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blakelywintersfield · 4 years ago

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Minors

Okay so, I originally wrote this in response to this post (my friend's reblog is linked instead of the original because OP either deleted it from their blog I guess?), but I feel like this constitutes as its own post.

I know this may sound like an overbearing parent "don't trust strangers on the internet" talk, but like. I don't think a lot of you understand just how quickly a situation can escalate; it's scary. I mean that not in a condescending "you think you're untouchable you stupid little child, you don't really know what the world is like" way either, but as in, I don't think internet safety is being taught realistically, so those things you're told to watch out for are far-fetched or already seem suspect.

Predators don't work the way TV shows joke that they do -- most predators aren't going to try and message you at random posing as a teenage girl and attempt to strike up a friendship. A lot interact in community spaces like tumblr, where some level of anonymity is allowed, and it's not odd for there to be people of both minor and adult ages. They interact with a variety of people -- not just targets. They will have full-fledged social circles. Their blogs and social interactions will look like literally any other person's on here.

Then, of the different blogs they follow, they end up interacting a lot with a certain user. Maybe the kind of humor clicks, or similar opinions, or interests. Nothing out of the ordinary; that's how people make friends. Maybe then they start by sending an ask, or a message, or whatever, and that continues for a bit until you two are kind of acclimated to one another, and then, as far as everyone is concerned, it's just a new friend! Neat! That's how you make friends on the internet. They most likely did this with their other friends on tumblr. Nothing weird. In this hypothetical, the minor party has their full name and city public.

But then this person you make friends with -- the way you would any other person on this website -- turns out to be 10+ years your senior. Which like. Honestly, you don't have to cut them out of your life and block them immediately, but you inform them you're 10 years younger than them. A responsible adult would respond to that knowledge with anything from the range of "oh holy shit you're baby uhh I feel a little weird interacting with you so personally" to "oh goodness you are a youngling I will now enter caregiver/parent-like mode". And there will be an established tone from there of "we may still interact but there is going to always be a set emotional distance". It'll have a different dynamic/feeling to the friendships you have with people your age. And it should. Both parties can still care about each other! But this isn't someone you would like. Hang out one on one with. You wouldn't hang out with your mom's friend one on one, or at your teacher's home alone. That'd be weird, right? That should be the same kind of vibe you get with any adult "friendship" you make online (I put friendship in quotes because I feel like... there's a better term for it, or should be one that establishes that adult/minor relationship, but if there is I can't for the life of me remember it).

But maybe that person doesn't go down that path. Maybe it comes off that way at first, but there's a subtle level of emotional manipulation that is subtle enough that you're not certain you can accuse them of being manipulative. "Oh wow, you're so much younger than me... do you still want to talk to me / be friends / etc.? I can leave you alone now if you want." Warning sign #1: they are pressuring you to make the decision; they are placing responsibility on you. And it might feel a little mean to just drop communication all of a sudden because of age -- you got along fine before. Why should that change anything? That's a rational thought process, but it's also the one that benefits them too.

So hypothetically, you say "no it's okay, we can still talk. we were talking just fine before we found out each other's ages so why should that change?" And then maybe the conversation continues normally from there. But then they continue interacting with you as your peers would. You guys talk about stuff that's been stressing you or your problems, just like you would with your peers. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Warning sign #2: That form of emotional connection isn't normal with an adult/minor relationship. I have minors that follow me. They have talked to me about their problems, and I've offered advice and wisdom; I don't condemn that because, well. As adults, we should help guide the younger if asked. But when it comes to my troubles, I limit how much I discuss with them. I don't bring them up myself (it's often brought up by the other party because I'll post about it on here, like a vent post or whatever). And while I don't brush them off with a short "don't worry about it", I make it clear -- I appreciate that you care enough to make sure I'm okay (because their sympathy / care is just as valuable as an adult's), but even if I'm not okay, the burdens and problems surrounding my troubles will be dealt with by me. I don't ask them for advice. I don't goad them for sympathetic words. And it's not that I believe they couldn't give good advice, or their sympathy means less, but an adult should not be relying on a minor for those levels of emotional labor. That established emotional connection where both parties exchange advice and comfort is how predators manipulate their victims because it's subtle and seemingly harmless, and difficult to paint them as a bad person when you have that level of emotional trust.

And once that emotional connection is established, that's when things can escalate, and get scary, quickly.

One day while talking they will probably bring it up -- the way one of your peers would. Something along the lines of "hey can I tell you something?" or "there's something I want to tell you but I'm afraid you won't want to talk to me anymore if I do" etc. etc.; with that peer/peer dynamic, that'll make you anxious, sure. You'd probably get anxious if they were your own age and said that too. So then, it comes out in some form that "I like you, but like... as more than a friend" or "I think you're really cute; I have for a bit now actually" or something similar. Obviously then it's uncomfortable.

But then you realize -- this is an adult. This is someone who has access to transportation. This is someone that doesn't have to report to someone (i.e. a minor can't just say "I'm going out of town for a week bye!" like your parents would, or SHOULD, be like "uh okay where are you going, who are you going to be with, why, etc. etc. etc."). And they know your full name and a general idea of where you live. You could just block them then and there and remove that information from your blog. But what if they already saved it? What if they already used one of those websites where you can look up a person's address by name for $5? What if they already know where you live, and they had planned on asking to meet up? They might know where you live. And you can't confirm or deny that they know. You can't say for sure if you removed that information before they saved it and used it for that purpose. Suddenly, there's the very real possibility that a pedophile that admitted to being attracted to you knows where you live.

Then what do you do? You should tell your parents or a trusted authority figure. But you're also a teenager and there's the likelihood that your parents might brush it off, or get angry with you, and you might get your internet taken away, etc., which is stressful because that takes away a major social area. To build upon the anxiety with that, there's the risk of unknowing if this person does know where you live, and if they do, if they are just unstable enough to do something drastic, like, y'know. Kidnap you. Because they know where you live. And they may know your school schedule too. And if your parents or trusted authority figure doesn't know about this situation, you may end up a missing child never found at worst, or found with far more trauma (5 years of life being kidnapped as opposed to a few months) that could've been avoided had someone known the situation.

But to 100% ensure your safety, it would have to be reported to the police. Because your parents can't do anything about the fact that a pedophile on the internet might know where you live. They can't confirm or deny that they know, and if they did, there's not much they can do other than keep an eye out for someone that looks out of the ordinary. But if they're most likely not home at the same time you are all the time. So, having the police involved ensures your safety -- if you open a case. You can report it to the police, and they'll ask: do you want to press charges (because it could be considered a form of child endangerment). If you say no, then that guarantees if you are kidnapped, that person would be the first they'd look to as a suspect. But to avoid that kidnapping risk at all, you'd have to say yes. And you're a kid that's now having to get involved in court just to avoid any risk to your safety because a pedophile may or may not have your address and may or may not be someone that would abduct their target, and so even if they didn't have your address and wouldn't kidnap you, you are now in a legal situation, which is. extremely. stressful. As someone's who's dealt with the court system a lot it's stressful no matter what.

And sure, you could omit the last step. But then you'll have that looming anxiety for as long as you're a minor that there is a possibility this person may show up at your house at some point. And that anxiety is fucking torture. I know it firsthand, I know all of this up to the legal portion firsthand, because this is exactly how I got tangled up with a pedophile in high school. That anxiety can make you paranoid. It impacts your sleep, which impacts your emotional tolerance and your concentration. It looms and there's nothing you can do to get rid of it other than convince yourself "they probably don't have my address; they probably won't find me". And that logic becomes sounder as time passes. But it requires time to pass, and in the meantime, you sit in constant suffering suspense.

It's just not fucking worth it, okay? You might think "this would never happen to me" but like. I was the fat emo weirdo in high school, literally considered attractive by no one and told so by peers and I still had it happen to me. So don't think "I'm not appealing enough" or whatever. Put self-esteem issues aside here, because to them, you're underage and at a power dynamic disadvantage not just physically, but most likely emotionally too. They care that you're a certain (under)age and can be manipulated into sexual acts. They will target you no matter how ugly you think you are or how unattractive your peers have convinced you.

So please. As an adult, that went through this situation (and could've had it turn out a lot worse tbh) -- do not disclose your real name (especially last names), location more specific than country, phone number, or school publicly online or to anyone you cannot 100% trust. I practice half of these in adulthood just to err on the side of caution since a full name and phone number alone could be used to find my address, and there are some preeeeetty unstable people out there. As a minor, absolutely no one needs any information unless you plan on meeting them in person, which should only be done after you've gotten to know them extremely well and both parties' parents know and are involved. It doesn't need to be on your public profile, and it shouldn't be on your public profile. I want your social media experience to be as enjoyable as possible, I don't want you feeling like you have to constantly keep an eye out for predators. But to keep yourself as safe as possible, don't purposefully make that information public. It's simple, but it’ll help you avoid so much potential stress.

Please stay safe.

#safety #internet safety #minor safety

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years ago

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So I looked through a detransition blog just out of curiosity, since it was one you reblogged, but now I’m super... freaked out? I have a top surgery consultation in April but now I have this weird fear that I’m faking it or that I’ll regret it afterwards. I’ve identified as somewhere along non-binary and trans (he/they!) for over a year, and I’ve known I’m not a girl for even longer, but now I’m just so afraid that maybe I don’t know myself at all. Do you have any advice on what this is?

Lee says:

Discussing your feelings with a therapist can sometimes help you untangle the anxiety from everything else. It’s reasonable to have some apprehension about a major surgery that can have a big impact on your life because it is a big change- and like any other surgery, it also has medical risk and can result in complications.

And reading about other people’s feelings about their surgeries can be helpful! I do recommend reading things from people who were happy with the outcome and reading things from people who weren't to get a better perspective on the range of experiences that can exist. Only reading the negative or the positive doesn’t provide a balanced view!

But even if you read other people’s stories, and talk to them about why they feel the way they do about their choices and bodies, nobody else can tell you what you should do for yourself. Even a therapist can’t know for sure if you will regret surgery (or anything else that you choose to do) because nobody can see into the future, see into your heart, and see into mind simultaneously to and determine for certain what it is that you need.

As soon as I came out as non-binary when I was 15, I started saving money for top surgery. I was someone who ran towards top surgery at full tilt and I didn’t give myself any space for doubt about whether it was the right choice for me because I felt it was the only choice I had-- forwards or nothing. I was pretty severely depressed at the time and had a brief hospitalization the month before I turned 18, and I was sort of pinning all my hopes on top surgery reducing my dysphoria and booting out my depression. So I scheduled my consultation as soon as I turned 18 and was legally an adult and could do so without parental permission. I immediately scheduled my surgery for the soonest available date, and had inverted-T incision top surgery about 3 months after I turned 18.

Now I’m 21 years old, and I’m 3 years and 5 months post-op from my top surgery.

In retrospect, top surgery was 110% the right choice for me. If I could do it all over again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Top surgery really did reduce my dysphoria by a significant amount, and that made it easier for me to cope with my depression and other mental health issues. I was proudly parading around the house shirtless as soon as I was able to stop using post-op compression, before my incisions had even healed into scars.

I don’t have any dysphoria about my chest anymore, especially now that I’ve gotten tattoos to cover my scars. I finally feel like I look like how I always knew I was meant to look.

I don’t post pictures of my chest anymore because I have distinguishing tattoos but I’ve posted a few before/after pictures when I was 3 years post-op and I think things have only gotten better now.

I was lucky to not have any complications; I don’t have any nerve pain, and hypertrophic or keloid scarring, and I didn’t need any revisions. But there are some things that are non-ideal compared to if I had just been born with a typical cis-guy flat chest. My nips are a little wonky in color and shape, and I plan on getting medical tattoos at some point to even the edges out. I also have slightly muted sensation in my chest now, so everything is like slightly number than it was before.

When I was pre-op, I did enjoy having nipple sensation that was pleasurable; even though I had inverted t-incision top surgery which preserved the nipple stalk, I still only have tactile, temperature, and pain sensations in my chest. If you put an ice cube on my nipple and my eyes were closed, I’d know it was cold. If you poked me while I was looking away, I’d still feel it. And if you squeezed me, it would hurt. But somehow it doesn’t feel good anymore like it used to.

I don’t know how much of that loss in erotic sensation is a mental thing and how much is a physical change caused by scar tissue build up around the nerve. But regardless, it is a real loss.

For me, that loss is well worth it. While I might have been physically capable of experiencing erotic nipple/chest sensation before, I rarely actually did have that experience because it made me too dysphoric and I didn’t like to take my shirt off during sex. Now I feel more fully present and comfortable in my own body and it makes me more engaged so I can focus on my partner and on the other feelings I’m having and how I look isn’t something that is detracting from the experience.

In general, top surgery has made my life better in a million ways. I love running shirtless with my college cross country team, I like going swimming at the beach with no shirt, and I like the way I look now when I see myself in a mirror after stepping out of the shower.

When I get dressed in the morning, my day starts off on a neutral note because it’s just me putting on clothes. Sometimes I pause to think about how I can just put on a shirt and feel good about it and move on. Before, I used to be upset every morning because the first thing I’d be reminded of when I woke up was that my chest was there and I didn’t want it to be. I’m Autistic, and binding was Not comfortable for me sensory-wise, so not having to bind was also nice.

I would choose to get top surgery again, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the right choice for each and every person. I am sure it was the right choice for me, and I have no regrets at all, I never want to have breasts again. But someone else might think that not having erotic nipple sensation is a dealbreaker, or they might not be comfortable with scars if they tend to heal with more visible raised scars that are harder to cover with a tattoo like I did mine.

So I can tell you that top surgery has made my life better and I’m glad I got it and I don’t think that there would have been any way for me to be as happy as I am now if I had not gotten it. Top surgery is life saving and life-changing for some people, and I am one of those people. I might be more inclined to tell people that if you think you need surgery you should get it because my surgery went so well and because I’m still identifying as genderqueer, transmasculine, and non-binary, just like I was when I was 15, so my identity is pretty static there.

Some other post-op people may tell you that they regret their surgery, that they wish they hadn’t done it, and they would make a different decision if they could go back in time. They might want to help warn other people to not make the same mistake that they did. Detransitioned folks often (but not always) have a different perspective than folks who persisted in being transgender and that’s okay- it isn’t a better perspective or a worse one, just a different one. But both trans and reidentified people can feel this way, even though it’s usually more common for de-trans folks to regret surgical procedures that it is for trans folks.

I semi-rushed into surgery for both emotional and logistical reasons but I knew it was right for me. But that isn’t the best choice for everyone and if you aren’t 100% sure that it is what you want and need then there’s nothing wrong with having the consultation with the surgeon to learn more and then thinking things over before you schedule a surgery date (or don’t), you don’t need to immediately schedule a surgery date after the consult. Think of it as an interview and as an information gathering session.

Neither of us can tell you what you should do because neither of us are “right” or “wrong” about top surgery. It’s just a different experience and a different perspective. We all have biases based on our own way of seeing things, and that can inform our advice.

If you know what the risks are, and you’ve given it careful thought and can provide an informed consent, then whether you should get surgery is your decision. I won’t tell you “go get it!” or “don’t go get it!” and I don’t think that any blogger should be telling anons what medical procedures to get or not get.

Worrying that you’re faking it, that you don’t know who you are, and worrying about regret is something that can be pretty scary and frustrating, but you don’t need to figure it out on your own, and it’s okay to take a little longer to come to a decision and talk it over with a therapist if you think it’s necessary to help you cope with that anxiety.

But yeah, I believe that ultimately you have to trust your gut feelings on what you know to be right for you.

Top surgery 101 links

Finding a therapist

Side note: While we do our best to avoid reblogs from obvious TERFs/truscum/transphobes/racists/sexists/ableists/etc to avoid exposing people to triggering content by boosting the blog’s visibility, and we do appreciate getting heads up asks about reblogs from a problematic OP, if we reblog a post from someone we do not necessarily endorse all of the content in every post they’ve made, and we don’t necessarily agree with all of the blogger’s opinions either. We reblog a specific post if we think seeing that post might be helpful for some of our followers.

#Lee says #top surgery #detransition #regret #surgery #nipple m #breast m #detrans #trans #nonbinary #Anonymous

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diamondsableye · 4 years ago

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TERF misinformation going around - and why it’s wrong.

So I got some advice from @terf-tips (Satire account DW), @tifs-against-terfs and @uncanny-tranny so I’m gonna follow that advice.

So this is an ultra condensed version because I know super long posts can be pr intimidating, lets get to the point. Anon sends in repulsive ask to a TERF blog, I came across the ask while scrolling and found a TERF in the replies. TERF says that dysphoria is 100% social. I provide reasons why it isn’t. TERF then claims that transitioning never treats or helps dysphoria basically ever (while using some extremely transphobic phrasing mind you.) I was like “WTF no??” and gave resources, and told them to prove their claim. TERF made a post that for one didn’t even try proving their initial claim, and for another used incredibly dishonest tactics to try and prove it. I wrote a super substantial post debunking it. The problem? TERF turned off replies so no one could see my debunk, and it’s currently catching on in radfem communities. That’s alright though, because I don’t want to give any more exposure to TERF OP, so here I am.

Study 1 mentioned: “Proof” that being trans was a social contagion, IE “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” (If someone ever brings this up, laugh of them because they obviously see scientific research as a joke) -Research conductor did not interview the actual children, they interviewed the parents instead -The parents were all contacted through gender critical and radfem websites only, creating a huge selection bias -Research conductor’s work wasn’t removed due to “Trans activists”, they were kicked out of academia for being a shit researcher.

Study 2 mentioned: Swedish study analyzing long term effects of SRS -Study compared post SRS trans people to the general population which is not proportional or accurate and messes with the data’s findings -Study acknowledges that they did not correct for this and that the data is skewed -Study does not call for the end of transition, but rather that trans people should have also have other resources available to them for their mental health -The researchers themselves saw TERFs using this study as a way to discredit transition and made a public statement that their data should not be taken this way

Study 3 mentioned: not a study, an article from The Guardian from 2004 -Article too old to be considered accurate anymore -Data was even older and analyzed by a single professor -Data only shows that the older studies weren’t organized well and that the data was inconclusive, nothing along the lines condemning transition

Study 4 mentioned: TERF OP “cites” a report from 2014 -Just shows a screenshot of a conclusion which references the study -Didn’t list the actual study itself, nor the report which referenced it -TERF OP is likely lying and obscuring data -Shown conclusion itself just said that data was inconclusive

Study 5 mentioned: 2016 report on the medical status of trans people from the Obama Administration, TERF OP framed it as looking at all trans medical care -Only looked at the results of SRS -Only looked at trans people 65+ and on medicare -Once again, data was only inconclusive

If you see any of these studies used at all by TERFs, ignore them, they are complete bunk. TERF OP finishes their post with a long ramble about how they’re only trying to help trans people. My message to anyone who is trans or supports trans people is this: no. They are lying. TERFs absolutely do not care about you or your well being at all, if they did they wouldn’t be TERFs. They only want to make you think they care about you. Memorize this, if you are trans, or hell even just GNC, TERFs are not on your side, and they never will be. They may not explicitly say it, but they are fundamentally against your existence. Remember this and take it to heart.

Below the cut here I have in depth sources about the benefit of medically transitioning, and screenshots of the original debunk. Transitioning helps trans people, this is not up for debate. You don’t have to but I encourage you to reblog this to help stop the spread of misinformation. Take care and stay safe y’all.

TRANSITIONING HELPS TRANS PEOPLE:

https://whatweknow.inequality.cornell.edu/topics/lgbt-equality/what-does-the-scholarly-research-say-about-the-well-being-of-transgender-people/ -ENORMOUS meta-meta-analysis on transgender people and the effect gender transition has on their mental health -Of 56 studies, 52 indicated transitioning has a positive effect on the mental health of transgender people and 4 indicated it had mixed or no results. -ZERO studies indicated gender transitioning has negative results

https://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/134/4/696 -Longitudinal study on the effectiveness of puberty suppression & sex reassignment surgery on trans individuals in improving mental outcomes -Unambiguously positive results - results indicate puberty suppression, support of medical professionals & SRS have markedly beneficial outcomes to trans individuals’ mental health and productivity.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/j.1365-2265.2009.03625.x -Meta-analysis of studies concerning individuals who underwent sex reassignment surgery -80% of individuals reported significant improvement in dysphoria -78% of individuals reported significant improvement in psychological symptoms -72% of individuals reported significant improvement in sexual function

https://www.jaacap.org/article/S0890-8567%2816%2931941-4/fulltext -Children who socially transition report levels of depression and anxiety which closely match levels reported by cisgender children, indicating social transition massively decreases the risk factor of both.

https://www.eurekalert.org/pub_releases/2015-03/tes-sdc030615.php -“A new study has confirmed that transgender youth often have mental health problems and that their depression and anxiety improve greatly with recognition and treatment of gender dysphoria”

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6223813/ -Longitudinal study which indicates transgender people have a lower quality of life than the general population. -However, that quality of life raises dramatically with ‘Gender Affirming Treatment’, the nature of which is detailed extensively in-text.

SCREENSHOTS OF OG POST DEBUNKING TERF (WARNING, EXTREMELY LONG READ): https://ibb.co/Rg6sP2g (Part 1) https://ibb.co/3hdgQVS (Part 2) https://ibb.co/8gTqWjk (Part 3) https://ibb.co/XCJTPDc (Part 4) https://ibb.co/7JyJM22 (Part 5)

#trans #transgender #trans discourse #tw trans discourse #tw suicice #studies #science #research #misinformation #fuck off terfs #lgbt #no terfs allowed #terfs dni #terfs do not fucking interact

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otonymous · 4 years ago

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A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part IV (End): Courage, My Love

Description: The final chapter. The Big Bang 😉 Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: physically aggressive behaviour, ex-boyfriends, angst, size kink, profanity, vaginal fingering and intercourse Word Count: 4237 words (~21 mins of thrills, real talk, fluff and smut) Author’s Notes: To all the lovelies who have been patiently following this story: you’ve made it! 🥳 Welcome to the final chapter in this Shaw saga, where we aim to go out with a massive bang (pun intended 😆). Once again, thank you all for every like, reblog, and comment I’ve received on this story. You are all amazing, and I appreciate your support! 💕

As always, tagging the lovely @op-peccatori — I hope you enjoyed this story! I certainly had lots of fun writing this! Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, dear readers, and happy reading!

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

The quiet is back.

But there is no peace, no relief in the monotony that follows after the man known as Shaw burst into your life like a bolt from the blue, stirring up long forgotten feelings like dead leaves animated by a carefree wind — here one minute, gone the next.

And with each passing day, hope erodes.

Little by little, your heart learns not to race as the clock above the magazine rack approaches 1:30.

It becomes harder to remember the sound purple sneakers made walking through the store.

You stop hoping, wishing, to see a head of lavender hair; that the next person to approach the register would place a cup of Pepsi mixed with Coke on the counter, amber-eyed gaze speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Days become weeks, and then eventually…

…you stop counting them altogether.

* * *

“You’re looking good. I see you’re doing well for yourself.”

He reaches for the jade pendant hanging around your neck, eyes flashing with amusement when you hit his hand away with an audible smack.

“What the hell do you want? Haven’t you already done enough?” You say through grit teeth, steps quickening as you head for the better lit part of the street, trying to outpace the man and silently cursing the fact that returning to the convenience store was no longer an option at this point.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. It took a lot of effort to track you down and I waited a very long time for you to get off work. It’s cold, dark and lonely out here. Is that any way to treat your boyfriend? Or friend, at least?”

“ ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ asshole, and you’re no friend of mine, especially not after the way you took my life’s savings and ran.”

“Baby, it wasn’t like that—”

“Oh yeah?! Did you try telling that to the loan sharks too before they came and trashed my place? I had to move, Leto, because it wasn’t safe for me anymore, not with the way they kept harassing me and the neighbours asking about your whereabouts. They even came to my office. I lost my fucking job. So don’t come around here and tell me that I’m doing well for myself.”

Breaking into a sprint, your mind races as you try to think of a way to lose your ex, anger and anxiety prickling every nerve in equal measure. He had ruined your life, singlehandedly taken away everything you had. And though you had known him once, desperation has a way of making monsters out of men.

And right now, for all you knew, he was desperate and dangerous.

“Please, I just want to talk. I don’t need much this time, just a little bit to get me through this rough patch. I’ll pay you back, I swear, just…just STOP FOR A MOMENT!—”

You shriek to feel Leto wrap his hand about your wrist, but before he could tighten his grip, another arm is thrown around your shoulder, pulling you back until you’re pressed up against a hard, muscular chest, staring at a close up of Snoopy riding a skateboard.

“You got business with my girl?”

That voice. Dangerous and cocksure, yet comforting like nothing else as the muffled words reverberate through the tiny bones of your ear, a prelude to the soothing ba-bump of his heart, rhythm steady and concrete as the ground upon which you stood.

Shaw.

He’s really here.

“Hehe. Your girl?” The derision in Leto’s voice makes you sick to your stomach; you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop as he looks Shaw up and down, zeroing in on his old t-shirt. “Tsk, tsk. So, not only do you enjoy wearing second hand clothing, you also have the habit of picking up sloppy seconds?”

BOOM!

Deafening thunder rolls moments after a bolt of lightning rends the night sky in two, throwing a jagged spotlight on the fury written on Shaw’s face when he moves just as fast to grab a fistful of Leto’s collar. The muscles of his forearm bulge as he holds up the entirety of Leto’s bodyweight in one hand, the sky opening in a sudden downpour as your ex struggles in midair, rain dripping almost comically from dangling feet.

And when Shaw brings Leto’s terrified face up close, the ferocity in those amber eyes sends a chill up your spine.

“This is the last time you’ll ever talk to her, see her, even think about her. Or else I’ll find you and take my sweet time making you wish you were never born, do you understand me?”

Head bobbing in vigorous nods, drops of water fly off the tips of Leto’s rain-slicked hair. Seemingly satisfied, Shaw tosses him onto the ground at your feet, voice low yet audible as it cuts through the din of the storm when he says, “Beg for her forgiveness.”

The fear in his expression almost palpable, Leto looks between you and Shaw — cowardice etched onto features you had once found so pleasing a lifetime ago. He prostrates himself onto the wet pavement, voice cracking in between sobs as he yells over the sound of the rain:

“P-please…please forgive me! I’m a piece of shit! I’m nothing, I’m garbage! I…I deserve to go to Hell for what I did to you! I-I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

Leto reaches out a shaky hand towards your soaked shoes before he remembers Shaw’s warning, but it is too late. Black combat boots hit the concrete hard within an inch of Leto’s face as Shaw stoops, yanking back a fistful of hair and pulling until your ex is looking up at you like a pitiful supplicant begging for mercy.

“Satisfied?” Shaw looks to you as if he were asking about something as mundane as the weather. You nod, suddenly too tired to even speak. You wanted to wash your hands of Leto, wanted nothing to do with all that had happened since you finished your shift at the convenience store. All you could do was watch as Leto scrambled away on all fours the moment Shaw loosened his hold, running until he was nothing more than a speck of darkness merging with the night.

The rain is cold, wetness driving against your body to leech even the final bits of warmth from bone. Your clothes are drenched, heavy as they cling uncomfortably to skin. But you are too drained to care, lacking the energy to even notice when the dim light of the streetlamp above is blotted out — Shaw holding his leather jacket over your head in the place of an umbrella.

All you are aware of before your vision goes dark is the anxiety in his voice when he calls your name over and over again, how weightless it felt to be carried in the cradle of his arms.

How much you missed the scent you thought you had learned to forget.

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

“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

You opened your eyes to gaze into irises of warm amber, the situation similar to one you experienced before except for the fact that this time, you were the one lying in bed, staring at a man who sat on its edge, brows knit with concern beneath soft lavender strands.

“If you slept for any longer, I would’ve had to knock on your neighbour’s door.” Shaw chuckles but the sound is hollow, mirthlessness obvious like the blanched knuckles of his tightly clenched fists.

“What…how did we…” You begin, voice raspy as it dies, a sudden sharp pain in your throat making you wince.

And immediately, Shaw is on his feet, rummaging through cupboards in your kitchen until he finds a glass. You watch him run the tap, fill it to the brim. Feel the strength of his arm around your back as he holds you up, touch lingering even as you down the water in gulps to chase the discomfort away.

“You passed out not long after your douchebag of an ex ran off with his tail between his legs. I found your keys in your purse, so I let myself into your apartment — hope you don’t mind. Although, to be fair, I was also carrying you at the time, so it’s not really breaking and entering.”

Head feeling like it would explode as the events of the evening come rushing back, you turn towards him…slowly…slowly, afraid Shaw might disappear before your eyes should any movement prove too sudden.

Thank him. Now. Before he goes away again.

He is close, so close that you can count those long, beautiful lashes; almost feel the minuscule shifts in the air between you every time he blinks — those pupils encroaching onto gold as they expand and pulling you into their depths as they do.

“Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t flinch at your question, and you can’t bring yourself to be shocked by the discrepancy between what you meant to say and the words actually spilling from your lips. And as the grey memory of days spent counting the hours of his absence settles like lead in the pit of your stomach, the only thing you knew was that your heart couldn’t survive latching onto this sliver of hope only to have it ripped away again.

All you wanted…was the truth.

“Because I can’t stand to see you sad anymore.”

There is no smirk to stretch across that handsome face, only pain that hurts your heart to see it. Resignation heavy in his voice, Shaw takes a deep breath before he continues.

“Turns out I’m weak when it comes to you. Selfish. I know I’m no good for you; there’s no future with me. I can’t give you anything, can’t even promise you tomorrow, but…I just can’t stop thinking about you. Wondering how you are. Whether you’re eating well, sleeping well. If you’re safe…happy.

“Tonight wasn’t supposed to happen. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that some asshole wasn’t going to hassle you at work. But then your ex showed up and when he tried to get fresh with you, well…I couldn’t let that slide.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but…I’m sorry, if I ever made you sad, if I scared you. I’m sorry for everything.”

His gaze drops to the rip in his jeans, the drip, drip of the leaky faucet the only sound in the ensuing silence of his confession. That is, until you say,

“I’m sorry too…that you’re such an idiot.”

His head whips up, brows furrowed and mouth slack as if caught in a rare moment of speechlessness. The shock makes him seem years younger, lending him an air of innocence that you couldn’t help but smile at.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions. I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what I would be getting into by being with you. You say you can’t promise me tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. All we can ask for — hope for — is the here and now.

“Love takes courage, as does life. But a life without love…it’s not much of a life, is it? So I’m willing to be brave if that’s what it’ll take for us to be together.”

As quickly as they came, the words are gone, leaving you cotton-mouthed and faint as your heart pounds to send the blood rushing to your ears. That could’ve been the only explanation as to why Shaw’s “I knew there was a reason why I loved you” sounded so muffled you had to ask him to repeat himself.

“Too bad, I only say things once.”

And there it is again: the spark in his eyes, smirk on those lips — igniting the fire you only allowed yourself to feel in dreams of his body on yours, skin to skin like kindling to flame.

“Are you that single-minded about everything?” You ask, the smile on your face mirroring his as it approaches closer…

“Only when it comes to not letting go of the one I care about.”

…closer…

“Tell me one thing.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

…and closer still.

Lips now a hair’s breadth apart, the gentle rhythm of his exhalation blows soft upon your cupid’s bow; a shy request. Your vision is filled with him, wonderfully awash with colour — lavender, amber, the soft pink of his mouth — and you wished you were the very clothes upon his body; saturated in his intensity, dyed in his hues.

His eyes fixate on your tongue when you wet your lips before asking, “That night, when you were hurt so badly you passed out in my store…why did you still insist on coming in?”

Shaw’s breath catches, hitching in his throat. You know because you can feel it, the way the warmth stops short on your skin. And when he speaks, the eyes that hold yours tell you this is no lie.

“Because if it was going to be the last night of my life, I didn’t want to go without seeing your face one more time.”

Love is a funny thing. Formless, senseless, yet the strongest thing that could bind two strangers. You hadn’t known Shaw for long, could count the days you spent together on one hand. And still, entirely without reason, he bled into each and every hour, crept into the darkest corners of your mind to fill your weary heart with a desperation that made it very clear that love was far from done with you.

That right or wrong, the only place you wanted to be was here — held in the arms that wrapped around your body: hot, tight, safe…

…Shaw.

His lips are softer than you ever imagined when he brings his face to yours, plush silk gliding corner to corner to cover your mouth in reverent kisses — one for each night he came into your store, watched over you from afar.

Your stalwart protector.

You tasted it now, the remnants of cinnamon on his tongue from the gum he was so fond of chewing, intensified by the memory of all the times you wondered about its flavour: pink bubbles popping in his mouth as he coolly dealt with the robber, the night you emptied his pockets as your neighbour stitched him up on your bed.

Shaw tasted sweet. Far sweeter than you ever imagined.

And when his tongue slides against yours — slow and sure as it explores your mouth with increasing fervour before drawing back just as you clenched around emptiness, yearning for more, the beast within you refuses to abide.

You like the shock that passes over his face when you move, sudden and forceful, to push him onto the mattress beneath you; the artless way Shaw sinks teeth into his bottom lip in response. You like how he watches as you straddle his hips — gaze earnest and body honest, hardening as you grind undulating circles upon his groin.

But, perhaps most of all, you liked the spark of something wild in those amber eyes, an unpredictability warning that if you weren’t careful, you’d be the one to find yourself pinned to the bed.

Because wasn’t that ultimately the push-and-pull that characterized so much between you and him? Maddening at times, but always, always binding you to Shaw like some red string of fate.

So you nod when he whispers “May I?”, unable to suppress a moan to finally feel his hands on you: tracing along your jaw, cradling your face…resting the pad of his finger on your lip before pushing past to stroke your tongue.

Every sound he makes pleases; the soft hiss preceding the bob of his Adam’s apple to feel your lips pucker around his finger to suck, pink tongue enticing as it swirls along the length of that digit, drawing it deeper into the hot wetness of your mouth.

You never saw yourself as seductive before, but Shaw made you feel sexy. Perhaps the impulse stemmed from some primitive desire, an instinctive call to please the man you felt so profoundly for that shame was the farthest thing from your mind when you pulled his hand from your lips to guide it to your breast, only partially aware of how wet you were becoming from his gaze alone — half-lidded and heavy with lust.

The heat of his touch permeates your blouse, white and transparent still in patches from the rain. You watch his hands as they play: cupping your breasts in a gentle squeeze, thumbs and forefingers catching your nipples to pinch and roll until they stood stiff against the drape of your clothing, the flush of your flesh bold through fabric.

“You’re so beautiful that there are times I think you can’t possibly be real.”

His voice is low, husky. You let it wash over you, almost frightened by how stupidly happy you become, willing the magic to linger even as his words dissipate amongst the sounds of the night: neon buzzing and the faraway screams of sirens in the distance.

A world apart.

Your hands find the broad expanse of his chest, tracing along muscle before circling the nipples that stood erect against his damp t-shirt. Each twitch is endearing, every erratic breath he draws to feel your touch making you fall harder. And when he tries to focus on unbuttoning your blouse while fighting the impulse to tear it clean off your body, the stirring between your legs grows in intensity until he finally pulls the silken panels aside, a quiet gasp escaping his lips to see his necklace nestled between your breasts.

“It really does belong on you.”

The admiration in his tone is laced with a hint of possessiveness that makes you throb. Shaw pushes himself to sitting, gathering you onto his lap in one smooth motion as he buries his face in your chest, inhaling deep. You gasp to feel gentle teeth sink into the flesh of your breasts, Shaw following the chain of precious metal with his lips until it leads to the pendant. And when his tongue slips out to draw the piece of jade into his mouth, he brings your nipple along with it.

“Oh!…”

The sensation is unlike any you’ve known before, the soft wetness of his pliant tongue a searing contrast with the cool, smooth stone rubbing against the sensitive tip of your breast in equal measure. You feel his smile on your skin when you fist your hands into lavender hair, spine curving as your legs begin to tremble.

And he had yet to touch you below the waist.

“Your body responds so well to me. I knew you were a good girl.” He looks up at you, teasing shamelessly even as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

“Just your girl, if you’ll have me,” you say without second thought, long past the point of caring to keep your cards close to your chest.

Something breaks in that expression, the final walls crumbling like dust when Shaw blinks once…twice, revealing eyes that shine with emotion when he replies, “For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

* * *

“Hmm!—”

Your moan is muffled, swallowed by Shaw’s greedy lips like he does with every sound of ecstasy that leaks like you do around his cock, buried impossibly deep in your body as it rocks back and forth, back and forth on his muscular thighs…

…doing your best to adjust to his ample size.

He had barely suppressed a chuckle when you first slipped your hand into his jeans, a subtle mix of pride and amusement on his face to see your eyes widen when you couldn’t quite wrap palm and fingers around the entirety of his girth.

And foreplay had only just begun.

“Still doing okay?” Shaw asks, touch tender as he brushes loose strands of hair from your eyes, lips smoothing along the apple of your cheek to feel its pink heat. “We can go as slow as you want, there’s no rush. If it’s too much, we can stop—”

“No! No…I’m okay. More than okay, I’m great. Please…please don’t stop…don’t stop…”

Struggling to string words together, your breath comes in disjointed pants as Shaw begin to thrust up — the look on his face effortlessly sensual when he bites his lip to feel you spasm around him, tight wetness yielding in increments to accommodate his body as it broke new ground.

For you had never taken a man of that size, the litheness of Shaw’s muscular body belying the impressive package he’d been hiding in those jeans. Your jaw ached just to look upon the length of that thick cock, mouth watering as a fresh wave of arousal made you press your thighs tighter together. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. Shaw had drawn you to him then — deft fingers dipping low to trace the outline of your swollen folds through moist panties, lavender head bending to kiss its lacy trim.

He took his time preparing you, licking his fingers before he eased them into your pussy — first one, then two…curling deep until the slippery sounds of arousal told him the time was ripe to introduce the third, leaving you blooming for him even as he whispered, “Think you’re ready for me to make you my girl for real?”

It borders on overwhelming, this sensation of fullness — between your legs, within your heart. And as skin stretched to capacity to accommodate the sweet friction of his slide, you wished there was a way for the euphoria of this connection to last forever:

To the one you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

To this man you loved like no other.

“Shaw.”

His name is faint on your breath when he falls back onto the bed, taking you with him. And as you found yourself straddling his hips once more, the altered angles of your bodies gave him the leverage to make you gasp when he begins to thrust in earnest. The eroticism of his face, lost in lust, drives all thoughts from your mind as you drop a hand to your clit, fingers drawing tight circles before his hungry eyes.

The violence of your climax takes you by surprise, having no time to consider neighbours and thin walls as the lewdest sounds escape your lips at high volume. Intense convulsions wracking your body in waves, you clench in time around your lover. The sensation proves too much to bear, drawing out Shaw’s own release as he pulls out to spill onto the folds of your pussy — swollen and pink and trembling still beneath the coat of his pearlescent seed.

* * *

“I love you.”

Morning light trickles across your walls like the slow crawl of spidery legs. Shaw’s words hang in the air between you, a final, sacred moment shared between lovers before the rest of the world wakes.

You loved the hoarseness in his voice; a testament to the hours of noisy lovemaking you had shared in lieu of sleep.

You loved the weight of his hand, stroking softly at the crown of your head.

You loved the rhythm of his heart, echoing just below your ear to confirm his existence.

“I love you too.”

You look up into those amber eyes, trying to discern whether those four little words were sufficient in conveying that fact that you adored every fibre of the man before you.

The smile that graces his face in return is tender, honest…more brilliant than the day breaking in the East.

Your hands find his body, bare beneath the sheets. And as a curious finger traces along the ridge of the scar that runs in a broad stroke across his sculpted abdomen, your gaze falls on his t-shirt, draped over the back of a chair.

“You should probably throw that Snoopy shirt away, especially after what happened last night.”

Shaw follows your line of sight, chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. “Shitty as its previous owner was, I could never bring myself to hate something that reminds me of you. Aside from saving my ass, this was the first gift you ever gave me. And I never throw away gifts from my girl.”

His girl.

The mystery of life is that filled with unknowns though it is, we continue to live, brave in the face of the uncertainty that comes with every passing day. You had no idea what fate had in store for you or Shaw, had no way of knowing if your relationship existed on borrowed time.

The only thing you were certain of was that your feelings for each other were real, that try as you might, neither of you were very good at forgetting the other. That in this moment, here and now, the only thing that mattered was this love that hit you…

…like a bolt from the blue.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this Shaw saga! 💖

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work. Reblogs, on the other hand, are perfectly fine and much appreciated! 💖👍🏼)

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #fanfiction #my writing #elex

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catcatb0y · 3 years ago

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You know, I'm super wary about adding anything... to anything, lmao. I've got like super bad anxiety when it comes to commenting on people's art or like personal posts or whatever.

Even though like, people will say: 'oh yeah I love illiterate keysmashes' or 'my mutuals are always free to hit me up randomly'

It really just feels like yes, but what if that applies to everyone except for me, specifically?

And if you're like, Kit, no one fucking cares-

You're right!! You're so right!! Like, three people are going to see this post max and only one of them will drop a like!

Every post I make will be buried deep in the throws of Tumblr's ever churning abyss- or you know the knee deep garbage of whatever other site I happen to be using.

Really when you're small and stupid, all social media is about talking to yourself.

Which is great!

I'm still not going to comment on anything tho except for those posts that have so many notes op definitely turned off notifications. Or like the few, few posts where o/p does check their notes religiously and is like?? Wtf are you doing on my post-

Which ths answer is always: it's in my house now. If a post crosses my dash, I make the decision of whether or not I want it in my house (on my blog) and what I want to add to it. OP could be the president and I would not give two shits less. My post now. I don't even SEE op, I don't care about op, when I reblog a post I do so to tell the people who unfortunately follow me what they should unfollow me for.

The only blogs I look out for are art blogs that I'm not familiar with, because I hate art reposters. I would rather walk on hot coals than give those assholes even a single like. If you repost art without crediting the artist I want to tear your jugular out.

But like the posts where I see op or like have actual respect for the poster hahahaha I'd rather die. All art that I reblog has a silent monologue in the comments that I'm too scared to post. I'll pass several mutual's personal posts and debate joking with them, but never actually do it.

But like today, I feel adventurous so I reblogged a lot of art with my reaction in the tags. Idk feelin ambitious. I might just drop off the face of the Earth and never do that again lmao.

Comments are still to high of a hurdle tho, fuck that. Sorry fic authors, (once I get back into reading again), I'm just gonna write everything out in my bookmarks.

#personal #this is so stupid lmao #no one will even notice the tags on the art #that's what this whole post was about #I mean it was a little bit about that blog who got mad at me for adding Mi/ts/uk/i to the list of shitty He/ro/A/ca parents #and talking back and forth with one of my mutuals about Ba/ku/go/u's mistreatement in the series #which like I explained in the comments that yeah I'm not reblogging for op the moment it crossed my dash it was my post #op's intentions don't like... actually matter to me lol- at least not on some random text post #the discussion of the horrid mistreatment of the kids in the He/ro/A/ca series is something so weirdly close to me and if I want to write-#a five page essay about it on some randon post I'll write an essay about it on some randon post #sorry for the notif op but I really don't care #but like I've added a bunch of tags to the art I've reblogged today

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bugmomwrites · 5 years ago

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Animal Crossed Lovers (Tamaki Amajiki)

Alrighty so I haven't put any finished work on here in a hot minute, that’s my bad. ANYWHO my mom got me ACNH as an early birthday gift since my birthday (April 5th) just missed the supposed quarantine cutoff date for our area (7th). I may be be stuck inside while everything’s closed, but hey- at least the island of Escapism hardly rests 😉

(SW-3129-0651-5422)

Tamaki Amajiki x GN! Reader

Tamaki was never one to play video games, but he had to admit there was just something...soothing about Animal Crossing that melted much of his anxiety away. Nejire had initially preordered a copy for his birthday weeks ago, but her friend who worked at the local (s/n) (who he may or may not have been crushing on since their second year after they joined them at lunch one day) was able to pull a couple strings and get it on the fourth of March instead of the twentieth. Of course he had no idea, but he was so stunned when he opened it that it didn’t even occur to him that the game wasn’t even out yet until Mirio had reminded him. He didn’t question it though- his friend group was one wild card after another, so he guessed he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

He was thrilled, and just the fact that no one else had a copy yet made it feel all the more personal. Of course he knew in sixteen days it would be all anybody ever talked about, but for the time being it felt like the game, the little world he had created in the past few days with its gentle music and soft, wholesome theme, was his and his alone. The fact that it was a gift from his friends made it all the more special, and even if he had a hectic day at school he could turn on the console and water pretend flowers on a pretend island, and for those few moments, all was right with the world.

He was pulling weeds to sell to Timmy for bells when his screen pinged in the corner that made his blood run cold.

(Gamertag) is online

Playing: Animal Crossing New Horizons

That’s right, you had friended him on the switch after realizing all his friends had one, and now with a fourth person they could have a full team online. Mirio has suggested everyone exchange codes, and you had taken the liberty of showing him how to punch in the code and adding yourself while he sat there trying not to melt into his seat at how excited you got, or how nice you smelled up close. You had passed it back with a beaming grin, telling him you couldn’t wait to do co-ops. At the time he could only nod, speechless as the rest of his friends made idle chatter until the bell rung, and everyone scurried back to class.

He quickly realized he had left the terminal gate open when he was poking around the various features, learning about what each thing does in game. He tried sprinting to the airport to close the gates, and he made it to the dock before a big green banner flashed across his screen reading “you have a visitor!”

Out of the threshold popped your avatar, and for a moment he was grateful he could hide behind a screen. He wanted to be mad, upset even, that you had wandered onto his digital sanctuary, but couldn’t find it in himself because, then again, it was you.

The Nookphone in the top left corner buzzed to life, and he opened up the chat log with shaky hands. In a cutesy, pastel speech bubble was your message, and he wondered how something that was once so therapeutic to him could do a 180 and suddenly become the source of his anxiety.

G/T: Hello! Sorry to pop in unannounced, I hope you don’t mind^^

Tamaki felt his mouth go dry, reading it in your voice and after steadying his breathing, he painstakingly typed out a response.

Suneater: its ok.

G/T: It’s kinda hard to find others to play with when the game isn’t even released yet >~<

Suneater: Oh?

He should have known it was too good to be true. You were only visiting him because no one else was on yet. He sighed, trying to keep the dread from crawling back in before another note popped up.

G/T: The game doesn’t actually release until the first day of spring, but working at (s/n) has its perks. I saw the trailers and the hype and figured it would be the perfect game for you.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him upon reading that. So he wasn’t the last choice- rather, the game simply wasn’t out to the general public yet. But if that was the case, how did you also get a copy?

Suneater: thats nice of you

G/T: And then a little birdy told me you had a birthday coming up, so since I have a couple connections after I got my copy, I asked my manager if they’d set aside one more.

Suneater: you

Suneater: you were the one who helped get it early?

Boy did he feel stupid now. You worked at (s/n), (as you had literally just mentioned in your previous notes), Nejire got him a game that wasn’t out yet, you guys were all mutual friends- how did he not put two and two together?!

G/T: Yes lol that would be me^ you liking it so far? You picked a good name for the island too.

“Sunshine Island” may have seemed a little cliche to most people, but Tamaki had so many things in his life linked to it that by this point, it was just routine. Mirio was his sun in dark times. His nickname Suneater, even the sunflowers he had received from his parents for his birthday each year was tradition. He knew not everyone would see it the way he did, but to him, it was perfect, and he was definitely chuffed when he thought it up and punched it in for the first time.

To hear you loved it too sent a swell of pride through him, and he wondered if it was possible to love someone as much as he did just then.

Suneater: you really think so?

G/T: Absolutely

And with that, the two of you explored Sunshine Island together, he showed you his tent, the shops, and the little orchard of peaches he had arranged. You were impressed by the amount of detail and care that went into arranging everything, and asked if he’d be willing to help you with your island sometime, to which he obliged.

You guys did some more walking, and he told you to feel free to shake theres and take a couple fruits with you. His native fruit was peaches, and in exchange you dropped a couple of your own fruits from your island on the ground for him to pick up so he could have more variety in his world.

G/T: There’s six different kinds, and each island is assigned one main type of fruit. the more you visit with friends, the more biodiversity you’ll get. Pretty cool right? I have some spare (F/N), and if you take and plant those, they'll grow and multiply!

His avatar hesitantly wandered over to the offering after yours stepped back a little to let him take them. Your generousity was surely appreciated, and even though you couldn't see it, he smiled softly before typing out a new message.

Suneater: Thank you. I’ll go plant those.

The game might have been synced up with real time, even getting darker after a certain hour- yet despite it being outside, neither one of you noticed just how much time had passed between all the bug catching, fishing, exploring and talking. When your screen loaded up a clock that read 2:54 AM, you blinked a few times, as if that would change the reading. But lo and behold, it was going for 3am on a school night, and you knew you both had to get to bed.

G/T: Ah beans its 3am, I gotta get to bed soon. Thanks for letting me hang out on your island, and sorry for keeping you awake >~<

Suneater: don't be sorry, i had a lot of fun. can we play together again sometime?

G/T: Of course! I can't wait to meet up again. Maybe we can visit my island next time? I should have those peaches planted by then, and you can teach me your ways, oh master landscaper.

Tamaki chuckled out loud at that, blushing, as he suddenly had a brilliant idea.

Suneater: That would be nice. Wait here a second.

He scurried off to a patch of flowers he had blooming, and with a shovel, picked up a few in your favorite color before making his way back over and dropping them in front of you.

Suneater: You can start by planting a few of these around your island. It is your favorite color, right?

Now it was your turn to blush as you picked up the (f/c) flowers he dropped in front of you, smiling like a goon at his burst of confidence. How he remembered your favorite color is beyond you, but hey- you weren’t complaining.

G/T: They’re perfect, thank you Tama!

Suneater: You're welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow?

G/N: You know it! Goodnight <3

And on that note you walked down to the airport, his avatar following close behind as if to see you off. It was a simple gesture, but appreciated nonetheless. Both of you powered down your switches for the night before plugging them in, and promptly hopping into your respective beds with racing hearts. It was the perfect end to your digital “date” and you couldn’t wait to log in again.

Thank you for reading! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The inbox is always open for future ideas, so don’t be afraid to drop in.

Also gonna tag @katsukisprincess cause I mean...Animal Crossing and wholesome Tamaki fluff. ‘Nuff said.

#bug mom writes #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #acnh #bnha #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki amajiki #x reader imagine #fluff

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years ago

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Part 15 | The Final Show | 5.9k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Sequins & Zippers Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: as the title suggests, this is the final show, the end of s&z. I want to thank literally anyone who has read a single word of this story. I started Aurora & Harry’s story at the end of hslot18 & was working on it off & on but set out to finish & post it all in 2020. Thank you for not only reading but for bearing with me when I posted late or not at all. I love these 2 with my whole ass heart. & a big sappy shout out to @sadaboutniall for chatting through S&Z with me for well over a year & not getting sick of me (or at least not telling me AKLNADSHADF) & for still to this day sending me links to random things & being like ‘omg this is so aurora’ 🖤

anyways, here we go, the final part to Aurora & Harry’s story, for now.

love you all, mean it.

Don’t forget to reblog :)

__________

Aurora made sure to wake up before Harry. She knew it wouldn’t be too hard considering how late they were up after the show last night, high off the 1st show in LA and celebrating Mitch’s birthday. She wrote him a note saying she’d meet him at The Forum and left it on his bedside table. Tiptoeing through Harry’s unfamiliar LA home, Aurora gets ready quickly. It’s gonna be a long day, she knows it and the early sunrise is just starting to cast through the windows. Her phone dings from her bag on the counter and it’s Jeff letting her know a car is picking her up from Harry’s in 10 minutes.

She’s still not used to all of this, the jet black private cars and the back doors to arenas even after 67 shows in 5 months. It still makes her anxiety spike when she doesn’t know where she is exactly or where she’s going. She’s learned to trust more, trust her own gut, trust people that are on her side, her team, her family. Aurora’s still not used to the fact that this is her life but just as it’s gotten more and more familiar, it’s about to change.

Large cardboard boxes are waiting for her when she gets to The Forum and meets up with Jeff.

“Have you opened them yet?” Aurora asks him, giddily.

“Nope, was waiting for you. It’s all you,” Jeff says while motioning to the boxes.

Aurora rips open the top box and a wide smile finds a home on her face.

Harry Styles

The Final Show

Of The

First Tour

Of The

Debut Album

Los Angeles

California

“Oh my god, they’re perfect,” Aurora exclaims. As she admires them Jeff is directing a group of people to start handing them out. Aurora grabs one for her and another for Harry before she gets to work helping hand out the tshirts to everyone. The crew and all the tour staff are changing into the matching white t-shirts when Aurora’s phone chimes with a text from Harry letting her know he’s left and on the way. Aurora’s smile hasn’t left her face since she got to The Forum this morning and she knows the smile will only get bigger as the day goes on. She also knows that if she stops smiling she might start crying and she’s not ready for that yet.

Aurora and Helene make their way to the tunnel they know Harry will be driving into and parking his car. They’re waiting for him in their matching t-shirts, Helene’s camera ready and giggling about something from the night before when they see the first glimpse of Harry’s bright yellow car come into view up the ramp. His windows are down, music is playing loudly and he’s wearing his pink tinted sunglasses as he pulls in. People are bustling around, some arriving for the first time today and others already running around with lists to complete before the final show. Everyone looks the same and it’s exactly how Aurora wanted it. The celebratory t-shirts remind her of the big productions they put on at school or the end of year dance recitals. She likes the feeling it creates when everyone’s decked out in their shirts and she wants to celebrate Harry and his entire team. The final show. It’s marking the end of an era. His era.

When Harry gets out of his car, tossing his duffle over his shoulder and sliding his glasses into his hair he stops before he gets to closing the driver door. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera. A dimpled smile forms on Harry’s face and no one is really sure if it’s because Aurora’s waiting for him or it’s the tshirts everyone seems to have gotten the memo about. He closes the door eventually and beelines straight for Aurora.

“I have a feeling you have something to do with this,” Harry says as he tugs lightly at Aurora’s t-shirt.

“Might have,” she giggles before kissing him quickly. “Happy final show day!”

“Don’t make me cry already,” he whines, wrapping his arms around Aurora’s shoulders before hiding his face in her hair.

There hasn’t been a single moment of silence all day. The excited chatter, the reminiscing of the crazy moments of the past 5 months, the inevitable tears from just about everyone as they begin their goodbyes. Aurora hasn’t strayed much from Harry all day, only once to sneak out to the entrance of The Forum to see all the displays with Helene and check out the lines of fans. Aurora had to cut her adventure short when she felt her eyes start to fill with tears. She wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

They’re finally alone in Harry’s dressing room and the silence is welcomed. There’s still bustling and muted chatter and excitement coming from the other side of the door.

Aurora adjusts the shoulders of Harry’s velvet jacket once he’s slid his arms through the sleeves. She lets out a heavy sigh when she drops her arms to her sides. Harry gives her a look that she can only guess is in place of a million words that he can’t manage to string together right now. Aurora has a million and one that she would like to say to him but it’s not the time or place and she really doesn’t want to cry right now. In the silence, Harry pulls at Aurora’s shoulder and wraps his arms around her tight.

“Your shirt is gonna get all wrinkly,” Aurora comments after a few beats. She doesn’t make a move to pull away from Harry, instead she carefully buries her head into his shoulder and squeezes him tighter.

As if on cue, a knock on the door pulls them apart. Harry calls back letting whoever had knocked that he’ll be ready in a minute. Harry kisses Aurora quickly before he grabs his boots from the bottom of the wardrobe case and sits down on the couch to slide them on.

“Ope, love, got some lipstick on you,” Aurora notices. Her lips quirk up in a smirk as she grabs for a makeup wipe nearby. Harry’s standing from the couch when she turns back to him. “Lemme,” she offers, a soft hand reaching up to cup his jaw to hold his head in place. As she goes to wipe away the red waxy mark across his mouth, she pauses first. “One last good luck kiss,” she whispers. When her lips meet his, it's like their tiny little world unfurls right before them. As if today hadn’t been reminiscent enough, Aurora is reminded of all the moments they’ve spent here in what feels like the same dressing room that has just been picked up and moved to another city every day. As Harry runs a light touch down Aurora’s arm they’re both reminded of the small burn mark that’s left from the steamer back in Germany. And Aurora can’t help but pull him in closer because that was one of those early memories that she knew he was a good one, that he wasn’t just some rich pop star that had a revolving door of women coming through his hotel rooms. Another knock pulls them away, yet again. And when Aurora opens her eyes she can't help but squint because she has literally sunshine staring back at her. She steps away only a few inches and goes back to what she was meant to be doing. Wiping away the red stain from Harry’s mouth, she avoids his eyes and focuses on the colour disappearing from his skin.

“Should touch up your lippy,” Harry chuckles when Aurora fully pulls away to toss the dirty makeup wipe in the bin. Aurora takes a look in the mirror and laughs along with him.

“Yikes, I’ll fix this and meet you out there okay?”

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?”

“Of course,” Aurora promises, squeezing his hand. The last bit of the pre show playlist starts to near the end and Aurora wants to find her spot in the audience and she has just one last surprise for Harry before he starts his last show. “I should go find my seat,” she almost whispers, not really wanting to leave him just yet, but time is running out. She reluctantly kisses his cheek, careful not to leave any lipstick behind and pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to him. “Thought I owed you a note,” she says before she begins to walk away. “Good luck!” She blows him one last kiss before walking through a curtain, away from Harry and into the audience.

Harry,

No words will ever properly describe how proud I am of you. You will forever be my biggest inspiration; from your music to the way kindness is embedded in everything you do. You have changed so many people's lives and I am lucky enough to say that mine is forever changed because I am loved by you. I love you so much.

You are absolute sunshine.

Have fun on stage, rockstar.

Love ya ta bits, Harry Styles.

All the love. As always,

Rory

Nobody is there to see it, but his eyes sparkle, even in the dark of the backstage. The sparkle could be a reflection from the already flashing stage lights or it could be another tear trying to make its way out of his eye, it’s hard to tell at this point. He takes a shaky breath and thanks all the rock gods before him for his life. He reads the note one more time before folding it back up and sliding into the pocket at the inside of his jacket and running up the stairs as the opening of Only Angel begins.

“Good evening, Los Angeles. Welcome to the final show!” Harry speaks for the first time since appearing on the stage. There are chills running down Aurora’s spine as the entire arena erupts in earth shattering screams in reaction to Harry using his own lyrics as an homage to the tour. Aurora keeps catching the faces of fans in the pit and around her when the lights flicker against their tear splotted faces but bright smiles still permanently shine regardless. She can’t even begin to explain the beating of her heart, the fullness of her chest, the tingle in her fingers. It’s truly remarkable that they can hear Harry’s voice at all over everyone singing along to every song.

As Stockholm Syndrome begins, Aurora smiles even brighter remembering where it all started. The pink suit she had to repair in a quick few minutes and hearing a lone Harry Styles sing a song the world is used to hearing being sung by 5 boys. It’s a moment of shock that jolts Aurora as she stands against the banister and she shakes her head because she’s missing it. Missing Harry give this song his all. Probably the last time he’ll ever perform this song. Cause the next time around he’ll have more of his own music to share and won’t be able to make a disclaimer about only having 10 songs to his own name.

Alongside Stockholm Syndrome, there’s a list of songs he’ll never perform live again but Aurora does her best not dwell on that because she gets to hear him sing for the rest of her life.

Sweet Creature and If I Could Fly leave the majority of the audience swaying slowly, still singing along and Harry barely manages to open his eyes. When he does open his eyes it's only for a moment and he’ll catch a glimpse of someone in front of him and he can’t help but stupidly smile. He’s soaking it all in. He wants to remember this feeling. He wants to remember the sound of an echoey arena when the audience sings along gently, completely in unison, filling in the parts he doesn’t sing anymore. They aren’t yelling or screaming the lyrics, but treating them with care, the same way Harry has delivered these lyrics to them every night. He tries to quiet them down and it takes longer than it has any other night.

“Shh, it’s your turn,” he says with such a calming tone that Aurora stops dead in her tracks. She knows that voice better than anyone and she instantly loses the tingling of nerves in her fingers. She welcomes the calm and closes her eyes for a second. The sound of everyone in the room finishing If I Could Fly for him makes his heart float right up to his throat and it threatens to fall out and explode as the singing continues and he keeps playing his guitar. God, he’ll miss this, he thinks. He finishes the last few lines with the audience and closes his eyes again. He’s really gonna fucking miss this.

“I’d like to invite my wonderful band up on the stage,” Harry interludes while moving his mic to a new spot and adjusting his guitar. A little surprise for the final show. And yet again, Harry shushes the audience as the excitement of something unique to the Final Show arises.

I’ve got a girl crush.

The audience erupts so loudly so quickly it's startling. It's impressive how loud the audience is when they start singing along to a song that hasn’t been on a single set list all tour. The way Harry sings this song in particular reminds Aurora of all the times she gets to hear him sing when he’s on his own, not putting on a show, singing for himself.

I hate to admit it but, I’ve got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.

This is how he sounds when he’s messing around, having fun, pure undeniable joy while singing. It’s different behind closed doors somehow. He doesn’t mind when his voice cracks, or belts too high and he can’t finish the lyrics or even a single word. He laughs at himself in those moments and Aurora isn’t sure if he’s aware of it when he’s singing around like that. She loves him in those moments, soft and carefree.

“This is the final night of the tour, of everything,” Harry says after the lights on the audience have turned up and he’s back on the mainstage. He points to a fan in the audience “What’s wrong with you?” He mimics the girl shaking her head, clearly not wanting to come to terms that this is the final show. “Oh you’re just sad?” he asks to confirm. Harry’s voice pitches up, “how do you think I feel?” and the audience erupts in laughter. It's the theme of the evening, being emotional over the final show, being excited to be there. Harry see’s Kacey in the middle of the pit and she’s holding a sign thanking him. Harry praises her from the stage and thanks her in return for joining the tour.

“We’re gonna sing another song for you now, but before we go any further I will be thanking people along the way. I hope you don’t mind. There are so many people in this audience tonight that quite simply I wouldn’t be on this stage without.” Harry pauses and turns his head in the direction where he knows everyone close to him is at. “All of you, you know who you are. Thank you so much for coming tonight. I love you very much. Thank you for being here with us tonight.” Somehow in a room of thousands of people Harry finds Aurora’s eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he runs on before a quick pause. “And,” he gathers his thoughts again, clearly losing what he was meaning to say or do next, “I’ll see you in a little bit,” he rambles quickly.

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?”

The simple request rings in Aurora’s head and she misses what he says or does next but when she focuses back in the opening notes give her the gist of what he might have said.

It’s the song that made him. The beginning of it all, really. Yelling along to these lyrics is anyone's right of passage into the room filled with love and kindness. Aurora knows this song isn’t one that will be performed for it’s last time tonight. It's his anthem as an artist, as Harry Styles. It's the song anyone and everyone knows regardless if you were ever a One Direction or Harry Styles fan. What Makes You Beautiful echoes off the walls and the floor and the ceiling and even though Harry has fully made it his own, changed the octave, changed the backing track, changed the rhythm of the lyrics, every single person that fills The Forum is singing along like it’s the original track. As the audience sings the version they’ve known for 7 years and Harry performs his solo rendition, it’s hard to fight the utter joy that erupts in Aurora’s chest.

The anthem is completed with Harry dancing around the stage while waving 3 different flags. The image alone ecompases the whole point of this song, the whole point of this tour, the whole entire fucking point of Treat People With Kindness. And right now there’s nothing more Aurora loves than watching Harry dance along to the “na na na’s.” His hair wildly flopping around, the light reflecting off of the gold and silver details, the sight of the ENTIRE pit jumping up and down.

“Okay, let’s get emotional,” Harry says before asking for the lights up again. “Thank you, this is part of the show where I’m gonna say thank you to a couple people, then I’m gonna sing a song and then I’m gonna leave. We’re gonna all pretend like I’ve gone but 90 seconds later I’m gonna come back and do a couple more songs. Alright?” Screams, nothing but screams fill the room.

As Harry begins his thank you speech to his crew Aurora just knows. He’s hitting that point where it’s all really sinking in. He’s taking long pauses between words but masking it as needing to take a breather from being out of breath from singing and dancing. Aurora knows, though. She knows he’s pushing back the tears, swallowing down the bittersweetness of it all.

“Thank you to my friends, my family, my manager, to all who are all in the audience tonight.” And then Harry starts to stutter over his words. “I-I have to thank my Head of Wardrobe that’s been on tour with me since March.” Aurora brings her hands up to her heart because this is the thank you she wasn’t prepared for. “Thank you for making me sparkle just right on stage and for making sure this was always a family show after I ripped several trousers.” And that’s where Harry leaves it. He doesn’t finish the family show bit, but the audience knows enough to finish it for him.

Aurora’s in shock. It was unexpected and she feels like there’s cotton in her ears as the audience continues to scream and she hears waves of “aw” coming from the fans when they put it together. Jeff claps a hand on Aurora’s shoulder and it brings her back to the moment. Aurora mouths a thank you to Harry on stage while he’s still looking in her direction.

Harry shakes his head before completing his thank yous to the fans. The ones who made this all possible.

Sign of the Times hurts. It really truly hurts. The way his vocals are pretty much perfect and there’s almost a pained look on his face as he belts through it. Aurora doesn’t take her eyes off of him the entire time. He feels it too, the heavy emotion of the song. And he knows he’s not crying in a cool way, he’s crying cause this is it for now. This is the last of it. There's no reason to act cool about it. And Aurora can see the sparkle in his eye and it’s not from the rhinestones on his jacket. It’s from the tears that are welling up in his waterline

And it’s when he snaps his mic back into the stand at center stage, lets out a quick breath through pursed lips, his eyes looking up to the ceiling, that Aurora knows he’s really crying. The quick wipe across his eyes and cheek solidifies the thought.

We don’t talk enough. We should open up.

And then there are tears brimming in her eyes. And as he continues to sing Sign of the Times she lets the tears fall for the first time that day.

“I hope to be seeing you all very soon.” The gritty opening of Kiwi starts and it rattles Aurora’s chest. The last and final song of the tour. Harry blows Aurora a kiss before fully going for it. It's the end and he’s got nothing to lose.

There’s a sinking feeling when Harry goes for his water bottle once he’s finished singing the last lyric of Kiwi. It’s the end.

But it seems that it’s not. His band doesn’t stop playing and Harry swallows the last gulp of water he took and launches into Kiwi for a 2nd time.

Aurora’s jaw drops. She had no idea. He hadn’t told her about this. She wishes she could say she’s surprised that this is something he planned but she really isn’t. When she thinks about it, she should’ve known.

It’s pure adrenaline coursing through him. There are no words to describe him on stage right now. Carefree or loose doesn’t even cut it. He’s out of breath but STILL dancing around, singing into the mic and engaging with the audience and his band.

“Holland tunnel for a nose it’s always backed up!” The audience yells when he points the mic towards them unable to finish the line himself.

And then he snaps his mic into the stand and starts to jog down the stairs and through the aisle. Aurora just laughs cause at this point there’s literally no telling what he does next. A cordless mic appears in his hand halfway down the aisle.

I’m having your baby!

He appears on the b stage, a spotlight following him the entire time. As Harry dances along to the music Aurora’s hands go into her hair and her eyes widen. She can’t help but shake her head when he changes the lyrics.

She’s all over me and I'm exhausted, I’m exhausted. Sing it !

And he’s running back down the stairs, through the aisle again and up the main stage stairs. Aurora’s still in her spot unable to even dance around or sing along as she watches him. It’s entrancing to watch this all go down in front of her. He catches a sunflower mid air when he’s back on stage. Literally anything could happen at this point.

Aurora’s sure he’s gonna collapse right there on stage but he doesn’t, yet. He takes a last sip of water and makes his way to center stage for the finale.

He sticks his tongue out which indicates to the fans that he’s not finished yet, he’s not ending this night just yet. He’s not about to do the signature whale. Instead, he pumps up the crowd, mouthing “make some noise,” and then he motions to Alex, his guitar tech and the rest of his sound crew that are at the side of the stage. Aurora catches him yelling “I’m exhausted,” to them but still turns away and walks back to center stage. He makes eye contact with each of his band mates and circles a hand around above his head to indicate One More Time. He raises up his pointer finger to Mitch, “one more time” he mouths at him.

“Should we do it one more time?” Harry yells.

Earth shattering screams are the response and Aurora thinks all the times before when she thought that she’s never heard such a deafening audience she was wrong. Because now, in this moment at The Forum with Harry asking the audience if he should do Kiwi for a 3rd time she knows it’s the loudest thing she’s ever heard in her entire life. The sound will ring in her ears for days.

And so he goes for it again. A third time. Now she’s in shock.

She worked her wait through a cheap pack of cigarettes,

Hard liquor mixed with a little bit of intellect

And all the boys they were saying she was into it

Such a pretty-

He’s well and truly out of breath. The look on his face is helpless. “Sing it,” he manages to breathe out into the mic before almost doubling over. So instead of taking the mic with him and trying to muster through the vocals, he leaves the mic snapped in and walks away from it. He’s mouthing the lyrics as every single person in the audience yells them to him. He’s walking back and forth from stage left to stage right, making sure to give enough of himself to every single person in the room.

The shock has slightly worn off and there’s a hint of concern weighing on Aurora but she still sings along with everyone. He ends up singing some of the chorus but he really can’t get through much of it on his own. He doesn’t finish a single line himself the rest of the song but he doesn’t care, nobody cares. Even though he can't muster up the energy or adrenaline to sing he doesn’t stop dancing. He’s tangling himself up in his mic cord and Aurora hopes he’s got enough luck and adrenaline left in him to not fall.

And now she’s all over me, it’s like I paid for it, It’s like I paid for it, I'm gonna pay for this.

He drops to his knees center stage, head hanging low. It's a quick second of pure exhaustion before he’s bobbing his head around, hair flying and arms pumping.

Finally, as Kiwi comes to an end for the 3rd time that night, he takes a sip of water and gives the final show. He sprays water into the air, the music blares out and the lights flare.

“I’m gonna go get him,” Aurora tells Jeff before leaving their section. She moves through the pit as Harry is hugging his band once the music ends. She understands now, the last thing he said to her before getting on stage. The look on his face when he goes to hug Mitch says it all. Aurora waits backstage near the stage steps, watching Harry, Mitch, Sarah, Clare and Adam take their final bow. She hugs Harry’s bandmates as they come down the stairs one at a time. Harry is taking one more lap of the stage before he is walking off, a stark contrast from how he normally runs off the stage after all of his other shows. When he reaches the stairs he walks down slowly and lets out a big sigh, shoulders dropping and a hopeless look appears on his face as his feet hit the floor. Aurora feels like she can’t move fast enough towards him even though she’s not even 2 feet from the stairs. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, his face instantly finding a home hiding in her neck. A sob racks through his chest and she reaches up to place a hand in his hair. He’s breathing heavily and she’s running her hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his curls. Harry wraps his arms around her waist, his grip getting tighter every second they stand there.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Aurora says softly, her hands making their way to Harry’s cheeks, so she can look him in the eyes. Once she makes out his face in the dark, she can see that his eyes are already swelling up from the tears that are now consistently flowing down his cheeks. “Hey,” she coos at him, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears from the top of his cheeks. Aurora’s heart breaks at the sight in front of her but she knows she needs to be his rock right now. She can be sad about this tour ending later. She can be emotional about how proud she is of Harry, later. Aurora kisses him softly, fitting their lips together perfectly, just as they always do. The kiss is a bit more wet than normal, from the tears still falling down Harry’s face. When they break apart, he offers her a small smile before there’s a laugh erupting from him. He takes his hands from her waist and uses the back of his hands to wipe at his eyes roughly.

“That was the final show,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” she sighs, her hands reaching to grab for his, “you did it, Rockstar.” He drops his head onto Aurora’s shoulder again. He’s utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally. “Come on, let’s go get you some water and I’m pretty sure you’ve got some friends that wanna say congrats.” She drops his hands and wraps one arm around his waist and he throws one over her shoulder as they make their way to the double doors that lead them to the dressing rooms and lounges.

“Thanks for being there when I got off,” he says as he presses a kiss to her hair, “knew I was barely gonna make it to the end.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

It’s a weird feeling, pulling every single suit from the wardrobe cases. It’s a weird feeling to be around while the stage gets taken down. They never stayed long enough after a show night to see it get taken down, Aurora’s only ever seen it being built night after night. It’s stupidly therapeutic and symbolic Aurora thinks to herself as she checks off another item of clothing on her list.

She really doesn’t have to be organizing Harry’s suits right now. She doesn’t need to be taking inventory at this exact moment. This could easily wait till tomorrow afternoon. But Harry’s been lingering around the Forum since his last guest left. He’s completely sober even after the several drinks he tossed back with friends in the backstage lounge in celebration. Everyone’s left besides the crew. Harry can’t pull himself together enough to leave and accept that tour is over. That this era is over.

“I’m gonna go away for awhile. I’m gonna make some more music and I will see you again very soon.”

The 2 sentences echo in his head. The hitch in his throat comes back every time he thinks about it. He’s having a hard time saying goodbye to this. He’s never loved the end of tour. It’s too bittersweet. The performing bit is his favourite part of his job. This time though, it's more bitter than sweet because he doesn't have to go running back home to fit in all the time with his loved ones. The past 2 years have been on his terms. He doesn’t have to hectically plan visits or vacations. He gets to take his time. Go stay with his mum for a month if he wants, travel with Gemma and Michael, visit his god children, freaking write music whenever he wants, whenever the inspiration comes about.

Harry knows the inspiration won’t be hard to find. He takes a glance over at Rory. Her tongue is poking out between her lips in concentration as she examines another one of his suits. He can’t help the blush that rises to his cheeks as he watches her. His Rory. He knows in the back of his mind that he’ll have to say goodbye to her more than he would like in the next couple of months. More goodbyes than they’ve ever shared in the past 5. That’s what makes this more bitter than sweet.

Harry just sits on one of the crates as he chats with his crew. It’s the most genuine time he’s been able to spend with them but he knows these people, his tour family. He asks a few about how their wives are doing and when the due dates are of their babies. He jokes about hoping he didn’t work them too hard and to expect a call from him in the future to pack it all up again and get on with another tour. Harry’s laughter echoes through the emptying arena and every so often it pulls Aurora from her concentration. She catches his eyes sometimes and she can’t help but smile. And in the bright overhead lights of the almost empty arena, the brightest light is the one smiling back at her. Harry’s tear streaked face, unruly curls and dimpled cheeks are the only thing that she can focus on.

Aurora now stands near the door that leads back to the dressing rooms, her wardrobe cases ready to be packed up and dealt with later. She watches as Harry continues to shake every single person’s hand. He thanks everyone individually, even approaches the Forum’s cleaning staff that are weaving in and out of the seats. Every few thank you’s he looks back at her, his Rory. His Rory who has been his rock, his best friend, his stylist, his lover. There are too many words to describe his Rory but also not enough. He doesn’t think he could’ve made it through this tour without her and he’s so fucking thankful.

When he finally joins Aurora in the doorway he presses a sure kiss to her forehead, their hands tangling together. They don’t say anything as they walk back through the now empty halls back to Harry’s car parked on the other side of the arena. Harry’s lost in his head and so is Aurora and neither of them need to say anything to each other at this moment.

Harry can’t grasp how he’s supposed to explain to Aurora that he didn’t expect her to have this amount of an impression on him. Didn’t expect her to change his entire life. How does he explain to her that he doesn’t think he could’ve done all that he’s done since March without her? How does he show her that she means that much to him?

Harry doesn’t know, but Aurora's thoughts line up almost perfectly with his.

And as they get into his car, buckle their seatbelts and make their way home Harry doesn’t turn on the music and Aurora simply reaches for his hand to anchor herself to this moment. It’s way too late at night, or maybe by this point too early in the morning but when Aurora looks at Harry, it all comes flooding back to her.

Sunshine in its purest form is sitting next to her. When Harry catches Aurora’s gaze before driving out of the parking lot he remembers all the things they’ve done, all the things they’ve seen and he can’t help but be excited for what will happen next.

He can't’ wait to see the colours she’ll shine just for him, his own Aurora Borealis.

She doesn’t have to go a day without sunshine.

Who knew that a pink Gucci suit would have started all of this.

🖤🖤🖤

#Sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #one direction writing #one direction fanfic #1d fanfic #Harry styles #harry styles x ofc

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bookofmirth · 3 years ago

Note

In response to your post about the elriel who took a cropped screenshot of a gwynriel opinion and commented on it on their page- I get where you are coming from. I do think, however, this fandom makes it terrifying for one to voice their opinions for fear of being ripped apart. Everyone is so quick to verbally attack someone who does not agree with their opinions, it is such a toxic environment all around. So in a way, I understand why the elriel chose to go into their own space to discuss why they disagreed. I am assuming they cropped out the OP’s name to avoid people then going to the OP with any nasty anon messages or to avoid stirring the pot which is why they also kept to their own tags as well but since I am not them, I can’t say for sure.

One thing I do want to bring up is that, while maybe that wasn’t the best way to go about things, the amount of gwynriels that attacked that user was brutal and complete overkill. A lot of people made comments on the post, sub-posted about the incident, sent messages to the elriel, and it just seems like kicking a dog when it’s down. Not to mention the amount of gwynriels who are guilty of doing the exact same exact thing here on tumblr. (Posting screenshots of elriel posts from tumblr and Twitter to then tear into the OP, calling them dumb or delusional or any other insult where they cannot see or defend themselves.)

I understand that tensions are high all around but everyone is attacking each other as if they’ve done something abhorrent (like using a racial slur or threatening violence, etc).

After all the attacks on both sides that have occurred this past week, can we please all just agree to be kinder to one another? Stick to our own tags and if a conversation isn’t constructive, please just walk away and block if you need to? This hostility is turning into violence and everyone who is contributing in any way is guilty of adding to the toxicity.

I definitely agree with you about some of this!! Probably most of it. Lemme explain. But before I do, let me say thank you! I appreciate you sharing your perspective. I cannot imagine what it's like being an observer of this shitstorm.

Usually, people do block out OP or the user to do exactly what you said - to ensure that people don't harass that person. In a sense, that is thoughtful, so I can see why you would think their intentions weren't all bad.

But - if you look at the thing I just reblogged, there is more context to that screenshot that will probably change your mind about the intent. A quick check around Twitter right now will show you that the screenshot of that post was first shared on Twitter, and then brought back to tumblr because certain people thought that OP was a favorite target of theirs. They were wrong, but we still have this mess.

However, I totally agree that the fandom is a terrifying place to share ideas. I don't have notifications on, I frequently think about turning anon off, I block people left and right because I get anxiety (and I don't use that word lightly, I am on daily meds for anxiety) when I comment on a post where I disagree with OP, thinking about what I might encounter when I get back on tumblr. Believe me - even if I seem comfortable and confident sharing my ideas here, I experience a lot of anxiety about it that is usually outweighed by the good.

I know that I have my circle of friends and mutuals and people I feel comfortable talking to. I also know that I have a tendency to block like it's going out of style. That has definitely given me a specific view of the fandom, and so what you say about elriel posts being put on Twitter, I've never personally seen it. I do believe you when you say it happens. Any statement I make about how the fandom should treat each other? I am not exempting my friends and mutuals from this. Trust me. I have a reputation for trying to talk them off the ledge. I could tag them but I won't :D they know who they are.

I think that if we could stop seeing each other as stans of a certain ship, and start seeing each other as individuals?? That would go so, so far. I am going to try to engage with people I know I will disagree with under the assumption that we can have a good conversation. I hate that we have to pretend like huge portions of the fandom don't exist in order to just... be in the fandom.

The purpose of my post about the issue was to talk about the problem of screenshotting in general. It wasn't to make anyone feel bad, and I never, ever say "elriels need to not do X" or "gwynriels are so bad about doing Y". It goes back to the whole seeing each other as individuals thing.

I don't plan on talking about that specific post past this ask because you are right - it was definitely rude behavior, but it wasn't something that we need to focus on. And I am already tired of it, and I don't want it to continue being a conversation. I've said my piece!

Okay one last thought - I say "I" a lot. Yes. But I cannot speak for everyone in the fandom. I am only talking about my experience and my behaviors. If there are people who jump on posts and attack and otherwise engage in the fandom in ways we don't like, it's on us to block. I do my best to be thoughtful in how I engage. Since I can't force others to do so, I just say bye.

I hope that made you feel a bit better. idk. I don't know what would make any of it better, except for how we conduct ourselves in the future.

#acotar fandom #ask #anon

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chuckbass-love · 4 years ago

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can I request a Steve Rogers x trans!female reader where reader is pre-op. Tony is hosting a Christmas party, Steve and reader have been dating for a while and reader is insecure about wearing a dress to the party, so Steve comforts her, takes her out shopping, and is eventually her date to the x-mas party and keeps on reassuring and supporting her? thanks!

Hi love! Thank you so much for this request. I’m a sucker for cute Steve being all in love and crazy for his girl so i was more than happy to write this!

I’m so nervous to post this! I always get anxious when posting requests as i want the person that requested it to love it so i hope you do!

I just want to take the time out now to say that if anyone who follows me is transphobic then please leave at the nearest exit.

Trans men ARE men and Trans women ARE women. That is all! I hope you enjoy bc fluffy Steve is here!

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Trans!Female reader

Warnings: A whole lotta fluff and i guess some angst too

Word Count: 1,806

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @hasan-minhaj go check them out ❤️

You’re Fucking Perfect

Growing up, life has been pretty tough for you, you never managed to fit in. Life got even harder as you slowly but surely started the process of transitioning from male to female. Not everyone was accepting but you already expected it.

You hated being the odd one out, the girl that everyone automatically refused to call a girl. But no matter how much you hated that, you knew one day, things would change, someone would love you for you and you’d be accepted by not just that person but by everyone around you.

Now was that time.

You’re happy and healthy, pre-op of course but it didn’t matter. Because you have the most amazing boyfriend who accepts every part of you, the good and the dark parts. You have friends too, friends who care for you.

You can genuinely say that you’re happy again and happy with who you are becoming and with how your life is panning out.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body and proceeding to dry off and change into new clothes, ready for another day.

“Hey babe” your boyfriend calls out, you just finish off with your very particular skin care routine. A girl needs to look her best always.

You wonder into the living area, to find him stood there, brows furrowed as he squints at his phone.

“You really need glasses baby, your squinting again”

He waves you off as he chuckles.

“Come here” you strut over, sitting down at the breakfast bar as he places the food onto your dish.

“What is it anyways?” you shove some scrambled eggs into your mouth.

“Tony texted, he’s throwing a Christmas party this weekend, we’ve been invited”

Panic starts to rush over you like a tidal wave.

You’ve yet to meet his Avengers pals and you’re nervous to. You know they know who you are, Steve always talks about you to everyone. He’s always gushing about how lucky he feels to have such an amazing woman in his life.

It always puts a smile on your face whenever he tells you about his day and how he got caught up speaking about you rather than focusing on the mission.

He was more than proud to have you and you felt so loved and always lucky to be loved by him.

But now you have to meet them.

What are you even going to wear? What do you say to them?

All these questions flood your already over worked brain as you pause, not touching your food.

“Baby” Steve snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your daze.

“Yeah?” he chuckles again.

“Is everything okay? you’ve barely said two words to me after all that”

You flash him a confused expression.

“I said did you want to go and decide what to wear, i already have an outfit but i know how you love to look your best, even though no effort is needed for that”

You shove him playfully, hopping off the stool and leading him to the bedroom to decide together.

Hopefully finding a killer outfit will help calm your nerves.

“How about this?” you reference to a black playsuit. He shrugs, shaking his head.

Every outfit you choose is bad.

“Tell you what, why don’t we just go shopping? I can buy a new one for you”

“Steve, baby. I don’t need you to buy it for me”

“I know you don’t, you’re as stubborn as anything but please. Let me treat my woman to a new outfit”

You giggle as he pulls you flush against him. Your heart starts to race.

“Let’s not get carried away now Rogers” you slide his hand off of your ass. Moving past him to walk out the door.

He follows, like a little puppy dog chasing his treat.

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

“Ugh i don’t know, i hate this one too” you sigh, looking in the mirror as Steve sits there in the changing room stall, watching you strip down to try the next one on.

“That’s s the one, that’s it” you look at him, then back to yourself in the mirror. Turning around to check yourself out.

It’s a little black dress, this would go perfect with your red bottom heels. But you’re not sure if you want to attend a party in this.

“Baby, you look incredible in this” he gushes, causing your cheeks to heat up.

You can’t deny his compliment, you do look amazing but the anxiety is hitting you full force.

What will people think? Will they accept you?

You’re still just halfway into the transition and you’re about to consider wearing a dress to a party.

Steve notices your face fall.

“Look, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I love you remember, this dress looks incredible on you and you’ll knock em all dead with this. Me included”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely.

“Now please, let me get this for you and then we can go get some food. I’m starving”

“Okay, are you sure i should be wearing a dress, considering i-”

He doesn’t even let you finish, he already knows what you were about to say anyways.

“No, we’re not having this again. You’re not about to put yourself down and do the whole ‘considering i’m still a guy’ routine. You’re a woman, a beautiful one at that and i can’t wait for you to see yourself the way i do because to me you’re fucking perfect”

Your heart melts, his love for you is overflowing right now. You can see it in his eyes. His dreamy blue eyes.

You sigh, letting him move closer. His lips touch yours in a gentle but all consuming kiss.

“I love you so much Y/N”

“I love you too”

You take the dress off and get back into your original clothes. Steve takes it to the register to pay before you both head out to grab a bite to eat.

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

It’s time, the day of the party is today. You feel sick as you finish your makeup. You slip your shoes on and stand up from the bed to be faced with Steve.

“Well dam” a flirty look fills his face, his eyes are clearly hungry for what’s in front of him.

“You really are quite literally the most beautiful woman ever” you hide your face in your hands but he pulls them away.

“Now, i know you’re nervous baby, so take this. It should help a little”

He hands you a shot of tequila, you gladly accept. You both scrunch your noses up at the taste as he takes the shot glass from you.

You head out the door to the cab waiting for the two of you.

“You’ll be fine baby, i’m with you, i’m gonna be with you all night”

You go to kiss his cheek but he turns his head so you get his lips instead. The kiss gets heated but just as things are close to taking a kinkier turn, the cabbie coughs as you arrive at your destination.

“Here goes nothing” you groan.

“They will love you and you look insane”

His constant comments of reassurance fills you with joy and happiness.

You were happy before you met him, of course you were. But he filled you with more happiness. He always tries his best to make you see how completely amazing you are. Some days you agree with a whole lotta sass and others you shake your head, not wanting to look him in the eye.

But you know every woman has this, even men too. Everyone is in a constant battle for self love.

You link your arm into his, strutting your way through the door to Tony’s place.

You’re instantly greeted by Pepper. Steve told you about her, Tony’s girlfriend and assistant.

“Steve, you made it” she pulls him into a hug before turning to you.

“This must be Y/N it’s so lovely to finally meet you, Steve speaks about you all the time. You look gorgeous” your cheeks heat up again.

You scan over her outfit, she’s a goddess.

“Thank you so much for having me here and thank you, i love your dress it’s beautiful like you” she waves your compliment off.

“Come in, you thirsty?” she asks and you nod.

She hands you a drink, you smell the contents of the cup before taking a sip. Vodka and Coke. Not your favourite but it’s still nice.

As you and Steve laugh away at a joke he made, you see some people approach the two of you.

“Rogers”

“Romanoff”

You smile, staring over her dress and the four guys behind her, all dressed up in smart suits.

“Y/N is it? Hi, I’m Natasha. This is Bruce, Thor, Tony and Clint” you nod, holding your hand out to shake it but she declines, bringing you into a hug instead.

You shake the guy’s hands though and introduce yourself briefly before Natasha pulls you away from them all.

“I just wanted to get you away from all the testosterone! Those guys can be a lot! By the way can i just say, this dress. Beautiful” you shrug and gesture to her dress as you smile and return the compliment.

“So how are things going with Steve? He never shuts up about you”

“Things are going great. He makes me so happy” you smile again and she beams at you.

“I can tell he’s happy too, the dude is an actual walking love heart. He brings you up into any conversation that he can. Always showing us cute pictures of the two of you so i’m honoured that i finally get to meet you”

“Oh god, i hope they are actually nice photos not just ones he considers nice where i look rough. And yeah i heard you tried to set him up with some girls”

She nods her head.

“Oh i tried, but failed and now he has you so i guess my failings were always meant to be. And don’t worry, they were nice photos”

You giggle, looking back at Steve who’s ogling you from head to toe.

“Put that tongue away lover boy, you have her alone tonight, for now she’s ours” Nat shouts, everyone stares at you.

You feel so welcomed by everyone here, they are all making an effort to get to know you and you’re learning new things about Steve. Or should you say hearing embarrassing stories.

Tony makes a joke about his thing for language.

“I remember when i first swore around him, his face dropped as he sighed” they all laugh at you’re addition to the conversation.

This is perfect. You forget all about your previous worries. Everything is going well and you don’t want to leave.

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

TAGS: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @princess-evans-addict @badbo1-evans @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x trans!reader #trans #fanfiction #fic #fluff #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x trans!reader

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