#people do NOT have to be PATHETIC to be a bottom like. cmon now. is this shit ancient rome or smthin THIS IS BACKWARDS THINKIN IN THE

[jrueships]

BTW this is not to anyone, it's just a general i wanna just say Thang, calling people BUT MEN ESPECIALLY 'mother' or like 'my wife' my girlfriend u know u know. im not sayin the spicier examples.

does NOT , listen, N O T A L W A Y S mean

THEY ARE A BOTTOM!!!!!!!!! (The kind of bottom I'm talking about is the simplified, singular watered down version usually straight (eerily) young people love to throw away as an 'insult'. Which just emphasizes what im intending here.)

that perpetuates an already problematic perpetuated mindset THAT CAN NOT JUST BE 'AUTOMATICALLY EXCLUDED' just because IT ISN'T BEING USED IN THE CONTEXT IT ORIGINATED FROM. Serge ibaka is mother. DeMar is mother. But they also be bangin out bratty ass mfs on a daily basis like the shit is clockwork. Both can be done. that is all i wanted to get out there. ty. gootbye

[hellsgreatestfaggot]

H-Hey….. gulps…. Cultist Vox with a worship kink & male reader…. :3

SAY NO MORE this gonna get kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

Cultist!Vox x Male reader hcs & fic

WARNINGS: Dom!Vox ,, Praise AND degredation (ima spoil you today),Vox being kinda mean but ina hot way , Power kink, using wires to tie you up idk if that counts as bdsm , etc bro

how do i write a cultist “Haah! join this group of batman looking demons with daddy issues or face my wrath! (dick)”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

• Starting off on a lighter note , i just KNOW he would be a switch, 100% top leaning and would 100% be a power bottom if he had to . (for this fic hes gonna be a top though😇)

• Would love hearing you whine, any noise at all you make he would adore, followed by praises and him speeding up and grunting into your neck from behind.

“Let me here that voice, c’mon now. Doing so good f’me.”

“Cmon baby i know you can take more.”

• Would REVEL in making you beg. He definitely has a power kink so he would adore how much you’d plead for him to touch you.

“Whats wrong, so desperate your already whining for me like a bitch? pathetic.”

• His hands. He has those claws, imagine him grabbing onto you, digging into your skin until you bleed a bit. once that happens and he takes notice, hed lick it off, again praising your endurance for this.

• Pet names and nicknames would be his shit ngl, hed rock with mean ones and praise ones. things like “Pretty Boy, Baby, Good boy” and for mean ones stuff like “Bitch, slut, cockwhore, etc”

• You know how he has wires? All im gonna say is Bondage. (“No bond stronger than those formed through bondage!!!!” -Angel dust) He would tie you up to make you shut up while you take him, and he would adore it.

You sat up, snapping out of a daze, slowly finding out that the entire time youd been in this meeting you’d been half asleep, beginning to lean back in your chair as Vox and the other people with you were droning off in the backround about political-company bullshit as usual, that you werent even intrested in. How you got roped into this so-called “Job” youll never know. Could have been drunk, could have been curiousity, or maybe it was just Vox himself. But now that youd signed your soul off to Vox and his company you couldnt leave, there was no escape, you simply had to attend those boring meetings he hosted, You had to be there to shine his shoes, fetch him documents, keep track of sales and you despised every vile second you had to be there. Atleast the money was good?

You sat up, glancing quickly at your watch and realizing you still had a long, long time before this bullshit was over. You leaned back in your chair, and glanced over at Vox who you had’nt even realize stopped talking. He was staring at you. “Fuck. how long was he looking at me? There goes my job i guess.“ You held eye contact with him as he walked towards you. He looked pissed. He came up behind your chair, placing a hand on your elbow and leaning into you.

“Stay put when were finished with this. I need to talk to you before we leave.”

For the rest of the night you behaved. You sat in perfect posture, chiming into each topic occasionally , praising Vox for his work, all in an attempt to not get fired. He eyed you all night, keeping a close eye on you. He knew you were sucking up to him. As much as you hated this job , Who wants to get fired? Ego damage first of all, second you need money for everything that is anything. Finally eveyone was dismissed. Everyone exept for you. You sat in your seat, attentive to Vox. You sat in that chair for what felt like hours, as Vox looked you up and down.

“What makes a pathetic worker like you think you have the right to pull that shit in the middle of a meeting.” Radio silence. “Answer me, now.” What were you supposed to say? “Sorry Vox! i just hate these dogshit meetings so much i just fell asleep!” He wouldnt take that. Noone would.“Since you dont wanna talk ill have to make you.” He bent down, eye to eye with you in the chair. His eyes were intoxicating. You didnt even realize what he had been doing. All you knew was that you lusted for him. It was like a craving only he could satisfy. You did the only thing you could think of and got on your knees, hoping to rip out any praises you could get from him.Within seconds he was stripping you down, and admiring the way you looked at him. He looked down at you, narrowing his eyes as he said the words “beg for it.”

You pleaded for him pathetically. Mindlessly. All while he gazed down at you, drinking up any whine or plead you had managed to spit out. “How pathetic of you. If you listen youll get what you want.” He pet your head like some sort of pet made for his amusement as he unzipped his pants, letting them hit the floor. only to be met with one word, “Suck.” As almost as if it was normal you immediately obeyed, taking him as he ruthlessly began to ram into you. Grunts filled the room as tears welled up in your eyes from how rough he was being “Whats wrong? cant—mnh—.,cant take it? Suck it up, whore.”

———————————

This is getting to lengthy so im gonna cut you off here sorry pooks maybe ill make a part two if your super nice n buy vbucks/j!!

[touyasdoll]

Anon hate is so weird bro.

First off, *pedophile

Second, that whole rant was over the age of characters that aren’t even real. Bro cmon, get real here.

And also, they ended the show as adults. This whole “you’re sexualizing characters that are minors” is no longer a valid argument. Not that it ever was considering no one is writing about them AS minors to begin with but now it’s just completely invalid.

And also trying to have a whole age gap argument like someone in your family doesn’t have some fuck nasty age gap is wild. I’m talking like.. actual pedophilia babes.

Bottom line? THEYRE NOT REAL. Don’t you have something better to argue about?

I mean there’s literal wars and people dying out here IRL and the best thing you can do is come online and be triggered about a character that DOES NOT EXIST?

That’s pathetic.

I’m saying 😭 like it’s just such a bad take and I feel like this is a hobby for some people? I just don’t get it.

I can only imagine this is how they get their rocks off. It’s just so weird to throw real accusations out. If you don’t fuck with ageing up characters, that’s fine. I don’t care. Just don’t read it. Don’t engage. It’s not a crime though.

Also Horikoshi has had Toga full on naked how many times and that’s cool?? But writing about a 30 something year old Bakugou is not?? Who, yeah, is canonically in his 20s and yet the argument persists. It’s clearly not about that anymore. It’s just people who are bored and want to spew hate on the internet while trying to feel better about themselves. Nuts.

[cartierbin]

14 with lix 😭

thank you for requesting baby

『 14. “stop being so gentle damn it”

pairing — felix x reader

genre — smut + rough roommate sex with felix

word count — 1.324k 』

smut under the cut !

“why do you care so much felix!! huh? why do you care we’re not even together!!”. he clenched his jaw from across the room, it was almost 2am and you knew it was late but you hated the way felix was acting. you know everyone in the dorm halls probably hated you two by now. “you know why I care. And stop saying that bullshit every single time you get caught up in your mess”.

“I can say what I what I want to say”.

“no, you say bullshit that you think excuses you. you think I don’t know that we aren’t dating? Huh?! Do you think I want to be reminded of that every single time you go back to your stupid ass ex and I confront you about it?!”. you fold over the blankets on your bed, slipping under it. “whatever felix. I’m going to sleep I’m sick and tired of arguing with you about this shit. I go back to my ex because I can. I’m single. And until you make me anything other than that you shouldn’t have your nose in my business”. you turned your back to him, throwing the blanket over your shoulder. felix stared at you in disbelief, making a pft noise before he sat on his own bed, facing the opposite direction. he runs his hands over the expanse of his thighs, hanging his head low. the realization settled low in his gut. he knew you weren’t his and the fact that you kept sticking it on him hurt him.

“so? that’s what it’s going to be? you told me you weren’t ready for a relationship. yet you grant me relationship benefits. how are you going to lead me so far just to tell me that you want someone else? and expect it not to fuck with my mind?”. you listen, more than glad that you were facing the opposite direction so he couldn’t see the guilt scrawled on your face. he took your silence as a reply, meaning that you didn’t care how he felt and that you were done talking about the situation. he grips his own blankets and throw them over his shoulder as well, leaning his forehead on his fingertips before drifting off to sleep. you waited a while, unable to sleep due to how guilty you felt. you knew you hurt him. you were sorry and didn’t know how to say it. rather, you knew just what to do. it was another hour before you sighed deeply, pushing the covers away from yourself prior to getting out of bed. you stood over his, kind of admiring how cute he looked when he slept. so cute that it made you feel even worse for how you treated him. you drew his covers back positioning your body on top of his and attaching your lips to his neck, giving him tongue filled kisses all over his skin.

he was soaking them up for a little while until he was awake enough to feel the softness of your lips. his hands slid down the span of your back, creeping to the back of your thighs and pulling upwards making you straddle him. he groaned too, half because it felt good and half because he wanted to know what you were doing. he opens his eyes but you didn’t give him a chance to think about your vulnerability. you needily rut your hips against his groin, gaining a few small deep voiced groans from his throat. you sucked another hickey into his neck, apologizing countless times in between your wet sloppy efforts. he took a deep breath squeezing your ass into the palm of his hand, wondering if he should give in. your lips felt good and he knew that fucking you would be even better. you could tell that his head was lost in his decisions and instead you mushed his lips into a kiss allowing your tongue to roam his mouth knowing he was fond of tongue kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that just fuck me please”, he takes a hand a wraps it around your throat departing your lips from his own. his eyes looked cold when they bore into yours. fear flooded your chest. “you think you can just talk to me any type of way and then bribe your way out with sex?”. his voice was low and deliberate, throwing you into a nervous spiral.

“felix you know I just- I just say things I don’t mean. we both always say things that we don’t mean. that’s what we always do when we argue”. you stammer helplessly feeling pathetic. his expression remained unmoved. cold and conniving. even when he laughed. it wasn’t his normal laugh, beautifully contagious. but it was a laugh of irony. “I need you to make a decision because I’m sick of this shit”. he spoke narrowing his eyes, you could still hear the lumps of sleepiness in his voice. he cocks his head to the side. “do you want to keep running back to your toxic ass ex? or do you want to get fucked into this headboard of mine?”. your throat immediately ran dry and you wondered where your spit had gone. on one hand, your ex was someone whom you’ve known since you were younger. but on the other, felix meant everything to you and the way his dick kept twitching up against you through his sweats made your pussy throb. “you going to choose or what? because I’m tired and I have a class in the morning”. he spoke again still waiting for your response. “I want to get fucked felix”. he shook his head in doubt. “you’re only saying that because you’re on top of me right now”. “no. no please, I’m not. please. I want to get fucked by you and only you felix”. he stares at you a bit longer just before unleashing his tongue down your throat entrapping you in a slimy kiss and pulling away. he figured he’d make this quick considering you weren’t going to last long anyway. “get on all fours”.

you got into position and waited for felix who nonchalantly discarded his shirt and tugs down his briefs, draping his body over yours so he could clutch the top of the headboard. he settles his dick into you with a curse word leaking from his lips and with a purr of relief coming from yours. you shut your eyes for a bit feeling satisfied with the way his thick length filled you from behind. he pushes your head into the pillows and arched your ass up higher for himself and for better angles. he rolled his hips into you at a measured pace before gradually speeding up, watching your ass make his dick disappear with each thrust. you breathe heavy and hard into the pillows, feeling lost and euphoric all at once. felix bit his lips and pounded into you deeper steadily increasing, cinching his hand into the dip of your waist. the buildup caused the headboard to beat the wall, and the slapping sounds of your skin was so loud you knew the people who roomed next door had to hear it. but you didn’t care. “god I hate you sometimes but the way your pussy clenches around me—fuck”. he groans, fucking you a bit harder. he rocked his hips into you with a power that almost made you headbutt the headboard. you curved your head to soften the blow. “fuck felix. stop talking like that”. he took his other hand off the headboard and instead gripped your waist with two hands, pressing it against the bed and fucks you that way. “stop being so gentle, damn it. If we’re going to fuck like this we’re going to talk the right way”. he licks his lips each time your ass moves in a wavelike motion, starting from the bottom and making the top curve up against your lower back. you cry into the sheets in pleasure, gripping them and drooling against them. “nngh god yes right there— please”. you begged, needing it more than you thought you would. felix molded the palms of his hands into your lower back holding you in place so you couldn’t move.

he flipped pieces of his hair away from his face as the noises in the room only grew louder. he admired the sounds your pussy made each time he entered you, a thick river of gush waiting to coat his dick every time he invited himself in. “how in the fuck do you get this wet all the time? holy shit”. you were trying to reply but your eyes rolled to the back of your head and instead you were babbling nonsense that you hoped he’d understand. your head was being pushed against the headboard which was showing no mercy on the wall, denting it in all types of ways. “because you fuck me so good f-felix”. you murmur feeling your body tremble and your tummy cave in a bit. felix felt you contracting and he smirks. “aw? is your little pussy about to cum already? how long does it take your ex to do this?”. a throaty groan bubbled from your throat. you could only talk in shakey syllables with the way he was fucking you. “h-he doesn’t felix—fuck I’m going to cum fuck”. he leans off of you and smacks your ass with his hand. “cmon. let me see you fuck yourself”. You desperately pushed back against him trying to do more than you could handle but the way he stretched you and hit your weak spots the closer you became. he smacked your ass repeatedly almost as if he was spanking you, making it all worth while and making your cum drip down your thighs in the process. when you were finished you collapsed on the bed, gasping for air and a peace of mind.

“don’t you ever go back to his ass again”.

[koutarousangel]

━ chaos / bokuto kōtarō.

prompt : an angel falls in love with a demon ... quite literally.

genre : angst ... a lot of it

warning(s) : religious undertones, alludes to sex, mention of a blade, slight mention of violence, reader is ... well, a demon.

song recs : falling in reverse ━ eden ; afterthought  ━ joji ; listen before you go ━ billie eilish.

author’s note : i was doing a lucifer rewatch and the bit with maze and amenadiel came up and i was just like 🤔. this was originally meant for kuroo, but i have different plans for him so i was like HMMM who’s the perfect candidate for an angel and ofc .... bo fits the bill cmon now ! title’s inspired by this poem.

EPISODE ONE  ━ the fallen angel.

you had pictured yourself in this position before.

more accurately, you had dreamt of it, your hellblade positioned at the base of his neck, ready to slice the skin open and get him completely off your back, so that you could continue to trapeze through earth, laying waste to the spoils humans had created and the ones they’re also subsequently punished for when they’re in hell.

but you hesitated.

there was a point when the two of you were at each other’s throats, pitted against each other as mortal enemies. fight after fight forced the string of sexual tension to grow taught and at one point it broke apart, and you’d fallen into bed one time after the next.

you hesitated because it was supposed to be a one time thing, a mistake, but you kept looking for him everywhere, and he looked for you and the pillow talk became longer and longer and you learned about each other. you hesitated because there was something in the way that he held you, how he gazed at you, how he gave you a sense of purpose. 

the thought of how you would be ridiculed if you had ever returned to hell disappeared whenever his warm, honey-coloured eyes fell on you, and your heart that wasn’t meant for love beat with a different rhythm, proving so many people wrong.

a demon falling in love with an angel ; how strange.

tears stung the corners of your eyes as you shook your head out of your thoughts, almost losing your grip on the hellblade before you grit your teeth, trying to force yourself to move and get it over with, but the hesitation lasted for a second too long.

fingers encircled both of your wrists and you were flipped over, pinned to the plush bed underneath you as bokuto’s body hovered over yours.

“if you wanted to do it, you shouldn’t have hesitated,” his voice came out in an angry growl, but you could discern the disappointment weaving through the tone of his voice. his hair fell over his eyes, a stark contrast to the spiked upstyle it usually sits in, but even though the trusses of grey hair partially obstructed his golden eyes, betrayal had taken adoration’s place in them. 

a coherent sentence couldn’t make it past your lips, words coming out in a string of babbles, punctuated by a gutteral sob, silent prayers to try and find the right words running laps through your head.

a demon caught in prayer ; how unique.

“i’m sorry,” your voice was a whimper. it was uncharacteristic, seeing as your voice usually drips confidence, accompanied by your snarky words and scheming smirk, traits he’d grown to find endearing, “kōtarō, i’m sorry.”

he grimaced and looked away, holding back his emotions and deciding to stand his ground instead, “no, you’re not,” he pressed down on your wrists more, frustration seeping through his fingertips, “this was your plan from the start.”

“only after i figured out why you were sent,” your confession came out through gritted teeth as you tried to get angry again, hating the helpless feeling that had taken over your body, but then letting your bottom lip tremble again as you let go of the tension in your shoulders, “i don’t want to go back kō, i don’t … please.”

his grip loosened and his eyes glazed over with tears that threatened to stain his flushed cheeks, “i was ready to follow you,” his words came out in a pained whisper, his breath fanning over your face.

wind swirled around the two of you as he extended his wings, items in the vicinity clattering to the ground and making a mess. as you peered up, a small gasp fell past your lips. instead of the pure white you remember seeing the first time, the feathers were greying, some of them had already turned black and some were singed.

your eyebrows knitted together and a frown befell your features as you gently ran your fingers along the blackened feathers, catching his slight wince out of the corner of your eye and you flinched away from his wings.

“i’m not worth it,” all the confidence that is usually present in your voice was snuffed out, replaced with uncertainty. the façade broke even further and the tears streamed freely and steadily down your face as you shook your head, “you don’t deserve hell, you’re good… you can save yourself and go home.”

bokuto let go of your wrists and shushed you as you broke down underneath him, pulling your frame onto his lap and letting you wrap your legs around his waist, cradling your face in his hands and placing his head against your forehead, “you’re worth it all,” he whispers, “screw heaven and hell, wherever you go, i follow.” 

but even after his words managed to calm you down and pressed kisses to every inch of your body, you couldn’t help but feel guilt settle at the pit of your stomach. you gazed at his innocent face as he slept and imagined him amongst the demons of hell and it made you sick.

in the morning he woke up to an empty, cold bed, for you loved him far too much to let him go through hell. and after figuring out that you had left your phone behind, he yelled and broke nearly every single thing in the room, wings extended and pain running through them as more feathers darkened. as he dropped down to his knees and his wings drooped on either side of him, he looked like a broken renaissance painting; the fallen angel.

as you stood in front of the gates of hell, the elder demon towered above you and looked down at you with pure disgust.

“your heart has started to purify.”

that meant you couldn’t get back into hell and you had nowhere to go, “how? i tried to kill an angel.”

the demon tuts and shakes their head in disappointment, looking at you as if you were a toddler and not a high ranking demon, “the angel,” they all but spit, “you fell in love with him and spared his life … it’s pathetic.”

you had nowhere to go … nowhere except earth.

over the span of a couple of hours, you’d gone to hell, gotten banished and sent back to the mortal world, alone. the elder demon was right … it was incredibly pathetic.

sitting at the bar only added to how pathetic the situation actually was; as you swirled your drink over and over, eyes following the amber liquid as it chased itself in circles. a huff exhaled past your lips as you felt a presence beside you, not ready to deal with some sleazebag who wanted to get into your pants. 

but when you looked over, ready to pick a fight, your breath caught in your throat as honey-coloured eyes met yours. 

“heaven doesn’t want me,” he shrugged simply, smile settled on his face, the same blinding smile you’d fallen in love with, the one that had purified your heard.

you let out a small giggle, “and hell’s afraid i’ll take over,” your voice had the same cocky lilt in your voice, smirk crossing your features as you looked up at the fallen angel with pure love in your eyes. the kind of love that neither heaven nor hell could handle.

the red thread taglist : @lovingcupcakeavenue​ @laineywritesstuff​ 

tell me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ! 

[p1nkwitch]

⌘ and ✿ for Lonely Eyes with Elias in pain

Aww you know me so well <3

Little bit of an au where his attempted ritual fails and everything goes wrong, plus Peter lives cause I want him to. Lonelyeyes is the ship that keeps on giving.

So enjoy.

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⌘: being picked up

It failed-

No.

No,nonon. His life work-

Jonah Magnus, aka Elias Bouchard has the sudden feeling of vertigo hit him and his body slumps on his office. While he twitches in place, the sheer pressure of being seen is so much that it leaves him completely breathless.

He can't move, or think, only feel the metaphorical eye stare him down like a physical force.

The last time he felt this was when he attempted his ritual in the panopticon so long ago.

Elias feels ill all of a sudden, very ill. So with shaky legs he gets up and manages to run off, Rosie stands up to ask, but he shakes his head and tells her she is dismissed. Then he goes.

His mind was doubling itself trying to comprehend, but as if in a fog, everything slipped away. Elias could not focus on anything, he could see but not understand, as if that was being stripped away. With that he realized he did not know what to do, where to go, his boy was on fire and he must look terrible because-

Because people were staring, whispering, knowing and watching and judging and-

Run-

Where-

Wherewherewherewhere-

Where does he go, where is he, who is he-

His mind was spinning and a person tries to approach him, when suddenly he feels-

Blanketed somehow, muffled. The people stop watching and he is left alone and his mind can think straight for a few minutes before it becomes impossible. He needs to go home, needs to go back and-

And rest.

To plan, to get better and find a loophole or something, he has to, Elias needs to find something. He hasn't come this far for it to fail now, but his body betrays him and his knees give out on him, making him fall to the floor. His temperature raises, and he feels himself start to weep slightly all of it for nothing? Is this how it goes? How it ends…

With him slumped on the street, with his archivist running amok-

Him alone….

Jonah lets a few tears in his feverish state and starts to pass out, when he hears something distorted and familiar.

The impossibility makes his shriveled heart ache. Peter Lukas died, and even if he was alive he would not come back for him, not after letting him go to face Jon.

He manages to mumble his name and knows no more.

Elias wakes up again, a miracle, maybe the police found him and got him to a hospital before sending him back again-

Yet he sees his room. He is in bed, wrapped up in sheets, his sluggish mind cant comprehend fully what is going on, but he latches on the familiarity, latches on the safety of the place and what it means.

So slowly he closes his eyes again and sleeps once more.

The next time he wakes up to someone lifting him in a bridal carry, he tries to move away now afraid, but he hears grunting and his eyes open slightly. He blurrily sees a bearded, pale face stare him down. He sniffles and feels his eyes wet against his wishes.

“Please don't start again, I can't keep watching you cry Elias” He doesn't understand. In all honesty his mind is nothing but syrup, the only thing it latches on is on this man that he is sure is gone and yet he is here looking after him.

“Please” He is not sure what he is asking for, but Peter sighs and just stares at him. He can see his face look uncomfortable, but Elias-? Jonah? Which one is it? Feels a spark of recognition. He wants him to keep looking at him.

His mind slips away again and he presses his cheek to his chest before passing out.

The next time, he still feels lost, he makes a few noises of discomfort and Peter comes out of the door and starts to check on him. Touches his forehead, mumbles something and gives a quick caress to his cheek. Then he moves to go, but he makes a quite honest pathetic noise that if he were in a better frame of mind, Jonah would be appalled to be making.

Still it serves his purpose well, Peter hesitates and he tries to mumble his name, even if it feels like pulling teeth.

“P-ter?” The man pulls his hair back and sighs before sitting next to him, his body aches still, and he feels hot, but he still turns around to press himself closer to him. Peter slowly starts to play with his damp hair and mumbles words that he can't bring himself to understand. Elias just wants him to stay and watch over him, he feels so bad, its impossible to think of anything else than that.

Eventually it lulls him enough to doze off.

And so it goes like that.

Elias just… wakes up and demands for Peter attention to be kept on him for as long as he can. Slowly he gains enough awareness to feel the fear of him leaving him.

Of Peter dropping him due to this and going to the Tundra. His body is wrecked with shivers and his eyes get blurry with tears. The man is holding him while trying to calm him down, even if Elias can't say why he is like this.

“Shh, why? You were doing so well, why did you start to cry again?? What's wrong, Elias I don't know what to do you little bastard-” He cant stop. He weeps.

Its as if he was letting out something he had lodged inside himself and now he could not make himself stop, he didn't know how to do it. It was tearing at him, but it also felt somewhat relieving?

It was unfair.

Peter just held him closer and hushed him. Elias just wept for this surely would make him leave.

So stupid and clingy and empty headed that he was, nothing like himself whatever that meant. Just ill and pathetic like he had never been before.

“Shhh, no, no listen its not just-” His ears are ringing and he just presses his face closer before blacking out.

The next few times he wakes up only to throw up. Peter has to lift him to take him to the bathroom to clean his mouth, he barely manages to catch the black thing he threw up before the man quickly picks him up.

He is dying isn't he?

He is going to die-

“No, no you aren't i swear” He mumbles it and weep and when he tries to lift his hands to clean his face the man stops him and shakes it.

“Careful” Why? What is wrong-

He looks down and sees black spots on his clothes where the tears should have fell. Is he-

“Its ok, it will pass-” He pulls at his arms and draws him closer.

“Sorry-” Elias just presses himself against Peter and keeps mumbling it. Not even knowing what he is sorry for. Only that he feels it from the bottom of his heart.

He refuses to eat, or tries to, must of the time he merely is so out of it, that Peter just offers food and he opens his mouth, but when he is a little bit more himself he refuses. Why? What does it matter-

“Please just a little bit, cmon once you are ok, you can help im sure you will know what happened-” He has no way to know what he means and honestly? He doesn't care.

Leave he wants to say, like always.

What comes out instead is-

“Stay please-” He shivers under the covers and Peter hums while playing with his hair. He is odd, usually he should have left and yet.

“Ok, i don't- there is nowhere else to go Elias. Whatever happened… it left everyone adrift” He feels a tentative kiss to his forehead.

“So please, please get better” His arms tightened and it's so… unlike him and yet its everything Elias has ever wanted from the man. He buries his face on the crook of his neck and breathes. He doesn't know what is happening, but he wants Peter to stay with him, the only person who knows him and yet comes back.

Who came back despite everything.

“How are you here….” A chuckle.

“Took you long enough… I don't know, I remember sort of dying, yet also… not? Sort of like I dispersed in the lonely, almost… would have just disappeared” He nods even if it feels weird.

“But-?”

“But i felt someone-” And he kisses his head “Being lonely and it was enough to appear”

“... mmSo-” Peter shakes his head.

“No, no you're not and i don't want you to, we both tried to hurt the other, lets call it even ok?”

“Kay, Peter i cant… i don't know if i can be better-” His mind starts to slip away again so he grabs onto the man, he seems to be the only thing keeping him together at this rate. He is so dazed he can't notice him stiffening and taking a deep breath.

“You will, im- im sure of it, you are definitely better than when i found you! Can stay, stay awake for longer, so that's ok? We are talking” And they are, yet..

“Don't think it will last… was too much beholding i can't-” Peter sounds more strained.

“You will be fine, you have to. I don't know what to do Elias, i- forsaken left- everything is too much you have to be fine, i don't think i could- could deal with you g-gone” His eyes are already closing so he looks up. Peter looks sick too, less than him, but still he has bags under his eyes, they are red and puffy as if he cried too. He was pale by nature but now its concerning.

“Sorry…”

“Elias?”

“Mm” He can't keep himself up anymore.

He wishes he could stay, he would love to see how Peter would be now.

When he wakes up this time, its to someone holding his hand and the muffled sounds of crying, he blinks up and feels…. ok.

Not perfect, but not terrible either. His mind is far more awake than it has been in… god knows how long.

When he turns around he sees Peter is holding his hand and pressing his face to it.

He is the one crying.

It makes something that he thinks he buried a long time ago surface.

He feels sympathy for him, feels… that he very much would want him to stop crying and be the odd and charming man he married several times.

Elias does not like to see him sad, what a weird concept.

So he squeezes his hand and Peter jolts as if shocked looking up at him. He smiles tiredly.

“You look like shit captain” It startles him and for a second he stares with his mouth slightly open until he snorts and starts laughing.

Soon it turns into more tears but he kind of ignores it since he feels his own start to come out.

“Hey”

“You miserable excuse of a watcher” He grins.

“I love you too” Peter gets up from the chair he was sitting on, lifts the covers making him curse him and picks him up easily before kissing him. He clumsily reciprocates, but soon starts to kiss him with little pecks making the taller man nuzzle his nose.

“I love you” Elias freezes waiting for the yet, however there is nothing. Peter just lowers him slowly and gets in next to him.

“Why?” He did not mean to say that, yet he sees him smile amusedly and that fits far much more on his face than the sadness.

“Because- if you didn't notice our gods dropped the ball on us and i think… I think it would hurt too much if you were gone. Far more than I could bear with. I thought it would be fine before, but i… was wrong. The past 3 weeks proved it”

Elias parses through all of it. He hates that he knows. That he can feel the hole in his awareness. That he has spent 3 weeks purging 150 years worth of power. Its frightening and he is sure that the terror will settle later on, But now…

Now he wants to stay like this longer, to remain in this little bubble for a little bit longer until he has to face this new reality.

“I felt relieved when I thought you survived before passing out the first time. It felt… good to think you were still there, even if I didn't understand why you would help me” Peter traces shapes on his arm causing goosebumps on his skin.

“Did not know either, figured you would have answers, thought i could be angry later. But you were so out of it… kept crying in your sleep it was terrifying. So pale and sick… did not want that at all. Then you-” He seems to be at a loss of words.

“Peter?”

“You stopped breathing.” Elias blinks and has a moment of pure distilled panic.

“I-”

“That's why I was holding your- you stopped breathing I thought you were…” He swallows.

“Clearly you were wrong huh?”

“Yes… yes i was i guess” He pulls him closer and he rests against him.

“We will figure it out” Peter just nods. “We will Peter, just… just trust me on that” A deep breath, he is asking for too much-

“Just this once” But it's enough it seems.

“I'm still- i don't feel perfect, but i feel better…” They tangle their legs and Peter talks.

About having to look for medicine, making sure he was well, feeding him, calling Simon to asks what to do-

And Elias eats all of it, but especially all the moments where he was semi lucid and Peter seemed to do everything to keep him happy, to make him stop crying. Apparently if he ever wanted for Peter to just do as he said he should have just cried, it seems he can't deal with it at all.

Some things in bed make far more sense now in retrospect. Smiling he listens and when he is done asks for something to eat. Nodding he gets up, but before Elias can attempt to try and go with him, Peter merely picks him up and takes him to the kitchen.

“Hey-! I can do it on my own Peter!! What are you-”

“You will probably face plant, quicker like this, plus… I sort of…” He sees him blush and he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes…?”

“You will mock me!” He starts to smirk slightly.

“Depends on what it is love” That makes him flush brighter and Elias looks amazed at it, Peter hardly ever blushed let alone at any of his terms of endearment.

“I missed having you look at me cooking” He mumbles it so slowly he can barely hear it but it settles snugly somewhere near his heart.

“Oh”

Once seated Peter goes to make food and he starts asking questions until three animals jump to the table and his lap asking for attention.

“My lovelies!” Duchess and Empress purr and rub themselves against him while the captain sort of plays with his hand.

“Yes, had to keep them away from the room, they would cling to you and mewl like crazy. It was… sort of sad to watch” He can imagine it. So he holds his cats and kisses their little heads while cooing.

They eat and Elias wants to take a bath, he asks the man to prepare it and take him there.

“You know i feel like you are now abusing this”

“Not one bit, i'm still ill, keep me well, love, and i will be up in no time” He sees him hide his flustered face slightly and Elias chuckles.

He has no idea what to do now, but he will figure it out like usual, for now he has Peter looking over him and the cats. And.

If he is not wrong, a bunch of ex avatars are very pissed off at his archivist and associates for ruining things, so at least he can get rid of them at the very least.

Recovering the institute after the whole fiasco with the hunters will be a nightmare, along with technically escaping prison, but Peter said he already looked into it a little bit. So it could be worse. For now he will rest and ask for his husbands caretaking for as long as he can get away with it.

And Peter seems to be rather happy now that he can fight him back a little bit and he is no longer on the verge of death.

Elias… Elias thinks he loves him. More than he ever did before.

Wonders about it, however… for now he is ok with not knowing the why’s. Happy with just enjoying the moment for what it is worth.

[marnie-mouse]

Lmao you're so petty about Avs doing better than Hawks this season. The entire point of my messages was to point out how past statistics don't matter. Yes the Avs haven't done well the past few season. Did they suck this season? No. You literally can't argue that the Avs suck presently. The Hawks did. Next season is a new start for everyone. That's how hockey works :)

cont.  i'm sorry but its literally crazy to say that a team who made it to the playoffs suck 😂 what even. i get that you hate avalanche but cmon. that's just petty coming from someone who's team finished in the bottom. and i'm a hawks fan btw and this season sucked for us but avalanche? there season was amazing. Fans like you are the reason why EVERYONE hates Hawks. I'm embarrassed to even like the same team than you.

Hello Anon, whom I can only assume is the same person because you apparently have the inability to come off of anon and speak to me like an adult. If this is three separate people or even two separate people, I’m sorry if you all get lumped in together, but I just don’t give a shit, and if you wanted to be addressed separately, you should have messaged me off Anon, or whatever.  

So let’s talk for a quick second about how all of this... conversation, for lack of a better word, came about. For all of those who are reading this, for whatever reason, and don’t know why this anon keeps messaging me about the Avs: 

So back in October, 12 games into the season, the Hawks, and the Avs played and the Hawks lost 3-6. Now the season before that, if anyone was paying attention, the Avs won 22 games... out of 82 games in the season. 

Hockey fans, what do we base future player contention, player attributes, and team compatibility on? 

If you said statistics then you are statistically correct. 

Statistics are the backbone of our sport. You can argue with me about that if you want to, but if you watch any type of hockey sports show or read any type of hockey sports report you cannot go a full page without someone talking about a CORSI stat or what the statistical chances are for a team to get the top draft pick or something to do with statistics.   

So anyway, the Hawks lost, I was live blogging, so I posted this: 

http://pattycakepeeks.tumblr.com/post/166899875232/oh-thank-gods-its-over

Literally, a post saying, “Thank God it’s over.” With a gif of a stressed-out woman. The tags were: #chicagoblackhawks #wellgetemnexttime  #easiestfuckingteamintheleague #UGGGHHHH 

From those tags came a 12 to 16-hour debate about the Hawks, the Avs, statistics, and defending my right to post what I want, on my blog, in my tags, and about a rival team. Keep in mind I did not tag the Avs at all, this was a Hawks post, on a primarily Hawks blog, about a Hawks’ fan’s opinion. 

The person I was arguing against said statistics don’t matter. 

Fast forward to yesterday.

So the Hawks play their last game, the Avs clinch a WC spot, and I’m spamming my blog with crying emojis about Sharpy and him retiring. I get an Anon message basically saying, “Remember when you said that thing about the Avs not finishing well in this season? Well, I hope you now see that stats don’t matter and that the Avs are good.” Or something like that.

I apologized for saying that the Avs wouldn’t do well, and then proceed to bitch them out because... what are you seriously showing me my receipts from October about a statistical prediction on how well a rival team is going to do this season? And calling me petty? On Anon? 

So that happens, I’m done with it, I tell them to come off anon if they want to have an actual conversation... Spoiler alert, they do not do that. 

Okay, so you guys are caught up. 

So, Anon, let’s talk. 

I’m pretty sure the definition of the word petty has something to do with a person going back to a conversation six months ago about something in someone else’s tags and basically saying, ‘I told you so’ because their team got lucky.  

I don’t care about the Avs, I also don’t like the Avs. You’re supposedly a hockey fan so you must know about rivalries. If you don’t, so the Hawks and the Avs are divisional rivals, the Hawks and the Blues are divisional rivals, the Hawks and the Red Wings used to be divisional rivals, but then the Red Wings switched divisions so they aren’t anymore. You can like any team you want, I don’t care, and I can dislike any team I want, you shouldn’t care, but it seems like you do. 

I’m not saying the Avs suck because they didn’t do well this season, I’m saying they suck because I don’t like them. I will never like them, and I don’t have to. 

I. Am. Shit. Talking. The. Avs. 

I’m not sure if you get that, but that’s what I was doing. I didn’t start this, I’m not particularly in love with shit talking the Avs, but that’s where we’re at, I guess.

Can you pretty please tell me some more about how hockey works? Because I don’t think I get it, and you just seem so well versed.

Such informed, much articulate.     

TL;DR So lets recap real quick: You get pissed about a tag that I put in my post six months ago about a team I don’t like, you argue with me then that Stats don’t matter and the power of belief is what the sport hockey is based on, I disagree. You eventually stop messaging me, lie in wait for six months, the Hawks don’t get the WC spot, the Avs do, and you, totally rational btw, find my blog, Anon message me, ‘I told you so’, and then incorrectly mansplain how hockey works while calling me petty at the same time.

I might be the type of fan that makes other hockey fans hate the Hawks, but you’re the type of fan that makes other hockey fans hate this fandom.

You know what’s beautiful about this website? You can block me, and never have to see anything that I post ever again, you can filter out tags and block people and pretty much just ignore me for the rest of your Tumblr hockey days, but instead, you choose to do this. 

I would block you if I could, but you’re on fucking Anon, you motherfucking coward. I’m pretty sure the Anon function wasn’t created so you and other assholes like you could come onto other people’s blogs and attack their opinion while hiding behind a keyboard, shouting pathetic excuses for arguments because I hurt your feelings when I said I didn’t like your team. 

If all of this didn’t clue you in, I just want to make sure you understand my overall message: 

Fuck you and your fucking shitty ass team, you bitch ass fucking coward.   

[looselucy]

November

I had never been good at goodbyes. The first goodbye I really remember, was when our pet dog Timmy died, and I forced my mum and dad to give him a funeral, and I probably cried for about a week. Another stand out goodbye in the list of many, was my brother moving to uni, and that was very reasonable for me to be a mess of tears and tantrums, because I hadn’t seen him since he left. One of my most recent goodbyes, was when I moved to university. I was only a few hours away from my parents and our new dog, Timmy-Two, but I absolutely had a breakdown when they dropped me off there. To be honest, they were no better, which was predictable behaviour from Phil and Lisa, always emotional, especially when it came to their darling daughter. The whole thing was atrocious when they left, watery eyes and inaudible sentences and desperate hugs and it was so pathetic I nearly vomit even thinking back to it. And then this one. This goodbye, was just as shit as the rest.

“I promise I’ll come visit!” Grace insisted. I sobbed as I hugged her, not wanting to look at that stupid pink suitcase she had packed behind her, wanting to kick it over or pull all her clothes out and throw them everywhere just to keep her with me a bit longer. “Or,” I sobbed uneasily. “You could just stay!” “Sorry, Pippa, but the uni life is just not for me.” I just kept sobbing, but sobbing this time seemed more plausible than when my parents left, because there was no guarantee she would come back. She promised me she would, but I knew that wasn’t enough. It’s strange, being at uni. Friendships develop so quickly it’s hard to even keep track of how close you all get. And with Grace being in the room next door to mine on our floor, from moving in on September 15th, to November 1st, it was safe to say she was my best friend. I was besotted with her, and I really didn’t want her to leave. She hated her course though, and she dropped out before it was too late, before she was too committed. Not even the end of the first term in our first year, and she was leaving. I was really going to miss her. “Alright, alright!” Zayn barked from beside me. “You’ve been hugging her for about ten minutes now, you’re being selfish, Pip! Let me have a go.” Tears kept rolling down my face as I gave her up for a moment, the rest of the gang moving in to give her a goodbye hug. There was me, Grace (before she selfishly decided to leave) Zayn, Mike, Tally, and Ringo. (I had still to learn Ringo’s real name, she was a quiet one, and a Beatles fan, I think.) Everyone was saying their goodbyes, but no one was quite as emotional as I was about her leaving. They all gave her their hugs and farewells. “You best stay in touch!” Tally instructed. “I will! I promise! God, you’re all so dramatic.” Everyone kind of laughed except me. I was not amused. Zayn moved and gave her a kiss on the head before I took over again, hugging her so tightly it was like I knew for a fact I would never see her ever again. Like I said, I’ve never been good at goodbyes. “You’re an emotional wreck.” She giggled once everyone else had rekindled back in the kitchen, giving us our space. “How many times do I need to promise?” “But I’ll miss living with you.” I tried to calm down. “I love you being here.” “I’ll be back before you know it.” “You better be!” “I’m gunna miss my train...” She groaned. “Fine.” I shot, pulling away from her and wiping away my tears. “Go. Leave me here alone to die.” She backed out of the door, grabbing her suitcase and looking at me whilst giggling. She did always say that she liked how I got emotional about little things, like songs and films and TV shows. But I had calmed a little, finally. I stood in the doorway giving her the weakest smile I could summon. “Gunna miss you, Girl.” She smiled. “You too. Get home safe, okay?” I sniffled. She nodded, and I knew she was emotional too, but she wasn’t the crying type like I was, so the goodbye was lacking tears on her part. I think I cried enough for the both of us. We said goodbye a final couple of times, and by the time she was in the elevator going down to the bottom floor I was relatively calm, wiping away my final few tears. I slumped past our bedrooms as I walked down the corridor, three doors on each side, making my way to the kitchen and living room area of our halls, where they all sat giving me sad head tilts, knowing how close we were, how much I would miss her. I stuck my middle finger up to the lot of them, making them laugh awkwardly, as Ringo quietly went back into her room. Defeated, I flopped down on the sofa and huffed out my sorrow as Zayn tucked me under his arm, kissing my forehead once before we nestled comfortably together. “I can’t believe she’s actually gone.” Mike sighed. “Just like... ‘cause she mentioned it on day one and then stuck around... I kinda thought she was all talk.” That’s what we had all been hoping, because Grace was one of those people who could walk in a room and make everyone’s day a little bit brighter; she could cheer up anyone just by smiling or telling a small joke. She was incredible. “You’re just gutted you didn’t get a chance to shag her.” Zayn chuckled. “Mate, I’m gutted with my sex life full stop! Not just when it comes to her! She was more wife material anyway, I’ll hunt her down in a few years.” I tried to laugh but I really wasn’t in the mood, I just kept staring at the tele as Zayn traced comforting circles on the top of my arm with two fingers, staring at the TV too. We had gotten lucky with our flat, we were in one of the better-quality student accommodations, so everything was modern and nice. The only downfall really was the communal shower rooms, which for some odd reason were placed past the living room and kitchen, so everyone got a good sight of you dashing through in a towel and dripping on the floor whilst they tried to watch TV. But our rooms were lovely, the whole thing was pretty lovely, so we knew it would only be a short amount of time before a student on a waiting list would take Graces now empty room. “How long you gunna be sad for, Pippa?” Tally asked me as she balanced her plate full of pasta on her knees, given we had no table. “Dunno. Could be years. Maybe I’ll never get over it.” “Well you’re gunna have to ‘cause we’re definitely going out tonight!” Mike tried. “I can’t.” I shrugged. “I’m in at nine.” “Pussy!” “Fuck off, Mike!” I giggled, throwing the nearest cushion at him. “Reyt!” He chirped, moving back to the hall. “It’s wank o’clock. See you all soon!” Zayn was in stitches as Mike strolled out of the area and into his room, Tally was trying her best not to laugh but I could see she was failing miserably. “I never knew living with lads would be such a cliché!” I groaned through a stifled laugh. “You lived with your brother, didn’t you?” Tally giggled. “Yeah, but he never announced when he was going for a wank, thankfully.” That just made Zayn laugh even more, he was absolutely creasing next to me, having to move his arm from around me and cover his face. I started to think how even without Grace, I would be fine, because that lot meant the world to me. I shook my head and stood myself up, walking over to my food cabinet and grabbing out a packet of crisps, standing and leaning rather than sitting back down with Zayn, who was still chuckling away to himself. “You sure you can’t come out tonight?” Tally sulked, looking over her shoulder to me. “I really shouldn’t.” I huffed. “You haven’t missed a lecture in like... three weeks.” “To be fair, that is really good.” And it was. The first year of uni seemed to be a complete write-off, and my brother had said exactly the same thing. You could pretty much take the piss in your first year, and still pass. He told me that second year was a little bit harder but you could still go out most days of the week and miss a fair few lectures. However, in his last year, he sounded like he was going to have a mental breakdown he was working so hard. So in my head, I still pretty much had two years of fun left. Missing one lecture, for the first time in almost a month, couldn’t be too bad. And I did need cheering up. Zayn stood himself up and moseyed over to me, hooking his arms around my waist and I put mine over his shoulders, both of us swaying in our hug. “C’mon, Pippa. We have to go out, the only way to deal with sadness is drinking.” “Sad, but true.” I agreed. “So,” He grinned, pulling away from me. “We going out?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, but obviously I was smiling anyway, caving into the idea of going out and possibly missing a lecture. “Fine.” I breathed. “Let’s do it.” + + + We passed the shots I had bought down the line, Zayn banging his hand on the bar eagerly. It was me, Mike, Tally and Zayn. We had tried to convince Ringo to tag along with us, but she was having none of it, said she had too much work to do. We always tried with her though, and it’s not that we thought she didn’t like us, she was just so withdrawn. But there was nothing we could do other than try. The line of shots made their way down the group, each of us having three each; one red, one green, one purple. I had always been terrible at shots, so I had no idea why I bought them, especially three at a time. Seemed pretty stupid, but there we were. “Alright, on the count of three, we do red!” Zayn shouted, as though he was some kind of soldier ready for war. “We have five seconds before we move onto purple, and a maximum of ten seconds, before we go onto green. Are you with me?” “Shut up, Zayn.” Tally laughed. “I SAID ARE YOU WITH ME?” He shouted in her ear. If I had already taken my first shot I would have spat it out laughing, but thankfully I laughed without spitting the substance everywhere, having a minute to calm down before Zayn counted to three, and we did as we were instructed. I was doing alright until the third shot, whenn I felt like I was going to throw up all over the bar, but luckily, I didn’t. I counted to eight seconds out of my given ten before I finally did the last shot, feeling their affects so quickly, it almost felt like a waste of time that I wasn’t dancing. It took me a little bit longer than the rest to recover, they were already on their way to the centre of the dancefloor by the time I pushed away from the bar, stumbling a little as I did before regaining my balance and dancing over to them, a cheeky, somewhat tipsy, smile on my face. Another thing I loved about uni is that I had come across a group of people who were exactly the same as I was on a night out. None of us gave a shit, and our terrible team dancing was what made our nights so much fun. I’d say around half an hour of intense boogying passed before Zayn signalled that he wanted a cigarette, and he knew that it was likely I would join him after a drink, so I did. We wandered to the heated outside area, which was one of the good things about our favourite club, Thimble, though after many discussions we still couldn’t figure out why that was the name they had chosen for a club. Zayn handed me a roll-up, and placed one in his mouth, getting out a lighter and sparking mine for me before he sparked his own. Within seconds, out of nowhere, two arms grabbed Zayn from behind, right around his waist as the mystery man lifted him in the air, making a girly scream irrupt from him lips, which brought in a couple of eyes and a couple of laughs. As soon he was dropped, he turned around to find the culprit. “Fucking hell, Louis!” He gasped, slapping his palms against the boys cheeks. “I nearly shat me’self, you idiot!” “Alright, Lad!” The other one said as they started hugging. I think I had heard Zayn speak of this Louis before. He was on his art course with him, but what Zayn had apparently forgotten to tell me was that he was absolutely gorgeous. I stared at him as the two of them interacted, and I was a little entranced. He was all slicked back hair and black clothes, turtle neck, freshly shaved, striking eyes. He was beautiful. After a while Zayn turned back around to me, grinning like he didn’t see Louis every bloody day at his lectures. He was acting like he hadn’t seen him in years. Classic effect of alcohol. I gave Zayn a look, a look that said, if you don’t introduce me to this God of a man now I will kill you. “Oh shit.” He mumbled. “Umm, Pip this is Louis. Louis, this is Pippa.” He moved in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I already knew he was charming too, which was frustrating. I couldn’t cope when boys were attractive but charming too, it was always too much to take in. “Nice to meet you.” He said as he pulled away, looking me up and down. “You live with Zayn, yeah?” “Right across from him.” I nervously replied. “Are you the one who cries a lot?” He smirked. I sucked in air through my teeth, cringing that of all the things Zayn could have said, that was what he had decided to pass on. “Umm...” I let out a breathy laugh. “I get emotional about things.” “Every time I watch E.T. I cry like a baby, don’t worry about it.” “To be fair,” Zayn chirped. “I cry at Finding Nemo.” ”No, fair shout man!” Louis looked deadly serious. “At the beginning-” “When his wife dies!” Zayn gawped. “And Nemo is the only baby left!” “It’s absolutely heart breaking.” “Heart breaking.” Louis repeated. It struck me quite quickly how similar Louis and Zayn were, and I knew why my flatmate had raved about his friendship with the blue-eyed boy. I shook my head at them, taking a drag of the cigarette Zayn had rolled me, my head spinning slightly, half of me ready for bed and the other half ready to carry on my terrible dancing. Behind myself and Zayn we heard someone shout Louis’ name. ”Gotta run.” He smirked again. “Nice to meet you, Pippa.” “You too!” I cooed, blushing as though he had complimented me. ”Zayn.” The two slapped their hands together before clasping their hands tights together. “See you tomorrow, bro.” “Later, man.” Louis bounced off to the lad who had shouted his name, yelling and cheerful and 100% attractive in every way ever possible. Jesus wept, I was actually impressed by him, I just wanted to eat him up on the spot and leave nothing for anyone else. As soon as I knew he was out of earshot, I slapped Zayn hard on the arm, hitting that stupid tiger tattoo, his arms completely on show thanks to the fact he cut the sleeves off his t-shirt. “Ouch!” He laughed. “What was that for?” “Why the fuck does your stupidly attractive mate only know me for the fact I cry?” “I don’t know! I’ve told him other stuff.” “Right. Like what?” “Like... how you throw up on hangovers sometimes.” “Brilliant, Zayn. Thank you.” I couldn’t stop smiling even though I was shaking my head. His apology to me was him wrapping one arm around me and pulling me to him, giving me a kiss on the forehead, still chuckling away to himself. He moved out, extending his little finger, waiting for my finger to link up with his. “Alright.” He laughed. “I pinky-promise, I will say better things about you in the future. I’ll make him think you’re a goddess.” “How exactly?” I giggled. “Umm... I’ll tell him about how Finn said you’re really good at giving head.” “Y’know what, don’t say shit, Zayn. Let’s just let him forget I exist.” That probably made him laugh ever harder, grabbing me by the shoulders as I turned around, both of us throwing our cigarettes on the floor and making our way back inside, ready to find the rest of the troops. Zayn steered me off towards the bar before we joined the team again, where he purchased me two more drinks, that completely tipped me over the edge. + + + I awoke on the floor in my room, still in my dress from the night before, one side of my face dinted from the bumpy carpet beneath my skin. My eyes opened slowly, and I recognized the spot immediately, this not being the first time I had awoke on the floor, literally inches away from my bed. I had no idea why I did that, I swear to god it must have been a decision I made when I was drunk, though in the morning I could never recall why I would ever think it was a good idea. I groaned and cursed to myself as I moved. I first readjusted my arm, and in the process knocked over and entire can that I had open next to me, beer soaking into my already ruined carpet. I hurriedly stood the can back up, though a good 90% of it had already spilled so there was literally no point. My head was pounding, every joint in my body ached like fuck as I sat myself up, rubbing my eyes, not really caring about the fact I must have been rubbing my mascara all over my face. All I knew was that I needed water, or a cup of tea, or something that would help mend my broken body. “Holy. Shit.” I grumbled to myself. I stumbled to my feet, nearly falling forward and whacking my head against the desk that sat ahead of the window, which looked out to what seemed to be an endless line of student accommodation. The only thing that got me through that hangover was the thought that there had to be a student in one of those buildings who was feeling even worse than I was. There just had to be. Luckily, this was one of those hangovers where I didn’t feel like throwing up, I just needed drink and food and possibly a cuddle, even though my usual person to cuddle was Grace, and that option was out of the window. I found my phone on the desk, checking what time it was and seeing it was almost 12pm, only an hour until my lecture finished. “Fuck!” I don’t know how I thought that I was going to manage getting there at 9am after drinking so heavily. Basically, I knew I wasn’t going to go, but I still kicked myself for it, I still got so annoyed with myself for not making it. I pulled my dress down to cover my dignity, all that was left of it, before turning on the spot and heading towards the door, eager to get some fluid in my system that wasn’t alcoholic, scraping my hair to the side slightly and catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror on my door. Surprisingly, my makeup was relatively intact, but there was no denying I was an absolute state. I tugged on the handle to my door and opened it slightly, poking my head around the corner and looking to the left down the corridor. Judging by how quiet it was, everyone was still sleeping, or in a lecture. The kitchen was so quiet it suggested that anyway. I fell through my door and groaned to myself as I scurried down to the kitchen, screeching to myself as I made the short journey, feeling so painfully sorry for myself you would have never thought my pain was self-inflicted. As soon as I step foot in the kitchen, which was still stupidly quiet, my heart caught tight in my throat, stumbling backwards and shouting out my shock. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” The random boy that was stood in our kitchen whipped his head round to catch a glimpse of me, eyes going up and down my body as he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back towards his drink, continually dipping a teabag into the mug of hot water in front of him. “Nice.” He huffed, grinning to himself. “Shit. Sorry. You’re very quiet.” “I am.” He turned to look at me. He was extremely striking. I think it was his sharp jawline, how tanned he seemed to be, which was near impossible given the UK’s climate, so that was noticeable right away. “Did Tally bring you back?” I asked, hesitantly moving towards my food cabinet. It wouldn’t be the first time Tally had brought home a ridiculously attractive boy, in fact, she did it often. She had a way about her, an aura, boys flew to her like flies on shit, and she lapped it up. This guy had to be her best effort though. His hair was short, messy and brown and curly. He was topless, just a pair of running shorts on. It revealed to me his perfectly toned body, which had one very noticeable tattoo. An enormous butterfly on his stomach. I caught glimpse of it and then decided not to stare, but I remember thinking that was odd. He didn’t have any other tattoos, just that one. “Who?” He baffled. That threw me, I couldn’t think of any other plausible reason he would be in our flat. I certainly hadn’t brought him back, I would remember him. And Ringo hadn’t even gone out. I then thought maybe he was Ringo’s secret boyfriend, and was silently congratulating her in my head. “Sorry, I thought you were one of Tally’s conquests.” “I live here.” He replied. My eyes went wide. That was the person who was going to replace Grace. That guy. Jesus wept, I had only just gotten used to bloody Zayn walking about the place, even Mike wasn’t all bad, and then that one? I swore that people had not been so insanely attractive at school, or college. I moved to uni and then suddenly there was just a gaggle of attractive men and I for one, was not good at coping with attractive people. I became a nervous wreck and found it hard to structure sentences. “Y-you live here?” I pointed to the floor. “Just moved in this morning.” “Oh.” I gawped. “You live here?” He leant against the kitchen top. “Umm, yeah. In the last room on the right. First room on the left. Umm…” “The room next to mine?” He smirked. “Yeah.” He probably knew the effect he had on girls, he was stupidly confident, not struggling in the same way I was. I suppose it was partly down to the hangover, I figured maybe I would be better later on, or the day after, or next week… I would learn to deal with it at some point. After a few moments of awkward silence, he breathed in through his teeth, making it even more awkward, and pushed away from the counter. “Better go unpack.” He coughed. “I imagine I’ll see you around.” “Probably.” “What’s your name?” “Pippa.” “Pippa?” “Pippa Payne.” “Pfft, seriously?” He scoffed. “You sound like a character from an Enid Blyton book.” I just lowered my eyebrows and looked at him in a complete state of shock as he walked away, laughing and shaking his head, removing himself from the kitchen and going back to his room. I stood there unable to think of something to say, how snotty he had been and how he just did not care that he made that comment about me. True, it wasn’t the worst thing he could have said, but it just amazed me that he burst that out to me during our first interaction. I hadn’t even had the chance to learn his name so I could make some snotty comment back. I got a pint glass out of my cupboard and filled it to the brim with water, before practically running and banging on Zayn’s door, loud and ignorant. “Bet a tenner that’s Pippa.” I heard him yell from inside. “How am I supposed to win this bet?” I yelled through the wood. “By not being Pippa.” “But I am Pippa.” “Well then you owe me a tenner.” I huffed, rolling my eyes and letting myself in. Zayn, like most people, had managed to get himself in bed even though he was stupidly drunk. His bed was to the right as I walked in, a mirrored version to mine since he was just across from me. I stared down to him with serious eyes after having slammed the door shut. He let out a confused laugh as he looked up to me. “What?” He gawped. “We have a new person.” I whispered. “What?” “A new person. A boy. And he’s just taken the piss out of my name.” He uneasily lifted himself so he was upright in his bed, taking in what I was telling him. I hurriedly moved and put my water on his desk, before sitting at the end of his bed, still looking at him with the most intense look on my face. He ran his hands over his eyes and through his hair. “Grace literally moved out less than twenty-four hours ago.” He groaned. “I know, and they’ve replaced her with a twat. A really attractive twat.” “What did he say?” “Something about a character, something... I dunno, but I didn’t like it!” “Give it a week and you’ll be his best mate.” Zayn huffed. But he was far from right. Because over the next few days, I was going to discover that my new flatmate and I were not going to be friends, not at all.