I felt in New York.

Getting back into drawing and expressing myself is a challenge and something I’m slowly trying to revive. I do really appreciate all of your patience and kindness. Some things I used to draw are a bit difficult but I am slowly getting better.

To my ex and to the follower mentioned, I would ask that you refrain from contacting me or retaliating. I do still have videos, screenshots and other things that I have kept. If I am attacked for making this post, I can and will release them to corroborate my story. All I want is to be left alone, and I should not be silenced and muted because of you fearing repercussions for your actions.

[votederpycausemufins]

idk how to continue this one but i also don’t want to leave it just sitting forever so it may be a mess but i’m posting it anyway. think up your own endings or continue it or something.

it’s essentially a timeline divergence from War in Hermittown, so its again watcher!grian, avian!grian, hermit!tommy and triplet au.

hermit!tommy is from @petrichormeraki and this triplet au is mainly based on @strawberrylemonz ’s work.

For the first time since Tommy’s death, Tubbo finally had something to hope for. After some begging and pleading and proving he wasn’t going to do anything bad, Techno agreed to help the teen out with attempting to summon Tommy’s ghost.

Ghostbur was there as they worked as Tubbo thought having a ghost helping out would make things more likely to work. They set up a type of summoning platform, not quite sure how it would work and troubleshooting as they went. They all froze as Philza walked in, just coming to visit Techno. “What’s going on here?”

“Uh, we’re trying to summon Tommy’s ghost.” Tubbo answered feebly under Phil’s gaze.

He looked around at the mess they had made and the summoning platform they had created. “Really? Did you think this was going to work?” Philza asked, making Tubbo look away, feeling ashamed. “Obviously you need soul torches instead of regular ones. And the center should be cobble since it’s his favorite block.”

With the four of them working together, then managed to complete the platform and Tubbo activated it. The torches suddenly blazed taller, the blue flames nearly turning white. Energy filled the air and in the center of the platform, purple magic swirled until Tommy was there, curled up in a ball in the middle.

Before any of them could get out of the shock of Tommy being there, he shifted and grumbled. “Ugh… fucking put your wing back G. this place has no fucking insulation.” His hand blindly grabbed the air before he finally sat up. “Wait, what the fuck?”

Tubbo was the first to break the silence. “Tommy!”

Tommy looked over and his eyes lit up seeing his friend. “Tubbo?” He was hugged by his friend. “Where the hell are we?”

“We summoned you back! And I guess it went pretty well since it also brought you back to life.”

“Back to life? Tubbo I didn’t di- wait we?” Tommy pulled away from the hug and saw Ghostbur, Techno and Philza. “Oh. Tubbo, did you bring me back to the smp?” Tubbo nodded. “And do you have a way to send me back?”

“What? No! Why would you want to go back?”

“Tubbo, I didn’t die, I ran off. Some people found me and took me in. Fuck, when G realizes I’m missing things aren’t gonna go well.”

“Tommy.” Philza started to speak but Tommy stopped him.

“No, you don’t get it. If he realizes I’m gone, he might come here and overreact and might hurt you guys.”

Tommy watched as they all glanced at each other. “Tommy, what kind of person did you end up with?” It was Techno that spoke. And before Tommy could answer his oldest brother, more purple magic swirled, though not at the summoning platform. 

Tommy gave out a slight curse and Philza spread his damaged wings to protect Techno and Tubbo as someone appeared. Philza immediately recognized the signs of a Watcher, though the lack of a mask was different. “Tommy.”

“Heeeey Grian. Let me explain. No one’s at fault. I’m fine.”

“You disappeared.”

“Yep, just some people worried about me. Thought I was dead or something.”

Philza readied a weapon the moment the Watcher moved but wasn’t able to do more. Tommy was suddenly captured by the Watcher and he didn’t even try to escape which worried Phil even more.

“And you think I wouldn’t assume the same when you were suddenly gone?” The Watcher then looked down at the summoning platform and broke it. “Now let’s go home, ‘dad’ is going to be worried when he notices we’re both gone.”

“You’re not taking him anywhere Watcher.” Philza spoke, now ready to fight and not just protect. Techno also looked prepared for battle though his dad still tried to keep him back. “Tommy’s my son and he’s going to stay here.”

The Watcher looked over at Philza and the three behind him. They looked familiar. Possibly from the MCC tournaments. “Ah, so you’re the ones Tommy has mentioned. Well, even more of a reason to take him away.”

“Please, don’t take Tommy!” Tubbo managed to push past Philza. The hardcore player tried to stop them, but the teen managed to dodge his hands. “He’s my best friend. I don’t want to lose him again.”

The Watcher looked down at Tubbo, tilting his head slightly. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth. He’s big T.”

Philza managed to pull Tubbo back when he saw the Watcher’s eyes glint. “Don’t you dare try to take anyone else. I know what you Watchers do.”

The Watcher frowned. “I don’t think you do. Or you do and you deserve what’s happening to you. Based on the horror stories Tommy has told, I think it’s the latter.” Tommy tried to complain about what the Watcher said but was shushed. “Now, we can always change things, but it looks like Tubbo should be coming with me. You’ve lost your rights to children.”

Philza could do nothing as magic pulled Tubbo next to the Watcher. But he was still able to attack. It was timed just right and as the Watcher tried to leave, he was right there and it pulled him along.

Techno tried to follow along but was too late and just stood where the four now missing people had just been.

When they arrived on the other side, Grian was the only one with a graceful landing. Tommy did okay, but wasn’t used to it. Tubbo and Philza ended up completely face planting on the ground though.

“I didn’t mean to bring you along.” Grian addressed Philza. “I’ll have to take you back before-“ his communicator started ringing. “Nevermind. Hiiii X. No everything’s fine. Tommy just got vaguely kidnapped back to his old world. Yeah. Well I brought a friend of Tommy’s with me. Well they just managed to come along. Yes of course I’ll take him back. Xisuma are you actually asking me to abuse my Watcher powers?”

Before Grian could say anything more, Philza grabbed onto Tommy and Tubbo and started pulling them into the nearby jungle. He gave a shout and started to run after them, but was distracted by the call he was on and was easily tripped up.

“Phil Phil Phil Phil Phil!” Tommy repeated as he tried to pull away. “Phil c’mon we can’t just wander through the jungle! I’m sure if you just talk with Grian he won’t take you back, though X might need convincing.”

“No Tommy. That’s a Watcher. I don’t know how much it’s told you, but they’re dangerous and-”

Tommy dug his heels into the ground. “Dangerous? What? No Grian is, well he’s maybe a bit more dangerous because he’s a Watcher but he’s a pretty chill dude. He doesn’t really use his powers or anything even though he probably could.”

“And what about the other Watcher? You said it was named X?” Philza managed to tug Tommy along a bit further.

“X isn’t a Watcher, he’s an admin. Grian’s the only- look can we just go back and explain it when we’re not running?!” This time Tommy stopped harshly enough and pulled back enough that the avian lost his grip and Tommy was able to get away. He started back towards where they had come from, causing Tubbo to also pull away from Philza.

Phil attempted to grab Tubbo, but he was already running off. He tried to follow along, but ended up moving too fast and tangling himself up in vines. By the time he was free, neither of the teens were anywhere in sight and the hardcore player had to wander aimlessly in the jungle.

He was in a place with absolutely no landmarks and at this point Philza was sure he was just going in circles. The place also had enough shade that some mobs spawned, and dealing with them made him feel even more lost as the small fights left him turned around. Finally, he started going perfectly straight, ignoring any mob he saw and mining away anything in his way. There was no way he could get lost doing that.

It worked perfectly until he broke through a hill instead of going over it. Phil mined right into a cave and there was the surprised shriek of someone who seemed to be hiding there. The hardcore player’s eyes met with the screen of a computer monitor, a face displayed on it. Before he could really react to that, it moved away, making him notice it was attached to a body. It turned a corner and there was the sound of it colliding with something out of Phil’s view.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone broke in!”

Philza paused at the young voices. The first sounded like they could be around Tommy or Tubbo’s age, but the second one sounded much younger.

“Who was it? Scar? If so he probably just crashed a few too many times and needs a place to rest.”

“No! That’s the problem! I don’t know who it is!”

Philza paused, having been slowly approaching the voices. He reached the corner but didn’t look around it just yet. “Then perhaps they are dressed up. I’m sure there is a reasonable ex-” they stopped speaking as they turned the corner and saw Philza. Phil blinked upon seeing another screen faced being and it responded similarly. “Oh, I see. This really is someone new.”

The first one came around the corner and immediately clung to the second. “Who are you!” It spoke, seeming much more confident while next to its larger twin.

Philza stared at the two of them, thoughts about why they were here, what they were and what they knew ran through his head. But he did eventually answer them. “My name is Philza. What about you two?”

“My name is Grumbot and this is Jrumbot.” The taller- by their names Phil assumed they were robots -spoke. “May I ask what you are doing in here now?”

“Well, got a bit lost. Me and my family were kidnapped and brought here and I’m trying to find them again so we can go home.”

“Kidnapped?” The smaller robot asked before he lit up with an idea. “Evil X! He probably did it!”

The hardcore player gave a small sigh of relief. It seemed these two were against the Watchers in this world. “Yeah, I remember that name. Now we got split up in this jungle. There were three of us. Tommy ran off first and Tubbo went after him.”

“Wait, Tommy and Tubbee?” Jrumbot asked, now looking very confused. “But Tubbee’s here and Tommy’s with dad.”

Before Phil could ask more questions, Grumbot made a sound akin to clearing his throat. “Jrumbot, a diamond if you would? It should help us.” the hardcore player watches as a diamond was handed to the taller robot and he placed it into a slot on his monitor. “I see. You are Philza, a former king and father to a total of four sons, adopted a fifth, and have three grandsons.”

“I- wait three? Wait no how do you know this?” Philza asked, stunned, but he got no answer as Grumbot turned to Jrumbot.

“Can you call dad? I’m sure this is much more important than whatever he’s doing.”

Jrumbot nodded and pulled out a communicator. Philza wanted to move or speak but he just felt frozen. Was their information wrong? They didn’t know who he was a minute ago and suddenly they claimed to know more than he did. Or were they really right and- his thoughts were cut off as Jrumbot started to speak.

“Daaaad. Grum and me were playing and someone broke into our cave and we’ve never seen him before but Grum knows stuff about him and says you need to come here cause it’s really really really important.”

“Oh! Perfect! I’m actually looking for some new people!” Philza recognized Grian’s voice coming through the phone. It shocked him and he almost yelled at the phone but then a second voice came through it.

“What do they look like? And don’t say they’re wearing green since they both wear green. Do they look old or young, what color’s their hair, tell me stuff like that?”

“Tommy?” Philza spoke and the phone was quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay, Grian, you head there, I’ll keep looking for Tubbo.”

“Tubbee is here!” Jrumbot spoke into the phone, earning a laugh from Tommy.

“I’m sure he is, but someone else named Tubbo instead of Tubbee is lost in the jungle.”

“Oh, okay!” the small robot said happily before hanging up the phone.

Philza suddenly grabbed the two robots and pulled them towards the opening he had made. “Come on, we can’t stay here. The person you just called is the one who kidnapped us and for some reason Tommy thinks they’re safe to be around. It seems like you two think the same.”

“But he is safe.” Jrumbot said, letting himself be dragged, though he did pull away briefly to untie a lead and hold it, a bee now following behind them. “He’s our dad! And he didn’t kidnap Tommy!”

“I’m sure that’s what he wants you to think.” Phil continued to pull them along, glad at least for the lack of resistance from the two of them. “He’s a Watcher, and those are dangerous. They mess with worlds and-”

He wasn’t able to say more as Grian landed in front of him. He was surprised to see the Watcher wings looked more natural like an avian’s wings, but the rest of him looked similar enough for Phil to recognize him. “Dad!” Jrumbot pulled his arm away, leaving Phil trying to grab him again, but instead he grabbed the lead holding the bee that was being pulled along. The sudden tension made the small robot fall over.

Philza pulled Jrumbot back to him and pushed both him and Grumbot behind them, once more using his damaged wings as a shield.

“What are you doing with my kids?” Grian spoke, sounding serious.

“Protecting them from you.” Philza spat out.

“Prote- You’re the one they should be protected from. Tommy didn’t mention a lot of people he thought he could trust. And I’m sure you’re not one of those people.”

“Then he forgot or was scared to tell you.”

“No, you’re just one of the people he wanted to trust but instead hurt him so much none of us could approach him for the longest time without terrifying him.”

It looked like the two avians were going to argue more, but Jrumbot managed to sneak under one of Phil’s damaged wings and run to Grian. “Dad, he doesn’t seem that mean. He just thinks Watchers are bad or something.”

Grian glared once more at Philza before sighing and looking down at Jrumbot. “Well you’ve seen how Tommy can get sometimes. In fact, he might really need Tubbee for a bit soon.” Jrumbot frowned and crossed his arms, making Grian laugh a little bit.

“Dad, I believe there more-” Grumbot started to speak, but there was suddenly a shout from the trees nearby.

“Grian! I found Tubbo again!” Tommy emerged from the trees pulling Tubbo along. “I explained the gist of things to him and he seems okay with it.”

“Dad really this is-”

“Great. Meanwhile I caught up with the bots and this guy. He was trying to take them away from me.”

“Dad please his name-”

“What the fuck?! Phil these are his kids!”

“Da-”

“Do you want Tubbee now?”

“DAD THIS IS PHILZA MINECRAFT!” Grumbot finally had enough and turned his speech volume to its highest level. Tubbee flew around in shocked circles, Tubbo pulled themself closer to Tommy and Grian and Philza’s feathers ruffled in shock. “As I’m sure you’re aware he is also the king of the former Antarctic Empire.”

“Oh, well that changes things.” Grian said in a matter of fact tone before pulling his sword out. “Now I’m even more upset. This is what you became?!”

Philza drew a weapon of his own. “Oh, so you’ve been watching me for a while, have you?”

The three others looked at Grumbot with a range of expressions from concerned to confused. “Grum what the fuck is going on?”

The older robot just gestured to the two avians staring each other down, each waiting for the other to make a move or let their guard down. “Dad is upset at learning that this is Philza.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Tubbo asked, not sure how much of this was brand new and how much of this he didn’t know from not being with Tommy.

“Oh, because Grian is one of Philza’s sons.”

“G’s what?!” Tommy yelled, surprised. At the same time, Philza looked over in shock at Grumbot, having heard what was said. Grian took that as a chance to knock Philza down to the ground.

For a full minute, everything was quiet and no one, except Tubbee, moved. Then, Jrumbot seemed to process the information. “Yay! A grandpa!” And he jumped on top of Phil, easily winding him from the weight of simply being a robot.

Grian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, fine. Let’s go to my mansion and talk this out. We can get X and Mumbo to come too.”

[bopbopstyles]

Residue

RATING: R/smut (cw: emotional and mild physical abuse mentioned) 

WORD COUNT: 8.5k eek

CATEGORIES: friends to lovers, camping!harry (?), sleeping in the same bed

NOTE: this is for the Sex Bucket List Fic Challenge from @berrynarrybanana​ - prompt was in a tent while camping with friends....and then I just kind of created this mess. check out the other fics and the amazing creators!!!!

I ENDED UP WRITING A PT.2! Read Endlessly here.

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“When are you going to tell Y/N?”

Harry looked down at his feet. His boots were scuffed from walking through the rocky terrain to the lake earlier when they’d gone swimming. The image of you in her bikini flashed through his mind, and he restrained from groaning--he’d known you for years, swam with you for years, and yet seeing you in that bikini still did things to him, no matter how much he tried to tell himself you didn’t feel the same way about him. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Mitch let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “You can be so fucking daft sometimes, you know.”

“Y/N tells me all the time.”

“Well, she’s right,” he replied. “Tell her how you feel, Harry. She feels the same way.”

Harry looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “How do you know?”

“I can see it in how she looks at you. You’re blind if you don’t see it too.”

Harry paused. “How…”

“It’s the same way you look at her.”

or 

Harry and Y/N go camping with their friends and the fact that they’ve been in love with each other comes out

The drive out to the country was peaceful. Harry put on a podcast about music on the way and you listened as they analyzed Beyoncé’s Lemonade, pausing it occasionally to ask Harry questions about the technical parts. With the sunshine and Harry’s commentary once the podcast episode ended, the drive to the campgrounds in West Sussex passed quickly. 

Harry had booked your camp site last weekend, their trip a last-minute decision. You, Mitch, Sarah, and Nick had all been at Harry’s for a cookout and he’d mentioned wanting to get out in nature before the tour started, and Mitch threw out going camping. Nick took some convincing, but eventually he agreed. You and Nick had managed to get the time off from work, although Nick had to head back a day earlier, and it was settled. You had all left the particulars to Harry and when he texted a link to the campground in their group chat, you had fallen in love. Wooded, no power, cooking over an open fire--it reminded you of camping with your family when you were young. 

“Excited?” You asked Harry when you pulled into the parking lot at the front office. You threw the car in park and turned off the ignition, looking over at your best friend. 

He grinned back at you, eyes gleaming. You knew he’d been looking forward to this ever since you had first talked about it--he’d been calling you every day to go over the plans and picking out their meals for the weekend. “Psyched.”

You both climbed out of your car, stretching from the drive, and you inhaled the sweet smell of English oak trees, the sound of birds chirping making you smile as widely as Harry. Nick, Sarah, and Mitch were waiting by their cars, and Nick seemed to be animatedly telling a story about who knows what. 

“Is Nick being annoying?” You asked, throwing your arm around Nick’s shoulders and ruffling his hair. 

“He’s telling the story about the Brits. Again,” Sarah said, reaching out to hug you. “Save us, please.”

“Oi, you’re being mean.” Nick said and Sarah just laughed and shook her head. 

Mitch gave you a quick hug and you smiled at him--they’d all been working a lot lately in preparation for the tour. You had barely seen him, Sarah, and Harry, and you missed their presences more than you had realized. “Let’s go see what Harry got us,” you said.

“Spoiled you lot rotten,” Harry said, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his nose. 

“I’d hoped so,” you replied, and Harry chuckled softly before leading the group inside the office. 

“Reservation for Y/N,” Harry said to the receptionist and you looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t want anyone finding us,” he explained and you nodded immediately in understanding. After years of friendship, you were used to it, though it always tugged on your heart. You wanted, more than anything, for him to be able to be normal at some point. You knew he craved it too--anonymity. 

The receptionist clicked some buttons on her computer before pulling some folders out of a drawer and turning back to you all. “I’ve got three yurts reserved for you all--is that correct?”

Harry’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “I had requested four over the phone.”

The receptionist--Martha, according to her badge, frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Unfortunately, though, we’re all booked up this weekend. Is there any way three could be made to work?”

That meant someone was going to have to share. Harry looked at you, and then at Nick. “Nick, you good to bunk, mate?”

Nick groaned and you rolled your eyes at him. “Fine, but if you kick me in your sleep I’ll lock you out.”

“I don’t think they have doors, Nick,” you told him.

He looked at you and grimaced. “Zip him out then.”

“How threatening,” Harry said, before looking back to the receptionist. “That’ll be fine.” She nodded and explained the rest of the check-in and check-out policies and the amenities on the site. It seemed perfect--a pub not too far from the grounds, camp fires you was most definitely going to take advantage of, and actual showers. He truly was spoiling you all. 

You walked back to the car with Harry to drive to their yurts, swinging your keys around your finger in thought. “H,” you said when you sat down in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for bunking with Nick. I know you like your own space, so I appreciate it.”

He gave you a wide smile and you couldn’t help it--it warmed every part of you. It was moments like these you struggled to remember that Harry was just your friend. Nothing more. You’d dated people, he’d dated people, and you two were just friends. But then he’d look at you like this and you wanted more. “‘Course, love.” He reached across the console and gave your hand a quick squeeze, and your heart flopped in your chest. 

You were starved for touch--it’d been months since you broke up with your asshole of an ex and you were desperate to be touched, even if it was someone holding your hand. Usually you could count on Harry for some cuddles and tight hugs, but he’d been so busy practicing for tour that you hadn’t seen him much. Just FaceTime and the occasional meet-up at the café by your office on your lunch break and it seemed to be showing. 

You started the engine and prayed to the Gods that they would help you get through this weekend in one piece. 

The yurts were in a quiet part of the campground, secluded and in a thicket of trees. All you could hear was the sound of wind whistling through the leaves and the chirping of birds. After living in London for the past two years and barely leaving, it was a relief to be able to hear nothing but nature. 

Nick let out a whoop when he opened the door to his car. “God, this is gorgeous, isn’t it?” Sarah and Mitch pulled up a second later and you all wandered around the campground, deciding where you would put your chairs (around the campfire, obviously) and what you wanted to eat for dinner. Then, you started to unpack. You claimed the tent closer to the woods, wanting not to be awoken in the middle of the night if cars drove by and to get away from the group if you went to bed early, something that you had a tendency towards when Nick and Harry were together. 

The sound of the yurt being zipped open caused you to look up from where you were checking to see if there were bed bugs. After getting them when you were 13 on a family trip, you always checked. “This going to be okay for you?” Harry stood hunched over, his head poking into your yurt. His shirt was unbuttoned, the beige linen flowing in the soft breeze, and his hair flopped into his face. His green eyes were gleaming, a look he only got on break or on holiday, and it was your favorite look on him. He looked just unperturbed and blissfully happy. 

“Come in, silly,” you said, turning around and flopping down onto the bed. “It’s perfect, H.”

Harry grinned and dropped down next to you. “Comfy, eh?”

“Very.”

“I should plan every holiday at this rate.”

You whacked him with the pillow. The last holiday you had planned and the hotel had ended up being bad and their reservation for their yacht trip fully did not exist when they showed up. It was a disaster and Harry had yet to let you live it down. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“What? I like planning!”

“And you like being complimented.”

Harry huffed and you just smiled at him. After knowing one another for years, not only did you know everything important about Harry, you also knew how to push his buttons. Calling him out for what you had longed believed to be some kind of praise kink (you’d asked him about if while drunk and he’d looked so confused and embarrassed you dropped it) was the number one way to get him riled up. 

“How’s your tent with Grimmy?”

“He’s already asleep.”

“It’s noon.”

“Apparently he didn’t sleep last night.”

You laughed because it was classic Nick. It happened on almost every holiday you went on together, of which there had been a few. He’d get to wherever you were staying and immediately fall asleep for usually the rest of the day. You all usually just left him where he was and went about your business, but he also usually had his own room. “Were you able to put your stuff down at least?”

Harry shrugged. “Just dropped my suitcase on the ground and left him. I’ll wake him up eventually.” He turned his head and looked at you, his head so close that if you turned your head up ever so slightly, you could probably kiss him. 

“Fancy a swim?” You asked him, sitting up suddenly and trying to push the thought away. 

“Fuck yes,” he replied. “Let me change into my suit.”

The sun was out in full force when you jumped into the lake, your towels and clothes abandoned on the edge of the water. You were lying on your back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of sun on your skin. Mitch and Sarah were swimming around--you could hear them chattering about how Sarah wanted a dog and Mitch wasn’t into the idea--but you didn’t know where Harry was. You couldn’t hear him. Maybe he’d swam a little further away?

You pushed the thoughts from your mind and focused on not thinking about anything, which somehow took a significant amount of effort. Work kept trying to drift into your head--had the office finished the pitch that you had left for them on Thursday? It was a big account and you had put your all into it, but you hadn’t finished the final touches on Thursday before you had to leave the office, so you left it for your coworkers to wrap up on your behalf. Hopefully they didn’t half-ass it. 

Suddenly, fingers wrapped around your waist and you were being flipped onto your stomach, water immediately filling your nose and mouth. You snapped up, water flicking from the ends of your hair, and blinked the droplets away so you could see who had done it. 

Harry. 

“You bastard!” You screeched, shoving him. His skin was slick from the sunscreen and water, and you tried not to focus on the feeling of his arm muscles under your palms. “I could’ve drowned!”

“You were a competitive swimmer, Y/N,” he reminded you, chuckling. “You weren’t going to drown.”

You sputtered, slicking your hair back, and then gave him a death stare. “Still. You’re an ass.”

“That’s not news,” Sarah piped up from where she and Mitch were treading water and laughing at what had just happened. 

“This is true.” You gave Harry another look before shoving a wave of water in his direction, splashing water into his face. 

Harry gasped, wiping water from his face, his hair, which had grown longer in the past few weeks while he’d been on break, sticking to his forehead. He looked like a little kid, despite how muscular he’d become in the past year or so. You tried to not linger on it, but when he was in front of you without a shirt on, sun-kissed skin just begging to be looked it, it was quite difficult. “This is war.”

He shoved water at you, and suddenly you were splashing one another like children, both of you screeching as water got into your eyes. Your feet collided underwater, arms hitting each other as you twirled around each other in the water, trying to surprise one another. 

It was all fun and games until Harry’s hand reached out and accidentally hit you right in the boob.

“Harry!” You called out, swatting him. “You just hit me in the boob.”

“Fuck, sorry,” he said. “You okay?”

“Just sore,” you said, swimming a bit farther away from him. “Meanie.”

Harry gave you his puppy dog eyes, lashes blinking at you, plump lips sticking out ever so slightly. You hated when he did this because you always fell for it. Years of friendship and you still couldn’t hold anything against him when he did this because he just looked so goddamn gorgeous. You hated it. “Sorry?”

“Fine,” you said, “but you’re carrying me the whole way back to the campsite.”

You all ended up grilling burgers over the fire, Harry surprising you with some hidden skills over the open fire, and together the four of you drank beers as the fire glowed between them. Nick had never surfaced and Harry didn’t have it in him to wake him, so he let him be. Harry, Sarah, and Mitch had started playing music after dinner and you kept yourself entertained by requesting old One Direction songs, which made Harry stare daggers at you but amused you, Sarah, and Mitch to no end.

It was a chilly summer night and you were cuddled up in a sweatshirt of Harry’s, having forgotten yours at home, and a pair of leggings. You could feel your eyes drooping, your entire concept of time gone without the ability to check your phone. It could’ve been 9pm for all you knew. After a rendition of Landslide, you yawned and stretched your arms above your head, and decided to call it a night. 

“I’m going to turn in,” you said, standing up from the chair you’d been in for the past few hours. “Which way’s the bathrooms?” 

Sarah pointed to the right, and you nodded. You had to brush your teeth and pee before you could go to sleep, and you had no desire to traipse through the woods at night to pee in the brush, so you started off in the direction of the bathrooms, your toiletries bag tucked under your arm.

“Wait!” You turned to see Harry walking after you, his own bag tucked under his arm. “Didn’t want you to walk alone.”

You gave him a sweet smile and waited for him to catch up with you. “You ready for sleep too?”

He shrugged. “Probably be up for a little while longer, if that’s not too disruptive? Mitch and I thought we’d work on a song I’ve been thinking about. Thought I’d go ahead and brush my teeth, though.”

“I like listening to you play as I go to bed,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you thought about them. 

Harry’s eyebrows knit together and he studied you. “Never told me that before.”

Probably because it’s embarrassing, you thought to yourself. You loved listening to his music before you went to bed, especially the voice memos he’d sent you over the years of bits of songs he was working on before they were fully mastered. They were more raw, less produced, the stripped down Harry that you loved. “You never asked.”

He filed that information away for later and you climbed the steps to the bathrooms, both heading into the same free stall. You’d stopped caring about peeing in front of one another a long time ago. You went first, listening to Harry prattle on about a book he was reading that he thought you’d like as he washed his face. When you finished up, you switched places and you started brushing your teeth, stealing his toothpaste because it tasted nicer. 

“You should just buy some for yourself,” he commented.

“But I can use yours for free.”

He didn’t reply, just let you be, and you brushed your teeth next to one another, Harry knocking his hip against yours to make you smile. 

“Glad you came,” he told you when you exited the bathrooms. 

“Me too. Needed this, I think.”

“Same. Missed you, too.” 

You studied his face, barely visible in the moonlight. His stubble was growing in, but he had a peaceful expression you rarely saw in him. You saw it in moments on tour, sometimes--when you were cuddled up on his sofa watching a film after a show, or after a morning run on a day off. But here, this was the purest form and one you wished you saw more often. You didn’t tell him, though. You’d had that conversation before--how you were worried he was overworking himself, believing that he was able to work so much after years in 1D, working with barely any breaks. You wanted his solo career to be different, but Harry had a tendency to find work even when he wasn’t touring or recording. He loved it so much that it was all he wanted to do. “Missed you too,” you replied simply, and leaned into him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

Mitch set down his guitar and looked at Harry across the fire from him.

“What?”

“When are you going to tell Y/N?”

Harry looked down at his feet. His boots were scuffed from walking through the rocky terrain to the lake earlier when they’d gone swimming. The image of you in her bikini flashed through his mind, and he restrained from groaning--he’d known you for years, swam with you for years, and yet seeing you in that bikini still did things to him, no matter how much he tried to tell himself you didn’t feel the same way about him. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Mitch let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “You can be so fucking daft sometimes, you know.”

“Y/N tells me all the time.”

“Well, she’s right,” he replied. “Tell her how you feel, Harry. She feels the same way.”

Harry looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “How do you know?”

“I can see it in how she looks at you. You’re blind if you don’t see it too.”

Harry paused. “How…”

“It’s the same way you look at her.”

With that, Mitch turned and went to where Sarah waited for him in their yurt, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. It was quiet, aside from the crinkle of the fire. Harry couldn’t remember when he fell in love with Y/N--there wasn’t some specific moment like they say in the books. It just...happened. The more time he spent with you, the closer you got, the more Harry hated leaving you. And when you dated other guys, it made his stomach turn to be around them. He tried to pretend like it didn’t, he tried to be nice and polite as you were to the girls he tried to date, but he knew he never was. He hated the way you would look at him when he’d make some snide remark, and he could feel the disappointment radiating from your stare. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to let you go.

He’d tried to bury himself in work, in touring, in women. He’d lived in LA for months to try and get over you, he’d even dated Kendall fucking Jenner to try and get over you. Nothing helped. Camille had been the closest he’d gotten, but there had always been something holding him back. When he’d found out she cheated on him, it was a relief more than heartbreak--he didn’t have to be the one to break up with her this time. And he always went back to you, pretending to be more broken hearted than he was just to get you to spend days on end by his side, eating ice cream and watching films that you thought helped him. In actuality, it was you who helped him. It was being by your side, it was laughing with you, going on walks, even fucking gardening with you at his house in Hampstead. Anything with you healed him. 

And he knew it wasn’t fair, using you like he did. But he couldn’t help himself--it was the time when he could almost pretend you were his. It was when you ignored everything else and focused on only him and that attention is what he craved. You, together, no distractions. It’s what he wanted this weekend to be, but then you suggested inviting friends, and how could he say no to you? How could he tell you he just wanted to be with you for the whole weekend, the rest of the world forgotten?

Mitch’s words, though, were a stab in his heart. He’d always convinced himself that there was no way you could feel the same. You had fallen in love, you’d told him. With Tom. Bloody Tom. You’d met at some networking dinner and he’d asked you out, and from then on it was Tom, Tom, Tom. You had dated for a little over a year and Harry despised every second of it. Tom treated you like dirt--belittling you in front of your friends, in front of Harry, even, controlled your time and your friends. Boxed you in like you were some animal just there to please him, no life to speak of. It had happened while Harry was on tour and then in LA, so he hadn’t been there in person for most of it, and when he had been around you two together--whe he came home for the holidays and saw you, you had played it off. Said it was nothing, just a joke. 

But then her college roommate Jordan had called Harry, worried out of her mind about you. Told him how Tom treated you, all the things he’d done, how he’d manipulated you--hit you one time. Jordan was in New York City and work wouldn’t let her leave, but she knew Harry could go. She told him it was getting bad and he had to get you out. And so he did. He took the next flight out, barely packed a suitcase, and went. He went to your apartment and told you that Jordan had told him what happened, and you two had a massive fight over it, you defending Tom, Harry trying to convince you he had manipulated your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings, and you both ended up in tears before you finally let him take you to his house to stay for a few weeks. And together, you’d pieced his fierce Y/N back together. 

And all that time, he had never thought...He never thought you’d loved him. Not as he did, at least. You’d told him so many times that you loved him, but it was just as a friend. You’d made that clear in the ways you touched him and introduced him to people. He was your Harry, but just your friend. Your best friend, but friend all the same. It broke him, as much as he tried not to let it show. But for you to feel the same way? All this time?

And what did Mitch expect him to do? Bust into your tent and admit his undying love for you, you to admit you felt the same way, and for you to ride off into the night together? This wasn’t some romance novel (which Harrry knew Mitch read, even though he tried to hide them). This was reality, and in reality, it was just Harry, writing songs about you that you’d never understand the true meaning of, and a yurt shared with Grimmy. 

He stood up, his guitar held tightly in his hand, and put out the fire before heading into the yurt. Nick was spread eagle on the bed, still somehow asleep--Harry had never understood his ability to sleep literally all day--and snoring. Loudly. Harry sighed and went over to his suitcase, tugging off his jeans and sweatshirt and folding them neatly into the case. He pulled a henley and pajama pants on, knowing if Nick woke up to a half naked Harry in his bed he’d most definitely not let him hear the end of it, and walked over to the bed. He tried to shove Nick over and make space for himself, but the man was most definitely stronger than Harry had realized. 

Had he been working out lately?

Harry gave his arm another shove, but Nick didn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, Nick,” Harry said. “Do you have to seriously sleep like the dead?”

He looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything he could fashion a makeshift bed with. But there wasn’t even a spare fucking blanket. 

Maybe Sarah and Mitch would have one? Then he pictured walking into the couple’s yurt and immediately decided against that idea. That left you. You’d slept in the same bed before, albeit usually while drunk--maybe you’d let him sleep with you? Just for the night? 

Harry slipped on his flip flops, grabbed his flashlight and made his way over to your yurt. It was quiet except for the sound of your soft breathing and he immediately felt at peace, despite what his mind told him. He unzipped the front of your yurt and stuck his head in. It was dark and he could barely make out your figure, curled up tightly under the covers, hair strewn across the pillow. 

“Y/N?”

After a beat, he saw your body shift and your head stick up from the pillow. “Harry?”

“Can I sleep with you? Nick’s taking up the whole bed and snoring like a train.”

You giggled--and Harry’s heart started racing--and then said, “Of course. C’mere.” You lifted the edge of the blanket and Harry toed off his flip flops before walking over to the bed. “What time is it?”

He laid down next to you carefully, not wanting to brush up against you and make you uncomfortable. “Dunno. Late.”

You reached out for him, fingers brushing against his henley right over his stomach, and Harry’s heart seized. Did you know what you were doing to him right now? “Why are you lying there straight as a rod? I don’t bite, you know.” Probably not, he realized. You had no idea what the mere touch of your skin did to his heart. 

“Don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice quiet in the silence of the yurt. 

“You don’t, silly. Now c’mere.” 

He moved closer to you and you turned onto your side so that your back rested against his chest, and he wound his arm around your stomach loosely, holding you to him. You’d laid like this before, after your birthday earlier in the year when you’d gotten quite drunk and he’d brought you home so you didn’t choke in your own vomit. You’d snuggled into him then, just like you did now, and he tried to think of anything to get his dick to stop from plumping up under his pants. 

“H?”

“Yeah?”

“What was your song about?”

His breath caught in his throat. Had you heard it? It was so obviously about you, so unabashedly telling you how he felt. God, every song was about you. Even when he tried to make them less specific, when he tried to remove the details that would make it about you, you still left a residue. 

“Harry?” Your voice broke his thoughts, so sweet in his ears. He opened his eyes, which had closed while he thought, and looked into your hair. He could smell the remnants of your perfume mixed with the fresh smell of oak from the woods and the essence of smoke from the fire. He wanted to bury himself in your smell, in you. 

He should tell you. He knew he should. It was the perfect time--you were giving him the prompting. But he didn’t have the courage. “Did we wake you up?”

You rolled over and suddenly your face was mere inches from his. He could see your eyes in the dark, bright blue in the night. The ones that were painted in his dreams, echoes of you that never let him go. “Thought I heard something in the woods. Heard you instead.”

How much had you heard, he wondered. Had you heard his conversation with Mitch? You had been asleep when he had come into the yurt, so you had to have fallen back asleep. “What’d you think of it?”

You stared at him, your gaze searing through the protections he tried and struggled to keep up. “It was sad,” you said simply. 

“Hmm?” He mumbled, not really knowing what else to say to that. Of course it was sad, he was in love with his best friend and he didn’t have the balls to tell her. 

“The opening lines,” you whispered. “Put a price on emotion/I'm looking for something to buy/You've got my devotion/But man, I can hate you sometimes,” you sang it, perfectly in tune, hitting every note as he had around the campfire with Mitch. Your voice singing his words broke him in two, for some reason. They were the most honest ones of the whole song, he thought to himself, and the ones he was least likely to change. “Who is it about?”

Her question had changed. When you asked the first time, it was what. Now it was who. He studied you in the dark, searching himself. Could he muster the courage?

“Camille?”

“No,” he said, his words immediate. “No, not Camille.”

There was a rustle of the trees, but your eyes didn’t leave his. “Are you seeing someone new?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

He took a deep breath, and then, he pulled the words from the depths of his heart. “It’s about you.”

It was silent in the yurt. He couldn’t even tell if you were breathing. But your eyes didn’t leave his. He watched as your brain processed his words, pieced them together, matched them up with the song. 

“Test of my patience/There's things that we'll never know/You sunshine, you temptress/My hand's at risk, I fold.” You said the words, no song to them, just words, flowing from your lips as poetry, not lyrics. “You...Me. Things we’ll never know--that’s us?” 

He nodded, resisting the urge to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind your ear that had come loose. 

“You've got my devotion,” you whispered, the opening lines coming back around. “That’s about me?”

“Yes,” he said, the word simple, soft, quiet in the dark. But it took every ounce of his courage. It was worse than when he’d decided to go solo, it was worse than going out on stage alone for the first time, worse than stepping on the X-Factor stage. The hardest words he’d had to say. “Y/N,” he whispered, summoning the last of his courage, “the songs are all about you.”

That made you go quiet for longer. You stared at him, taking inventory of every part of his face. He could feel your eyes and he didn’t even squirm--it felt different than it did when you usually looked at him. It felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Like a veil had been lifted between them. 

And yet, you said nothing.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, the words breaking him. “I--I can go.”

But you pressed your fingers to his chin, instead. “Don’t go,” you whispered and this time it was him who stared at you. “I--I’m scared.”

“I know.” Your eyes blinked at him, eye level, so close he could see nothing but the rim of the blue, your long eyelashes he’d always admired. “I just...I can’t pretend anymore, love.” The nickname, long used between them, suddenly took on a new meaning in this moment. He could feel the shift in the air, the way the word landed between them. It slipped from his lips without him thinking about it, but he meant it in every which way. 

You ran your forefinger along the edge of his jaw and Harry’s breath caught in his chest. “Me either.”

And then, you pulled his lips down to meet yours and it was like Harry’s world bottomed out. Your lips were soft, just like he’d imagined them, and you tasted like sugar and the watermelons they’d had for a snack after dinner. The hint of toothpaste lingered and it made him smile, remembering how you’d spoken in the bathroom. His fingers wound their way into your hair and you let out a soft moan that set Harry’s skin on fire. 

Your teeth tugged on his bottom lip and Harry rolled you onto you back with a groan, begging for more, for anything you would give him. The kiss was deep, passionate, without end. You barely pulled away to breathe, wanting to never stop touching him. Your fingers crawled up his arms, across his collarbones, fire left in their wake. 

Harry balanced above you on his forearms, head dipping to meet your lips over and over again, his fingers curled into your hair that was spread out on the pillow. Your legs tugged apart, letting him slot himself between them, leaning into you. It was like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. 

“Y/N,” he said, pulling back from your lips just an inch so he could speak. “I--I don’t want to do anything if you don’t--”

“I want you,” you said, your hands drifting from his shoulders to cup his face between them. He leaned into your touch and you smoothed your fingers across his cheekbones. “I’ve always wanted you. H, you’re everything to me.”

His lips found yours again without a second beat, and you pulled every ounce of his heart from his chest with your lips. The sheets rustled under their bodies as they moved, begging to get more and more of each other. Your hands wound under his shirt, tugging as he leaned back, pulling it off, the chilly night air nipping at his skin. You sat up, Harry balanced precariously on your lap, and pressed kisses to his skin, licking over his swallows. 

Harry let out a moan, not being able to hold it in, but didn’t stop her as you made your way across his skin, claiming it as your own. He couldn’t hear anything but you--it was consuming, the feeling of being this close to you. Your teeth bit into the skin on his collarbones, sucking a bruise he knew would be there tomorrow, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wanted the world to know he was yours, that he loved you with every fiber of his being, unashamedly. 

“I’m yours,” he said, his voice edging on a moan as you licked across his nipples. “Yours, Y/N, I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” you replied, and leaned back, tugging off his sweatshirt, which you’d worn to bed. You were bare underneath, and you could feel Harry’s eyes on your skin, learning you. Usually, you felt studied under the gaze of a man, but now, with Harry, you felt admired, adored, loved. His hands kneaded circles into your breasts and you arched into him, moans leaving your mouth in breaths. 

You felt his tongue on your nipples, just as you had done to him, and your fingers gripped into the curls of his hair. “Fuck, H.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your sternum. “So, utterly beautiful.”

You leaned back onto your hands, chest rising and falling as he made his way down your body, inching farther and farther back on the bed until he was on his stomach, lips hovering above the waistband of your sleep shorts. His eyes met yours in question, and you nodded, words failing you.

“Need to hear your words, love,” he said, kissing your bare skin just centimeters above the bow on her shorts. “Want to make sure that you’re sure.”

“Take them off,” you said, struggling to speak as he licked your skin. “Touch me, H, please.”

And he did. He tugged your shorts down your legs, underwear coming with them, and pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, nipping love bites into the skin there. “You know, I dreamed of you last week,” he said against your skin. 

“What?” You squealed as he sucked on the sensitive skin at the crease of your thighs. 

“Of you, like this.” Then, he licked a stripe up her clit and you buried your hands in his hair, holding him there. “But in the dream, I couldn’t smell you.” He sucked on your clit, and you struggled not to scream his name. Your friends would hear and the last thing you wanted was to deal with that in the morning. “I couldn’t hear you,” he said, licking you again, and your head flailed to the side. “And I woke up before I could do this.”

And then, he dove his tongue inside of you, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, holding in the moans that begged to fly free. It was heaven, his tongue. Delving into her like it was made for you, curling inside of you and rubbing the front of your walls delicately. 

“Harry,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet, “more, please.”

He wasted no time pressing his finger to your clit and rubbing you in circles, causing your chest to arch from the pleasure. You could feel a knot building in your belly, begging and begging for more. 

“Please, H,” you let out in a moan, and that’s when you felt his own moan against your skin, the vibration of the stubble on your skin causing you to shake against him. But his free hand anchored your hips to his lips, and he continued his work, licking in and out of you, then up and down your folds, drawing soft moans from your mouth over and over again. 

“Wanna hear you,” he said softly against your skin, “please, love, wanna hear you.”

“Don’t want to wake them,” you replied, struggling to look down at him. But when you did, the sight of his head between your thighs, hair a mess, eyes gleaming up at you in the dark, it ripped a moan from your chest that you couldn’t contain. 

“That’s it,” he said. “Don’t give a fuck about them. S’just us, yeah?” He kneaded circles into her skin with his hands and sucked harshly on her clit, your hips bucking in response, but he didn’t let go. “What d’ya want, love?”

His words were rough, broken from pleasure. You loved the way he sounded, having never had the opportunity to have him this way. “Fingers,” you said. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” His one hand left her hips and circled your entrance, drawing your wetness around his fingers. “Fuck, love, you’re so wet.”

“H,” you breathed out, “please.”

That’s all he needed. He dipped his forefinger inside of you, your tight walls gripping him like a vice. But to him, you were virtue--you were everything to him, everything good in the world wrapped up in a single person. He curled his finger, brushing against a spot that made you squeak and he smiled before adding a second finger. “Come for me, love,” he said, sucking on your clit. “Wanna taste you.”

And that’s all it took. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, your hands gripped in his hair, keeping his face there as he licked your clit softly, drawing shock waves from your body over and over again. You struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting to watch him as you came, and he held your eye contact as you did. When he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them, you just stared at him, wondering if this was real. If he was real. 

“Taste sweet,” he said, crawling up your body, pushing you down onto the bed with the weight of him. You loved it, the feeling of his skin on yours, of his body on yours. “With an edge of sourness.” He pressed his lips to yours, and you licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. You hadn’t been this turned on...ever, you realized. “Tastes good,” he said against your lips. 

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “Felt good too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re good at that, you know.” 

He chuckled at you and pressed a kiss to your cheeks. “Can’t wait to do it again.”

You captured his lips again, arms winding around his chest, pulling him into you, closer and closer until you couldn’t find the space between you. And then, you rolled, taking him with her, leaving him on his back and you flush to his chest. “Some other time,” you said softly, drawing back. “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he let out, gaze travelling up your body as you sat back on his hips, bare center brushing over his pajama pants. “Want you too, baby.”

You smirked at him. “Baby?”

He blushed. “Sorry, it just--”

“Shh.” You pressed a finger to his lips. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” You rolled your hips over his erection and he bucked up into you, not being able to stop himself, drawing groans from both of them. “Wanna hear you, H,” you whispered, tossing his words back at him. “Hmm?”

“Take ‘em off.” He bucked his hips again, and you smiled down at him. Your fingers curled around his pants and his underwear, and crawled back, pulling them off together in one motion, just as he had done to you. 

You held him in your hand, brushing your thumb over his tip, the pre-cum slick against your skin. Your tongue licked a stripe up the underside of him, drawing a moan from his chest as you laved circles around the tip of his length. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, “Not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he said. “Need--”

“I know,” you replied. You pressed another kiss to him and clamored back up his body. “Wouldn’t have happened to bring condoms, would you?”

“Fuck,” he said, “no, wasn’t exactly planning this.”

You pressed a kiss to his chest, trying to calm the panicked look in his eyes. His hands ran up and down your thighs, his touch consuming you. “I’ve got the implant,” you said, “if that’s ok with you.”

“I’ll pull out,” he said, leaning up on his elbows. “Promise.” Then your lips found each other’s and you rocked your hips against him, the slick of you dripping down onto his length. He swallowed your moans and you did the same, the dark of the night wrapping around you, encasing you in a world that was just the two of you. 

You reached down and ran your fingertips along his length, brushing his tip against your slit, the feeling sending tingles down her spine.

“Please,” he begged beneath you, fingers digging into your hips to where there would probably be marks tomorrow, “please, Y/N.”

When you slid down his length, your eyes shut from the sensation of him stretching you. You didn’t stop until he had bottomed out, you hips flush against one another. You could feel his eyes watching as you adjusted to his size, to the burn of him inside of you. It was surreal to have him like this, to have him so close to that you couldn’t find where you ended and he began. To have his lips find yours as you began to rock back and forth on him, open mouths meeting like old friends, begging for more and more and more. It was heaven, you decided, this was heaven on earth, this feeling. Your head snapped back when he bucked up into you, hitting a deep spot that made your arms shake. And then he ran his tongue down your exposed neck, nipping and biting into your skin, whispers of your name like an echo around them. 

You wanted all of him. Every single part of him, you wanted to have his laughter and his smile and his words and his thoughts and his love. You wanted his body in the morning and the night and across the distance. You wanted him to hold you in his arms always, to care always. To you, he was hope, he was a bright spot in a sea of darkness. He was the antithesis of your exes, of Tom, of the men who had used you up and left you in a bed of nails. Harry built you up, stoking your fire with actions that showed you how much he cared, never wavering from your side, always running back when you called. No matter how far he went, the residue of him never left your mind, body, or soul. 

Harry’s arms caged you in and suddenly you were on your back and he was above you and inside of you and everywhere. His fingers danced across you skin as his hips snapped into you, moans drying in your throat because you could barely think from the pleasure zipping through your body. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he said, words darting through the fog, “I love you.” He was holding you so tightly in his arms that you wondered if he thought you would run. As if you wanted to be anywhere else but here, beneath him, close to him, breathing him in and out. 

“I love you too.” The words left you without hesitation and you pressed your lips back to his as you chased your highs together, his hips never stopping. He pulled one of your legs high on his hip, reaching a new depth inside of you, and you scrabbled at his back with your fingers, leaving marks in your wake. “Right there,” you whispered against his shoulder, biting softly into the skin there. 

He pistoned his hips in and out, hitting the spot over and over again. “Yeah? Right there, baby?” 

You had always joked he had a praise kink, but now that you had him, you knew you were right and good lord did you feed right into it. “So good,” you mumbled, “so good Harry, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, tongue darting to the spot under your ear when you turned hyourer head, choking on a moan when he thumbed your clit. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Gonna tell you every day. Never going to stop now that I have you. Finally.”

You dug into his ass with your heels, keeping him deep inside of you. Hands grabbed skin, and you basked in the heat that surrounded you, the sweat that stuck their skin together. It was perfect--he was perfect, he felt perfect, it was as if you were made for one another. Somehow, every movement he made was better, he navigated your body like he had the only compass and it was carved into his heart. 

Every part of you ached, ached for him and for release. You could feel it rising inside of you, taught like a string, begging. “Oh my god,” you whined, spasming around him. Your hand gripped the back of his neck and dragged his head back to you, fingers digging into his warm skin. Your lips met as he pumped into you over and over, drawing moans from them both that never stopped. You loved that he made noise in bed, that he told you how good you felt, that he made sure you knew how incredible it was. Every kiss pressed to your clammy skin was a reminder of how much he loved you.

“Fuck.” A guttural moan escaped him when you clamped down on his length, your orgasm threatening to rip through you. “Not going to last, baby.” His forehead rested against yours as he dug into the sheets with his fingers and toes, using every ounce of his energy to bring you both to the brink. Your fingers scratched against his shoulder blades, gripping him close as you arched into him. 

“I’m close,” you said, words ragged, “so close.”

“Come,” he breathed out, “please, Y/N.”

You pressed a kiss to his brow, the salt of his sweat against your lips. “Come inside me,” you whispered to his skin. “Want to feel you.”

His head turned, eyes meeting yours. “Sure?”

You dug your heels into his ass in response, gripping him like a vice to you. A moan ripped through him as he dug deep inside of you, pulling every piece of your love from her chest, just as you did to him. Then, he kissed you again, your name a mantra against your lips, and with that, your orgasm ripped through your body. 

He chased it with every brush of his hips, running after you as you soared and fell. You held him close as you came down, struggling to find your breath. But you didn’t want him to move. You wanted to feel him, to see him, to hear him finish. And when he did, it was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. His eyes bore into yours, teeth dug into his bottom lip so deep it probably drew blood, fingers curling tightly into the sheets on either side of your shoulders. Slowly, his hips came to a halt and you could feel his cum inside of you. The air was silent except for your breathing as he rested his body against you, not pulling out. 

You two laid there together, your arms wound around his waist, running your fingers up and down his back, his fingers threading through your hair. It was as if you were waiting for the words, because neither of you had them. What do you say after that? 

Harry moved to pull out of you, but you held him fast. “Please,” you whispered, “just…”

He shushed you, knowing what you meant. You wanted him close. After denying your feelings for so long it was like they were consuming every inch of you, overwhelming your brain and your heart. Having him close helped tether you to the ground and you couldn’t let go. Not yet. 

“Love you,” he said softly into your hair. “Love you so much, Y/N.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Love you too.”

“Think they heard?”

You giggled against his skin and you could feel his smile. “Probably. Don’t care that much, though.”

“Me either.”

You were quiet for a second before mustering the courage to ask the question swirling through your brain. “You’re not going to leave in the morning, right?”

He lifted his head and looked at you. “Never.” Then, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips and tucked his head into the space between your shoulder and your neck, his breath even against your skin. 

And you both laid there, adjusting to what it felt like to finally have the one person you’d always wanted, praying that when the sun rose nothing would change.

talk to me about camping!harry here | masterlist here

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 10

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

CW: Discussion of toxic relationship

Lucie was under the impression Alastair liked Thomas, but Lucies texts only made him more nervous. Even if Alastair smiled back, even if some things he said could hint at romantic feelings, Thomas had no clue how to make a move on people, much less Alastair. After dinner, they talked a bit more, about books, history, places they wished to travel. Alastair told him that he’d once read Machiavelli’s the Prince for comfort, but had since replaced it with Marx’ the Communist Manifesto. Thomas, who read mostly fiction, found it hard to imagine those books as something one read for comfort, but he promised he’d give the Communist Manifesto a try.

‘My ex recommended the Prince,’ Alastair explained. ‘In retrospect, the book suits him pretty well. It’s about power, manipulation, and he was all about that.’

‘As in, he manipulated you?’ Thomas asked.

‘He wants to get into politics, and I think he cares more about holding a position of power than about doing what’s best for the country. But he also manipulated me,’ Alastair said, showing no emotion. ‘He was very obsessed with his own social status and image, and would have done anything to improve that. I would not have reflected well on his image, so he kept me a secret and made me believe it was what was best for me.’

Thomas was certain he would be a better partner to Alastair than his exif they were in a relationship, but figured that was a pretty low bar. He didn’t know much about relationships, had never been in one, and wasn’t sure he knew how any of that worked, or how to be with someone with such a bad past experience. He didn’t want to hurt Alastair by accident. Perhaps his parents had some advice, but then he’d first have to tell them he liked boys. Which he planned to, but he had not yet figured out the right words, the right occasion.

‘How did you come out to your parents?’ he asked Alastair.

His parents were outside, they wouldn’t overhear. Thomas hoped they wouldn’t walk in out of a sudden, but if they did… Well, then at least they’d know and Thomas wouldn’t have to prepare a speech.

‘I only came out to my mother and aunt Risa,’ Alastair said. ‘Not to my father, nor do I care to.’

‘So, did you prepare a speech or anything?’ Thomas asked.

‘I did, because I suspected my mother and aunt Risa might not understand or know much about gay people, so I’ve mostly been educating them on various sexualities and gender identities. Risa actually discovered she is asexual and aromantic after I explained those concepts to her. Why do you ask?’

Thomas turned red, he laughed nervously. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell my parents I’m gay, but haven’t found the right time, or figured out how to tell them.’

‘You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Do you want them to know?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas considered Alastair’s question for a moment. ‘Yes, I do. I think it would be easier if they knew and I would rather tell them before I am in a relationship instead of introducing a boyfriend. Since that would be awkward for him as well. Mainly, I just want them to know but I don’t want an awkward conversation.’

‘I think your problem is that you’re too determined to do it perfect,’ Alastair said. ‘Your parents seem very open and accepting, I don’t think you have to worry.’

‘No, I know that,’ Thomas said.

He felt stupid. Alastair must have had a much harder time telling people, he hadn’t known beforehand that his mother would be accepting. Thomas was fairly certain his parents would love him no matter what, and yet here he was complaining to Alastair about how difficult he found it to come out.

‘I know it can still be scary,’ Alastair said. ‘I was fairly certain Cordelia wouldn’t mind at all, yet I postponed telling her for a long time. Of course in my case it could have saved me a lot of misery, had I told her sooner.’

‘What do you mean?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized almost immediately after I told her that my ex boyfriend was treating me badly, when I did not. It took her a couple of weeks to convince me, but I realized she was right and then I broke up with him.’ Alastair paused. ‘It’s nice to have someone to talk about it. For a long time, I had only him and he actively discouraged me from telling anyone else.’

‘I’m guessing he wasn’t out?’ Thomas asked. ‘He thought being gay would reflect badly on him as a politician?’

‘No, I don’t think that was the problem. He was private about his sexuality, but I think his friends and family knew. I don’t blame him for that, I understand it’s not always easy to talk about and there can be consequences when people know. But I think in his case, he didn’t want people to know about me because I was so much younger, he probably knew grooming a teenager would reflect badly on him. He always said it was because I wasn’t out that he wanted to keep our relationship a secret, that he wanted to protect me from judgement, but I doubt that was true. I never wanted to be someone’s secret.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Wait, how much younger were you?’

‘Six years. I met him when I was fourteen and entered a relationship with him at sixteen.’

Then Alastair’s ex must have been twenty two at the time? Thomas, at eighteen, considered sixteen year old boys children and had no romantic interest in them. He preferred to look at boys his own age, maybe a little older. Despite being a year ahead in his education, Alastair was only a couple of months older than him. He couldn’t imagine being interested in a teenager when he was in his early twenties.

‘I didn’t realize at the time that the age difference was a red flag,’ Alastair explained. ‘I felt very mature, to have caught the attention of someone older. He told me, over and over, that I was very mature for my age, that he couldn’t believe I was still so young.’

Thomas suspected most teenagers would be flattered to be called mature, to be taken seriously by an adult. It was a vile sort of manipulation, to seek out someone young and vulnerable and isolated, someone who would easily fall for such compliments, only to take advantage of them and treat them badly.

‘How did you tell Cordelia?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized something was not right,’ Alastair said. ‘She realized I was sneaking out at night, that I was barely eating and losing weight because I was so nervous. She said I was “being even more difficult than usual, and that’s saying something”. So I told her not to worry about it and that I was just sneaking out to see my boyfriend. I said I’d wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure yet if I was ready, and that he had recommended I don’t tell anyone yet. She started asking a lot of questions about my relationship. At first it was in a supportive way, what did he look like, what were his interests. She kind of freaked out when she learnt about the age gap, and the more she asked about how he treated me, the more concerned she became. She’s been very protective of me ever since.’

‘I’m so sorry. Not that it’s my fault, or there’s anything I could have done, but I’m just sorry. That it happened to you. I’m glad your sister is protective of you. As long as she’s not too protective, I mean,’ Thomas said. ‘I know from experience too much protection can be suffocating.’

A small smile appeared on Alastair’s face, and Thomas realized he so rarely did. He had a very pretty smile that lit up his dark eyes.

‘I found it confusing most of all. As the oldest sibling, I always thought it was my duty to protect her, not the other way around. But Cordelia is fierce, and I love that about her. This one time we ran into him while shopping, not long after the break up. He tried to approach me while Cordelia was getting us ice cream, and when she returned and saw him she threatened to expose him as an abuser and child groomer on all her social media channels if he didn’t back off.’

‘Isn’t what he did illegal anyway?’ Thomas asked. ‘Since you were a minor? Couldn’t you go to the police if he kept harassing you?’

‘Age of consent is sixteen, so even if he was much older it was legal for him to have sex with me,’ Alastair explained. ‘It would be illegal if he was my teacher or in any way in a position of power over me, but he was not. He must have been aware of how those laws work and I think perhaps he waited until I was sixteen so it would be legal.

Him harassing me might be enough to get a restraining order, but honestly I don’t trust the police to believe me over him. Besides, I have no intention of sharing something so personal with police officers. I expect them to not care at best and I think it is likely they will be racist and homophobic and will blame me for what happened.

Cordelia has enough followers on twitter and Instagram to get the story out if we wanted to and it’s a decent threat, but I’ve asked her not to.’

‘From what you’ve told me, he fully deserves to be exposed,’ Thomas said.

He was angry on Alastair’s behalf, and Thomas guessed Alastair was right that as an Iranian gay man he could not trust the police to help him.

‘It’s not so much about whether he deserves it or not. I’m still processing what happened, and I don’t want to be judged by strangers on the internet. I consented to everything sexual we did even if it was coerced, and not everyone will understand all the subtle manipulation involved. I know people will claim it was all my fault, and if I didn’t want it I should have just said no. Or that after breaking up I decided to ruin his life by telling lies. He has powerful friends, I do not. I admire the bravery of the people who expose rapists and abusers on the internet, but I can’t put myself through that right now.’

Thomas felt nauseous, the idea of Alastair being manipulated into having sex with a much older man was difficult for him to process. It made him angry, Alastair had given this man everything, had loved him. How could someone have taken advantage of such a beautiful and passionate man? People often accused Thomas of being too kind, too compassionate, of trying to empathize too much with people who did bad things, but he was fairly certain that if he ever encountered the person who did this to Alastair, he would feel nothing but anger and hatred towards him. And he’d make sure whoever it was would never hurt Alastair again.

He wanted to show support, he wanted to love Alastair, but wasn’t sure how. He knew it was a big step for him, to open up so much, he knew Alastair was very private and trusted him as much as he knew how to trust. Thomas was terrified of letting him down, of breaking his trust.

‘Did he at least back off after that threat?’ Thomas asked.

‘I haven’t seen him in real life again, but he has been texting me until I blocked his number. He is part of the reason I came here, something I needed to get away from. You have provided a decent distraction and I am grateful. I have never… had a friend like you.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. He liked being trusted, he loved that Alastair valued him, but at the same time he wanted to be more to him than just a friend. But Alastair needed a friend, Thomas told himself. And perhaps Alastair would fall in love with him over time, perhaps someday they could be together. If not, being his friend would still be worth it.

‘Now, would you want to play another game of ludo before I return to the Herondales? I am certain the dice will be on my side this time,’ Alastair said.

The dice were not on Alastair’s side. The difference in rolls were at the very least statistically improbable, but Thomas wasn’t great at math. He won by a landslide.

‘You’re older than me,’ Thomas offered as an explanation.

Alastair frowned. ‘Only by a few months, and what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I have a theory that dice games like this one favor the young,’ Thomas explained. ‘I used to play this game with my sisters and I always did better. Of course, Barbara would usually let me win with games, but that’s difficult with a game like this. But most of my friends are younger than me, and with Lucie I don’t have nearly this amount of luck. And when I played with my younger cousin Alexander, my rolls are as pathetic as yours. Of course, that’s for the best because he’s three and he throws the game across the room when he loses.’

‘Nothing you just said makes sense,’ Alastair pointed out. ‘The dice can’t tell how old you are.’

‘Perhaps there’s a little spirit in there,’ Thomas said with a smile. ‘Something that realizes if little Alexander loses, painful things will happen to it. It probably dreads the day Alexander will play against children his age.’

Thomas guessed that might not be the best idea, at that age all children were sore losers. Most three year olds didn’t play together yet anyway, it was more parallel play what they did. Alastair left after losing another game, and at the end Thomas might have convinced him of his theory.

‘I’ll meet you here after breakfast for another walk,’ Alastair said with a small smile that made Thomas’ heart race. He hoped he wasn’t showing that. Would Alastair suspect Thomas liked him, now that he knew Thomas was gay? He wasn’t sure if he wanted Alastair to. If Alastair returned his feelings, sure. But if not, what if Alastair would retreat in his shell again, what if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

‘See you tomorrow,’ Thomas said. ‘Good night.’

Thomas didn’t sleep well that night. He dreamt of a castle, surrounded by dark forest. He didn’t know where he was, or what was happening. On a surface level, it didn’t even seem so scary but a voice inside Thomas was telling him to run as fast as he could to get away from there, yet he couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure what he was running from exactly, but he woke up drenched in sweat at six in the morning. He didn’t feel rested exactly, but didn’t think he’d fall asleep again, so instead he changed the sheets on his bed and took a quick shower before putting on some clothes.

It would probably be some time until Alastair showed up, so Thomas made breakfast, and took his time to eat before settling in the garden. Gnomes were early risers, and Thomas liked watching them run around. Here they weren’t used to being seen though, and any indication that Thomas did see resulted in them running away and hiding, peeking out of the bushes on occasion to see if he was still there. Thomas put out a plate of cookies, perhaps they would become more trusting to humans who could see them overtime.

He sat there, reading a book Lucie had given him a while back. Ever since Thomas had told her he liked boys, Lucie had recommended books about queer men and right now he was reading Winter’s Orbit, a science fiction story about two men in an arranged political marriage. The amount of miscommunication and hopeless pining was almost painful to read, but also enjoyable. Thomas guessed he wasn’t much better, he still had no idea how to tell Alastair how he felt. Hopefully, he could finish the book before dying, he desperately wanted to know if these two could figure out their feelings for each other before it was too late.

‘What are you reading?’

Thomas looked up to see Alastair, dressed in a black Metallica t shirt and black jeans. He summarized the book he was reading.

‘It was a gift from Lucie,’ he said.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Alastair said. ‘I like books with some political drama. Can I borrow it when you finish?’

‘Sure. And in case I don’t get to finish it, I’ll write you into my will and leave you this book.’

Alastair groaned. ‘Please do not make jokes about you dying.’

Thomas sometimes felt like making jokes about it was the only way to cope. In reality, the idea that he was very likely to die was terrifying, even if the people around him kept assuring him he was going to be fine.

‘Sorry. I hope you’ll like this book. Although… one of the main characters was abused by a previous partner. Would that be an issue?’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘I think then maybe I should wait until I read it. That’s difficult with reading fiction, not all authors offer content warnings and going in unprepared can be devastating. When I know it’s coming… It’s easier, but I’m not sure if I want to do that right now solely to read a book.’

Thomas nodded. ‘I can imagine. If you want any books that don’t have topics that are triggering for you, I’ll try and see if I have anything. Or you can ask Lucie.’

‘I’ll think about it. Being able to read fiction while being prepared through content warnings is something I’m trying to work towards. No idea how long that will take, according to my therapist I’m too impatient. You coming? This early, there might still be some hedgehogs,’ Alastair said with a grin.

‘You really like hedgehogs,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘When I was a child I wanted one for a pet, but my parents didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, I could have a goldfish. They’re very popular in Iran, people get them for the Persian new year celebration, Nowruz. People usually release them into a river or pond after the celebration, so that’s what Risa did. My parents weren’t too happy about it. At the time, I believed he would probably be happier there anyway than in a bowl, but it is likely he died within days. I don’t think it’s good for the environment either, and many Iranians are pushing back against the tradition because of that. Did you have pets growing up?’

‘Most of my childhood, because I was so sick, my parents didn’t think it was a good idea. They were afraid a pet might carry diseases I would be more vulnerable to,’ Thomas said. ‘But I hope I can adopt cats someday. And Barbara and Oliver have two guinea pigs.’

‘My cousin Jem has a cat,’ Alastair said. ‘Little beast hates everyone, but adores Jem.’

‘Do you see him often?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jem, I mean.’

‘Not really. My father never wanted him near our family, I think because he was afraid Jem would see right through him. But now that we don’t live with Father anymore, I see him occasionally. He offered me to come live with him, but I’m not sure. I still feel like I barely know him.’

They didn’t find any hedgehogs during their walk, presumably because the fog had gotten so thick they wouldn’t see any if they were there. Although Thomas was fairly certain they were taking the same route they had yesterday and during their first walk, everything looked different. He told himself it was probably the fog, but he couldn’t quite convince himself.

‘I don’t remember these ruins,’ Alastair said.

Thomas’ followed Alastair’s gaze and saw the ruins of a very old building. Of course, there were lots of old castles in Scotland, but Thomas hadn’t read anything about ruins in these woods.

‘Do you think we should take a look?’ he asked carefully. ‘I’m not seeing anything unusual.’

‘Apart from ruins that weren’t here yesterday?’

‘We must have taken a different path,’ Thomas said.

‘Sure,’ Alastair said and Thomas didn’t think he believed it. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would not take another step, but if we are to save your life we need information. Perhaps those ruins hold something of interest.’

[evenmyzefronposter]

What even is Lily about?

I'm becoming convinced that I only really get on FB for the rants. It is the best of times, it is the worst of times, I am such trash, it's incredible. So today I had someone ask, which is totally reasonable btw, what makes you say Lily gaslighted Severus? And I am just chuffed to answer that question. Truly.

So, Severus did accidental magic when Petunia insulted him when they first met. Lily immediately turns on him and blames him for it. She just automatically assumes the worst of a person who had given her no reason to think badly of him (other than that he was obviously poor and she wasn't, but I don't know that that played in to it and if it did, I think it would be the topic of a whole nother blog). So he gets startled and insulted and Lily's automatic response is basically "what's wrong with you? Wtf is you doing?" To him! Not to her sister who was actually in the wrong, but to Severus. Later on, Petunia is mad at Lily for looking at the letter Dumbledore sent her, and again Lily puts that completely on Severus even though she was the one who had done it. It's this game of "let me make Severus think he's at fault because then I don't have to own up to anything." And Severus is just so desperate for some kind of kindness that he essentially goes along with whatever she says.

When they were at Hogwarts, she's seen trying to isolate him from his friends (ie his housemates, the people he lives with, the people who are supposed to be "like your family while you're at Hogwarts" according to McGonnagall). I've completely talked about this part before. She could have stopped hanging out with him if she felt they weren't a good match. She could have said something like "hey come to gobstones club with me" to give him a neutral place to meet other people with her, because that's the kind of thing that friends do together. Instead she just told him he needed to stop being around his own housemates which would leave him with only her as a friend. He is this poor, awkward, unpopular kid with very minimal social skills and she knows it. What else was he supposed to do? Oh. Right. Have only her as a friend.

When the Marauders actively try to kill him, she again turns the whole thing around on him, like he's crazy and he's in the wrong. She's all "you should be grateful to James Potter for saving you" totally ignoring the fact that his life wouldn't have been in danger if not for the Marauders 'prank'. She just refuses to hear his side of it, despite presumably hating James Potter and calling Severus her best friend. She even goes so far as to turn the whole thing back on him and his friends like "Bullying and attempted murder is one thing, but possible affiliations with dark magic? No, sir. Good day!"

During Snapes Worst Memory, she is smiling/laughing at what James is doing to Snape way before Snape calls her a mudblood. And again, she doesn't stop to consider that maybe Snape is angry and hurt and lashing out at anyone. And maybe her laughing at the Marauders' cruelty before defending her friend might have had something to do with who he chooses to lash out at first. It is always Severus' fault in her eyes, no matter what happens. And I'm not justifying his use of a slur because that is 100% Not Okay™️, but I also do not blame him for snapping at her. If he had used any other words, I wouldn't even question whether he was justified or not. (Idk why but I kind of like "i don't need help from a two-faced onion like her." I just really hate onions, Shrek notwithstanding.)

Anyway, yes. Some of that is just called 'being a generally shit friend.' Absolutely. But the isolation tactics, that's full gaslighting. And always turning things around on him, trying to make him think he's crazy or wrong in every situation is, again, a total gaslighter move. Like, I definitely understand the way Severus felt about her, but it's almost like she conditioned him to feel that way and then abandoned him to it. I doubt that it was calculated manipulation on her part because she was also a child, but it still comes across really badly to me.

And just as a bonus Lily rant, after she and Severus part ways for good, she is fine with Snape getting bullied. Like, we're told that James kept doing it behind Lily's back or something. But she's not stupid; she's always described as quite the opposite. And I don't get the impression that James is the type to do subtle very well. So she's still going, "I'm ok with dating this guy who is an utter ass to my poor, abused, socially awkward ex-friend who has been hanging out with the wrong sort of people as we, as a society, enter into a war. I'm sure that won't turn out badly for anyone." And hell, even if she legitimately did not know, she still knew that James used to do it. And she knew that he tried to bully her into dating him. And she still went out with him?? So, to summarise, I really just don't get this chick.

[firesoulstuff]

Buddie + Legends crossover? “I don’t make eyes at him.”

"I don't make eyes at him."

"Right." Behrad says, "And I don't make eyes at Gary."

"Exactly." Buck affirms for his newfound friend. "Eddie's my best friend, I don't think of him that way. So we're closer than just sports talk and drinking. Is that so wrong?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Behrad agrees, sticking his arm out for emphasis. "Like, it's 2021! There are entire sections of chapters in the history books I grew up with dedicated to the 20's being the dismantling of toxic masculinity!"

Buck grins, but to be honest he's a little distracted by the reminder that Behrad is actually from 2046. It's weird to think about.

"I mean," Behrad continues, around a handful of chips. "Was I happy when Gary had that on and off thing going with Constantine? No. But that was because John treated him like garbage. I was being a concerned friend."

"As you should've been." Buck says, "If any of my friends were with someone who treated them like garbage, I wouldn't be happy about it. I tried to get my sister to leave her abusive ex, like, a billion times. Does that mean I'm in love with my sister?"

"Nope!" Behrad says, and Buck chuckles. So maybe being left behind on monitor duty isn't so terrible.

"And besides." Behrad says after a few minutes, "Doesn't Eddie have a kid? Trust me, a single dad needs friends on a level deeper than sports talk and beer."

Buck chuckles, "I know." He says, "Like, Eddie's close with the rest of the crew, but they all have families and commitments and stuff. I'm around more, so yeah I hang out with him and Chris, and trust me sometimes after a long week he needs someone to tell him to go take a nap."

Behrad snorts, "Dude, I can't even count how many times Gary has just... just done my ship chores, or Emmy's laundry, because I'm too busy dealing with her being five-years-old on top of all the other crap that happens around here."

"Right." Buck says, "And that doesn't mean he's in love with you."

"It just means he's my friend." Behrad says, "See, you get it bro. You get it. You get that I'm not in love with Gary. Just him doing that stuff really helps me out, so I pay him back by making him his favorite coffee."

"And you get that I'm just helping Eddie out when I load the dishwasher after dinner." Buck says.

"And hating Gary's dick father who I've never met is totally normal."

"Right." Buck agrees, "Like how Eddie turns red any time my parents come up in conversation."

"Exactly. And when I find Gary up at night, of course I'm going to ask him if he's ok."

"Thank you!" Buck exclaims, "Like... Why would I not ask Eddie if he's ok when he's pacing the garage at two in the morning?"

"It's what friends do!"

"Yes!"

They trail off then, laughing, but as the laughter dies the whole conversation starts to settle in Buck's mind.

And it sounds a lot like two people trying to convince themselves of a lie.

[goldenmaybank]

no strings ~ scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: jj and y/n have had a no strings attached agreement for years, but that statement couldn’t be farther from the truth.

warnings: swearing, cheating, implied sex, and slight fluff 

word count: 2.2k

this is my entry for @ptersparkers​ writing challenge! hope you all enjoy :)

no strings attached. that was the agreement we made back in freshman year. it's now junior year and that agreement still stands. no feelings involved, just pure fun, but how do you not fall for his big blue eyes and bright smile. it was only meant to be for one night, but one night soon turned into two then three and now i've lost count how many nights we've spent together. almost every night for this past year he’s slept in my bed under my silk sheets with our bodies intertwined with one another. i constantly convince myself it's nothing more than having fun but every time i hear his name i get butterflies and whenever he's near me my heart starts to beat a million times faster. i try to convince myself it's not love, but after being with someone in that way for three years it's impossible for it not to turn into that. but clearly it's possible for him at least. that's why i don't say anything and continue to hide my true feelings because i know he doesn't feel the same way as me and probably never will. i stay up every night with him on my mind and thoughts of what we could be consumes my every thought.

freshman year was the hardest of them all mainly because jj had a girlfriend at the time. i know what i did was wrong but the taste of his lips and the way he touched me that first night was so captivating. i knew from that moment i would never be able to let him go. i tried not to get sucked into him and his player ways, but soon the second night happened and from then it was history. we would meet every thursday night at my place at midnight. he was never late and it made me wonder if he craved my touch as bad as i craved his. we would walk past each other in the streets like we barely knew each other when in reality he knew every curve and mark on my body.

sophomore year was easier than the last since he no longer was with his girlfriend, but also harder because that's when i started catching feelings for him. now since he was single, we could actually be seen together, but still had to be cautious since i was a kook. i never understood the rivalry between the kooks and pogues, but i knew if any of the kooks found out i was with jj all hell would break loose. me and sarah were known as the kook princesses, and since she was dating topper, everyone expected me to date a kook too. before i met jj, i went on a few dates with rafe since thats who my parents wanted me to be with, but after realizing all kook guys are self absorbed assholes, i knew i could never be with any of them. the only kook i can tolerate is sarah, and at times she can even be blinded by the things topper tells her. a couple months into freshman year, i already started to get suffocated at the kook academy and went to the beach to escape, which is where i met kie. the moment i met her we instantly clicked and she invited me to the kegger that they were having that night. thats when i met the rest of the pogues, including jj. we spent the whole night attached at the hip drinking and laughing together. soon enough the guest room at the cheateu was filled with nothing but the sound of our moans. that was the first of many nights we spent there together. 

almost every single day i would meet jj by the beach to spend time with him. whether we were surfing, hanging out on the hms pogue with the others, or eating at the wreck, i just loved being around him. although we weren't together people acted like we were. kie would always say we were unofficially official. soon enough our every thursday night meet-ups became every thursday and friday meet-ups and eventually every night meet-ups. we spent every night together at my place until my parents found out and we needed a new place, so we started hanging out at the chateau.

junior year has been the best one so far. jj and i hung out more in public not caring what anyone else would think and gone on what he calls "non-dates" even though it's exactly what dates are. he's met my younger sister and she absolutely adores him, which now makes me wish we never got our families involved in this since i know he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. i've spent so much time with him that i feel almost empty not being in his arms at night. he knows everything about me and i know everything about him. we've shared all of our secrets and deepest thoughts with each other. i've seen his vulnerable side so much that it's almost impossible for me not to fall in love with him. he's opened up to me and let me in more than anyone else in his life even his best friends. every night is something new with him and i never want it to stop even though i know inevitably it will.

"you remember the second night you stayed at my place and you got scared of my dog" i said laughing as we laid next to each other on my bed talking about our favorite memories together.

"look in my defense, your dog is huge and she woke me up out of my sleep." jj said chuckling slightly.

"she was just being friendly and you wouldn't stop screaming. almost woke up my damn parents."

"don't act like you haven't almost woken up john b before with your clumsy ass. you almost knocked over his whole desk trying to get into the room."

"i'm sorry i'm not an expert at climbing through windows like you."

"well when you've had a lot of practice you know how to." he said cockily.

"oh shut up." he laughed as i tiredly punched his arm, "you know damn well i was the first window you came through." i said sassily.

"you're right. you were."

"wait really? so jj maybank has never snuck into another girl's house before? i'm surprised."

"why?" he asked as he turns his body towards me and moves me so i face him.

"i don't know i guess with your reputation i thought you would've been with a bunch of girls before me."

"you wanna know the truth? you're the first girl i've ever slept with."

"wait what?" i sat up against the headboard looking at him confusingly, "what about your ex or all those tourons you would flirt with?"

"all we would do is flirt and make out a little, but it never went any further. either i was always drunk or they were and i never wanted that to be my first time, you know? and with my ex we were only fourteen and dated for a few months. i told you before i never really felt anything for her. it was all just so i could know what it felt like to be a boyfriend.”

“but we were only fourteen, when we..”

“i know, but it was different with you. you are different.”

"so, that means you were a virgin when we first-"

"yup." he said admittedly.

"wow. well i couldn't tell." i joked.

jj looked at me and chuckled slightly, but i could tell something was off with him. his eyes didn't have the same brightness as usual.

"what's wrong?"

"what do you mean? nothings wrong."

"jj, you can't lie to me. i've known you for way too long and i know when somethings wrong, so what's up."

"i don't know. i-" he sighs deeply as he looks at up at me, "it's just- is that what you think of me? that i'm just some player who fucks any girl that throws herself at me."

"what? no. of course not. i just assumed-"

"because that's not who i ever wanted to be." he said cutting me off, "i never wanted to be like- like my dad, you know?” he says as he looks down at his hands, fiddling with them, “as much as he claims he loved her, he treated my mom like shit. he would get drunk and mess around with a bunch of women because he could never commit. i never wanted to be like that. i never wanted to make a girl feel the way my mom felt. she was so heartbroken when he would come back home smelling of perfume and lie to her face. eventually, she had enough of it and just got up and left. kinda wish she took me with her. but i told myself i would never be like that and then i realized i was. back in freshman year when i cheated on my ex-"

"with me" i looked at him sympathetically understanding why what i said bothered him so much, "look, j you're nothing like your dad. i know i've never met him but from what you told me about him you two are completely different people. you’re nothing like that cheating, abusive asshole, okay? you're such a sweet, kindhearted person who always puts others before yourself, especially when it comes to your friends. i've never seen someone care so much about others than you. you have such a pure, kind soul and nothing will ever change that. i know you cheated on her with me and it probably wasn't the right choice, but it sure as hell wasn't a mistake and i won't call it that. being with you was never a mistake for me and i hope you feel the same about it but this" i say as i motion between us, "will never be something that i regret. i know i've said this before but i believe that this was meant to be and we were meant to find each other. the circumstance might not have been the best, but i found you and that's all that matters. you're nothing like him and never will be."

we both laid in silence looking up at the ceiling while raindrops hit the window softly. i started to wonder if maybe i said something wrong or said too much. i feel so deeply for him and whenever he tries to put himself down it breaks my heart. in my eyes he's the perfect guy despite all his faults. sometimes i think one day i'll tell him how i feel and scare him off which is the last thing i want to do. i want to be able to have these moments with him for as long as i can.

"you know, i want to get married before i have kids." jj said breaking the silence.

"that's random, but alright." i said giggling.

"i was just thinking about my parents and they had me before they even thought of marriage. i think that's where they could've went wrong. maybe if they would've taken the time to actually bound their love together before having a kid, they could've lasted longer. after they had me he could never commit fully because of all the responsibility, so maybe if they already took that step to "finalize" their love he would've stayed." he said shrugging.

"well i always wanted to have kids before i get married because i want my kids to be apart of my wedding."

"i guess we could just have two weddings then."

"huh?" i said confusingly finally looking at him.

he looks back at me and sighs, "yeah, i mean since you want one before and i want one after, we can just have two. we have the real one before and then we can renew our vows and have a second wedding with our kids so they can experience it with us."

"so, we're gonna get married and have kids?" i said smirking at him.

"i-i mean i guess. obviously only if you want to." jj said blushing as he started to look anywhere but at me.

i grab his face so he's looking at me, "i would love to, jj."

we both smile at each other as he pulls me closer to him connecting our lips. when we pull apart, i cuddle up into his chest as we continue to lie in silence. i feel my heart flutter as i feel his hands rub my back soothing me. being in his arms felt like home and i only hope he feels the same. as i start to think about how it would be if we were actually dating, the same words he would always say when we started this repeat in my mind "this is only for fun. no strings attached. no feelings. just pure fun." maybe that's all this will truly ever be, just fun, and that's the thought i have before falling asleep in his arms.

×

when i know she's asleep, i just stay awake and admire how she looks in the moment. even sleeping she has a slight smile on her face, which makes me wonder what she's dreaming about. sometimes i wish it was me she's dreaming about even though i know it's not. "just for fun" i remind myself of the words i said but that couldn't have been more of a lie, especially now more than ever. of course what we had was fun, but it was way more than that.

"i love you" i say as i kiss her forehead and wrap my arms tighter around her soon falling asleep as well.

[surviving---not---living]

What the fuck do I do?...

**tw emotional/physical abuse mentions**

posted this on reddit with different ages and such so he wont find it but he doesnt use tumblr so I wanted to post here to see if yall had some suggestions as well any help would be greatly appreciated or to just know someone read would also be enough... with that said I'll paste the post.

to start I'm 23f and the fiance is 38m

I have an idea of what i should do i just sincerely dont want to i dont want to leave him homeless and without money or a job...

but the last few months have me scared and confused...

(during arguments he let's me write down what's happening when I hear something that stands out to me in Hope's itll help me fix my behaviour i got from my parents so ive been able to write down exact wording on some things said) theres just so much going on...

to preface this hes never been physically abusive to me and thankfully it's not there yet. in his defense though i was raised very incorrectly due to shit parents and I have a lot of mental issues that cause self sabotage, delusional thinking- meaning If I personally believe something it usually takes a small war to get my mind to recognize im actually wrong, as well as terrible memory so if I do acknowledge I've done something wrong more often than not my head forgets what happened or what i even did wrong if anything and the next time it inevitably happens again I have no information to pull from to tell me what I did was wrong or why. so basically I'm kind of a fuck up, I'm doing my best to fix my shit but yeah my fiance has been dealing with all of that for 4 years now.

(*some minorly important issues

•he's been interrupting me not letting me finish what I'm saying and just outright changing the topic since we first got together, although wrong of me I started doing that as well because i saw no other way to be able to speak to him except even when I'm doing the exact same shit hes doing it seems like hes the only allowed to be upset.

•we were in an open relationship except he didnt follow the rules we agreed to one time and that broke my trust I had for him. we said no coworkers, we said only people we were both interested in we said no one that's taken and yet all of those got broken over an ugly bitch. and I still get shit for bringing it up to this day.

•he said that until I start prefacing all of my conversations with him he wont count any attempt I've made at talking to him about my problems. so basically everything I've tried talking to him about doesnt fucking matter and it doesnt fucking count. not even when I tried telling him 3 separate times I'm feeling suicidal to top it off everytime i mentioned it, it ended in an argument.

•he told me he got suicidal thoughts for the first time in 10 years due to me and honestly I didnt know how to fucking respond to that. it made me sad yeah but where was the care I needed when I brought up the same thing? where was his give a fuck hes supposed to show if he actually cares about me??

•he says he interrupts me because what I have to say is either false, not grounded in reality, or they're excuses. except he has little to no way of knowing any of that is true unless he hears me all the way out I could be agreeing with him and he still interrupts and gets pissed.

•I believe hes a hypocrite but he says nah hes only doing this because I'm doing bad.

•hes said multiple times that i wont see any improvement in him until he sees I've got my shit together. even though hes the one that caused the first problems in this relationship I'm supposed to be the first one to fix my shit? instead of both of us working on our shit together??? and when I ask those questions he responds with yes you are supposed to be the first one to fix your shit because I'm at the end of my rope and I wont take this anymore.)

but on to why I've been scared. this person told me he used to be abusive with an equally abusive ex for many reasons and after splitting up he vowed to never do that again and never end up like they did.

fast forward to our relationship and well a few months ago he told me he wanted to hit me and made it a point to say he wasnt going to but he really wanted to.

he said that because we were both in my car and he wanted to leave with the car except I wasnt going to get out of MY car so he started yelling, i got scared and left later on he told me that was the first time hes ever wanted to hit me and I should think about what it is I did to get him to that point. after that I left it alone for a month because things got a bit better and then came the next time he said he wanted to hit me. now I dont remember the reason for him saying it the second time but I wasnt going to let that slip as easily as the first so I spoke up about it and what he had to say about me telling him it made me scared of him to know he wanted to hit me was " well if you Weren't a coward, normally when someone says they want to hit you it's a signal that you're doing something so wrong that they want to hit you." and me knowing him i knew this was one of those times he just wasnt going to budge.

so on to the next argument.

he told me I'm the one who thrust those thoughts into him, that I'm the reason they ever came to be, I'm why the exist in the first place. and he doesnt seem to understand when I say that no I'm not the reason your head wants to hurt me they exist there because of your last relationship letting that be an option. he also said he keeps the option of abuse in his head with a line in front of it to remind him to never pass that line and he doesn't understand that keeping that idea in his head at all is not a good thing because now the option is available whether you want to take it or not and

he. just. kept. arguing. and defending.

now on to the last argument.

he says he wants me to stop putting him in a position to do all the thinking and decision making for me, when I've asked him multiple times to stop doing that because I want to do shit for myself and all he keeps saying is show me that you can actually think for yourself and I'll stop needing to do that. like motherfucker at least give me the time to make decisions or thoughts.

I know it's not his fault that I take longer to process things but he knows this fact and keeps expecting me to already have a response half a second later to something I'm barely registering 5 seconds after it happened and again yes I know its something I have to work on and I am but atm it's still an existing issue.

hes trying to call thinking for me and making decisions for me "a gift" (the exact context for him saying this wasnt written down as I was too upset at the audacity of that claim.)

he wants me to show overwhelming efforts to fix my fucked behavioral issues but the efforts I'm putting in atm dont matter to him and that hes hanging on a single thread hes no longer willing to take anything but Absolute compliance(yes he used the actual words absolute compliance) if he doesnt see me losing sleep to figure out and fix my shit he wont be convinced I'm trying. he ended that segment with him saying hes not using these words to control or manipulate me. he says this is a requirement a yes or no and he wont make his decision on whether he wants to break up with me until I say yes or no to his absolute compliance. he said his decision is solely based on my answer and If i say yes i dont get to back off or get out of it.

I also wrote down a quote he said that was just so arrogant i couldnt leave it out.

"You sit before an artisan of problem solving." -my fiance

soo haha yeahh the last argument happened right before going to bed and I started typing this as soon as I got up and finished my hygiene stuff.

I'm pretty sure if he had never told me he'd wanted to hit me this wouldn't be such a difficult thing to answer... I love him and I have no idea if I should pick him and risk any form of my safety or just let him leave me.. he has no job, no money, and no family to go to.. I know he doesnt care about being homeless but I do care..I fucking love him and I dont want that for him not even for a day... as shitty as he and I can both be I still dont believe that's what he deserves... if he ever finds this hell be even more pissed that I'm even concerned about what he'll do if he leaves.. he always told me to not care and that if I ever do want to leave him to not worry about that and just get it over with sooner.. thing is I dont want to leave I just want my baby back... the one that didnt yell or didnt want to hit me at all... I want our old relationship back.. I guess I want to know if that's even possible at this point. any words from anyone would be really nice right now.. if only to just feel like someone's talking to me.. my fiance is literally the only person I talk to and the closest thing to a friend I have. and i dont tell my parents any of what's happening because they're stressed enough so I've been basically alone for 4 years with no one but my fiance to talk to..

granted it's my fault I havent made other friends but I've been so stressed recently that I havent done much about it for many reasons..

update: he just finished telling me that hes only had half a burger in the last 3 days, (due to stress) he just wanted to let me know that apparently.