#somebody is going to say that this is a very funny stance for somebody who's written like a million words of shipping fanfic

[rabbiteclair]

after that Otherside Picnic post earlier, multiple people approached me to be like 'oh no I totally fell in love with people that hard and fast multiple times when I was in my twenties. did you not?' and I'm just sitting here like oh right if my level of desire for romance and sex were typical then humanity would've gone extinct by now, come to think of it

[musicalmoritz]

terukane headcanons? (⁠゜⁠o⁠゜⁠;

I’ve been waiting to answer this one all day, I needed to give it all my brain power

• They met when Akane joined the Student Council in his first year of high school, meaning they haven’t known each other too long

• They were aware of each other before that, of course. Teru knows everybody, especially the Seven Mysteries. And it’s impossible NOT to know who Teru Minamoto is

• They actually met in passing before Akane joined the Student Council but Teru was in a rush so he brushed him off, with little concern for his manners since Akane is a Mystery. This gave Akane a pretty sour impression of Teru to begin with

• Their first proper encounter was rather hostile. As soon as Fuji was out of the Student Council room, Teru drew his sword and tied Akane up. He confronted him about his stance as a Clock Keeper and revealed himself as an exorcist. They agreed to work together so long as they kept an eye on each other, and neither of them broke the other’s trust. Another poor impression

• While Akane “hates” Teru, Teru doesn’t hate Akane. He wants to be his friend but he has no concept of social norms so he goes about it all wrong. There’s also the element of him hating supernaturals AND being a sadist so ofc when he has a supernatural on hand it’s easy for him to relieve stress via bullying and torture…somebody save Akane

• But Akane is really good at reading people, so he doesn’t hold it against Teru as much as he claims to. He recognizes that he is the only person Teru gets to be completely himself around, the good and the bad with no facade. So he complains, but he puts up with it

• We’re making this a mutual au because as we all know, one-sided ships are the only thing I’m too emotionally mature for

• Teru has liked Akane ever since he met him, although he repressed it. A cute boy with brown-blue eyes and auburn hair…then he turns out to be someone Teru can be completely comfortable around…an exception to his cruel lifestyle…someone he can trust…someone who puts up with all his worst flaws…it would be weird if he didn’t fall for him, tho Teru’s classic internalized homophobia won’t let him see it that way

• Akane’s moment was chapter 79. He’s pretty smart when it comes to love so he didn’t panic about it, but it did confuse him. He also felt guilty for it, he thought the only person he could fall for was Aoi. Falling for Teru felt like a betrayal to her, so he put those feelings on the back burner. He had to figure out what was going to happen with him and Aoi before he thought about Teru (let’s just say Aoi wasn’t ready for a relationship or smth, I don’t want to completely write her out I’ll put her in therapy instead)

• Before he got resolution with Aoi tho he had to get payback for all the torment Teru put him through. Duh. So he starts flirting with him when Teru least expects it. It’s funny to watch the way his brain short-circuits when he’s flattered by someone he’s actually interested in. He gets a good few laughs out of it but once Teru realizes what’s going on he adapts and starts flirting back. They’re both good at catching each other off-guard tho, making each other flustered is simply another part of their rivalry

• They both knew the other liked them long before they actually got together. They had multiple conversations about it but they both had their own hesitations. Teru was the last one to give in because once Akane realizes he wants something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it

• Their first kiss was very spontaneous and unconventional, it probably happened in the middle of a supermarket or smth. Fans tend to write it as a quiet, personal moment but nah, I think they both romanticized the hell out of something that was objectively awkward

• When Teru gets comfortable with his sexuality, there is no stopping him from the PDA. He makes a big scene out of greeting Akane every morning at school, and clings to him whenever Student Council meetings get boring. It’s partially to annoy him but he’s also Just That Clingy. Everyone knows they’re dating and while some students have a problem with it, Teru learns not to care

• They go on lots of “childish” dates so Teru can experience all the childhood things he missed out on. Playgrounds, arcades, amusement parks, Build-A-Bear, you name it. Remember when Kou took Mitsuba to a sandbox?? Yeah that’s an ideal date for Terukane. Though Akane doesn’t get as much out of it, he still enjoys himself. As long as he’s with Teru he doesn’t really care what he’s doing

• They plan their future together a lot so Akane can lecture Teru about retiring from exorcism. It’s an ongoing argument between them, but not in like an aggressive way. Teru knows that Akane just wants him to be happy, but he’s unwilling to open himself up to happiness

• Tiara calls them Mama and Papa. Teru is the mama (I am absolutely not trying to call him the girl in their relationship or feminize him, this is just a silly little joke pls don’t cancel me they’re both on the same level of masculinity; Teru just has big Mom Friend vibes to me)

• Most people were surprised when they got together because everyone assumed they hated each other (except Kou, who Teru told before they were official)

• They become a package deal, whenever one of them is alone someone will ask where the other is at

• My brain is too fried to continue but uhhhh yeah, they kiss

Hope you enjoyed these!! Thank you for the ask, I had fun making this <3

[ruinaimagines]

what do you think it would take for Heathcliff to warm up to somebody? because right now I feel like he'd scare a lot of people off with how brash and violent he is, but it'd be interesting if someone managed to befriend him.

I love him. And yes, I am alive! I am still crawling on. somehow.

Heathcliff Warming up to Someone Headcanons:

It is true that his outwardly brash nature is what a lot of people are initially met with, especially if they happen to be of some authoritative stance, but that’s mainly because of his own preconceived judgements. He’s a rather reasonable and good man otherwise.. Just a bit quick to jump to opinions.

If he doesn’t feel as though you are demanding respect from anyone then you have quite a decent chance of getting along. Talk to him as though he’s an actual person and you’ll find he’s pretty cooperative unless what you’re telling him to do is something he deems as outrageous.

Even though I lovingly call him an idiot, he’s quite the opposite. Heathcliff is a very apt man. We’ve seen this during Canto II with how he diverts the attention of the casino guards. He’s just a bit impulsive in some cases in the same sense that Don is. If he sees something he considers to be wrong, insulting, or similar he is quick to action if no one else is. He’s very good with short-term solutions but doesn’t immediately consider the implications for the long term. That’s Faust’s job. He’s clever and witty.

His recklessness also stems from the fact that death isn’t actually a problem for him (poor Dante), so not much is stopping him from speaking his mind. Unless the situation is really dire he has no desire to shut his mouth. Will still mutter under his breath.

He would immediately get along a lot better with you if you share any kind of similar passions in disrupting the system, calling people out, and overall being very blunt on the blatant ignorance and audacity some people have. While not to say the other sinners don’t agree, they just typically don’t really comment on it either. To have someone else that he can rant with and be brutally honest with? Ohhh that is just going to fuel the flames.

Would find you funny as hell if you insult the smug, sleazy workers of the city you happen to run into. Even better if it’s directly in their faces. Will back you up even if you don’t know each other much at this point because it’s entertaining. 

I believe that you have a pretty solid chance of getting along even if you don’t immediately call out someone to their face so long as he overhears you complaining about it later. Not all people have the confidence he does, and sometimes it’s easier for you to let it be in the moment as long as it’s not too treacherous or there’s quips here and there.

The most crucial part in befriending him is first and foremost about establishing a sense of likemindedness. If he doesn’t see you as an agreeable person, then chances are he won’t think well of you either. You don’t have to be as loud about it as he is but even stating something along the lines of ‘That is wrong and it needs to be acknowledged and not smoothed over’ after the fact works for him.

I think that it would be a lot more difficult for him to see eye to eye with someone who so compliantly follows along with orders and seems indifferent to the cruelty and justice around them. There needs to be some kind- any kind of proof that you have humanity and aren’t willing to stay complicit with continuing what is seen as morally wrong by him.

He’s a very passionate guy which can be a little difficult to navigate because he can very easily get lost to more aggressive feuds or grudges, in these situations he’s a bit unreachable in that he is very unlikely to hear others out. When it calms down though his opinion may alter slightly especially the longer he knows a person. Still sticks very close to his own truth nonetheless.

With this it becomes easier to talk to him because there’s no longer that  preconceived notion he holds over you, whatever it may be. You might find him even gravitating more near you or valuing your opinions a little higher than the others. When Faust is droning on he tends to tune her out, but whatever you’re saying he’s more encouraged to listen in on. There isn’t much of a difference in the moment, but you’ll notice that he’s completely forgotten what Faust has advised whereas he brings up a note that you mentioned instead.

Don’t expect the bickering to go anywhere. Friend or not, there will still be snide remarks here and there, though if you’re on good terms with him they’re meant in a more playful snarky way as opposed to a genuine complaint. Best be quick witted yourself.

You’re one of the few who can get away with insulting him without paying the typical price of being smacked over the head unconscious with his bat! Something that has happened an unnecessary amount of times with the other sinners much to the displeasure of Dante. Don’t expect to be completely devoid of being pushed around though. I imagine him to be the type of person to slam his hands around your shoulder with such force that it will completely knock the wind out of you for a joke.

Heathcliff is sort of hard to reach emotionally, even if you two get along very well. It can be kind of difficult to delve deeper into his own problems no matter how good on terms you are with him. He’s approachable in the way that his inferiority complex makes it extremely unlikely for him to ever mention his own shortcomings or communicate his distress in a way other than anger. Heathcliff does not want to have someone pity him, and above all he doesn’t want to be seen as weak.

It’s very hard to navigate, there’s hardly a right answer of how to go about it because it’s something that’s so emotionally fuelled that your best case scenario is just trying to listen and be more casual about it if something ever did get brought up. It’s a sore spot, don’t be surprised or feel bad if he snaps at you because he feels like you’re trying to be his therapist, it’s a spur of the moment thing and he’d feel bad afterwards. He just wants to be seen as a person.

Try to pry very little, what small trace amounts you get from him of his own personal experiences is something you’ll just have to take. Heathcliff might seem to be in particularly pissy and broody moods from time to time, whether from a bad interaction or something deeper, you can ask him what happens but if he says to drop it then it's recommended you do.

I feel like he isn’t ready to unpack everything, he finds it unneeded and a hindrance to get all sappy and focus on how he feels. That said I don’t know if there ever would be a proper time… aside from his canto.

You become his complaining buddy. He will trash talk either the others or some unpleasant person you’ve met while at work. It’s honestly fascinating some of the most obscure and abhorrent insults he can construct, beat only by Ryoshu of course. Her’s is just vulgar.

He is so biased it’s not even subtle. Heathcliff might seem a bit unapproachable at first but you’ll quickly come to realize that if you offer a sort of loyalty then he will return it. Might make fun of you for getting into a tricky situation, but he will do everything he can to pull you out of it and I think that’s what makes him such a good companion.

[legalownerofufoemoji]

Ideas/HCs based off friend post?? <3

OH MAN LMAO OKAY UH?

I wasn't expecting AU asks but that actually is a fucking hilarious concept to me

Edit I am adding a fucking readmore because I am INSANE please click for submas rambles

So the tags say l4d and I'm gonna be so fr I don't know a lot of the lore, but I do know zombies and that there are special types

I honestly think, theres two kinds of scenarios that can definitely play out and it all depends on if Ingo gets amnesia or not (if we go with the no pokemon theory, therefore Uxie does not exist, BUT there are other ways to get amnesia so we vibing) because there are plenty of scenarios that make sense for random persok to have serious amnesia. If Ingo just, Wakes Up somewhere he definitely would be logical about it and start off with "I must have been injured whilst trying to survive" rather than "I'm from a different fuckikf universe help me"

My first thought is, if he does get amnesia from idk hitting his head or just Arceus being a cunt, then I think he is a very practical man and would adjust accordingly. He would be stressed as fuck, yeah sure. He would be VERY unhappy about having to be more aggressive in his stance on how he approaches situations (and not understand why he feels like there should be somebody else at his side handling more aggressive/threatening scenarios) but, much like in Hisui, he can definitely go from being funny train man so scarily ripped old man who can and Will deal with shit as needed.

I think guns would absolutely be a learning curve, though. He is used to the loudness because of trains, and I personally headcannon Ingo as hard of hearing and that's why he yells so much (which he would also have to learn to control to not alert the zombies in his immediate area) but I still think he is autistic enough to probably not appreciate how loud guns are. I think he would Deal With It but be moderately grumpy about it, I also think he sould probably be a great shot because of how calculating he can be, rather than if Emmet was in the situation where he would just shoot first and think second.

If we were in a situation where Ingo did have his memory though, I genuinely think that woukd be worse in a way?

The entire time he would be trying so hard to get back to Emmet, it would be literally his only goal, right next to not dying. He would probably speak about Emmet a lot, and also regularly use him as his motivation. God forbid he got injured, his only words would be "I can't die here, I need to get back to him, he must be so worried". He would absolutely also likely put his own health above others slightly more than if he had amnesia, because when he cannot clearly remember Emmet he falls back into his protective older brother stance of making sure everyone else is okay first. ESPECIALLY if they are kids, like in Arceus with the player character.

I also think if he ever got returned to Emmet, he would be much more of a changed man than when/if he returns from normal Hisui. Like deeply traumatized type beat. Amnesia or not, returning to a safe place after being in a horrible location that you literally have to kill to survive would do numbers on his mental health. I think he likely would end up very jumpy, with some form of PTSD, maybe even from the guns and would have issues with loud sudden banging noises. I think he would likely require Emmet to straight up be like a service animal (servive sibling? lmao) to keep him company in public so he wouldn't start tweaking. Crowds would probably stress him out, and he'd also probably be much more touch repulsed than before hand, where I imagine Ingo to be neutral to touch while Emmet is deeply touch adverse (minus Ingos touch, obviously)

Wow I fucking rambled . More asks if you have more questions please because I am unwell (I also deeply enjoy this AU idea ngl I think we should traumatize Ingo a little bit more. For the sillies. It's enrichment to him)

[angelthemanspanker]

10 and 24 for the violence ask game!! i want the drama!!!!!

also your askbox name is so funny like are we supposed to submit guys xander might've fucked or what cause if so can we go cross-ip or is it just buffyverse people

asfgjkl my thought process was basically if anyone is coming into my ask box to talk about literally any guy my stance is that xander probably fucked him at some point. the cross-ip thing has potential tho who did you have in mind bc I personally think Xander could have the stupidest babies with Scott Pilgrim

10. worst part of fanon

There is this. version. of Buffy Summers that I see in fics. Mainly tbf ones not about her, usually mlm stuff bc that's what I'd be reading but I feel like pops up a lot in general where she's like. This judgmental bitch who looks down on everyone and could do with being brought down a peg or two. With a big vibe being that the Scoobies are all a bit sick of her attitude but no one's willing to call her out until the writer has somebody turn to her like Buffy shame on you, how could you fail to consider that Spike is sorry now and he's so hurt by your rejection of his five minute redemption, Buffy why do you always have to be so stubborn, Buffy why do you always see things in black and white. And just. Who IS this girl. Its like people base Buffy’s entire personality on the I Am The Law speech out of context, that she is undeniably fighting for good but just wants to kill everyone who steps out of line and has no capacity for forgiveness, her friends can't and shouldn't go to her with their problems bc she'll immediately judge them, and she always needs a rational word from Giles or Willow or somebody to reel her in and see someone else's perspective. It makes me unwell. Negatively.

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

literally any attempt to hold a character accountable for capital E Evil they commit, to explain why a ship is bad or why fans of that character are bad or whatever. Not saying people can't swear off a character who did something they can't stomach but more the idea that stuff like Angel eating Holtz's family or Anya's history of horrific punishments against guys she admits did Not all deserve it or yeah, even that a not-insignificant percentage of the cast have committed sexual assault should mean the characters should be written off. Obviously this comes up most in Spike vs Angel wars as a way to say which one is the worst when their body counts really truly do not matter on the character front. If Angel has killed like a thousand more people than Spike does that really mean fucking anything if Spike has still killed thousands of people. This is a 'verse where The Forces of Evil are very much like. A thing. Demons who kill people for no reason that we need to fight once a week exist. But hey what if one of them like Angel or Anya or Spike suddenly had to stop killing and get a job and try to maintain a friend group. That's what this shit is all ABOUT. Its FUN. And it vitally requires a cast full of people who have DONE HORRIBLE THINGS. We would have no story if they hadn't

Thanks for the ask 🤟

[doublegoblin]

Feeling like I'm back in 2012 (derogatory)

So I ran into somebody with some brainworms and like, I'm still trying to wrap my head around their thought process. I'll be putting this stuff under a cut so for those wanting just a basic overviews that has (to the best of my ability) been sanitized (maybe not the best word but it's what i got) for a general viewing: Youtube commenter makes me scratch my head by digging their heels in about want to still use a slur(they want not I). I soon realize this is not a discussion but an argument that they want to "win" at which point I disengage and have not replied since.

More detailed stuff bellow here, I'll do my best to tag what I can. Also this is still going to be a highly condensed retelling but I will try and maintain the important stuff.

So long story not as long: I watch this channel whose runners do tend to be a little more right leaning than me (which I think it's important to healthily engage with those who have a different outlook than you but that is neither here nor there) and this particular episode was their weekly podcast. Despite the best advice I do still browse youtube comments because sometimes there are funny interactions or insightful points that are made.

I start to see a common thread popping up this time however. It was then the host of the show says "Oh something I didn't know was that trap was a slur." and my heart kinda drops because the comments are making a lot more sense. Thankfully a good portion of said comments were in favor of "uh yeah it is" and the hosts accepted it was and moved on.

I found a couple comments (taking a stance you can imagine) and thought to myself, okay maybe I can have a discussion with this person, this could be a normie having normie takes.

The first comment I wanted to respond to had this big long paragraph about how it comes from anime culture and their "reasoning" on why it wasn't a slur was because of some subreddit drama. So in good faith I say my own piece about how words can start off benign(this is not one of those words I know) and a group can speak up and say that in fact there is hurt behind those words and so on. I knew I was in for a rough time when they respond with, to paraphrase "Alright well how many otherkin will it take before doggo is seen as a slur" and they keep going on and on about how this is just a case of western people pushing their ideas onto Japanese and Anime culture (yes they capitalized both) and some other brainworm arguments.

So once again I respond to each of their points (mind you they hadn't addressed mine unless they could put an "objective" lense to it) and I do make a point of, to paraphrase, "Also being trans isn't a western thing?? You know there are and always have been trans people in Japan right?" They had also been bringing up how it was first used as a term of affection by anime culture and yadda yadda, so I shot back with how it originated on 4chan and it was always a derogatory term. To support my claim I brought up Bridget (who my brain always wants to just call Brisket so thanks y'all lol) and how by the creators very admission she is a transwoman. Closing it all with "Also is it really that big of a deal to just not use 1 word?"

I knew I was no longer in a discussion but an argument that they wanted to "win" when I saw the first line of their rebuttal was "No dude, I'm asking how many people it takes before we consider something a slur" (paraphrased). They then clapped back with "Also that is a bad example because Bridget is (some words I can remember and won't be looking back) and the creator was most likely misinterpreted. I wasn't going to waste my energy fighting a brick wall so that's where this was left.

Then there is this other comment who hits a lot of the same notes but then closes his statement with "Also by all this logic should we be "policing" the use of a certain n-word by African Americans?" Like my dude that is a false equivalency. I responded to them of course in a good faith attempt and haven't heard back so maybe I got something through to them?

What made me want to make this post was about two days after all of this I get a notification that someone had commented on my comments (same user both times). Who said these gems, and I will be quoting in full:

"And words are only offensive if people consciously or subconsciously let the words offend them."

and

"Taking offense is a choice, even if not a conscious one."

Like what the fuck does this even mean!? This is nothing! A nothing burger! Like I think I get what he's saying (as in understanding the intent not agreeing) but he's being a chicken shit about it.

I don't know how to end this long post. I guess just it was wild to run into the brainworms in my real life and not just through videos of people talking about them.

[otome-mondays]

What are your in depth feelings about Okazaki's route?

Hi Anon, thanks for asking! Since you asked for in depth feelings, this post contains spoilers for all of Okazaki’s route in Collar x Malice and Collar x Malice Unlimited! There are also a ton of CG spoilers here too! I’ll keep this post under a read more because of said spoilers :)

Content warnings (for game and post): guns, police, terrorism, suicide, ptsd, depression, death. Please be mindful of your triggers and skip this post if you feel the need, your mental health is worth more than a silly analysis post :)

I am going to start this off with the huge disclaimer that I played Okazaki’s route in my senior year of high school and his route was the first proper Otomate route I played, so I probably have some huge nostalgia blinders on! Okazaki is also my favorite from CxM, so that, again, will make this post very biased.

I bought Collar x Malice not realizing it was an otome game, but after looking it up I was pretty excited! One of my friends can vouch that Okazaki was one of two characters I was most hyped for, and originally I only wanted to play his route first. This was also the first time I realized otome games can have route orders and some routes would be locked. Otome is a very niche genre, and back then it was even more niche with only like 10-15 Otomate titles officially localized and I generally only had access to the NTT Solmare, Voltage, and other mobile-focused company games. After trying to search for people saying I could confidently play Okazaki’s route first, I just went for it and I’m glad I did! Okazaki’s route is very introductory to the game, similarly to Mineo’s. Speaking of introductions, let’s start specifically with the common route.

So Okazaki’s introduction as this more aloof, kinda silly guy made me even more invested in picking his route first. I usually play otome titles with guides, and this guide telling me I couldn’t pick the character but had to choose the correct options made me so relieved I looked up a guide first. Okazaki’s introduction of climbing through a window was so funny to me, I was instantly attached. I was kind of indifferent and even skeptical towards every other love interest at this point too. Okazaki, oddly enough, seemed the most normal and carefree of the options, which further solidified my stance on him being my favorite before the route even started. I liked that even though he doesn’t really know what’s going on and is obviously keeping tabs on Yanagi and Friends, he’s willing to be a friend to Ichika and help her look into these X-Day cases.

Before Okazaki discovers she’s stuck with the collar because of Adonis, he’s really kind and helpful. He’s looking out for her safety, helping her conduct investigations, and being a friend to her. But once it’s revealed that she has connections to Adonis, we start to see another side of Okazaki. Okazaki is somebody who is very dedicated to his job as as this route goes on we see and learn more about why he is the way he is. Okazaki’s route covers PTSD, depression, and suicidal ideation very well in my opinion. It’s very obvious that watching his first SP partner die by saving Okazaki from dying has effected him deeply, which is exactly what would happen in real life. Seeing Okazaki slowly change from wanting to die for the sake of somebody he deems a good person because he thinks so low of himself to being ok with the mistakes he’s made and learning to cope with his trauma and move on was a great experience for me. I was also in the depths of a depression episode around the time I played his route, so it was nice to be able to relate to a character who was going through similar problems. I think his character arc was really something amazing.

So his tragic ending was something that really hit me. I played all the bad endings before the good ending, and I was actually in tears over this ending. I understand why he was ready to end it all. It was really nice to see that he did grow and change enough to listen to the part of him that wanted to keep living for Ichika since that’s what she wanted, even if he was killed right after she was.

As for his good ending, I liked how cute it was and that they do get a happy ending together. I don’t really have much thoughts beyond that other than it was a suiting good ending lol.

After I finished playing his route, I realized Okazaki was a fairly polarizing character which I didn’t really expect but I can kinda see why. He’s got some toxic behaviors, but so do all of these characters. I can see why some people don’t like his flaws though because they can be considered more “clingy” than some others. I think this is ok for me though because it transforms from putting her on this perfect angel pedestal to more of oh people care for me perspective. He still definitely has more to work on through some therapy though, I’m not going to deny that.

Now for the fandisc…man I was disappointed with this. It’s a nice story, don’t get me wrong, but it basically has all his growth undone and we go through it all over again but shorter and now he’s more jealous than before (to me at least). This is the only fandisc I’ve played through as of writing, and I know not all after stories aren’t as disappointing as his but man I’m going to be sad if more of my favs get this treatment.

I think Okazaki still ends up being a very well written character overall, in both the CxM universe and otome games in general, but the fandisc definitely ruins some of his writing for me. His route is also always going to be one I treasure, considering it fully pushed me into enjoying more of these games and wanting to play more.

[mylittleredgirl]

the rest of it!! ("hawkeye" to "the interview")

sooooooo i didn't love "hawkeye"

i'm sorry!!!

i really didn't think that would be an unpopular stance!!!! but i saw a post yesterday where a bunch of people said it was their very favorite, so i dutifully went back and watched it a second time to appreciate it more

and yeah! if you have the opportunity to have alan alda do a stand-up monologue about the beauty and pain of the human experience for half an hour why wouldn't you??

but the first time i saw it, i didn't realize it was a gimmick episode and thought were setting up a different premise (a power reversal -- hawkeye is now the one injured and helpless and can't communicate with people trying to take care of him, and we're about to learn about ✨the universal language of compassion✨)

so i felt increasingly agitated watching these poor people just... silently ignoring this manic dude bleeding in their house

anyway! back to camp

my favorite of the Interchangeable Hot Nurses Able is back!! my kingdom for a blonde with a voice like that whew 🔥

it's the first date hawkeye gets all season and she basically has to talk him into it and then he can't perform...

i loved the compassionate way they handled that subplot

and radar!! he gets to be so sweet to a couple of patients this season, and every time it's setting me up for a heart squeeze 😭 his new bestie who dies!!! the four leaf clover for the kid who's scared to go back to the front!!

and we learn radar is always so nice because "i used to get hit if i wasn't"... 🥺 thank god he has a new dad now who encourages his silly turtle impressions

okay the mutiny episode is BONKERS

you want hawkeye sentenced to death?? bro???? TO DEATH bro?? frank my guy i don't see how you're coming back from this one

like if they didn't keep underlining THE DEATH PENALTY there's a Justified Asshole case to be made about how often hawkeye has drugged frank to knock him out of commission but like there's nowhere to go here

anyway, even under these dire conditions, hawkeye took the time to put on the official court record that frank used to bang his receptionist on the regular at a sketchy motel

frank's delusional POV is sooooo enlightening. he's an unreliable narrator in his own life at all times. he really has no idea what's going on ever and everything he does makes so much more sense now.

it KILLS me that we didn't see margaret from his point of view, KILLS me. it would have been so bad.

she is so conspicuously absent in this episode (and this disc in general) that i started awkwardly scrutinizing her whenever she shows up to try and guess if they were writing around a pregnancy

but no! instead i think they're just absenting her from episodes where frank is being so unhinged that margaret would look insane for standing by her man

she comes back again for a scene in "smilin' jack" and b.j. tries to make a crack about seeing her in her underwear, but he's just too babey still to pull off a genuine sexual harassment

also at some point he tells hawkeye that his comebacks are "not funny but fast :)" somebody give that kid an animal cracker and teach him to how wear a surgical beanie

"the more i see you"... damnnn they nailed this one. i didn't recognize blythe danner until i saw her name but the whole time i was like WHO is this heavyweight they brought in to square up with alan alda?? this is NOT a random tv guest actress

they wrote a really perfect character, too. she has to be funny of course, and so smart that hawkeye can respect her as an equal, so that he can really love her -- and then because she's as smart as he is, she's smart enough to leave him twice

and it's really a "remember this is the 1950s" moment because when she says i had to survive like!! she means that! get with it man! she can't have a checking account without a husband!!

DELUGE IS SO SO MUCH

chinese have entered the war again, resetting the time loop

baby margaret with a crew cut?????????

i realize the story is that they didn't let her have one, but she can have one in my head and it's so cute i may never recover

and look. i'm not asking her to shoot anyone. but if we go through eleven seasons of this show and i don't get to see margaret competently handling a gun what are we even doing here

and colonel potter thanking her at the end!!! we've gone from "she's a creepette" to custody of child meme mutual respect in one season!

something i really love about potter is how he takes in information, processes it, and is willing to change his mind without ever taking his hand off the rudder (or the reins i guess?). star trek captain level leadership.

the first time frank has ever had useful instincts in the o.r. (jumping in to help b.j. when the light bulb blows over the patient) immediately upstaged by massive explosion. NO growth allowed!!

"the interview" is fantastic. brutal. legendary.

hawkeye lost his morale six months ago 🥺😭 i'm not ok i'm not ok

"i've been here somewhere between some time and eternity" oh so hawkeye is the one who's aware of the time loop

i don't think we get to appreciate how good harry morgan is as an actor until this

i'm also fascinated by b.j. saying he would have thought nursing was man's work until a few years ago, when we know margaret's mother was a nurse in the army. is this an anachronism thing or a b.j. thing?

father mulcahey DESTROYED in this one

what more can i even say???? second year in a row of twenty-some episodes of comedy and then slamming you in the face last minute to make america stare into the abyss all summer

see you next season season for more comedy hijinks!! i guess!! 🥴

m*a*s*h update! rest of season four baby!

("der tag" to "the interview")

actually just "der tag" whoops because this took too long and i gotta get food BUT i'll be back in a few hours with the rest of it!!

"der tag"! i loved it! the swamp boys all hanging out (under coercion)

frank being so willing and happy to join the party as soon as they convince him they "really want" to hang with him is pathetic but also fascinating

(if you're me and have been shaking frank around in a jar in your head all week)

even if you're not though, you gotta admit it's a little crushing when they tell him to fuck off at the end and he doesn't know why. he doesn't know! he thought they were finally buddies!!!

& anyway his quick flip to the drunk and disorderly side made me wonder how things might have gone in an AU where frank/margaret never happened

of course frank still arrives in korea as a terrible doctor and a smug patriotism talking-point machine but as we know, he's also a spineless weasel who's desperate for anyone to talk to him

and what happens in canon is that margaret gets so horny for him that she takes on the 🇺🇸 solemn patriotic duty 🇺🇸 of uncovering the Great American Hero that's definitely hiding in there probably

he just needs to be encouraged!! by the love of a good american woman (that he then won't be able to live without)!!

so she constantly inflates and defends his misplaced self-righteousness as she tries to sculpt him like a bonsai tree into the version of general frank burns that exists in her head or at least into a functional person

but let's say she hadn't given him the time of day to begin with, because then frank would have no choice but hang out with hawkeye/trapper/b.j. even though they torture him, right -- and they're so bored they would have let him sometimes -- and because he has no moral center he might have been influenced by them instead

and he would still suck! but possibly in a new way??

anyway. thought exercise over. last point for this episode is that it's really good frank passed out when he did because no one would ever find kellye's body if margaret found out frank is hot for her

AS HE SHOULD BE

[cocoabie]

the rooster teeth/achievement hunter community has a very long standing issue with racism and misogynoir and people are constantly looking to condemn black female cast members the very SECOND they say something that might be considered reprehensible by THEIR standards. anything harmful they get thrown their way is suddenly justified or expected or ignored just because somebody thinks they’re annoying or they did something in their past that if a fellow (white or male) coworker told the story, it’d get joked about for years, but because a black woman did it suddenly everything isn’t a joke and she’s given an ultimatum to apologize.

and before you fix your face to complain, regardless of what hembo said, this situation has A LOT to do with race. because when you make a video like this trying to “cancel” a black content creator in a predominantly white sphere, especially one with a community who has been notoriously racist in the past, i remind you, this opens up the floor for people to justify harassing them for god knows how long over something that was just a laugh between them and their friends. not that this doesn’t happen to nonblack folks too, but black people and poc always get the full force of it because of people’s unconscious bias.

and another thing, i think it’s so funny how he had a freudian slip at the beginning of his video saying his stance had nothing to do with race or gender, but you can talk about how you think stealing is wrong without those topics ever coming into question. immediately bringing that up to defend your pov really shows how you think subconsciously. and it’s borderline HILARIOUS how all he did to “condemn” the actions of rh is to continue to have videos WITH him up, but only delete the ones solely centered around him and make an edit of how to words good without him in it, but ky gets an entire 3 minute rant dedicated to how little he respects her and how he won’t be including her in his compilations going forward because she talked about stealing candy from a store in college. didn’t even brag about it or endorse shoplifting like hembo and his loyal fans are saying he did. & let’s not act like the stories of theft and activities MUCH WORSE than this haven’t been uplifted in the community and immortalized in rtaa’s.

like yall really do piss me off with your fucked up senses of right and wrong and what you consider to be cause enough to have a reaction like this over something so morally neutral as shoplifting. and the fact that i’ve already seen comments on his video not talking about the topic at all and just using this as an excuse to be like “FINALLY, i KNEW i had a rightful reason for always hating that bitch” is just so telling of how you guys will lie in wait for a person of color to have one little slip up and then it’s dogpile city.

by the way…..the fact that he can even think to be so petty as to make a video like this when his entire channel is built upon taking clips from rt videos and redistributing them is the funniest thing about this entire situation. like the call is coming from inside the house.

but in short. hembohero is a bitch who has hopefully lost any and all of the respect that he once had regardless of how you feel about shoplifting, vilifying black women and people for doing things on a much smaller scale than their white counterparts who get to laugh and joke about it is a racial bias, and if you’re going to try and condemn ky over this, you better be keeping that same energy for the cast members who have told similar stories in the past, or WILL tell similar stories in the future. goodnight.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn���t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[msfbgraves]

My friend has recently acquired a disability and now whenever they need an accomodation that is abnormal, they do this awkward 'shaming myself before you shame me-thing'

And I'm so not down with that.

They were unable to use sunscreen because they're violently allergic to all the perfumes people put in there as a matter of course. I walk slowly and, especially on a beach, with quite great difficulty.

The reason we were on the beach during nearly 40C heat was that it is the near only public space that allows you to bring your own food; near the only food my friend can safely eat.

The problem, though, was as follows - allow them to stay in the sun too long and, covered or not, they'd quite likely burn. But make me walk too fast, I'll hurt myself or pass out. So I gave them a head start to shade, after which they waited there while I sat down, caught my breath, drank a bottle of water and limped on to my car, where they joined me and sat inside while I loaded our stuff in, again, lest they burn horribly.

"Look at us struggling," they said in that faux funny tone.

I thought we'd been damn clever actually, getting our needs met by taking them into account and acting accordingly. No one was hurt, and we reached our goal as comfortably as possible.

"I refuse to be ashamed," I said. "We're managing, and well, without inconveniencing anyone. Not even ourselves."

But it really hurt me. Formerly abled people are always so apologetic. "Oh, I'm very slow." "Oh, I need help, like some idiot."

And I keep thinking: to they think needing consideration is shameful? Do they think my needing their consideration is shameful?

If you shame yourself for taking the actions you need to take to live a good life, how can you ever expect to live well? If you shame yourself out of fear of reprisal from the ableds, do you think you deserve it?

I don't shame myself for getting by, and if somebody tries, I will do my best to stay civil, but I will give them a piece of my mind.

People shame me a lot for being slow or clumsy, and I never go along with it other than to say: "Yes, but I never promised you any different, did I?" Because I refuse to live in a world where being slow or clumsy is shameful.

I know this perplexes them, and invariably, they figure out I have a disability and come rushing back, absolutely contrite and full of apologies. "I didn't know you have a disability," they say, and the If 'd have known you had an excuse, I wouldn't have shamed you goes unspoken. To which I always reply: "You couldn't have known. I didn't tell you," and the I don't owe you my medical information not to be publicly humiliated also goes unspoken, but rarely unheard. "Well, I'm sorry," this usually ends with, and that I will take, because they should be sorry, not for shaming a cripple, but for shaming anyone at all who did nothing but exist in their vicinity.

I will not be shamed for living the best life I can, and I'm hurt by the fact that others seem to think that I should be, really. That refusing to take harassment is a radical stance, and the only way to politely pre-empt it is to punish yourself first. Because you deserve it.

No.

I deserve dignity, same as anyone.

I may not always get it, but that is the other person's fault for mistreating people.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Learning Teamwork

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2184

Summary: Two colleagues that usually butt heads are forced to play nice when the President sends them to attend to a Governor's Ball in his home state.

Notes: I have so much Josh angst I wanted to write something a little fluffier that I could still capture his signature snark in. (For the purposes of this, I made up a Governor that would fit the story so if there was one discussed in the show, they aren’t in this one.) I also wrote this in two days so… bare with me.

-

If you hadn’t been in the presence of the President, you might have thrown something at him.

“If the President addresses this now, the Republicans will stop at nothing to get back at him for it.” He spoke in that smug, know-it-all tone that drove you insane.

“This is about real people, Mr. Lyman, not the little politics games that you play all day.”

“Okay, everyone, I think that’s enough.” The President’s order may have halted your argument, but you could still feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared Josh down. The rest of the team made a very quick exit, hoping to avoid becoming casualties in you and Josh’s on-going battle. But when the two of you started for the door, President Bartlet’s voice called you back. “Not. You. Two.”

You grimaced and turned back around, reveling a little in the fact that Josh looked just as uncomfortable as you did. One stern look from Jed Bartlet, however, was enough to diminish that.

“Is it physically impossible for the two of you to let me get through one meeting without going at each other’s throats?” He urged, his irritated gaze switching rapidly between the both of you. “Not only are you both a part of this team, you are adults for Christ sake!”

“Sorry, sir.” You gulped.

“My apologies, Mr. President.”

God, even apologizing, he had to try and sound smarter than you.

“I’m not finished yet.” The President walked around his desk and grabbed an envelope from under a pile of other papers. “The Governor of New Hampshire is hosting a ball on Saturday to celebrate something that I can’t even remember. Frankly, I think it’s because his wife enjoys parties a little too much, but who am I to judge?”

You and Josh exchanged a look that consisted more of confusion than anger.

Bartlet continued, “Well, seeing as I used to be Governor of my home state, he’s been kind enough to invite me, though I also think this is more of a way to get more Democratic backing for his next election. Nevertheless, while I am unable to attend due to this whole mess with possible terrorism, I know just the two members of my senior staff to send in my place.” He looked pointedly at both of you.

The excuses tumbled over each other as you and Josh blurted them out, desperately pleading to find something that would change his mind. You hated political gatherings in general but the idea of being forced to go with Josh? It twisted your stomach into so many knots you thought you’d throw up.

“There’s going to be political fallout from all of this and I should really be around-”

“C.J. and Toby are going to need me to-”

“Y/N could go by herself.” Josh said suddenly, making your jaw drop. That little snake. “I’m sure there are plenty of young men that’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“Says one of the White House’s most eligible bachelors.” You fired back, forgetting who you were standing in front of.

“Enough!” The President slammed the invitation down on the desk in front of the two of you. “This isn’t about who is more desirable than who. This is about you two learning how to work as a team and not biting each other’s heads off every time you’re in the same room together! Now, I am calling Governor Thompson and telling him you’re going and the two of you are going to be the picture of grace and maturity. If I hear one word of anything else, so help me god, your careers will be so buried, it’ll take years before they see the light of day.” His voice echoed through the Oval Office, rattling you down to the bone. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Good. Now go do whatever you need to to free up next Saturday.” He sat down, putting on his glasses to look over other documents. “Oh, and find something nice to wear. Mrs. Thompson has always been a bit of a stickler with the dress code.”

With that, you were dismissed and you felt the dread settling in your chest. You were going to a ball. In New Hampshire. With Josh Lyman for a date. As you shouldered out the door together, you cast glowering looks.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

-

If the snickers from Sam and C.J. weren’t enough to drive you crazy in the week leading up to your flight, scrambling to find a dress was not something you originally had on your schedule. Even when you had found one you liked, there was the matter of rescheduling everything you had the weekend you would be gone.

At least Josh seemed to be having as difficult a time as you were. Any time you saw him in passing, he looked frantic and disheveled- which would usually bring you a small amount of joy, but for some reason, knowing you were in the same boat actually made you feel better about going with him.

“Hey.”

You looked up from the piles of work from your desk, surprised to see your unfortunate date standing in your doorway. It was the day before you were set to leave and you both had mountains of work to try and finish.

“What can I help you with, Josh?”

“I just came to say that this might not be such a bad idea.” He moved from the door to the chair, but he didn’t sit down. He just stood anxiously behind it, leaning on the back. He actually looked sincere- and a voice in the back of your head pointed out that, without his usual cloud of arrogance that always hung around him, he was actually very attractive.

No. Definitely not. You hated him.

“Which part? Going to a ridiculous dance so that Governor Thompson can get more clout with Democrats or the fact that we have to go as a bonding exercise?” Your tone was cold, even more so than usual. Call it overcorrecting for your brain’s traitorous thoughts.

“I think the President is right.” Josh’s posture changed, standing up a little straighter as his tone grew defensive. “If this is what it takes to get us to work together, then I guess we deserve it.”

“Funny, since when he first proposed the idea you suggested that I go alone.” You stood up, crossing your arms.

Josh mimicked your stance, his brow furrowing with anger. “Look, I came in here to make some kind of peace with you, and I don’t understand-”

“I know what you came here to do, Josh. You want to show me that I don’t understand Bartlet the way you do while you play some kind of martyr for going on this trip.” You leaned forward with your hands on your desk and he did the same. Your faces must have only been a few inches apart.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

You’d never wanted to kiss Josh Lyman more than you did in that moment and couldn’t hate him more for it.

-

Your seats on the plane were right next to each other. Because of course, they were. Josh got the window seat despite your protests, sticking you in the middle between him and a rather obnoxious businessman who was speaking loudly on his phone.

“Sir, I need you to turn that off as we prepare to take off.” The flight attendant instructed.

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

“Now, sir.” Her voice was a semi-irritated monotone that left little room for any argument. The man gave her an annoyed look and ended his call. “Thank you, sir.” She continued down the aisle to berate somebody else. Without the distraction of work, he sought out a new way to pass the time- you.

“What takes you to Concord?” He leaned a little closer to you than you would have preferred, but leaning back would basically put you in Josh’s lap so you stayed put.

“My coworker and I have an event to attend.” You motioned to the seemingly oblivious man on the other side of you.

“Just coworker?” His casual expression turned into a suggestive smirk and you felt his fingers run up your knee. You jerked away from him.

“Husband, actually, so how about you keep your hands to yourself?” Josh snapped suddenly, giving Mr. Handsy a death glare. You stared at Josh with wide eyes and forced your mouth shut to keep it from gaping in shock. The man beside you must have been as surprised as you because words came out as a whispered stutter.

“Sorry, I didn’t- she said- and I thought-”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong.” He stood up. “Here, honey, why don’t you take the window seat?”

You sat there, without moving, for a few seconds before he nudged your leg with his foot and you climbed over him to get to the seat by the window. Once you were both situated, the other man got suddenly very interested in the papers from his briefcase.

You leaned over and whispered in Josh’s ear. “Honey? Really?”

“Don’t start.” Though his voice sounded irritated, there was almost a small smile playing at his lips. You shifted awkwardly, trying to keep a smirk from your own lips.

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you want the window seat or not?” Now his smile had grown into a snicker, making you laugh lightly.

“Who would have thought you were such a gentleman?”

“Well, I’m a married man now, apparently.” He teased. You rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

-

After an hour of shaking hands and dancing with the Governor’s persistent son, you were ready to knock your head against the wall until you passed out. Oddly enough, you had yet to see Josh. Mrs. Thompson invited you to come early for tea so you hadn’t arrived together. You were beginning to think he’d bailed when you saw him across the room.

Pushing your way over to him, his eyes widened when he finally saw you.

“You look amazing.” He gasped, his eyes scanning your silky blue dress before settling on your eyes. “I mean… wow.”

You felt blush tint your cheeks as a smile spread across your lips. He cleaned up pretty well himself and you found yourself checking him out for what you wished you could say was the first time ever. What could you say? The man looked good in suits.

You must have stood there, staring at each other, for a few minutes before Ned Thompson came into view. Without a second to think, you grabbed Josh’s hand.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” You yanked him with you onto the dance floor, losing sight of the Governor’s persistent son.

Josh looked around, trying to see who you seemed so desperate to avoid as the two of you began to sway to the music. “What was that about?”

You checked one more time to make sure the coast was clear. “Ned.”

“The Governor’s kid?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he, like, ten years younger than you.”

“He’s only eight, but yes.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his pestering. On the bright side, he was a pretty good dancer. “If I dance with him one more time, I think he’ll propose.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Just tell him you’re married to me.” Josh smirked. “Worked the last time.” You both chuckled and continued dancing. For a while, you forgot why you were here to begin with. You were enjoying yourself more than you cared to admit. In a room full of people, the only one you wanted to dance with was the man you loved to hate.

Maybe it was the other way around.

-

You sat up in bed, sipping coffee and reading the paper while the sound of the hotel’s heater droned on. The fluffy white robe enveloped your body perfectly, but the real warmth came from the sleeping form beside you as he turned over, swinging his arm so it was around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You smiled in both amusement and complete bewilderment as to how you got here.

“I don’t think this is what the President meant by ‘teamwork’.” You noted, folding up the paper and setting it aside.

Josh peeked up at you, half his face still smooshed against the pillow.

“Goodmorning.” He greeted groggily, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.

“I made you coffee.” You handed him the little Styrofoam cup and waited until he’d had enough to wake up a little more. “What are we supposed to tell him when he asks how everything went?”

He thought for a moment. “You know, we didn’t fight at all last night.” He was right. Between the ball and, well, everything after that, not a single argument was had.

You shrugged and held out your cup of coffee for a cheers. “To teamwork,” Josh smirked and tapped his cup against yours.

“To teamwork.”

[sneezyminniejo]

All in the Timing

This was requested on AO3

Felix gets injured during practice

TW injury

The members of the Mayfly dance unit were gathered in KQ Entertainment's practice room eating the ice cream Peniel ordered. They were also beginning discussions on what they wanted to do for their performance.

"I think it would be awesome if Peniel hyung is like commanding a bunch of dogs on leashes." Minho said. The others were quick to agree.

There was a whole host of conversation on the choreo, when San chimed in "What if one of us jumps off a platform and lands in another's arms." Everyone started to murmur in excitement at the thought of the stunt and immediately began planning out the details.

After some deliberation, it was decided that Felix would be the one to jump, while Wooyoung would catch him. The nine members then began discussing the logistics of the jump.

They decided that Wooyoung would be braced by four or five dancers, while Felix would get a running start before jumping into the older man's arms. It was also decided that four dancers would prop Felix up until he could practice on the actual set.

The practices at the studio had been going swimmingly. There was one moment where Wooyoung nearly dropped Felix, but no one got hurt. It just caused the duo to be more determined to practice the jump.

After another long day of practice, the five Ateez members invited the other four over to their dorm for dinner. Peniel declined, as he needed to get back to his own apartment for some rest before recording his podcast. Minho and Jeongin also declined, having already made plans with some of their friends. Minho merely told Felix to be back at the dorm by a reasonable hour and left it at that.

When the six men arrived at the Ateez dorm, they all got comfortable on the couch as they discussed what to have for dinner. Seonghwa insisted on making something and eventually got Felix to choose what. Seonghwa then moved to the kitchen to begin making dinner.

As Seonghwa was preparing dinner the other two Ateez members returned home and were equally ecstatic that Felix was joining them for dinner. “I know Minho hyung said that you should get back to your own dorm at a reasonable time, but you guys were also talking about how your first schedule is coming here for practice, so why don’t you just sleep over? It’ll save you the headache of travelling.” Jongho had said at one point. Soon after the others were humming in agreement about how it made more logical sense to just stay over.

Felix pondered for a minute. “I would need to borrow some clothes, but as long as I text Chan-hyung, I should be able to stay the night with no problems.” He quickly texted Chan and Minho just in case Chan was too absorbed in his own work and quickly got a thumbs up emoji in response from both of them.

“Hyung says I can stay the night, but I’m going to need to borrow somebody’s clothes for the night, and tomorrow.” Everyone was excited and the others were quick to figure out who’s clothes Felix could borrow and the sleeping arrangements for the night before they continued to eat their dinner.

At some point after dinner, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had decided to go to their rooms. Hongjoong to get some writing done, and Seonghwa wanted to continue reading a book he was in the middle of. That left the 99 liners and the 00 liners in the living room.

The six men were sitting in the living room chatting and the five members of Mayfly’s dance unit started to tell Jongho about the jump they had planned for their choreography.

“I almost dropped him last time Jongie. I feel like we need more practice, but we need four people to hold me up and four more to prom Felix up since we don’t have the platform yet.” Wooyoung pouted slightly as he was complaining to his dongsaeng. Jongho was listening intently to his hyung then got an idea.

“Hyungs, we have enough people to practice the jump right here.” The others stared at him a moment, then San motioned for him to continue. “ We could all hold up Wooyoungie hyung, and Felix could run off the couch.” The first person to move was Felix, who immediately jumped on the couch and started making power stances. The others moved some things out of the way then worked together to figure out how to properly brace Wooyoung.

One the 99 liners and Jongho were confident in having Wooyoung properly braced, Wooyoung gave Felix the go ahead to run off the couch and jump into his arms. Felix made sure he was on the opposite end of the couch from where he was going to jump, then he started running.

When Felix jumped off the armrest of the couch, his foot slipped, making it so he didn’t have a firm stance when he leapt into the air. Since Felix didn’t have a firm stance when he jumped, he was also unable to properly land in Wooyoung’s arms.

It almost happened in slow motion. Felix felt his ankle twinge weirdly when he jumped, and again when it accidentally hit Yunho’s side. Wooyoung is holding onto Felix’ shirt as if his life depended on it. However because Felix didn’t land properly, Wooyoung didn’t have a proper grip on the younger, practically taking off Felix’ shirt in the process.

Wooyoung quickly got out of the grasp of the others, and they all went to assess both Yunho and Felix. Yunho wasn’t very hurt. Felix hadn’t kicked very hard at all. It was more of his foot digging into his side a little as he fell than it was a kick. Felix on the other hand was sitting on the ground holding foot up to his chest.

“Felix-ah, are you hurt?” San asked, somewhat rhetorically since the younger was cradling one of his feet. Felix nodded as tears began to emerge from his eyes. “I think I twisted my ankle.” Yeosang quickly ran to the kitchen to get some ice, while San and Jongho helped Felix stand up. As soon as Felix tried to put some weight on his foot, he hissed in pain and brought his foot back into the air as he was helped to the couch. Meanwhile Wooyoung went to go get Hongjoong and Seonghwa, so they could be informed that their guest was injured.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were quick to leave their rooms to see what the damage was. Seonghwa took a look at Felix’ ankle and agreed that it was most likely sprained. Wooyoung was messaging Minho to tell him Felix was injured, while Hongjoong was doing the same thing with Chan.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung both assured Chan and Minho respectively that Felix had ice on his ankle and that they had bandages to wrap it up in later. The two Ateez members sighed as they put down their phones and went to help out. 

Wooyoung went to the bathroom to get the bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water. When he returned to the living room, he handed the medicine to the younger and began propping his foot up on the throw pillows that had been thrown to the floor when they practiced their stunt.

“So all Wooyoung told us was that Felix had injured his ankle. He didn’t tell us how. Would anyone care to enlighten us?” Seonghwa asked the group, giving them a very stern look, daring them to lie to him. Felix was the one to confess. “We were practicing the stunt for our Mayfly performance. I got the timing wrong when I jumped off the couch.” Seonghwa just about face palmed upon hearing what happened. Instead he sighed exasperatedly and sat down next to the younger.

“We need to keep your foot elevated tonight, and you probably shouldn’t put any weight on it for the next few days.” Seongwha paused and gave everyone a stern look before continuing, “That means no practicing the choreo or the stunt for Felix.” The others were quick to nod their heads in understanding. Satisfied, Seonghwa turned on the tv and told the others to get ready for bed. Hongjoong had just returned from their storage closet holding a pair of crutches from the last time one of them had injured their leg.

“Here Felix, this way you can get around our dorm without having to put any weight on your foot and no one will have to carry you.” Felix thanked the older, glad that he wouldn’t have to be carried around until he got back to his own dorm. It wasn’t long after that the others returned to the living room. They watched tv for a little while before deciding that it was time for bed. The members of the dance unit were all thinking similar things, ‘dance practice will be interesting tomorrow.’

The following day Felix, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung guiltily waited for the others to arrive. Minho and Jeongin were the first to enter the room. Both members went over to Felix to see how his ankle was. “Hyung, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt as much today as it did yesterday, and I can move my ankle just fine. It primarily hurts if I try to put weight on it.” Felix demonstrated by rotating his ankle, showing zero discomfort. Minho sighed in relief, as that meant it wasn’t a severe injury.

A few minutes later, a completely oblivious Peniel entered the practice room. Peniel felt the tension as soon as he walked in. “What’s with all the tension? I could cut it with a knife.” Peniel joked before he zeroed in on Felix’ propped up ankle with a set of crutches at his side.

“What happened to Felix?” Peniel asked Minho. Minho shrugged, “Ask him, he slept over with Ateez last night and we got a message from Hongjoong and Wooyoung saying he got hurt and he probably wouldn’t be able to practice for a few days. Peniel looked at Felix, Concern etched on his face.

Felix Sheepishly looked down at his hands as he answered. “Funny you should mention practice. We decided to practice the jump last night at the dorm and my timing was a bit off. When I jumped off the couch, my foot slipped and Wooyoung wasn’t able to catch me.”

“Felix, did you learn nothing from the monkey’s who jumped on the bed?” Peniel asked. Felix chuckled a little at Peniel’s joke. “Nice one, but in my defence, I was jumping off a couch doing a stunt, not jumping on a bed with no regards to my surroundings.” Felix then high fived Peniel, glad that the older wasn’t mad at him. The others were a bit confused at what the two native English speakers were talking about, but decided not to question it in favor of practicing.

The day of the Kingdom performance, Felix’ ankle was almost completely healed. Throughout all the preparation Felix and Wooyoung decided that they were going to do the stunt, even though they hadn’t had as much practice as they would have liked. Felix had been dancing just fine throughout the entirety of the performance, but when it came time for his stunt, he had become nervous and hoped he wouldn’t re-injure his ankle.

As Felix was running across the platform, he hoped with all his might that he would get the timing correct and land safely in Wooyoung’s arms. Unknowingly to Felix, Chan had been watching worriedly in the SKZ waiting room and had actually worriedly said Felix’ name out loud in concern when it came time for the jump. To his, and everyone else’s relief, Felix landed squarely in Wooyoung’s arms. The members of the other three groups didn’t know that Felix did the stunt on an injured ankle and were even more impressed when they found out.

After Mayfly was done with all of their performances, Eunkwang bought ice cream for everyone.

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[agent-cupcake]

So happy you but up the headcanons! All of them are gems and I love them so much. Rereading the Dimitri and Felix rivalry hc made me want to ask for claude and yuri rivalry, but dark of course because both of these boys are sane and logical and would move on if they both caught feelings for you and weren't attached to you by a dark obession lol.

Sorry, I know you asked for love rivalry but I simply could not help myself and got a little carried away with seeing the so-called rivalry to his inevitable conclusion :3c

~Not that it’s probably necessary, but I had to consider the timeline for this. A rivalry between them wouldn’t fit in the events of the game because of Claude’s ambition, but he leaves the country in most endings. My solutions would be to have Claude split his time between Fódlan and Almyra as a politically active prince such as in his solo ending or to propose that Yuri would spend a lot of time in Almyra. Reasons for this could be that he went in aid of his good friend and military commander Balthus (Yuri would make for an awfully good royally sanctioned spy) or that he’s abusing the newfound system of open-market international trade for his criminal enterprise. Either way, Claude is powerful Almyran royalty and Yuri is a shady figure of the underworld. Not too unlike a story I’ve written, but this is separate from that. None of this really matters, ultimately, but whatever I like to think of how this would work out.

~Both men are powerful and ambitious. Both of them are emotionally isolated despite (or because of) their positions. They’re friends, or at least on friendly terms so there’d be a lot of overlap in social circles. And, really, they are quite similar so it’s plausible that they’d go for the same type.  

~I’ve since changed my stance on reasons why Claude might develop a fixation on someone. He is concerned with the intrinsic value of a person. He values the thoughts, feelings, and especially the perception of people he is close with. Claude is also a loner, a fundamentally lonesome person who wishes to be seen and loved on his own merits despite the guard he puts up and the social games he plays. Not to say I entirely retcon my previous opinion, but I focused too hard on the idea that he would need to dehumanize you by zeroing in on utilitarian usefulness rather than be driven to darker feelings by his fear of being alone and need to find a connection.

~This all goes for Yuri too, although it’s easier for me to imagine Yuri getting his authentic feelings twisted up and dark. Yuri’s circumstances were somewhat similar to Claude’s, except that he was shown genuine affection by his mother and the old man. Therefore, he knows what it is to lose that. He learned early on what it is to have people die because of him, to shoulder the burden of guilt that comes with such profound loss. Yuri’s scarred by a brutal, painful upbringing where “love” was a commodity to be traded in for favors (even by his mother) and genuine, honest relationships became nearly impossible to comprehend. If he met you and developed those true, affectionate feelings, if he found a so-called light in the darkness, maybe it’d make sense that he’d do everything he could to keep it from losing it.

~Their similarities in this instance would work out for this scenario. Somebody useful to them, somebody authentic enough to appeal to their deeply ingrained sense of loneliness, somebody clever or interesting or fun… There’s a lot of reasons they could develop unhealthy feelings for you born out of an innocently platonic friendship.

~And it would have to be platonic on both counts. Yuri and Claude are too self-aware for them to make a move if you made a choice early on. Or, I don’t think it’d become as big of a production because they wouldn’t have emotionally invested so much in you. Leading them both on unintentionally just by having a normal human friendship is kinda sad but also kinda funny.

~They’d know that you were close with the other. Of course they would. Maybe it would hurt, but neither would express that feeling to you. Claude would ask pointed (but not direct) questions about your feelings and dazzle you with grand overtures. Yuri would work the seductive and sweet angle, trying to win your heart the old fashioned way. But, you know, with more uncomfortable subtext and innuendo.   

~Something that has not changed is my opinion that Claude would be obsessive about his darker feelings. Not on a consistent, all the time basis, but more like a hobby. A puzzle he couldn’t solve, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He’d search for all of the pieces of you in the hopes that the final picture would allow him to understand his increasingly dangerous feelings. Claude’s not stupid, he’s really self aware. Enough to feel guilt, enough to recognize that what he’s doing isn’t right, and enough to justify himself out of the responsibility of doing amoral things for the right reasons.

~Yuri, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so… aggressive about it. He’d want you to come to him, to return to him again and again to prove to himself that what he feels isn’t wrong, to ingratiate himself into your life in a way that validated everything he felt for you and put you on more equal footing. He’d internalize everything a lot more, feel a lot of guilt about the intensity of his feelings, but he’d find ways to keep you close. Or, for you to keep him close.

~Don’t get me wrong, though, you wouldn’t get so much of a glimpse of this weaker, more vulnerable Yuri. He’d go the opposite direction of his guilt or doubt, wearing an impenetrable smiling, sarcastic, playful mask. My main point is that I see him as being more emotionally wrecked by having these dark feelings due to his self hatred. I also think Yuri would be more generally sensitive to unhealthy romance dynamics, especially if it became physical at all. 

~In an interestingly twisted way, Yuri hypocritically recognizing Claude’s behavior as being dangerous would encourage him to be more proactive about his own feelings and feel less guilty about doing so. Being the protective type rather than the obsessive really just fits Yuri so much better, although I see it as one ultimately leading to the other.

~It’s not about winning. They’d be competing, clearly battling against each other for you in a way that would not only be creepily objectifying, but also emotionally strenuous, but they’d keep on insisting that it wouldn’t be about winning. They’d just want you to be happy, to be safe. They both would just want what’s best for you. And what is best for you? Just ask them.

~Claude’s argument: Yuri’s lifestyle is dangerous. He’s a good guy, Claude really does trust him, buuuuut he’s not exactly the type of man you’d be safe with, you know?

~Yuri’s argument: Claude’s not treating you right. He’s obviously manipulating you, how could you possibly miss that? You deserve better, don’t you agree?

~But in the same breath they’d both insist that if you didn’t want to be with them romantically, that would be fine. They both, truly and unselfishly, would just want you to be happy. Just want to stay close with you. Veeeeeery unselfishly. 

~Their interactions with each other would be amazingly fake and aloof. Making small talk and smiling all the while vying for your attention in a nearly juvenile tug-of-war. Still, I don’t think, even through all of this, that they’d dislike each other. It’s not about winning, right? It’s not a game, right?

~Okay, so, I know the whole thing with scenarios like this is an inability to face rejection, but if you were to chose Yuri over Claude or vice versa, that’s where it would end. Committing yourself to one of them still wouldn’t work out super well because that’s the nature of giving into such dark and unhealthy feelings, but it would no longer be a rivalry.

~Let me propose, then, that you would eventually reject both of them. At first, the whole thing would have been so fun and so nice. Getting all of this attention from two powerful and attractive guys would be exciting. You’d feel so lucky, they’re both charming and friendly and kind. But then things would have gotten more intense and there’s this weird love triangle that is incredibly trite and uncomfortable and you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt either of them so it’s better to just leave it, right?

~Yuri would be more likely to use his personal feelings as a tactic of manipulation, I think. Worse, he probably wouldn’t see it that way. He knows, he truly knows, how dangerous and terrible the world could be and he’d do anything to shield you from it and his feelings would reflect that. Granted, if he felt you weren’t getting it, I don’t think Yuri would exactly be above veiled threats or bludgeoning you with fear tactics and even a dash of shame for how you’d played with both their hearts.

~Claude would do his best to convince you that you didn’t actually want to go. You didn’t have to chose either of them, but you couldn’t leave, either. That was way too dramatic. Besides… wasn’t it a little selfish? This was where you were needed, he relied on you. He trusted you. Sure, Claude’s a visionary, but what does that vision matter if the one who he shares his dreams with is gone?

~Maybe that wouldn’t work, though. Long term, it probably wouldn’t. I mentioned before that they wouldn’t hate each other, so if it came down to actually losing you, why not work together?

~Love triangles are for chumps, invest in a horribly unhealthy three person dynamic with possible kidnap and very overt tones of mental and emotional manipulation.

~That would solve all the the problems, wouldn’t it? Why would you try and leave them after they made so many compromises for you? Really, would you be that ungrateful and callous? They would both care about you so much, love you, even. Yuri and Claude would be trying to make it work despite the fact that it came down to essentially a tie in this bizarre game, why couldn’t you do your part? Landing such attractive and powerful guys, having them lay their hearts at your feet, you’d have to be a really terrible and selfish person to reject that. Not that you’d be given a lot of choice, but the devils in the details and if you fought them on this, it probably wouldn’t end up very pretty for you.

~Not saying either of them would hurt you. Physically, I mean. Probably. 

~In some ways, the compromise would make the guilt easier for them to bear. The fact that they were also being forced to deal with something they wouldn’t necessarily want to would be a leveling ground for them to justify any of your unhappiness with the situation. Like, it was all an equal amount of compromise to make things work for all three of you. 

~Claude would know how much Yuri meant to you and feel like the fact that he hadn’t taken that away from you absolved him of a lot of the responsibility of the other things he’d taken from you. Plus, Claude’s a distracted guy who’d lose track of things sometimes, always getting caught up in whatever project he was working on at the time, so he’d know that you wouldn’t be lonely during those times.

~Yuri would see Claude as being, in many ways, a better person than him. More out of a horrible sense of self perception than fact. So Yuri could have his piece of you with the recognition that Claude was there to balance the worst parts of himself and make you happy in ways this dark, twisty version of Yuri might not think he could.

~I don’t think that either Yuri or Claude would ever truly get along because of how similar they are and the fact that they both kinda lost to the other but I also don’t think that would be a huge issue. Their verbal sparring would be entertaining, honestly. 

[ravenousnightwind]

(Long post about my experience with the gods and advice for beginners and adepts alike concerning heathenry. They're numbered so scroll down if you just want those. I'm not nice on some of them cuz some of you are dipshits.)

When I did trance every day for five years straight, it took a lot out of me. Then when I wrote my book, I felt like I had done what I had to do in that moment. I could finally relax and idk, be myself? There's a certain kind of intensity when it comes to possession. I had control, but it was also like part of me wasn't me? If that makes sense. My thoughts were mine, but I could feel an influence pushing me towards certain actions.

When I stopped, it took me really until now, before I was able to pick it back up again. Which is around five to six years ago. Funny, that I did all that in a decade. I just don't feel the need for trance anymore, and after experiencing it, and the community that comes with that, I just want to say a few things.

1. Take time to yourself. The gods can wait until you've gotten your time. Don't feel pressured into doing shit that's going to stress you out, especially if it's by someone in the community.

2. Don't let people make you think the gods will punish you if you don't perform magic or trance. You don't need to know or learn any of that to worship the gods.

3. If you do learn trance, you need to realize that not everybody is going to be like you. You don't have to make it a profession, or it be the same for every person. We all have different experiences with the gods. Our relationships are different. Do your thing, let others do theirs. Don't stress so much about doing the right trance session etc. Just cuz a thing works that way for you, doesn't mean it works that way for everybody.

4. Instead of trying to find the gods in some other world by using your mind to connect to them spiritually, maybe go out into nature to find them. Their works are all around us, and we should be able to worship, and just go sit by a tree without thinking about that raven cawing and thinking it's Odin. Sometimes a raven is just a raven doing raven things, but at the same time, it's still part of Odin. It doesn't have to mean anything is being said to you.

5. Really important, Live Your Life! There's always a place for worship, trance, religion, but that should never come before yourself and your responsibilities. I don't always sing my hymns when I wake up. I just wait sometimes. At the end of the day though it's what I personally choose to do. You're allowed to do your own thing! Stop thinking you have to compete or be like everyone else. You fucking Don't

6. If you're gonna talk about history, actually look stuff up from professional archeologists and linguistic professors. Do Not rely solely on YouTube or trance/spirit workers. Modern pagan sources are not reliable. They're often misinformed or exaggerated.

7. Stop Hating On People Who Have A Different Practice or Belief Than You Do! It's rude, offensive, and completely nonsensical. Stop it. Hate has no place in what we do, and that goes for hating on Christians because they stole Christmas. No they didn't. Stop that shit. Pagan and Christian ideals are very meshed together because history does that. There is no pure anything, there's no original anything. Everything has a past before its past and so on.

8. Cultural appropriation is not a thing in heathenry, (unless you're actively stealing from another cultures way, such as the sami, which is not norse in the first place) the gods are well integrated into varying kinds of culture now, it doesn't just belong to white people, and even when it was in Scandinavia, history proves that anyone could be norse. Stop your racist bullshit.

9. No one is right or wrong. This is a belief, it isn't something you can simply call a God up on the phone to personally ask them what their stance is on something. You can't have them send you a fax. You can't go to their office and find the file that says your name and number. No one is right, and no one is wrong. You can be wrong historically, but you cannot be wrong about your personal beliefs. How you gonna tell somebody they're wrong for believing something? You could, but it's nonsensical.

I don't care if you disagree. These are issues, hard and soft of what I've seen and experienced in the community. If you dislike that, idk, maybe look at yourself instead of bothering others with these issues. You can think I'm wrong all you want, but it's still my experience. :P