#theo is explaining his last therapy session
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thinking about liam and theo at a house party drunk as skunks fully clothed in a bathtub together and laughing about how fucked up they are
#theo is explaining his last therapy session#he was too autistic and traumatised to realise the ways his autism and trauma were affecting him#and guess what liam is the same#and like it's important to talk about that kinda stuff seriously but it's also important to laugh about it sometimes#especially for these boys i think they just learn to accept eventually that beacon hills fucked them up real bad#damn it's going on my list of things to write#thiam#theo raeken#liam dunbar
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-Chapstick- Pansy Parkinson x Female Reader
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  Kody: the lesbians have risen
 Request: pansy x reader where they are friends & reader loves chapsticks very much because chapped lips also the taste and the smell are cute ?? and then she has different variants of it. Pans could smell it sometimes when she purposely gets closer, got curious one time and asked for it and she casually gave it. One time Pans asked what flavour was the one on her lips right now because it's different from the usual??? and reader was like see for yourself and then they ki- IM SO GAY FOR PANSY PARKINSON - đ
 House: Slytherin
 Possible Triggers / Warnings: lesbian power couple baby, cursing, y/n being a bottom, making out.Â
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  since day one you had been best friends with Pansy Parkinson. Even in your small little friend group that consisted of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott, you just gravitated towards Pansy more. Maybe it was because you were both girls or the fact that you had met her first.
  throughout your school years you and Pansy were like a power duo. Some were scared, some wanted your title, and the rest despised you both. Even with all the popularity you werenât mean or cude to people who didnât deserve it. Kill them with kindness is what youâd always say.
  around your 6th year is when you enveloped your slight chapstick addiction. You had noticed your lips become more flaking and chapped as you grew up so over the summer when you visited america you bought a pack with a variety of different flavors.Â
  Pansy made fun of you at first because of how quickly you had started to buy more and more until you had a collection. After all the teasing you two developed a sort of game you could say. Anytime Pansy could smell the chapstick on you she would try and guess what scent it was.
  at first it was cute and friendly, but out of nowhere she would grab your face and bring it close to hers so she could smell the chapstick. It would be so sudden and make your stomach twist in a way you had never felt before, especially when she would send you a wink after she backed away.Â
  after a lot of thinking and âtherapyâ sessions with Theo you had come to the conclusion that you had fell for your best friend. It was very cheesy, but it was true. Pansy Parkinson had stolen your heart and you terrified at the power she held over you.
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  7th year
  you were practically running towards the field, hoping the outfit you chose would keep you warm enough in the nippy weather. You did not want to be late to Draco and Blaises quidditch match against Gryffindor. Of course you cheered on your friends, who wouldnât?
  you began to climb up the stairs to make your way into the stands. Once you make it to the top you gaze through the crowd and spot the familiar black haired female leaning back to look up at the sky. She looked very focused on something in the sky.
  Pansy was wearing a large black sweater with some kind of white t-shirt sticking out from the bottom with matching black pants and shoes. She looked in casual clothes- in anything really. You make your way through the crowd, pushing past a couple people while mumbling âexcuse meâ and such.
  you take a seat next to Pansy who looks back down to face you âThought you werenât gonna show. You look nice by the wayâ she comments and you shake your head. You were wearing a black crop with matching pants and a oversized navy blue hoodie.Â
  your stomach twist like many times before. âThanksâ you reply before suddenly realizing you were missing a friend âWhereâs Theo?â you ask. Pansy lifts up her hand to point in front of her. You follow her finger until you spot the back of Theos head âHe wanted to be closer to watch Blaiseâ
  you nod once before you heard Lee Jordan begin the announcements.
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  while watching a breeze blew past you and towards Pansy. The Slytherin girls nose scrunched up as she smelled something, something fruity? (because your gay duh) She turns to look at you, brown eyes narrowed. You felt her eyes on you and face her âWhat?-âÂ
  Pansy grabs your face with both of her hands. You could feel the cold metal of the rings she wore against your cheek. Pansy leans in close, her nose centimeters from your mouth. You could hear her sniff as your face began to feel hot.Â
  she was so close. The smell of hrt minty breath from her gum she had been chewing made everything in your body flare up. It was only a second, but felt like hours before she pulled away âYour wearing strawberryâ Pansy had a cocky smirk on her face as she spoke, her hands slowly falling from your face
  you blink mindlessly as you reach into the packet of your jacket. You pull out the tube of strawberry chapstick. Pansyâs smirk only grows wider âKnew it, what's my prize?â she asked. Your face twist a bit. A prize? She had never asked for one before.
  âWhat do you want?â
  âA Kissâ
  your mouth opens a bit to speak, but you choke on your words instead. Pansy lets out a chuckle and turns to face forward again âIâm only kiddingâ
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  you were walking alongside Pansy, Theo, Draco and Blaise. You were all leaving the quidditch field and head back to the common room. Slytherin had won and the team was going out for butterbeer at the three broomsticks. Draco and Blaise had opted out saying they wanted to celebrate with close friends.
  just you guys, how sweet.
  âSo- did Y/n and Pans. I flew past you guys and for a brief second and i swore i saw you guys making outâ Draco spoke making Blaise and Theo laugh. âYou guys were what now? I knew you were close, but no that close damnâ Draco adds were made the boys laugh even harder.
  you roll your eyes playfully and walk behind behind Draco. He doesnât see you as you wack the back of his head âOw!â he exclaimed. Pansy chuckles âWe were not making out by the way. I was smelling her chapstickâ she explains. The boys nod and silence consumes you all after that.
  that is until Theo speaks up âThatâs still gayâ
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  you all spent the night together, talking, goofing around, and drinking firewhiskey. It was a fun idea at the time, but you all got wasted more than youâd like to admit. Your E/c eyes open slowly and your met with skin? You lift your head up, you were laying on top of Pansy.
  Y/n.exe has stopped working
  she was wearing her black flannel pants as well as her matching sports bra. Your heart might have stopped right then and there. You look down at what you were wearing and noticed you only had your undergarments and Pansyâs sweater that she had worn at the game.Â
  before having time to freak the hell out you heard the black haired girl mumble under you âmorningâ she mumbles, her eyes opening slowly. You give her a half smile before sitting up âUm- how did- how did i end up here?â you ask. Pansy uses her elbows to prop herself up.
  she pushes her bangs from her face. They had began to grow over her eyes, but refused to cut them after you said you liked them longer. âYou got a bit tipsy so i brought you here to rest. As well as those threeâ she says and points to the floor. You raise a brow and crawl to the edge of the bed.
  on the floor was Blaise and Theo cuddling on the ground. Cute. Draco was laying next to Blaise curled up in a ball with a blanket over him. Also cute. âDamn, i guess you played mom for a bit huh?â you joke, sitting back down on the bed.Â
  Pansy shrugs her shoulders âYou could say that. Your hug things in your sleep, did you know that?â
  âIâm sorry what?â
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  later in the day you were in your own dorm room studying for an exam in charms you had the next day. While writing down a few notes you heard your door open. You place the quill down and turn in your chair to see Pansy at the door.Â
  she had on a black t-shirt with a sheer long sleeve one underneath, black pants with a white dragon that stopped above her ankles and black socks with checkered vans. Pansy had a plate of food in each hand âTheo told me you hadnât eaten lunch yet so i brought you some.â
  âYou look cute by the wayâ she adds with a wink
  you smile lightly and pat the chair next to yours âIâm guessing you came to eat with me as well?â you ask and she nods, taking a seat. She places the plate of food in front of you and places her down as well. Pansy began to move your textbooks around as you reached into the pocket off your black jeans.
  you pulled out your new chapstick âfruit punchâ and took off the cap. You smear it on your bottom lip before popping the cap back on and into your pocket while rubbing both your lips together to apply it evenly. Pansy smells something fruity again and smiles lightly.
  except for this smelt different. Way different. Nothing you had worn before.
  Pansy looks at you as you grab a fork with a amused smirk âNew chapstick?â she asked. You noticed her playful tone. Turning in your sea you face Pansy âMaybe, maybe notâ you say vaguely, shrugging your shoulders. Pansy rolls her eyes and faces you too.
  like last time she reaches up and grabs your face, pulling it close to hers. You hear her sniff just like before, but this time her eyebrows furrow âWhat the fuck is that?â she asks, making you laugh quietly âCanât figure it out?â you tease. Her brown eyes narrow into a glare âShut upâ she hisses.
  what a baby
  Pansy stays like that for a couple seconds before exhaling loudly âWhat the hell is itâ she grumbles. A risky idea popped into your mind in an instant. It was dumb, but you were so tired of just being friends with her. You were willing to risk it all in one question.
  âSee for yourself thenâ
  you couldnât really remember much between the the couple seconds of silence. All you remember is Pansyâs lips on your feverishly. She leaned into kiss you deeper, making you almost fall out the chair. She was not taking it slow in the slightest.
  As Pansyâs mouth moves against yours she leans down and uses her hands to scoop up your thighs. She lifts you up and you wrap your arms around her waist tightly, making Pansy let out a muffled noise. You felt a hard surface hit your back and assumed Pansy had leant you against the wall.
  Pansy ran her tongue against your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly for her and Pansyâs tongue slipped into your mouth instantly. You felt a cold piece of metal on your tongue that connected to hers. It took you a second to process what it was.
  she had a tongue piercing
  âYou have a tongue piercing?â you ask between hot kisses. You feel her smirk against your lips as one hand traces circles on your exposed stomach. She pulls away for a moment âYeah. Problem?â she questions, panting slightly. You shake your head quickly âNope- itâs just really hotâ
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  an hour later
  âYou owe me ten galleonsâ Draco spoke.
  Blaise groans and reaches into his pocket to dig out the money and place it in his hands âYeah, yeah whateverâ he grumbles.
  Theo smiles happily âIâm so happy for them!â
  Draco nods slowly âIâm pretty sure the whole house heard them thoughâ
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesssÂ
  âŒ-âȘ-âŒ
  Kody- lesbian things lesbian things. Anyways request are open, peace.
#lesbian pansy#pansy parkinson#pansy parkinson x reader#pansy parkinson x you#pansy parkinson x y/n#pansy parkinson x fem!reader#pansy parkinson x female reader#pansy parkinson x slytherin!reader#slytherin#x fem!reader#x female reader#x you#x y/n#x reader#imagine#imagines#oneshot#one shot#one shots#harry potter#harry potter oneshot#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theodore nott
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Baby Steps
summary: youâre harryâs sons therapist, and he isn't the only one you end up helping.
word count:Â hi! it has been a long while since Iâve posted on here so I hope you enjoy this 8.6k piece of pure fluff and smut!
masterlist |   asks
As a child, Harry had never been given many opportunities to freely express himself. He grew up in a rural area where the sheep overruled the people and the only extra-circular activity available was playing football at the park with his friends that werenât truly his friends. He was only a mere teenager when he decided that whenever he had kids, he would give them as many opportunities as possible.Â
He tried in school, donât discourage him about that, but it didnât work out as planned. Thatâs how he ended up working within the company he did. He started from the bottom, working 9 to 5 within a cubicle everyday until he had worked up to become chief editor. He had his own office, with his name written on a plaque upon the door and his photos sat upon the desk. It made day to day that little bit more enjoyable.
âFinishing early today, Mr. Styles?â Genevieve asked, watching as he closes his door behind him.Â
âYes, I am.â He smiles politely, âItâs been in the calendar for weeks.âÂ
âIâve noticed.â He knew she hadnât. Genevieve was okay at her job, he supposed. She was an apprentice the company had hired straight out of university and of course he didnât mind that she was still finding her feet, âEnjoy your evening, Mr. Styles.âÂ
âYou too, Genevieve.â He nods his head at the girl and walks towards the exit.Â
At the ripe age of twenty-eight, Harry knew that he still had his entire life ahead of him but at the same time he was pretty content. He had his job, his small town house and more importantly his son, Theo. He hadnât expected his girlfriend of a couple of months to get pregnant but in his mind he knew what had happened and that it was something that the two of them had to take responsibility for, but she didnât think the same thing. Harry had loved her, and he had hoped that she had loved him and their son as much as he did but it just wasnât meant to be. He had suspected that she was going to leave, he just hadnât expected it to be in the middle of the night whilst their son was a month old and still nursing.Â
It was the following morning that Harry knew that he was going try his damned hardest to be the best Father possible for his son, try to give him the world and everything good that came along with it.Â
âHarry!â Mrs. Walters, the woman who lives next door exclaims as she throws the door open, âPlease come in.âÂ
âHi Mrs. Walters.â He smiles, following the elderly woman into the living room, âHas he been good today?âÂ
âWe had a little disagreement at nap time but apart from that heâs been perfect!âÂ
âIâm glad to hear it. Heâs never been the biggest fan of naps.âÂ
Just seeing Theoâs little face light up as he walked into the room was enough reason to keep his heart beating for centuries. Theo was the absolute double of Harry, and he could even see it himself. Even at three years old he had his fatherâs green eyes and curly brown hair and it was another thing that caused his love for his little man to grown everyday.
âDada!â He toddled over to his father, only just starting to feel confident upon his feet, and wrapped his arms around Harryâs legs, his chunky cheeks pressed against his shin.Â
âHi bubba.â He picks his son up and rests him upon his hip, âDid you have a nice day with Mrs. West?âÂ
Theo nods and drops his head down upon Harryâs shoulder with a light sigh of content.
âHeâs been amazing, Harry, donât worry.â The older woman drops her head to Harryâs free shoulder, âIâll see you two tomorrow.âÂ
âSee you tomorrow, Mrs. West.âÂ
Theoâs little hand rests comfortably within Harryâs as they walk through the door of community centre, his little feet tapping upon the wood in his trainers.Â
âHarry! Theo!â You exclaim, walking over to the two of them with a large smile across your face, âIâm so glad you could make it this week!âÂ
âYeah. Sorry about last week, I couldnât get out of work on time and then once I did he wasnât in the best of moods.âÂ
âDonât worry about it! Itâs totally fine, we understand that you canât make every week.âÂ
Harry nods his head.Â
âAnyway.â You have a nice smile and it was probably the first thing that Harry noticed about you when you met, âWeâre just about to get started.âÂ
Harry sits down, crossing his legs as he does so. Theo drops down upon his fatherâs lap straight afterwards, his face pressed into the material of Harryâs crisp white dress shirt. Harryâs eyes bounce to look over the other children, the ones who acted similarly too Theo when they first joined. They all either sat in their parents laps comfortably or on the floor now, not one with a flicker of anxiousness across their features.
Theo and Harry have attended three of these sessions to help with confidence, and Theo had only just started to leave his shell in the last twenty minutes of the last session they went to and now it felt as though Harry had messed everything up again. He felt as though they were back to square one.
Then he feels a hand upon his shoulder.Â
âIts okay.â You smile, squeezing gently, âHeâll be okay, donât worry.âÂ
He will be, Harry knows that.Â
Another week had passed and Harry was yet again sat in a circle in the childrenâs room of the community centre with Theo sat upon his lap. Harry felt a little more at ease this week, since his little boy sat forward with a small, very small smile on his lips as he looked at⊠you? You hadnât been there to greet them like you were last week, and he certainly hadnât had the chance to say hello yet. It had been a warm-ish day today and Harry concluded that was probably why you were wearing a cute yellow sundress with small white flowers on it, something he had never seen you in before. You still wore your smile, Harry had noticed.Â
âToday.â You always overplayed your facial features to interest the children, âWe are all going to write a story together.âÂ
Theoâs little eyes widened in excitement.Â
âYou like that idea, bub?â Harry whispered. Theo nodded.Â
âSo Iâll start.â You touch your chest, âThen weâll pass to Edithâs mummy and then Edith and weâll continue that way around the circle!âÂ
Harry and Theo would be third, which wasnât too bad. He just hoped that Theo would get involved, he loved stories enough to have a mind spiralling with ideas.Â
âOnce upon a time, in a land far, far away there lived a princessâŠâ You start, smiling to the person next within the circle.Â
ââŠin a big castle with a swimming pool!âÂ
âShe has dog!âÂ
ââŠcalled muffin who she loves to play with in theâŠâÂ
âPark!âÂ
âThen.â Harry started, leaning so that he was speaking to Theo as well as the rest of the group, âOne day, something magical appeared in front of herâŠâ
âDinosaur!âÂ
Harry beams and whispers, âWell done Theo!â
The story finishes with the princess riding the dinosaur along a rainbow, courtesy of the little girl called Tara who finishes the circle. Normally the children disperse the last twenty minutes or so to play amongst themselves whilst the adults talk about what type of week theyâve had. They were doing just that, but today, Harryâs heart stopped at the sight of his little boy sat with little Tara drawing at the tiny desk when usually he just does that on his own.Â
Harry had honestly never thought that he would be going to group behavioural therapy for his three year old son, but, he promised he would do anything for his little boy.
âHi everyone.â They were now sat around a table, one fit for adults, whilst a few of your colleagues watched the children, âIâm excited to hear how all your weeks have been!â
Taraâs mum starts, explaining that this week the nursery had phoned up to explain that she hadnât spoken to anyone at lunchtime but there had been the odd time where sheâd had a small conversation with a couple of classmates.Â
Harry listens to a few others. How Ryan had bit a kid at school the other day, how Delilah refused to say anything for a couple of days that week. Harry had never experienced Theo biting or injuring other kids but he had experienced him shutting down and not speaking to anyone.Â
âHarry.â You smile, âHow has little Theo been this week?âÂ
âHeâs, uh, been okay I suppose.â He runs his finger across his bottom lip, âNothing out of the ordinary. Had an odd hour or so yesterday.âÂ
âHas he made any friends at nursery, yet?âÂ
âNo. I donât think so. Iâm trying to get him in everyday but itâs proving to be difficult.âÂ
You smile, âHeâll get there Harry. It might take him a bit longer than normal but he will get there.âÂ
After listening to the other parents, the meeting for that week finishes. Harry waits for Theo to finish his drawing before helping him into his coat. Your words pondered through his mind â he certainly hoped that Theo would get better but it was a walk, not a sprint.Â
âHi Theo.â You beam as you walk towards the two, âCan I see your drawing?âÂ
After a few moments of contemplation, he passes the drawing to you.
âWow! Itâs beautiful! Can you draw me one whilst I talk to your Daddy?âÂ
Theo listens to your request and starts on the drawing straight away, picking up colour after colour whilst Harry looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.Â
âI just wanted to have a quick word, nothing bad, I promise.âÂ
Harry nods.Â
âTheo is making excellent progress in the program and Iâm sure youâve seen the results for yourself but as you know he is going a little slower than the rest of the kids.âÂ
âIf this is because we missed one then itâs completely my faultââ
âItâs not! Donât think that, itâs not!â Youâre quick to say, âI was thinking the other day of ways to help and I remembered that my friend runs a group at the weekend for children that are struggling to cope with the loss of a parent.âÂ
âBut I thought he was too young to be affected by that?âÂ
âI thought so too but I did some more research and even though he was very, very young when his mother left, it could still be affecting him.â You swallow and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, âHe will have noticed that he doesnât have two parents and that could be the stem of all of the problems.âÂ
Of course this had run through Harryâs mind a few time but he always brushed it off because he was so young when it happened. The fact that woman might be the reason his son was so quiet and not himself all of the time caused his stomach to flip. He hadnât seen her since that night but she was still affecting him day upon day and he hated it.Â
âWhen is this group?âÂ
âOh!â You exclaim, happy that he hadnât just shut the idea down, âItâs on Saturday at ten whilst twelve but you can come and go as you please.âÂ
âWill you be there?â Why had he just asked that? He probably sounded like such a weirdo.Â
âI will.â You smiled, âJust for you.âÂ
Harry certainly hadnât expected to spend his Saturday morning sat at upon a bench outside the community centre watching Theo play with other kids. He was surprised how easily Theo had left his shell around all of these kids but he supposed they all had something in common, that they were raised by only one parent.Â
Another thing he hadnât expected was to be sat sharing the said bench with you, but he wasnât complaining.Â
âBlack coffee.â You smile, holding out the cup for him to take.Â
âThank you.âÂ
âItâs no problem.â You take a sip of your own cup of tea, âHe seems to be doing well.âÂ
âIâm really surprised. The last time I saw him gel to someone so quickly was when he met our neighbour, Mrs. West.âÂ
You smile, âItâs good. Youâll be able to figure out which group works the best for you both.âÂ
âWill you be here every week?âÂ
Is he flirting? You certainly werenât complaining, anyone with eyes could see that Harry is a very handsome man but never in a million years did you think that he would be flirting with you. Maybe he wasnât even flirting and you were just letting your imagination run a little too wild.Â
âIââ
âIâm sorry.â Heâs quick to say, âWhat I meant is that heâs comfortable around you, and I would hate for him to loose that sort of comfort.â
âI completely understand.â You nod. So he wasnât flirting with you. There was a part of you that was sort of disappointed and wished that he had been flirting with you, âWell he seems to be enjoying himself here so how about we slowly introduce him to just coming here. Iâll come for the first couple of weeks so that heâs comfortable.âÂ
âThank you. I havenât said that enough but I honestly canât thank you enough for what youâre doing for my son.âÂ
âItâs my job, Harry. I do this for a reason.âÂ
âBut you didnât have to do this. Spend your Saturday morning sat on a bench with me to make sure that Theo is okay. You didnât have to do this.âÂ
âBut I am. Iâm doing it because I care about that little boy and I want him to get better. And youâre certainly not bad company.â
Harry smiles and looks away. It probably makes it more obvious that his cheeks are flushing at her words. You have always made Harry nervous, even from the first meeting when he asked whether you could help his son. Was it wrong? Probably. Did he care? No, as far as he knew this crush was harmless and it wasnât as though it was reciprocated he supposed.Â
âI know Iâm not as exciting at Theo but I do try.âÂ
âI can tell.â You smile, âWas he okay at nursery yesterday?âÂ
âThe same I think. Nursery didnât say anything when I picked him up and they usually do if something happened. Good or bad.âÂ
âThatâs good. Some will just ignore the problem. Iâve helped a few parents who have struggled with that.âÂ
âIâm lucky.â He nodded, âWeâre lucky.âÂ
âHow are you?âÂ
âIâm fine. Theoâs getting better, thatâs the most important thing.âÂ
You sigh, âNot Theo. How are you?âÂ
âIâm getting there. Iâm taking each day as it comes, I suppose.âÂ
âDo you have people that you talk to?â You ask before immediately trying to retract your question, âI understand if you donât want to tell me. I can be nosey sometimes.âÂ
âNo. Itâs fine.â He coughs to clear his voice, his eyes watching as Theo sits in the sand pit with a bucket and spade, âI talk to my mum and sister if thereâs anything really wrong.âÂ
âNobody else?â Youâre daring, and your eyebrow raises in nervousness.Â
âIâm single if thatâs what youâre asking.â He chuckles.Â
Your eyes bug, âWell Iââ
âIts okay, YN.â He laughs now, his dimples deepening, âAre you single?âÂ
âI am.â You smile, âIâm glad you have someone to talk to that isnât your three year old son. Itâs important.âÂ
âI know. I kept a lot of it to myself at the start and just tried to be the best that I could be for Theo but it hit a point where I needed help, and I knew I did.âÂ
âItâs commendable that you did that. Too many single parents try to do it on their own and it just doesnât work. It not only causes them to fizzle out but it causes strain on the kids.âÂ
âHave you got children?â
âNo.â Your lips curl, âI just enjoy working with them â to a degree obviously.âÂ
A chuckle passes. Itâs at this point that Harry realises that this is the first conversation you have had with him that passes the point of being somewhat professional. Youâre dipping your toes in the idea of the conversation being about getting to know each other rather than being about Theo or any information about the group.Â
âI canât imagine.âÂ
âYou never know what the days going to hold when you walk through the door. They say to never work with children and animals.â You laugh, âWhere you do you work?âÂ
âI work at a publishing company. Iâm the chief editor. Itâs not the best but it pays the bills.âÂ
âIt sounds very interesting.âÂ
âIt isnât. The amount of articles about interior design I read on a weekly basis is sort of absurd.âÂ
âInterior design?âÂ
âI work for an interior design magazine. I probably shouldâve explained that first.âÂ
You giggle, âI bet your house is immaculately decorated.âÂ
âTo a degree.â He chuckles, âLiving with a three year old sort of means youâre house always looks like a bomb has hit it.âÂ
âI can imagine.âÂ
âI wouldnât change it for anything. Yeah it is a mess but it isnât too bad and heâs leaning that he wonât get treats if he doesnât clean up after himself.â
âNice. Iâm sure that works a treat.âÂ
âIt does.â He laughs, âLiterally.â
âHeâs a good kid, Harry. You can tell. Heâll be perfectly fine.â
You keep saying that.Â
Harry received a message the following Wednesday around lunch time that he hadnât expected. He was just about to tuck into the salad he had pre-made this morning fort lunch when his phone lit up on the desk. A small message box covers up his wallpaper which was a photo of Theo in the bath, bubbles on his head in a cone shape and upon his chin like a beard.Â
Hi Harry, Its YN. I promise Iâm not weird I just got your number of the system to send this. Iâm just letting you know that tonightâs group is cancelled, Iâm bunged up with a cold and would hate to pass it onto any of the kiddies :) Hope you are well.
Hi YN. Iâm sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better soon. See you next week. H.Â
Harry couldnât hide that he was a little disappointed. He was starting to enjoy going to the centre every week. He could say that it was because his son was slowly coming out of his shell, and that was part of it, but ever since your conversation he had that one weekend he enjoyed the few words you spoke to each other.Â
If he was more confident in the way you felt about him, he probably wouldâve messaged to ask if you needed anything bringing but he thought that it wouldâve been a little bit odd. Hopefully in the future it wouldnât be as odd.Â
\\
âYou canât eat your chips yet, buddy, theyâre too hot.â Harry explains, picking a couple of the chips from Theoâs plate and blowing on them. The young boy sat and watched his father, waiting for his chips before chewing them happily.Â
âOh! Harry!âÂ
Youâre stood with a drink in your hand, jeans and a floral blouse hanging loosely upon your figure. You looked cute and cuddly, something that Harry had missed seeing over the past week or so.Â
âHi YN.â He smiles, wiping his mouth with his napkin momentarily, âHow are you feeling?âÂ
âMuch better, thank you very much.â You smile.Â
âWould you like to sit?â He asks, motioning to the spare seat, âYou donât have to if youâre busy or anything.âÂ
âNo. I would love to. Are you okay with that Theo?âÂ
For the first time since youâve arrived the little boy looks up at his eyes immediately light up at the sight of you stood there.Â
âMiss YN!âÂ
âIâm guessing heâs okay with it.â Harry smiles, watching as you pull out the seat and seat and sit down. âYou werenât in a rush, were you?âÂ
âNo.â You smile, sipping on the hot cocoa you had just bought, âI had just finished for the day actually. Did a bit of shopping and then decided to walk over here.âÂ
âSounds lovely. Anything exciting?âÂ
âIf fruit and veg is exciting, then exciting.âÂ
âHey, take it from me, trying to make fruit and veg exciting for your kids is the most exciting thing about fruit and veg.âÂ
âNot a fan?â You ask, looking at the young boy who had started to munch on his chicken nuggets.Â
âNot really. Can you not tell?âÂ
You laugh, looking at Theoâs plate which just had chips and chicken nuggets on with a blob of ketchup on the side.Â
âHe seems to be enjoying those?âÂ
âOh god yeah.â Harry laughs, âHe can eat for England. Takes after me in that sense.âÂ
âThatâs good. Some parents sometimes come in saying that their children donât eat and itâs worrying them.âÂ
âHe went through a phase when he turned around two and a half of not eating but he rectified that very quickly himself.â
âThatâs good? Have you had work today?âÂ
It was only then that you had noticed his attire. Jean flares and a shirt that said something about eating honey. On anyone else you it wouldâve set warning alarms within your head but he made it look suave and quite attractive.Â
âNo. I have weekends off so I can spend them with Theo. I sometimes do a bit of work from home but not a lot, do you?âÂ
âSometimes. If thereâs an emergency Iâll sometimes have to go in.âÂ
âIs it hard? Do you find working with vulnerable children hard?âÂ
âChallenging, Iâd say. Maybe not hard. Some of the things that have happened to the children to cause them to behave the way they do are hard to listen to. Trying to get them to talk or just explain how they feel is even harder.âÂ
âYou do Godâs work, YN.âÂ
âI wouldnât say that. I hate the though of children suffering, and Iâd like to think I do my best to help with that.âÂ
âYou do. From experience you do.âÂ
âYouâre forever feeding my ego. I kind of like it, keep it coming.âÂ
âEh.â He curves his lips and moves his head from side to side, âYouâre not that bad to look at either.âÂ
âCheeky! But youâre not too bad yourself, Styles.âÂ
âDaddy!â Theo interrupts, âToilet, please.â
âOkay bud.â Harry stands up and so do you, âYou donât have to go, Iâll be back in a minute.â
âNo itâs okay, I probably should leave.â You smile, âI told Norman that Iâd only been ten minutes and that was half an hour ago.â
âNorman?âÂ
âMy dog! God, I probably shouldâve specified that. Normanâs my dog.â
âAh.â Harry laughs, âThat makes more sense. Iâll see you later YN.â
âBye Harry.âÂ
When you got home that night, you see the majority of the time sat staring at your phone whilst Norman stares at you as though youâve gone crazy.
âI should just text him.â You sound crazy talking to your job but it is oddly comforting, âWhatâs the worst that could happen?âÂ
Hi Harry! It was lovely seeing you and Theo today. I hope you had a lovely rest of your day :)
You immediately regretted sending the message. Would he think you were weird? Had you just ruined any chance you had of it going any further? Your stomach twisted and your phone lit up.Â
We did thank you, YN. I hope Norman wasnât too mad that we kept you out longer than expected. H.
You giggled. He remembered.Â
He got over it pretty quickly. Gave him a treat and everything was back to normal.
Thatâs good. Itâs a good thing dogs are forgiving creatures.
Rather I bribed him to forgive me. He can be stubborn when he wants to be.
I think you might be describing my son. He certainly didnât get his stubborn side from me.
Good. I would hate to have to bribe you to speak to me.
Well that depends what you would have bribed me with. But hopefully youâll never be in the bad books.
You seem to have very high expectations of me, Styles. I might just surprise you.
Iâm going to hold you to that. The next time I see you I expect to be surprised.
Are you free any time soon?
Not until next weekend really. I finish work at five-ish everyday.
Is there any chance that youâd maybe want to do something after work? I can hopefully surprise you?
Iâd like that very much. Tuesday okay?
Perfect! See you then, Harry.
Sweet dreams, YN.
Tuesday couldnât come quick enough in your eyes. You were pleasantly surprised that youâd even managed to bag yourself a date with the man, usually youâd shy away from the male species as much as possible. That didnât mean that you didnât spend the entire time messaging Harry the other day with warm cheeks and a fuzzy tummy. The fact that he couldâve thrown everything back into your face being the thing that scared you the most.Â
You had messaged Harry last night that you were going to a restaurant, not a fancy one but one that required a smart/casual dress code. You spent probably a little too long getting ready, curling your hair and applying the make up you wore too perfection, dressing in some high-waisted trousers with a long-sleeved tucked in to reserve the warmth that the British summertime had selfishly taken away.Â
You had hundredâs of thoughts bouncing around in your brain. It wasnât everyday that you bagged a date with the man of your dreams and even if it didnât work out â at least you could say that it had happened. If it didnât work out it was probably a good thing that Theo had started to make the move from your group to your friendâs to avoid uncomfortable confrontation.Â
The reservation at the restaurant was for eight, so you had arranged to meet there for around politely declined. The drive was quick but the wait for Harry seemed to take hours.Â
When he did arrive, your breath caught within your throat. He was wearing simple dress pants with a silk floral shirt tucked in, the first couple of buttons undone. It revealed tattoos that you were shocked to see that he had upon his chest and stomach. It intrigued you to know whether he had more tattoos. A part of really wanted to see them.Â
âHi.â He smiles and wraps his arms around you in a welcoming hug. He smelt really good.Â
âHi.âÂ
âYou look lovely.âÂ
âYou donât look so bad yourself, Styles.âÂ
âShall we go in?â You nodded.Â
The table reserved for the two of you was small but lovely, located in the corner of the restaurant by the floor to ceiling windows. You had been to this Italian plenty of times in the past and it had become one of your favourites. As you sat down, you had ordered a bottle of wine to share between the two of you.Â
âIs that your first surprise?â He asked as the two you tapped your glasses together in cheers, âDrinking on a work night?â
âItâs a special occasion.â You shrug, âYouâll have to figure out yourself whether itâs part of the surprise or not.âÂ
He raised his eyebrow at you before he broke into a smile.Â
âIâm looking forward to it.âÂ
The waiter comes a few ticks after that, asking what we would like. I order a bowl of pasta whilst Harry orders a pizza of some sort.Â
âHow was Theo when you left him today?â You started to tuck into the bread and dips that the waiter had brought as an appetiser.Â
âAbsolutely fine. Iâve never seen someone so exciting to spend time with their grandmother.âÂ
âWeekendâs with my Grandma were the shit!â You exclaim with a smile, âWe used to bake and sheâd cook me all of my favourite dinners.âÂ
âYou were spoilt rotten, to say the least?âÂ
âOf course I was! Thatâs how little Theo is feeling.âÂ
âAre you close to your family?âÂ
âYeah I am. More so my Mum and Grandma. I donât really have the best relationship with my Dad.âÂ
He nods, âMy mum and Dad divorced when I was young so I was brought up my Mum. She remarried when I was nineteen.âÂ
You hummed, âAre you close with your stepfather?â
âI was.â Harry coughed to clear his throat, âHe died in 2017.âÂ
You immediately felt bad.Â
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to pry.âÂ
He stops the sip of his drink quick, âYou havenât, I promised. How are we supposed to get to know each other if you donât ask questions?âÂ
âWe sort dived right into the deep shit straight away.â You laughed, âQuick fire questions: favourite band?âÂ
âI honestly couldnât pick one.âÂ
âWell.â You sighed, âI tried but that answer was boring. Pick one!â
âI donât know.â He shrugs, his smile growing, âI love Fleetwood Mac, The Zombies, The Kinksââ
âBasically anything from the past?âÂ
âPretty much.â He laughed, âI grew up listening to Shania Twain and Joni Mitchell with my mum.âÂ
âI wouldâve loved to have that childhood.â You laughed, âMy mum was all for Bon Jovi, Meatloaf and Prince. Always said âI couldâve been a rock chickâ.âÂ
He laughs and sips his drink.Â
The conversation for the rest of the evening flowed better than you could have expected. You honestly donât think youâve ever been on such a lovely date before in your life, if you could even call it that.Â
You learnt about his childhood living in Holmes Chapel whilst he learnt about yours. You hadnât expected to enjoy his company so much and even as the night came to a close you found yourself not wanting to leave.Â
âI must admit.â He starts as her walks you towards your car, âI was quite disappointed when you said I couldnât pick you up.âÂ
âWhy was that?âÂ
âBecause Iâm not able to drive you home, walk you to your door and hopefully give you a little something to remember me for the night.âÂ
âReally? Who said that I would have let you?âÂ
âYou wouldnât have?âÂ
âI donât know.â You tease, âWhy donât you come over and try?âÂ
The smile on his face as he leaned in is something that will haunt your dreams at night for the better. Your eyes flutter closed and sigh in content as his lips touch yours. It was a little embarrassing, but there had been a few moments late at night where you have wondered what this would feel like. Those were enjoyable dreams but the real this was so much better.Â
No tongue was involved but you already knew that this was something you could become addicted to. The feeling of his large palm against your cheek as his kissed any worry you had away from the night. Your whole body tingled and if you werenât in a public car park, you wouldnât know whether youâd be able to contain yourself.Â
You both pull away breathlessly.Â
âI think you wouldâve let me.âÂ
âI certainly fucking would.â
If Harry had any other option â he wouldâve taken it in a heartbeat.Â
When Harry had woke up this morning, he had expected it to be like his normal Monday morning. Waking up early and making breakfast whilst Theo sleep in. Then heâd wake Theo up to have breakfast and then Harry would dress him for the day.Â
That hadnât happened this morning.Â
When Harry had walked into Theoâs room that morning he found his son, already awake with tears streaming down his face. He tried to comfort his son, and tried to get him to talk but he just didnât stop crying.Â
Thatâs how he ended up stood in the corner of his sonâs room with his phone pressed tightly to his ear.Â
âHarry? Hello?âÂ
âHi.âÂ
âIs everything okay?âÂ
âYeah, well uh, not really.â He scratches the back of his neck, âThereâs something wrong with Theo.âÂ
âIs he okay?âÂ
âNo. I came into his room this morning and heâs non-stop crying and he wonât talk to me.âÂ
âIâm on my way.âÂ
You drove as fast as you could. The sound of Harryâs voice, mixed with his words and the faint sniffles in the background was enough to send your heart spiralling. You used the message that Harry had sent with address to navigate your way towards his house.Â
Doors unlocked.Â
You raced your way up the stairs, taking two at a time and saw Harry waiting at the top of the stairs.Â
âThank you.âÂ
âItâs no problem.â You squeezed his arm in reassurance, âIs he in there?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
Then you saw him. The small boy with the brown curly hair and the green eyes that matched his Fatherâs peering up at you, small sobs leaving his lips.Â
âHi bud.â You smile, âIs it okay if I sit down?âÂ
The small boy nods and you do so, a small sigh escaping your smiling lips.Â
âYour Daddy phoned and said you were feeling a little upset this morning and asked if I could come and talk to you. Is that okay?âÂ
He nods again, sniffling slightly.Â
âIs there anything you want to tell me?âÂ
He shakes his head.Â
âCan you tell me why youâre crying?âÂ
âDream.â His chest heaves up and down.Â
âDid you have a bad dream?â A nod. Okay, you could work with that.Â
You hadnât realised that Harry was stood at the door, leant against the frame with his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb running across his lip. He honestly wouldnât know what he was going to do if you hadnât been so lovely and come to check on Theo at such short notice.Â
âWas your dream about Daddy?â Another nod.Â
It honestly broke Harryâs heart. He had never ever though that something like this was the reason his son had gotten himself into such a state.Â
âHave you been having a lot of these dreams?â Nodding. So much nodding, âAre they scaring you?âÂ
âDaddy hurt.â His voice was so quiet and unsteady.
âDaddy gets hurt?â Your palms start sweating, âIs that why youâre so upset? And you go quiet sometimes? You think Daddyâs going to get hurt?âÂ
âIâm right here Theo.â Harry walks over and drops down to be face to face with his son, âIâm not hurt, and Iâm not going to hurt.âÂ
âYou donât move.â He cries become louder and louder the more they spoke.Â
Harry leans over and pulls his son off the bed, dropping him onto his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around him. You watch as Harry smooths his hand across his sonâs back, hoping that it will calm him down and stop the crying. Harryâs catch yours and your heart physically breaks for him. Youâd never seen anything like this in your four year career.Â
âListen to this, bud.â Harry wipes his tear stained face briefly, âHow about we take today off nursery and work and weâll spend the day together.âÂ
Theo nods and you smile, gently standing up and removing yourself from the situation. For the first time you can look at Harryâs house. It was exactly how you had pictured it to be â immaculately designed with a splash of Theo in ever corner. You drop down upon the sofa with a sigh and use your hand to try to rub the fatigue away from your face. You hadnât had a morning like this in a long time.Â
Twenty minutes or so later, Harry joins you on the sofa with a deep sigh.Â
âHow is he?âÂ
âHeâs asleep right now. I laid with him and he drifted off.âÂ
âThatâs good.âÂ
He reaches over to grab your hand that was comfortably rested upon your thigh, threading his fingers nicely between your own.Â
âIâm sorry for calling so early. I know you were probably busy and this didnât help.âÂ
âItâs okay.â You give his hand another squeeze, âI told you that Iâd help in any way that I could.âÂ
âI know.â He nods, his voice starting to break, âItâs just so fucking hard YN.âÂ
âHey, donât cry.â You move so that you can wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a comforting hug, âI know it is but we can sort this out, I promise.âÂ
âJust knowing that this was because he has been worried about me. What kind of parent does that?âÂ
âI want you to listen to me now, Harry.â You place your hands upon his cheeks, pulling his head up from your shoulder so that heâs looking directly at you, âYou have done nothing wrong. This was completely out of your control.âÂ
He nods and you wipe the tear that had fallen down his cheek away.Â
âIâm going to help you now and weâre going to get Theo better.âÂ
He leans forward and to your surprise places a deep kiss to your lips.Â
âThank you.âÂ
Harry had invited you over as a thank you a couple of days later. You had told him multiple times that he didnât have to thank you for anything and that youâd do anything for him and Theo but he insisted. Theo was still next door with Mrs. West after being picked up from nursery and she made it complete aware that she didnât mind watching him for a few extra hours so that he could do this for his friend.Â
If Harry was honest, he doesnât have many friends. Mrs. West has spoken to him about it on many occasions and he supposed that the old woman was just excited that he might actually have a friend that wasnât herself or his son.Â
You had arrived at Harryâs house to see the dining room set out with plates and cutlery and wine glasses with delicious smell coming from the kitchen. He greeted you with a soft kiss upon the lips and a small hug.Â
âHas Theo been okay?â You ask, leaning against the counter as you watch Harry fry the vegetables for the stir fry.
âHeâs been better. Heâs been talking a little more according to to the teachers.â He starts to plate up the noodles, âFor the first couple of nights he stayed in bed with me, as you suggested but last night he stayed in his own.âÂ
âDid it go okay?â The two of you walk with full plates to the dining room.
âThere were a few tears but he slept through the night.âÂ
You honestly couldnât have been happier for the two of them. You have worked with the two of them for a couple of months and now finding out that things were actually starting to work left you feeling happier than you had ever expected to be.Â
âThatâs really good. Iâm happy for you.âÂ
Before you knew it the time had escaped from the two of you. Somehow, you had made your way to the sofa and now sat with large glasses of red wine in your hands.Â
âAre you sure you donât need to get Theo?âÂ
It was nearing seven, and you started to worry.Â
âIf I go now heâll probably kill me.â He laughs, âMrs. West brings out the sweet treats around this time.âÂ
You giggle and lean forward to capture your lips upon his. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the other resting lightly upon her thigh. In one confident movement, you shift your body so that your knees are either side of his hips. A part of you still couldnât believe that this was happening, not only with anyone but with Harry.Â
This had all happened quicker than you had expected but you werenât complaining.Â
âYN.â He pulls away breathlessly, âHey, are you sure?âÂ
âGod yes.âÂ
âOkay then.âÂ
He skilfully picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you towards his bedroom. You land upon the bed with a small thud that causes you both to giggle. He presses his lips to yours one last time in a breath-taking, heart-stopping kiss.Â
âMove up.â You shuffle your bum up the bed so that your head is rested upon the lush pillows. Harryâs fingers toy with the zipper of your jeans, his eyes looking for any sign of uncomforted on your face, âThis okay?âÂ
You nod quickly, âIt is.âÂ
He sighs shakily, his fingers slipping into the band of your jeans, pulling them down your legs. You lift your hips up to aid him in the movement. At this point you were glad that a day ago you hd decided to have a pamper session and shave your entire body.Â
His lips place small kisses along the inside of your thighs, your body withering under his touch. It had been a long time since someone had touched you in this way, and your senses felt as though they were on override.Â
âHarry.â The small moan escapes your lips as he licks a stripe along your clothed centre.Â
âGod.â He hooks his fingers into the material and pulls them down your legs, âYouâre so fucking wet.âÂ
You hum as his lips wrap around your clit, your chest heaving up and down as he uses his tongue to flick the sensitive nub over and over again. This had all happened so quickly and you felt so overwhelmed that you had no idea if you were going to last very long at all.Â
âFuck.â You moan, âHarry.âÂ
âThatâs it.â He murmurs against your centre, giving your clit a few kitten licks afterwards, âSay my name again.âÂ
âHarry.âÂ
He suckles on your clit so quickly that youâre left breathless, your fingers threading through his curly brown hair. You tug on it causing a groan to escape his lips against you, sending your orgasm rushing in.Â
âMâcoming.â Your chest heaves, âFuck, baby.âÂ
Harry pulls away after coaxing you through your high, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He licks what he can before lifting up so that you can kiss him. He drops down, his head falling into your neck and for the first time you can feel him against your exposed thigh.Â
âDo you want me to help?âÂ
âNo.â He smiles, pushing your hair away from your face, âTonight was a thanks to you. Hopefully there will plenty more opportunities for you to repay me in the future.âÂ
âIâm excited for that.âÂ
âDaddy?â The little voice wakes the two of you up from your slumber, âMiss. YN?âÂ
âHiya buddy.â Harryâs quick to pick the little boy up and drop him in the middle of the two of you, âDid you have a good sleep?âÂ
Theo hums and cuddles into his Dadâs chest, âMorning Miss. YN.âÂ
âMorning Theo.â You smile, âIâve told you before, you can call me just YN.âÂ
You and Harry had started to see each other frequently since the last date and very recently, in the past few days or so youâve both made the jump of having sleepovers. With Theo it made it difficult for Harry to stay over at yours so you stayed over at Harryâs â not that you minded one bit.Â
âOkay, YN.â He smiles, leaning forward to place a kiss to Harryâs dimpled cheek.Â
âWhat do you fancy doing today bud? If you ask nicely YN might be able to stay with us today.âÂ
âReally?â His eyes widen in excitement.Â
âOf course.â You smile and ruffle his hair, âBut itâs your day, what do you want to do?âÂ
âCan we go to the cinema?â You both nod, seeing as though thatâs a very doable request from the little man.Â
âWhat do you want to go see?âÂ
âFrozen 2 please, daddy.âÂ
âOf course.â Harry kisses his cheek and your heart swells at the sight.Â
Theo sat the entire time in the cinema contently chewing on his popcorn as his eyes never left the screen. Harryâs hand was firmly grasped within yours and you both repeatedly picked it up to kiss the back of each otherâs. It was the simple gestures that drew you to Harry in the first place, from that very first day at the centre.Â
âDid you enjoy it?â You both have one of Theoâs hands in yours, swinging him up as you walk along the pavement.Â
âYes Daddy.â He beams.Â
âWhat do you fancy doing now? Fancy a McDonalds?âÂ
âCan I have an ice cream, please?â
âOf course, baby.âÂ
It was rare that you and Harry managed to get a night alone with each other, but this specific Saturday night Anne had offered to take Theo and the two of you werenât complaining. It had been two or so months since your relationship grew from being professional into something more and you were yet to fully consummate your relationship.Â
You did other things, of course, in the dead of night when Theo was fast asleep. You were both just uncomfortable with the idea of having sex and reaching that last level of intimacy whilst he was in the other room.Â
The thought physically made you shudder.Â
âAre you hungry, baby?âÂ
âI could eat.â You respond, sitting across from Harry as he scrolls through his phone whilst leaning upon the kitchen island.Â
âPizza?âÂ
You scoff, âIs that even a question?âÂ
Once the delivery of your pizzaâs arrive, you donât think youâve ever seen someone inhale a pizza as quickly as Harry did. He even ended up eating a slice of your own.Â
Cleaning up was easy and before you knew anything, you were both changing and getting ready for bed. It was at this point you could go through the plan that youâd created a week or so ago when you learnt that this day would be happening.Â
You dressed yourself in delicate white lingerie that would have anyone swooning and dropping to their knees. You tousled your hair, applied some lip balm to your lips and walk out to the bedroom.Â
âFucking hell.â He drops his phone onto the bed beside him, âWhere have you been keeping that?âÂ
âItâs one of the surprises I always ramble on about.âÂ
âTotally worth it.â He throws his hands up and makes grabby movements towards you which you give in to.Â
His arms wrap around you waist and pull you down so you could press your lips to his. There was something different within the air today and you could both feel it.Â
âYou wanna feel me?âÂ
âAlways.âÂ
His fingers reach up to unclasp your bra, dropping the lace material to the floor as you clamber upon his lap. His lips wrap around your pebbled nipples, the feeling of his swirling tongue earning breathy moans to escape your lips.Â
âSensitive?âÂ
âJust finished my period.âÂ
âAh.â You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly.Â
You drop to your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you use your hand to palm him through his boxers. You place two kisses to each of the ferns, another one at the top of his happy trail before you hook your fingers into the material of his briefs, pulling them down as he lifted his hips to help.Â
This wasnât your first rodeo with Harryâs dick, but that didnât mean that you became any less nervous every time you saw it.Â
âAre you just going to stare?âÂ
âIâm contemplating?âÂ
âContemplating what?âÂ
âWhether or not you deserve me to suck your dick. Leave me to it, baby.âÂ
He shuts his mouth the second to place one kitten lip to his base, your eyes watching as his stomach heaves up and down at the feeling. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you start to bob your head up and down, using your spit to ease yourself into it. Harryâs hand reaches out to grip your hair, guiding your head up and down but making sure to not go too far.Â
âYouâre amazing. Fuck, YN baby.âÂ
You use the free hand that wasnât aiding you by jerking the length that you couldnât take to squeeze his thigh, right by his tiger once before allowing your finger to rub over your sensitive nub through your panties, allowing any sort of friction to be released.Â
âGotta stop baby.â He gently pushes you off of him, your mouth releasing him with a pop, âNeed to last for you.âÂ
Once youâre stood up he pulls your panties down your legs, watching as you step out of them. You both switch positions so that youâre laid on top of the plush comforter whilst Harry fumbles through his bedside table, taking a foil packet out.Â
Your eyes never leave him as he gives himself a few tugs before rolling the condom on, giving you a once over before bending down.Â
âAre you sure you want to do this?â He questions once and you nod, muttering confirmation as he moves to hover above you.Â
You feel a little discomfort at first, probably due to how long it had been since you last had sex.Â
âMove, Harry.âÂ
âMâkay.âÂ
His lips are on yours again as he starts to move his hips, finding his rhythm as he thrusts in and out of you. You whine into his mouth whilst he groans into yours, the feeling becoming all too unbearable for the two of you.Â
âFeel so good, H. So big, so full.âÂ
The chuffed face he pulled as he continued to thrust his hips to yours, his lips wrapping around your nipple briefly was enough for you to fall for him again.Â
âMâgonna come, baby.âÂ
âI know, H, me too.âÂ
He slipped his hand down between you both to use his fingers to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you over the edge. A long moan of his name leaves your lips, your back arches and your eyes start to water.Â
âThatâs it. Fuck! Squeezinâ me so tight.âÂ
He moans as he comes, spilling into the condom whilst his movements halt inside of you.Â
He head drops forward upon your shoulder, the two of you masking in the overwhelming thing your had just experienced.Â
âThereâs no one else I ever want to do that with.âÂ
âLooks like youâre stuck with me, then.âÂ
âYN.â Theo catches your attention as you wash both of your hands after the painting session you had both just had, âAre you my new Mummy?âÂ
Your movements halt as you look down at the little boy, his features becoming more and more like Harryâs everyday.Â
You look up to Harry whoâs stood drying his hand a couple of metres away, a goofy smile present on his lips as he nods at you.Â
âIf you want me to be Theo, but are you sure?âÂ
âI love you, YN.âÂ
âI love you too, now go dry your hands.âÂ
Harry passes him the towel to dry his hands which he does with little no disagreement.Â
âAre you going to go turn the TV on whilst Daddy talks to Mummy?âÂ
The words felt odd leaving his lips, but a good kind of odd. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and bounds towards the living room.Â
You wrap your arms around Harry and sigh contently into his chest.Â
âI canât believe he just said that.âÂ
âI can. Thereâs no one else Iâd want to be his mother.âÂ
You stand on your tip toes to kiss his lips once.Â
âI love you, Harry.âÂ
âI love you too.âÂ
#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#single dad!harry#therapist!yn#harry styles writing
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Epiphany - Part One
Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader
Chapter Rating: PG-13Â
Word Count: 2,204
Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery, mention death of a family member.Â
Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Lukeâs sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected. Â
A/N:Â I finally watched the Haunting of Hill House a while back. I found Luke to be very interesting. This is my take on how Luke would go on with life after Nellâs death and how his continued path to remain sober would look like.
I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.
Updated: Cleaned up for grammar and punctuation errors.
An epiphany is when a sudden and intuitive perception of insight into reality. It can provide a great moment of revelation and present itself as symbolic insight. Some people experience it while others often search for it.
Life was not easy for Luke Crain or his siblings. After the recent events of Hill House, Luke was scared of a life without his twin sister, Nell. Despite Luke being ninety seconds older, he always felt that Nell was his big sister. She was his protector. The only person to believe in him when others constantly sowed doubt. Unfortunately, Hill House ended up taking Nell in the end, along with his father Hugh. Luke was scared. More scared than he had ever been now that Nell was gone.
However, Luke was determined to get clean. To remain clean. He had to do it, not only for Nell but for himself. Both Steve and Theo pitched in to help pay for a good rehab center for Luke to stay. At first, Luke told them, no, but it was Theo who adamantly expressed her desire to support him.
âLuke, you have made it to 90-days. I can tell you want to remain clean. We all see it. Nell still believes in you and so do we. I want to be supportive of you because youâre my little brother and I love you,â said Theo.
With the support and help of his siblings, Luke decided to stay in Massachusetts for treatment. He took up residence with Shirley in the guest house since Theo decided to move out to live on her own. Despite her worries, Shirley believed in her little brother and his determination to remain clean. One could say it was her way to make amends for the guilt she held by not allowing Luke to attend Nellâs wedding.
It was actually Shirleyâs husband Kevin, who recommended Banyan Treatment Center in Wilmington, Massachusetts. âOne of my sisters went there for her alcohol addiction. She responded well to the program and has continued to stay sober for two-years. Banyan has a good family counseling program, along with outpatient therapy. Pretty much will have everything you need to continue your path for sobriety,â said Kevin one night after dinner.
It did not take long for Steve and Theo to be on board with Luke deciding on Banyan. Both liked what they read of the place. The treatment center was not uber fancy, like the one Shirley paid for all those years ago but also was a tad upscale compared to the rehab center in Los Angeles Luke recently attended.
The therapists and case managers at Banyan were nice and friendly. Rob, Lukeâs primary therapist, helped ease him into a routine. Even though Luke was now over 90 days sober, Rob recommended intensive outpatient therapy every day for an hour session. Luke admitted to Rob, along with his siblings, that he was worried about relapsing due to Nell and Hughâs deaths. He did not want to fall back into old and dangerous habits.
For 30 days, Luke was committed to his intensive outpatient therapy. Talking over his childhood trauma at Hill House and the recent events helped, not only explain his phobias but also tackle his post-traumatic stress. Hill House had a long-lasting effect that damaged his entire family. So much so, that all he wanted to be was numb. To not have to deal with the images in his mind or how the loss of his mother disturbed him.
When Luke âgraduatedâ from intensive outpatient therapy to regular outpatient therapy, Rob recommended a sponsor for him. The Centerâs alumni recovery program allowed for past patients who have succeeded in their program to help mentor those currently in the early stages of detox, treatment, and recovery. Having a strong and influential network of sober peers can make all of the difference between an addict relapsing or staying strong through hard times.
That is how you came into Luke Crainâs life. Rob recommended you to Luke as a sponsor. You had just celebrated your third anniversary of recovery. It was not that you had a bad childhood as the reason you turned to drugs. You were not abused, both of your parents were still alive, nor had you experienced any other forms of childhood trauma. Similar to Luke, heroin was your choice of escapism; the way to ease the feeling of pain and suffering. Not your own, but other peoplesâ.
That was the downside of being an empath.
Of course, no one believed you about being an empath. Your mother had always referred to you as an overly sensitive child and that stress was not something you handled very well. When having to deal with the ability to sense what people are feeling, whether the emotions are happy, sad, scared, stressed, disturbed, or angry, can be a lot for a person to handle. There came a time when taking on the pain of others became too much. You no longer wanted that burden. You no longer wanted to feel anything.
It did not matter how many rehab facilities your parents sent you to or how many times they pleaded; you did not care. For once, you put yourself first. Heroin helped you stop feeling. Helped you feel numb and content. You were happy. Of course, when the high wore off, as it always does, you were back to reality. You hated reality.
The last hit you had made you end up in the hospital. The doctor explained how you overdosed but were able to resuscitate you in time. That was when you finally realized you needed to change. Needed to get clean once and for all. You knew it would take time and patience. That you would not magically become clean and sober overnight. It was a process. Setbacks were a possibility. However, there was always a little voice in the back of your head that helped pull you through the dark times, to motivate you to keep going.
Now here you were about to meet the new mentee that Rob assigned you to. He only gave a little backstory about Luke, but not many other details. You ended up texting Luke asking him to meet you on Sunday at your favorite coffee shop, the As Good As It Gets Café. He promptly replied that he would see you there around noon.
 When Sunday finally rolled around, you headed to the café and waited. It was a quarter past twelve and Luke still had not shown up. You were starting to get nervous and wondering if he would ever appear. You were on the verge of texting him when the bell on the entry door chimed, indicating that someone was entering the café. You looked up and saw a very tall, scruffy, and attractive looking man standing by the door. The way he was looking around with a lost kind of look helped pinpoint that this was Luke. You got up from your booth and walked over to him.
âLuke?â you politely asked.
âYes,â he said.
You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake, which he took. You immediately became overwhelmed with the emotions that permeated this man. There was a lot of pain and loss underneath. But there was also a sense of hope and happiness that felt nice.
âAre you okay?â Luke asked wondering why all of a sudden you had a weird look on your face.
âHmm? Iâm sorry. Iâm fine. I didnât mean toâŠdaze off for a second,â you laughed and pointed over to the booth you previously occupied. You walked over with Luke following.
âIâm sorry that Iâm late. I was finishing up some homework and didnât track the time properly,â Luke shared.
âOh, where do you go to school?â
âUhâŠI take a creative writing course at Bunker Hill Community College,â he replied.
âNice. How are you liking it so far?â you asked him.
Before Luke could respond, one of the waitresses came over asking if Luke wanted anything to drink. Indicating that he just wanted coffee, the two of you were soon left alone.
âI like it. The instructor is really nice. It is the only course I am taking, so it doesnât take up too much of my time. My older brother, Steve, actually encouraged me to enroll after I shared some of my writing with him. Heâs a writer himself. I donât know if you ever heard of him, Steven Crain? He has written a lot of books, mostly ghost stories. His most famous one is, âThe Haunting of Hill Houseâ. Have you read that book?â
âI have not. I tend to stay away from horror genres,â you told Luke.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Luke was adverting his gaze to anywhere but you. It was easy to tell that he was nervous and unsure of himself.
âLuke,â you spoke up to get his attention and said, âYou donât have to be anxious or feel uneasy. Getting here, to this step, is a big freaking deal. I get it, trust me. I absolutely get it. I never thought Iâd be here. To be completely frank, I always pictured myself dead somewhere in the streets. Iâm sure you pictured the same for yourself. But it didnât. Youâre here today because you wanted more for yourself. That is something to be proud of.â
Letting out a sigh, Luke sat back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes he did not feel proud. He missed Nell. He missed her all of the time. She always believed in him no matter how many times he broke her heart. Nell always forgave him. She was always there when he needed someone to bail him out of trouble.
âYou okay, Luke? If you would rather do this another time, that is okay. We can reschedule,â you offered. You could sense a feeling of grief underneath the surface of the man sitting before you.
âNo. No, Iâm sorry. IâŠuhâŠI was thinking about Nellie. My twin sister. SheâŠshe died recently. Well, not recent, two months ago. So, itâs stillâŠveryâŠitâs still a lot to handle.â
âIâm sorry,â you told him earnestly. âWhat was it like having a twin? I donât have any siblings, so I always like to hear other peopleâs sibling stories.â
âHaving siblings has its pros and cons,â Luke laughed, but continued, âThey can be much at times, but Iâm glad to have them. Especially now that Nellie is gone. They have been incredibly supportive, which makes all the difference in the world.â
âI really appreciate you sharing this with me, Luke. I know it canât be easy. I am a stranger after all. Youâre actually my second mentee from the alumni recovery program. My previous one âŠwell her story didnât have a happy ending,â you shared with Luke.
He could relate. When he left the clinic in Los Angeles to find Joey and bring her back to get her clean again. She was nine-months clean at the time but ended up using while being back on the streets. Luke would be lying to himself if he did not say he was rather disappointed in Joey. To him, Joey was someone who he could look up to while trying to get clean. He should have known something was off with her during what would be their last night at the clinic. Joey reminded him of Nell, so he could not stand by and do nothing. Joey helped him during his first week at the clinic. So, Luke felt that he owed it to her to return the favor.
Unfortunately, Joey did not want his help in the end. To this day, Luke still does not know what really happened to her after she swiped the drugs off him and headed towards that alley. But deep inside, Luke knew she did not make it. That her body would either be discovered or continue to rot in that alley. Theo would tell him that Joey was not his responsibility. That he had to put himself first when it came to recovery.
Luke pushed his coffee cup to the side and leaned on the table. You were so focused on your own coffee cup that you did not notice him staring at you intently. He was taking you in and assessing you. So far, he could admit that he found you attractive. You had a nice built. Your clothing was not too flashy. He could tell that you were the type to choose comfortable clothing over fashionable attire. However, it was your eyes that stood out. There was a softness and warmness to them that he found quite soothing. There were no ulterior motives behind them or any sense of malice. Luke could see that your intentions with him were good and that you really wanted to help him in his recovery by being a supportive mentor.
âHey,â he said to get your attention. âI promised that Iâll come to talk to you if I ever feel like I mightâŠ. Or if I just feel like I need someone to talk to.â
âI appreciate that, Luke,â you told him sincerely.
#luke crain#luke crain x female reader#luke crain x reader#the haunting of hill house#oliver jackson cohen
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Raised Jewish
Bucky Barnes Gen, 2709 words, rated M for Hydra shit
Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame
Bucky's therapy session with Dr Raynor takes a turn for the worse when Raynor starts asking him about his identity.
TW: queer used as a slur, mention of Bucky's 1945 "death", Raynor being the worst therapist
Read on AO3
Part 5 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series
--------------
Dr Raynor isnât nice.
Sheâs not kind, or sweet. She doesnât speak the way Sam does when heâs trying to figure out if Buckyâs okay. Sheâs harsher, more commanding. She seems more used to orders than to niceties, and so is he.
Yet, he canât stand it.
He canât stand her. He canât stand the way she looks at him, with her notebook and her pencil clicking. He canât stand her questions, and the fact she knows everything heâs talking about. She has access to all his files, the Hydra ones, the Army ones, everything. She knows everything about him.
Why is she asking all these questions? Why is she even pretending to give a fuck? Sheâs here for a paycheck, and heâs here because he has to be. He suffers through this shit because he doesnât want to go back to prison.
He spent one month in the Raft after Starkâs funeral. They put him in custody the day after Steve left, and he was there until his trial. It was hell. Claustrophobic and silent and⊠he has to breathe in deeply whenever he thinks about the absolute despair of that month.
The whole prison smelled like seawater and cleaning products, there was a heavy, unmistakably nefarious bracelet around his left wrist, and the cell was too small. Way too small.
Bucky closes his eyes and inhales deeply, trying to chase the phantom of the Raftâs smell from his nostrils. He gets drying flowers and washed out perfume instead, coming from the vase on the table by Dr Raynorâs chair and from the woman herself. Itâs not unpleasant, as far as smells go.
Heâs stopped paying attention for a moment, and when his eyes refocus, sheâs staring at him with that pinched look that says sheâs expecting him to explain what he was thinking about, what pulled him from the session and made him lose focus. She hates when heâs not focused.
He sets his jaw and shifts his fingers in his gloves, hearing leather creak over his left knuckles, and stares right back at her, silent. He doesnât like talking to her about the things in his head. Heâs fought for them too long and too hard to give them to the first person heâs told to give them to.
Sheâs the closest to a handler heâs had since Colonel Helmut Zemo in Berlin. Or, as he introduced himself back then, Doctor Theo Broussard. What is it with Bucky and shrinks?
âI see our usual conversation isnât enough to keep your attention, James,â she says. It feels like a reprimand. She says âJamesâ the way handlers said âSoldierâ. Like itâs a threat.
He stays stubbornly silent. Heâs always been the stubborn kind. Hard to get through, hard to break. Much stronger people than Dr Christina Raynor have attempted to break their way into his mind. They had to torture him to do so.
âLetâs change subjects then,â she nods, and pulls her notebook out. Bucky wants to scream. Itâs not red, but it feels red.
âI think itâs time we dive deeper into your identity.â
Alarm bells go off in his mind and he freezes. Your identity . What is she referring to? What does she know? There are things that Bucky prays arenât in the files. Things he never wants anyone to ever find out, especially her. Old instinctual fears of teenagehood suddenly rise and the leather creaks harder, the sound mixing with the wiring noises of the arm. Itâs a quiet threat wrapped in a sound, like a wolfâs warning growl.
âPlease remember to control yourself, James.â
Sheâs so very good at reminding him heâs only free because she wants him to be. The second he shows any sort of aggression, heâll be put back in that tiny cell, with that bracelet and wonât see the sun for the rest of his overly long life. He knows it. He can feel it.
His obedience is part of the deal he made with the government. He has to comply with their demands. And that includes humoring Dr Raynor.
âWhat do you want to dive into?â He asks, letting his irritation obviously show. She canât take that from him. He will comply, but fuck them if they believe heâll do it without attitude.
If she starts asking about his relationships and Steve, he doesnât know what heâll do. He canât escape. Heâs trapped in this room, with this woman, until she decides that their session is over. This is the price of his freedom.
He canât tell her, or anyone, about Steve. He canât do that to him, to his name, to his legacy. He just canât stain him this way. Itâs the kind of secret that has to die with him. Captain America canât be a queer.
He forces himself to stay still, to not let nervous motions betray his emotional state, and he just waits to see what Dr Raynor knows. The other shoe will drop. Heâs just trying to prepare for it.
She drums her pencil against the side of the horrible notebook and exhales through her nose, obviously irritated by his attitude. He just stares back at her.
âIâve read your files, James,â Dr Raynor starts, the way she does so often. âAnd youâve mentioned the word shul some time ago. Iâm guessing you did not use it to mean school. You donât have German ancestry.â
Bucky relaxes a little at that. Alright, itâs not about Steve. He silently thanks anyone who might be listening.
âMy mother spoke a little German,â he replies conversationally. From what he remembers, it was only bits and pieces, picked up from growing up in a large city. It was probably mostly Yiddish.
âYou were raised Jewish.â
Bucky canât help the full body shift at that. He bristles. It feels like an attack, like an accusation. It feels ugly and menacing coming from that woman who knows too much. It feels disgusting in her mouth.
What does she want him to answer to that? What does she want from him?
He knows heâs not much of a Jew anymore. He knows what heâs done is too much, too ugly, too against everything he was ever taught. He was taught to save lives even if it breaks religious rules, to take care of people, to be kind and helpful and make sure to do good in the world and all heâll ever be remembered for is ugly disgusting acts of horror.
He knows all of what he was raised to be is gone. Heâs pretty sure it was gone the instant his hand slid on the train railing and he felt himself pulled down by gravity.
That moment where he saw the horror and anguish written all over Steveâs beautiful face. That moment where he knew heâd never see his mother again. His sisters. That moment he screamed in fear but tried to drink in Steveâs face for the last time. As if it could make it less terrifying and painful and lonely.
There was too much time during the fall. Too much time for him to think and feel. Iâm going to die alone. Heâd wanted to die old with his loved ones or the Chevra Kadisha with him. No oneâs supposed to die alone.
The pain had been blinding. Some nights, he can hear his own wails again. Life and death have that in common. The screams.
âJames.â Dr Raynorâs voice snaps him back to the present and she still looks pissed at him.
Bucky exhales and his breath is shaky. Panic curls into his bones. He can feel something inside of him tremble and he looks at the window. He could jump through it. Escape it that way. There are no bars on the window, itâs just glass, and itâs only two levels high. Itâs doable, easy even. It wonât hurt that badly. He inhales, deep. Ayo taught him that one. Breathing. Focus on your body rather than on the storm in your mind, White Wolf. Â
He focuses on his body, but mostly on Ayo. The memory of her is strong and firm in his mind, in the same way she talks and walks. Ayoâs eyes always have weight. The kind of weight - smothering or comforting - depend on how he behaves. Heâs trying to be good. Heâs trying to be good for Wakanda, for Ayo, and for Princess Shuri and for King TâChalla.
Dr Raynor should be the one helping him, not the memory of Ayo.
He calms down, eventually, and sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a second. Thereâs a clock ticking loudly. Itâs a wonderful sort of noise for him in this moment. Itâs rhythmic and predictable.
âI was,â Bucky replies to Raynorâs earlier comment. He was raised Jewish.
In all truth, he was born Jewish more than he was raised Jewish. At least thatâs what his father would say. That he was born into a legacy, born into a community. Born to sing songs in age-old tongues. Born with knowledge and strength in his soul.
He hasnât thought about those words in years.
âYou donât talk about it.â
Why would he? Thereâs nothing to say. Words and experiences that heâs half-forgotten over the time, that he doesnât have anyone to share with anymore. Community and family were such important parts of every ritual, and now heâs alone. Completely and utterly alone.
âThereâs nothing to say,â he says out loud.
Raynor crosses her legs and leans back in her seat, watching him. âI would expect thereâs a lot. You worked for an organisation that was born from Hitlerâs government. You spent seventy years furthering nazi ideology and agenda.â
Bucky wants to scream. Itâs salt in an open wound. Itâs violent. He closes his eyes and tries to keep his cool. He canât lose it here. He has work to do still, amends to make still, in the free world, and he is so desperate to stay out of prison.
âI know,â he replies. His voice is so tight it might break any second.
He knows. Heâs very intimately aware of what he did, what it meant, who he was for seventy godforsaken years. Heâs aware that it means he canât possibly claim that part of his life back. He canât be a Jew anymore. Not after being a Nazi agent for so long.
Even if he wasnât actually one, even if he had no choice. He killed people and said âHail Hydraâ and made the world a worse place every day of his existence. His actions are why fascism has such a prominent place in todayâs political landscape. Heâs responsible for it, for putting people in power, for killing good people. Itâs on him. It isnât his fault. Itâs still on him.
âI donât want to talk about it,â he tells Dr Raynor, and now his voice is quiet. âNot to you. Not to anyone. Ever.â
How can this part of his life possibly be of interest to the government? Do they think his jewish upbringing means heâs less likely to go back to Hydra and their neo-nazi friends? Do they see him reclaiming that part of his identity one more reason to keep him free? Is it a ploy? Is this going to be used against him, again? Canât he have one thing in his life that isnât used by someone else for their gain?
âIt could be a way for you to form connections.â As if she gives a flying fuck if he has friends and family. As long as he doesnât start killing people, comes to his appointments and does whatever the government tells him like a good fucking dog, he can pretty much go fuck himself.
He doesnât know if heâs ever felt this angry with her before.
How dare she touch this part of his life? How dare she prod him about it, let him know she knows? How dare she take that one thing that no one has been able to touch before?
Even Hydra didnât know.
They never asked, his dog tags had P on them, and there are a lot of other Americans that were circumcised. They didnât know.
But she does. The US government does. And he canât have it be his secret anymore.
âStop,â he asks, louder than he expected. âStop, I said no.â
As if that has ever stopped anyone. As if those words have ever brought him anything but renewed suffering.
He doesnât see her anymore. His eyes are open but he canât see anything, and heâs panicking and he wants to run so far away. He wants to leave Brooklyn, and leave the US, and disappear and never come back. Fuck his pardon, fuck Sam, fuck everything and everyone, and he can go back to living in Romania and having no name and no handlers and no one.
He stands up suddenly and she flinches. Sheâs scared of him. Of course she is.
âThe sessionâs not over,â Raynor tells him quietly, calmly, despite her earlier flinch. âSit back down.â
âNo,â he bites back.
Heâs trapped, and he canât actually leave because theyâll put him in prison for it, and he canât do anything but stand there and shake with barely controlled emotion and try to wait it out. But he doesnât have to take her orders, and he doesnât have to be happy about it, all he has to do is be here and answer with more than a grunt.
He can say no. She canât make him sit down. Sheâs not strong enough. Physically, anyway.
It takes on average three expertly-trained soldiers to take him down, and thatâs when heâs half-starved and in pain. Heâs been eating well, heâs clear of any sedative, and heâs not in physical pain. There is no way she can take him down, unless she has a gun. But in this room, if she makes a move for a gun; heâll snap her wrist before she manages to touch it. She canât do shit.
âAlright then,â she nods.
He narrows his eyes. She should be mad at him.
She looks down at her notebook and back at him. He stares at her, glares at her, trying to convey that if she starts writing in that fucking book, shit is going to happen. So she doesnât.
âWhy is this upsetting to you?â She asks him, back to her bullshit questions, and it makes Bucky want to punch something, anything. But he canât.
Everything he has is devoted to controlling himself. His gloves creak again, with the exertion of containing his fists. The prosthetic is loud in the silence, threatening. At least itâs loud to him.
âI said no.â
âSo itâs all off limits?â
He nods. âYes.â
Boundaries, thatâs what theyâre called. And that part of his identity is behind the line. He thought he was ready to talk about everything thatâs in the files, but he was wrong. Not that. Never that.
Dr Raynor sighs heavily, looking away from him. He can tell sheâs only pretending, trying to make him feel a little more at ease.
âI need to know about these things, James.â
He huffs. âIâm doing the work you want me to do. I have a quiet life.â
âYouâve told me about the shul already,â Dr Raynor points out.
âYeah. I did.â And it was a mistake.
He just wants to be left alone. He wants to do his job and be left alone. And she doesnât get that. She scoffs when he tells her he wants peace and serenity, she needles him about the things heâs not ready to say. Heâs pretty sure sheâs not a good therapist, and he literally doesnât have any other experience.
Dr Raynor sighs heavily again, parading her irritation out to him. He doesnât move.
âWell. We wonât get anywhere today. Youâve won. The sessionâs over, you can go home.â
Youâve won. He tastes something sour.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods at her. Thereâs no use in dignifying her with much of anything. He mumbles âgoodbyeâ because he was raised right by his ma and calls it a fucking day.
Heâs pretty sure he finishes his pack of cigarettes by the time he gets home.
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Matchup for @bigwintter
bigwintter , dear, tumbrl ate your ask away and I can't seem to be able to tag you for whatever reason. I hope you'll be able to see this nonetheless!
I match you up with... William!
You two are the embodiment of the dark academia aesthetic tbhâš
During your first encounter, you mostly keep to yourself, but Will can tell that you two are, in a way, similar to each other. It all starts with casual and sporadic encounters where the general ambiance is âOh God, Iâm talking to THE William Shakespeareâ, but all that quickly dissolves through time. The writer instantly takes a liking to you, a normal reaction to your genuine love for literature, but the more he talks to you, the more he realizes thereâs something more to it.
Your aura kinda works like a magnet. Itâs in your little gestures, the way you carry yourself, completely at ease despite a 200 years-wide gap between your time and your new surroundings. Most of all, heâs genuinely amazed each time you give him deep and psychological insight about a recently published novel or sometimes even a piece he has written himself. Sometimes you stumble a bit and donât exactly know how to convey your thoughts in a precise way, but this makes him all the more curious(he finds it very cute, actually). He truly wonders how come youâre able to give a fascinatingly knowledgeable answer to whatever topic the two of you are discussing, and this ignites an always increasingly burning fire deep inside of him.
He tries (unless SOMEONE cough Theo cough forcefully kicks him out) to visit the mansion more often, other times he invites you over to his residence to have a nice chat over some tea. If you feel like it, he even plans some rendezvous in the city to show you around. Itâs very nice of him and he acts like a total gentleman! But... some problems may arise when he starts showing his overly possessive side.
Since you know your fair share of information when it comes to psychology and all that may come in handy to diagnose someone with being a yandere (and whatever type of mental illness Shakespeare has), you notice the signs early on, so at least youâre not completely caught off guard. As to how to act next... well, thatâs pretty much up to you. You can ask Comte for protection for the rest of the month and then go back home, or you can try and talk it out with him if you prefer.
Since this is a matchup, letâs pretend you chose to stay in the past and confront him about it. You go to his house and heâs acting like usual, although thereâs a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. When you finally bring up his weird behaviors a switch in his mind flips the other way. Itâs a really intense moment because as heâs explaining all the reasons why he deemed it necessary to âprotectâ you from others, he suddenly realizes that at the root of the whole problem thereâs only his genuine affection towards you. But would he act the same way with Vincent? No, of course not. Then, there must be something else to his feelings, right? And the word he had written so many times, the main theme of most of his stories, comes crashing down on him. Love.
He doesnât outright say it, but itâs subtle and you already know about it. Once more, you can decide whether to correspond to his feelings right away or wait a little longer, just know that youâll be in for a lot of therapy sessions. This man needs three things: affection, a LOT of reassurance, and someone to show him how healthy relationships work. You can provide him with all three, and though he might reject the idea of change (perhaps even in a violent manner), with time and care heâll come to understand where the boundaries of a relationship lie. Surely, there will be times in which he falls prey to his darkest thoughts, but the progress is admirable.
His recovery aside, heâs truly one of the kindest lovers out there, getting slightly rough only during horny times (he wouldnât be able to withstand the guilt of having hurt you), and he never misses out on important dates and small details. There is a lot of unspoken understanding between you two, and with just a glance, you can convey everything that words wouldnât suffice to describe. Regardless, he still loves composing little poems on the spot just for you (he later writes them down in a thick book that he gifts you for your birthday), pressing a soft kiss to your lips when heâs done reciting his small part.
As a couple, you pretty much have all the freedom in the world. Living in a house far from prying eyes and unwelcome visitors, you can enjoy your much-beloved solitude from the rest of the world. Even in the same house, he will eventually come to respect your wish for independence and alone-time. Though there is a lot of work behind it, you and William finally reach an equilibrium that few couples would be able to maintain for long.
Second choice: Dazai
Despite being quite the trickster, an unprovoked Dazai is a person that enjoys quiet spaces and his fair share of alone time. You two could definitely get along pretty well, but getting past the acquaintances-who-have-some-idle-chat-every-now and then phase? That could be slightly harder.
Everyone has their bad days, and depending on the person, some may want to let the whole world know about their feelings, whether others prefer keeping everything inside. Well, Dazai is definitely the second case. Just as usual, he puts on his happy mask and clown nose in the poor attempt of shifting his focus on his surroundings, but ever so often his facade slips off completely. Be it a glance, an unhappy comment or the sudden quietness, you pick up on it quite easily.
There are many strong personalities that leave their lasting impressions in the mansion. For each you could find at least 10 adjectives to describe them without you even being close, but what about Dazai? At first glance, he seems like one of the most dual characters in the vampiric group; one side of him is warm and caring, completely in the norm, but most things he says leave a certain bitter aftertaste. One could describe him as a breeze, but you had noticed that this warm spring breeze could turn into a chilly autumn one in the blink of an eye.
Heâs seemingly a superficial man, but many little details convince you otherwise. Spending a whole month in the past with no one to talk to was out of the question, and mystery man here is the tragic hero that had piqued your curiosity the most so... why not give it a try? You would have to approach him first (he reaches out to people mainly when he sees they're struggling with their emotions), and with the right words here and there his fake smile will crumble away. (you don't necessarily need to be an expert speaker, he's a smart one and will understand what you mean)
Of course, he won't be giving in too easily, but he's quick to notice your genuine interest and curiosity towards him. You'll be going back in a month, so even if he let you see a snippet of who he truly was... it wouldn't be such a bad thing, right? Unfortunately for him, all the romance he has ever experienced in his life was tied to his and his partner's mental health, so with you there to help him out with his emotional state, he's quick to fall for you. (these aren't really spoilers,, its just facts about irl dazai but idk how much they decided to keep in his route tbh, I've only read a general summary)
On the other hand, it may take you some time to realize your feelings, and sometimes you wonder whether your initial reason to get close to him was just your love for psychology. With time, that will all become a secondary matter, for thus you'll start seeing him as a true friend, and perhaps something more.
Oftentimes you hang out in his room and have long discussions while sharing some tea and sweets together. Topics may vary from analysis of fictional characters to more philosophical matter, and a couple dumb jokes here and there: other times the room falls in the most comfortable of silences, the atmosphere warm and relaxed.
Dazai definitely doesn't mind your goofy side, he actually enjoys it quite a lot. You, him, and Arthur could team up and become the most annoying trio of the mansion, much to Isaac's dismay. It's very clear to the Englishman though, that you two have something going on, although you don't seem to be aware of it. He will start teasing you and dropping heavy hints until Dazai eventually confronts him about it.Â
When it dawns on you, it doesn't take long before you and Dazai confess to each other and become a couple. If you're both mutually interested then why wait? Your straightforward nature plays a big part in this, despite your communication skills. Dazai secretly admires this aspect of yours, and if you question him about it, he will admit it without embarrassment and the fondest of looks.
As partners, you have a very mature relationship, and neither of you has a problem with meeting the other's needs. The Japanese writer will always respect your wishes and opinions, but every now and then, mostly at nighttime, he will crave your touch and comfort. Old habits die hard, and it's not easy to completely let go of one's past, that is why he seeks your warmth. Offer him your lap, pepper his face with delicate kisses, tenderly stroke his hair; whatever you have to offer will be more than enough for him. These are very intimate and romantic moments between the two of you, in which your bond gets stronger and stronger, although through quiet reassurance and support.
He doesn't necessarily mind PDA, but he'd rather you keep your most explicit gestures to the privacy of your rooms. Nevertheless is a man of great calm and patience, and he's a great actor, too; don't be too surprised if he decides to tease you in public. Generally speaking though, he'll stick to basic stuff like hand-holding and such.
You have dates in the most random of places! The termae, the gazebo, on the riverbank or in some obscure neighborhood of the city. He loves strolling around with you, and he'll get so lost in the feeling of your hand in his that once he snaps out of it he doesn't realize where your feet have taken you.
Another activity that you two could end up doing together is drinking. He takes you to his favorite bar, where he orders his favorite drink, cigarette in hand (he smokes only if you're okay with it) while looking impossibly hot. You can order yourself a beer and then you can have whatever discussion you feel like having. He is not one to judge, and will happily comply and talk about all topics. Whether it's a book you've read or something that happened to someone in the mansion, he will quietly listen to you as he sips on his whiskey or brandy or whatever, adding a thoughtful comment here and there.
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self para â falling again
trigger warnings to be aware of before reading on: mentions of death, cancer/illness, anxiety, prostitution
the deferral form had been sitting open on theoâs laptop for days. heâd started filling it out on the off chance that heâd decide to stay in lake wisteria until the new year. he thought that a break from the city was what he needed -- time with his friends and family, miles and cj, was more important than fast-tracking his masterâs degree. the form had once been a beacon of hope, in a way. but now, it felt like a confirmation of everything theo didnât want to face.
after delilah and brandon broke the news to him and miles about their motherâs cancer, theo had fallen into a whirlwind, but memories of the few hours afterwards were blurry. he remembers rushing out of the room, out of the house to the front yard, where the tears had finally made their descent down his cheeks.Â
why why why why why.
the next thing he knew he was in his car, driving, heading away from the town that held so much good, yet so many devastating memories for the young man. he was only twenty two and had already experienced so much loss and pain, been broken down by the world over and over again. and here he was, faced with the fact that he could possibly lose the woman who he called mom for the past fifteen years. he wasnât sure how much more of this he could take before he was too broken beyond repair.
at some point, he pulled off to the side of the road ( most likely about ten miles outside of town ). his tears were blurring his vision, making it too difficult to see the road in front of him. balled fists pounded against the steering wheel and sobs racked theoâs shoulders for hours, it felt like. he was so sad, so frustrated, with everything the universe kept throwing at him. he had been so young when he lost his mother, at an age when the trauma of losing the only family you had ever known was internalized because even the child psychologists believed it hadnât affected his young brain at the time. but the trauma came later.Â
it came when he found himself crying over a pathetic family tree in the sixth grade, where all he could include was himself, sofia, miles, brandon, and delilah. he was encouraged to include the rest of the hollis family, but it didnât feel right. they werenât his family.
it came when theo watched ezra cope with the death of his own mother, realizing that there were so many stages of grief that he had never gone through himself. when heâd sneak into ezraâs room in the middle of the night just to hold him and tell him it was okay, heâd let his own grief-filled tears stain pillowcases -- not only for ezraâs mother, but for his own.
it came when heâd woken up next to a prominent editor with only blurry memories to piece together what had happened. the first thought that came to mind was his mother. what would she think of him, waking up next to someone whoâd so clearly taken advantage of him and would continue to do so for years?
it came during his first therapy session in new york, when he was asked about his family health history -- unknown. he couldnât tell his therapist whether or not his mother had battled depression or if his father was medicated for anxiety because he just didnât know. he would never know the answer to those questions.
and it was coming now, the underlying trauma rooted in the premature death of his mother shaking him to his core as he tried to grapple with the fact that delilah had been diagnosed with breast cancer. it was almost two hours of an uninterrupted anxiety attack before theo was able to pull himself together and drive home.
unbeknownst to him at the time, he would spend the next few days hidden away in his room, unable to fully bring himself to the level of functioning that heâd managed to adhere to since coming back home. his phone would lay abandoned on his night stand, with the occasional buzz of the group chat. heâd respond every now and then, ensuring no one had any reason to worry -- even send out individual texts to cj and august, explaining away his absence in the past few days. emails about his potential book contract would pile up in his inbox, wondering where the first few poem drafts were and why he hadnât submitted them by the deadline the day before. the pages full of potential poems he could send to his editor lay abandoned on his desk next to his laptop, where the deferral form glared at him in bright led light. calls from new york would go unanswered, voicemails filling his phone, each one angrier than the last, wondering why he wasnât responding and threatening to pull the plug on his career that was so deeply rooted in circumstances theo could hardly think about.
in the first few days of his reclusiveness, delilah tried to talk to theo, about her diagnosis, about how it didnât mean the worst for her, about the options she had to beat it. but theo would just lay in bed, his back to her, not responding. to acknowledge the fact that delilah was sick was to acknowledge that he could lose her. and he couldnât lose another mom, the emotional toll would be too much.
every so often there would be a knock on theoâs door and he knew right away that it was miles. each knock would be followed up with a text from his brother, never anything that would be classified as substantial to anyone outside of the two boys, but it meant a lot to theo. it was his older brother letting him know that he was there for him, the simple texts and mugs of tea left outside his door. every time he was reminded of the fact that he wasnât going through any of this alone, that his feelings probably werenât unique to just him. delilah was milesâs mom too, even more so than she was theoâs. and if things were this bad for him, he could only imagine what miles was going through. it seemed like neither of them could escape the weight of the world around them, no matter how hard they tried to shove it off.
the fighting in the group chat had been the last straw for theo. he couldnât bear to watch all of his friends, people he loved, constantly bicker all the time because of stupid shit when there were more important things going on. so heâd left the group chat, the one he created with the hopes of creating a feeling of nostalgia for his friends -- though it only seemed to bring negative feelings for everyone, including himself.
that night, theo sat down at his laptop and finished filling out the deferral form. with one click of the touch pad, the email was sent and he just had to wait for approval before he would text one of his friends in the city that he would need them to water his plants for a few more months.
on the line that asked for the reason for the deferral request, theo wrote simply: wanting to spend more time with the people he loved.
#*â§Â·Ë. â stood on the cliffside screaming. ( para )#death tw#cancer tw#illness tw#anxiety tw#prostitution tw#sad tw#i am so sorry for sad boi hours in the middle of the day
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Year One: DNF
DNF at chapter fourteen. Back to the library!
This was my first, and possibly only, Nora Roberts. I just didnât get it? And the writing style wasnât my thing. There was a lot of repetition, like, the characters literally repeat what they just said. Literally repeat what they just said.
The characters werenât interesting. The only two I liked were Arlys and Fred, and after skipping ahead, I saw they disappear later in the book and we continue to follow Lana. Boring, boring Lana. And thereâs all this talk of The One and a random wizard straight out of a fantasy novel appears to lay down prophecy and I just⊠didnât get it??? But the atmosphere was cool. The silence, the doom, the barbaric nature of men in a crisis. Yeah, it was depressing and I struggled to get through the chapters Arlys and Fred were in the subway tunnels. So for being a doomsday novel, the atmosphere was spot on.
State of Wonder: DNF
DNF around page 200-something. Back to the library, babe. I found the idea of the book intriguing, especially about big pharma business, but it doesnât truly play into anything. It takes at least 200 pages for Marina to even get to the Amazon. The poor girl was in her forties, had enough life experiences that were glanced over, so you might think that she was compelling and complex and fleshed out as our main character. Nope. Marina was flat. The surrounding characters, especially two people who were described as bohemians and were supposed to be fun and quirky, were flat. The writing was flat. The pace was glacial. Flipping through the book, nothing changes. What should be exciting and overwhelming is described as drab and gray as a rain cloud. There are, I think, six pages of a hypothetical conversation that goes in circles. Marina never pops out as a real character, her entire purpose of going to the Amazon is pushed aside and forgotten. The ending was beyond dumb. Iâve been wanting to read The Magicianâs Assistant for a long time and havenât been able to find a Patchett book until now, but after State of Wonder, Iâm not sure I actually want to read it nowâŠ
The Silent Patient: DNF
DNF at page 65. I couldnât get into it. I couldnât take Theoâs ego anymore, or the filler conversations that added no depth to characters. Or the way women were portrayed. I understand his ego plays into the story later on but wow. Just wow. The book mentions film rights, and Iâm assuming it was written as a screenplay first and then turned into a novel.
Skimming ahead, the characters are wooden and women are overly sexualized beasts. Donât get me wrong; I love women who embrace their need for satisfaction. Weâre humans, too. But sex plays into betrayal, and just about every mention is either a bargaining chip or cheating in a relationship. Ew.
The twist is decent, not groundbreaking, but decent. Again, it plays into Theoâs massive ego. Iâm just not sure itâs a good enough pay off for me to suffer through the whole thing. There were two (two and a half, three?) pages of text wall where Theo describes his dependency on marijuana. In college. Far in the past. Like, I get it. You had problems in your family and used drugs to escape. Do I need long walls of text of every tiny detail, including your own therapy sessions? No, I can figure out context clues.
Anyway, this thing is going back to the library. And maybe itâs just my version. The version my library has is an ARC. Maybe the full release was touched up?
Wish You Were Here: 2 œ stars
Another day, another chick lit. Another book where the heroine doesnât realize her worth until a man teaches her. The pace was break-neck, the writing wasnât anything special. For a book thatâs supposed to be emotional, there was a huge disconnect because none of the characters really felt anything. We were just told there was a lot of crying or smiling or squinting. But I guess the message was sweet?
The Royal Runaway: 2 œ stars
I didnât really feel one way or another about this book. There was no chemistry between Nick and Thea; neither one really had a personality, just a few traits. The plot was⊠silly? It started out as a legitimate mystery but didnât last. The writing wasnât anything special; Thea didnât have a voice, didnât explain herself or her surroundings. Everything was flat but it made for a quick, easy read.
The Face of Deception: 3 stars
There was always a trend of "one of the guys" women in cop thrillers during the 90s, and this book was no different. Except. Except it was kind of different. Eve isn't part of a police crew, she doesn't rub elbows with the FBI, doesn't carry a gun. She has more humanity than the other women I've read in this genre, and she's still recovering from the trauma of losing her child to a murderer. She's not a fan of violence. She's desperate to protect others, but she knows she doesn't need a gun to do it. Her weakness and vulnerability was a breath of fresh air compared to other women in her genre.
Sisters of Heart and Snow: 3 stars
What a genuinely cozy read! As much as I hate chick lit, I found myself gobbling this one up. The sisters kind of bored me, but Tomoeâs story kept me reading. And reading. And reading. And surprisingly, even though itâs chick lit, not everything was wrapped up in a neat little bow. Not every problem can be fixed.
Nearly Gone: 3 stars
Wait, a YA book that I actually liked??? The plot was enough to carry the book that the âsupernaturalâ element of Nearly being able to feel emotions was pointless. Were there cliches? Sure. But I got duped! A YA that actually tricked me! I kinda have to like it. Oh, and the writing was nice; Nearly wasnât a thirty year old narrator stuck in high school. But on the opposite side of the spectrum, Nearly really needs to get a life outside of her new boyfriend. Once again a high school heroine who throws her friends aside for the boyfriend.
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My Reaction to âGothamâ S2E19
Yep. Told ya Iâd get this one up.
AN: Â I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.
Whoa....
What the....
âHas there been any improvement since he [Theo] woke up yesterday?â âNo. But he's wonderful, isn't he?â I... I wouldnât say that...
âThe Will and Order of St. Dumas.â What?
*Jim stops by Arkham*Â Oh SNAAAAAPPP!
âPinewood Farms was started by Thomas Wayne in an attempt to cure humanity's greatest ailments on the genetic level old age, disease, even death.â âBut that's not what happened, is it?â *snaps sassy Z-line in the air* No it ainât!
âKaren said the program tried to play God, and you [Hugo] ended up creating monsters.â âI was just a researcher with no knowledge of that until it was too late.â Uhh, ha ha, no.
âIâm [Jim] not here for a therapy session, Professor.â Thank you.
âNo. Itâs more like an interrogation by a man who is no longer a police officer.â Ohh!
â[Jim] You're trying to make up for the sins of your past, and you believe that this case will somehow bring about your own personal redemption.â *grimaces*
âVictor Fries is dead, Mr. Gordon.â Well that is a lie.
âReally? I saw him last night.â Thank you!
âI [JIm] can read tells, too. [Hugo] Youâre lying.â *claps and points at screen* Yeeess!
Oh there it is! Thereâs the theme!
*Ed explains to Aaron that the other inmateâs personality is not him via pretending to scold the air AKA âLucyâ*Â OK, this is actually not a bad way to diffuse the situation.
Look at Ed being the negotiator when it comes to situations in Arkham!Â
*claps*
âGo to hell, Ed.â Thank you!
âNobody beats me.â Really?
âI [Jim] did. See you never, Ed.â Hahahaha!
Thereâs the Jim Gordon I know!
âWhat has no hands but might knock on your door, and you better open up if it does?â Fate?
âI [Ed] can help you [Hugo] take him [Jim] down.â You better not!
*One of the inmates tries to lick Ed*Â EEEWWW!!
*Ed explains to Hugo how he manipulated the other inmates by simply listening to them and what they want*Â Holy crap, Ed!
This is the Riddler!
âEveryone has a story...â Azrael?
Ed, what did you do?
âWe have got to give him [Theo] a great, heroic story.â âWe need to give him a good heroic dose of Thorazine, but you're [Hugo] the boss.â ...Yes.
Uhhh.... is this a good idea??
âHello?â *in best Hugo Strange voice* Itâs me.
WHOA
âDonât you [Theo] feel a fatherâs love when I [Hugo] look into your eyes?â *in high pitched voice* NOT REALLY!
âNo. No. There is another life. There is a sister, a high tower-â *puts hands on head in shock* Ohhh, he [Theo] remembers Tabitha!
Whoaaa ho ho hoooo... oh my gosshhh...
âThis man [Hugo] ordered my parents' death? You're sure?â Why would Hugo Strange order the deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne?
âBruce, I [Jim] know you're frustrated, but we need to do this the right way.â âThe right way? And how many times did that fail with Galavan?â HOOO!!
âWe'll work on Barnes, get him to sign off on a warrant and put Strange away for good. The right way.â Where are they gonna put Strange if they do arrest him? Blackgate? Probably not Arkham.
Is this immersion therapy [the St. Dumas video Strange is showing Azrael]?
AN:Â The video actually reminded me of the conversion video from the video game âOutlastâ (and no, Iâm putting a link of that video in because it is also a trigger video from a disturbing game- a game that Iâve only seen gameplays for and donât actually plan on playing anytime soon).
âThis Dumas character was made a saint, performed a lot of miracles and so forth. And one of the miracles was bringing Azrael back to life.â âI [Miss Peabody] still prefer Thorazine.â Heeheehee!
What the heck did they do to Theoâs face? Was that from when they re-stitched his face back together after removing the umbrella from the back of his head??
*Ed watches Miss Peabody take Aaron down to Indian Hill*Â Oooohhh...
Oh my God, is this gonna be how Ed escapes? Please do not follow them!
Yeah, where are they taking Aaron?
Waaait, theyâre taking him to Azrael! Oooohhhh...
Oh I like that shot of Ed with the rose-tinted windows behind him.
*Aaron meets Azrael* Oh. Snaaaappp...
âI [Hugo] am crafting your [Azraelâs] armor as we speak, but first, your skills must be tested.â NOOO, heâs gonna kill Aaron!!
*gasps when Azrael knocks out Aaron with the briefcase*
âNot exactly what I had in mind, but good enough. Try opening the chest, my son.â Hahahaha...
[Itâs like in âHerculesâ] âUSE YOUR HEAD!â âRiightt...â
Hahaha, this is exactly what happened!
âThe Sword of Sin. Your [Azraelâs] ally and instrument of justice, a vanquisher of evil for generations. She thirsts for blood.â Howâd they get a sword?
âMy lord, I [Azrael] am the Angel of Death. James Gordon dies... tonight.â Hooo!
Why would they [the GCPD] let the press anywhere near the crime scene? That is way too close!
Where is the tape? Where is the line?
âListen, kid- Mr. Wayne- I [Barnes] don't care how much money or pull you have in this town. I'm through talking to him [Jim].â âAre you through listening to the truth?â Whooo...
âWhat are you [Ed] gonna do with all this stuff, anyway?â Thatâs a good question...
âI think Professor Strange is hiding something. And I think that something is a secret way out of this dump. So I'm gonna use this stuff to find it.â This is totally like Jim Carrey-level Riddler right here... and I like this better than the actual Jim Carrey Riddler!
I like the Riddler better than Ed. Whatâs goinâ ON?!?
â[JIm] You self-righteous punk. You think you have all the answers? Maybe you should run it yourself!â âMaybe I will one day.â HE DOES!
*softly gasps when the precinct lights go out*
âWhoâs there?â OH SNAP!
Hereâs my question:Â how did Hugo Strange get all the armor for Azrael?
If this armorâs bulletproof, I swear to God...
WHOA!
Grab his [Azraelâs] cape!
*Azrael leaps out of the precinct*Â Whoa...
Masked man in a cape- Bruce, do not take any ideas from this for Batman!
âCalls himself Azrael. Wants to kill me [Jim]. We know Hugo Strange is responsible.â Do you?
âExcuse me, Captain. I [Bruce] find your flippant attitude to be inappropriate.â Hoo hoo hooo!
âI [Jim] can't make the moves I need to make if I'm worrying about you [Bruce]. You need to be at home, where Alfred can look after you.â Bruce is like â...no... Iâm never liking this. When has there ever been a situation that I liked?â
Whoa! Oswald, what the heck happened to you?
*gasps when Azrael gets flashbacks of his past life*
Whoaaa!
âI'm [JIm] not a cop anymore, remember? I don't need to follow your [Barnesâs] orders.â No, but youâre a citizen now, technically.
Through the Looking Glass? Weâre getting a sneak peek of Mad Hatter this season?
Dutch angle!
If Azrael tries to storm the GCPD to get Jim, I swear to God..
*The lights go out*Â Oh snap, are you freaking kidding me?
Yeah, thatâs freaking him [Azrael]. Hooooly crap.
Heâs gonna bust through that window-
*Azrael crashes through the window*Â Oooohhh!!
Oh heâs [Azrael] gonna do the superhero landing. Wait for it!
Oh he didnât- THERE WE GO!
*claps* WHOO! Superhero landing!
How do they not recognize Theoâs voice?
*gasps when Azrael butchers one of the cops*
Whoa!
*Barnes knocks Azrael to the ground*Â Oh, go Barnes!
âWe need a bigger gun.â *laughing* Yeah...
Youâre gonna have to like nuke him!
Oh yeah, like a freaking pipe [wedged in the door handles] is gonna stop Azrael. When he can literally punch a hole through the door!
[Barnes] Do not go at freaking Azrael WITH A PIPE.
âLetâs dance.â *after a five second pause* Put on your red shoes and dance the blues... letâs sway!
*gasps when Barnes knocks Azrael to the ground*Â Oh snap!
Heâs [Barnes] gonna see his [Azraelâs] face!
*gasps when Azrael stabs Barnes in the knee*
NOOOOO! NOOOO oh my God!
Nooooo!
*Jim comes onto the rooftop*Â Ohhh snaaaappp...
This better not the end of the freaking episode. Iâm gonna riot.
âCome to me [Azrael], and I will show you [Jim] the way to hell.â âI know the way.â Whoooo....
*Jim manages to shoot Azrael off the rooftop*Â OooohhhH!
*gasps when Azrael falls on top of the news van*
Nah, no no no no, Barnes ainât freaking dying nope! Weâre not doinâ this.
*Tabitha, Butch, and Barbara go through the TV channels* OH SNAP! Theyâre gonna see the TV!
What the heck...
âOK, she [Barbara] scares me [Butch].â Heeheehee!
âDo we have any limes?â HAHAHAHA!
Oh my God, Oswaldâs gonna go after hiiiimm [Azrael] ...
*counts off with fingers*Â Wait, so Jimâs going after him, Hugo Strange is going after him, probably Tabithaâs gonna go after him to... teach him his humanity, Bruce is probably gonna go after him....
âStrange must be behind this.â Heâs always behind this.
âWhat the hell is happening to our city?â Thatâs a very good question, Alfred! You should ask that every single freaking time!
*trying not to laugh*Â What the heck is this music?
*ends up boogie-ing to music while laughing*Â This music!
AN:Â Itâs âIâm Looking Over a Four Leaf Cloverâ by Mitch Miller
Is Ed gonna encounter Azrael at the end of this episode? Hoooly snot!
Hiii Indian Hill...
âOh my.â Oh my, indeed.
Thatâs a really good shot of Ed in the middle of the aisle
Oooooh, is this Jimâs leitmotif?
*puts hands around mouth* CGI TRANSITION PANNING SHOT!
*Azrael stands on top of the bridge overlooking the city*Â Oh my God... thatâs a freaking Batman pose!
*Azrael brings about the end logo by flourishing his cape*Â YOOOO!!!
*about ready to lose voice* That was so much Batman! Before we even get Batman! Aaaaahhh ha ha...
*jams out to ending theme*
#azrael#Gotham#FOX#the blogger reacts#looked at the stars and considered a reaction#hugo strange#theo galavan#jim gordon#edward nygma#bruce wayne#batman#nathaniel barnes#SO MUCH BATMAN BEFORE WE EVEN GET BATMAN!#tabitha galavan#oswald copplepot
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Theo's journey: A transgender child at war with his body
New Post has been published on http://usnewsaggregator.com/theos-journey-a-transgender-child-at-war-with-his-body/
Theo's journey: A transgender child at war with his body
Theo Ramos learned how to cut himself when he was in fifth grade, when his body seemed to revolt.
Exploring online was easy, with hashtags like #scars, #hurt and #brokeninside.
Nothing made sense back then, but Theo absorbed what he saw on websites like a religion. All he could focus on was how the exterior he was born with â that of a girl â didnât look or feel right. That was six years ago, when he had another name and a different gender.
Back then, Theo felt that his body was rebelling in disturbing ways. He developed breasts and got his period. He felt like a boy, but every month, the cramps reminded him of reality.
He became a child at war with his body. He wasnât aware of words like gender dysphoria or transgender; those would come later. So would the national debates, the furor over bathrooms, and discussions of how to help children who didnât feel right in their own skin.
âWhen youâre 10 years old, you really shouldnât be worried about who you are,â Theo would say years later, in a moment of reflection. âYou shouldnât be having that existential question when youâre in fifth grade. You should be worried about homework and the fifth-grade dance coming up.â
He knew he was different from other kids in class. One day in the girlsâ bathroom at his South Florida elementary school, Theo made the first of many gouges in his arm, using a paperclip. Pricks of blood bloomed on his fair skin. A teacher and a school nurse whisked Theo to safety.
Theoâs mother, Lori Ramos, got the call from the principal. Her child was in the hospital. Ramos burst into the ER: Was it a fall, a fight, a shooting?
âWhatâs going on here?â Ramos demanded of doctors and school staff. The answers were confusing: Her child had asked a teacher to call her by a different name, use different pronouns. Her child didnât feel normal and wanted to be a boy.
Ramos was bewildered â she saw no prior clues her child felt this way. And she was no stranger to transgender, gay, lesbian and bisexual issues â she worked in a clinic for HIV patients.
When sheâd given birth in 2001, in a hot tub on the familyâs back porch in a Florida suburb an hour south of glitzy Miami Beach, she was thrilled. âI had my older son, and I had my girl, and my family was complete,â Ramos said.
Her baby. Her âsunshine girl.â One who was no longer filled with light.
Theo was involuntarily committed for 72 hours so doctors could determine whether he was a danger to himself or others. Soon, therapists and doctors had a diagnosis: gender dysphoria, a conflict between a personâs physical or assigned gender and the gender with which they identify.
But a diagnosis didnât solve Theoâs problems or make him feel better. When he tried to look like a boy, everyone at school noticed. His mother was accepting; his father wasnât. He threatened to disown Theo.
Theo again turned to the internet. He started cutting around his thighs and hips â his âproblem areas.â
When Theo saw thin kids online, he looked at his own baby fat and, once again, didnât fit in. He wouldnât eat for days, or heâd force himself to throw up.
Cutting and vomiting werenât painful, not exactly. They were more of a stress release, a way to match physical pain to what he felt inside: âI just know that it isnât right, that the body I have isnât supposed to be this way.â
Small aggressions at school led to outright bullying. Other kids asked what was in Theoâs pants, if he had a penis, if he could show them. Theo started missing school. A therapist diagnosed depression and anxiety disorder.
If only Theo could become a boy through hormone therapy â that, he thought, would solve his problems.
âItâs just like every time Iâm misgendered it feels like a wrench clamping around my heart and it slowly grows tighter and tighter,â he explained. âBeing addressed as female or identifying as female never felt right to me; it always gave me this acute sense of discomfort and pain.â
Hormone therapy for transgender children is a recent, controversial practice. It hasnât been studied much. The concept that children can be transgender has been discussed in the open only recently; previously, it was something to be hidden, squashed and ignored. About 150,000 teenagers in the U.S. identify as transgender, according to a 2017 study by the Williams Institute at UCLAâs School of Law. About 1.4 million U.S. adults identify as transgender.
Medical professionals have come up with protocols for children and teens. They recommend that some kids with gender dysphoria essentially pause puberty with hormone blockers until theyâre certain they want to live as a different gender. But the child must be prepubescent. It was too late when Theo and his parents learned about the option.
Theo could take testosterone, but rigorous counseling sessions were recommended first. This annoyed Theo: Why not become a boy right away?
Experts say impatience is common: Transgender children want to transition, and waiting is frustrating. Even under regular circumstances, teens and patience arenât usually mentioned in the same sentence.
Doctors say going slow when treating trans teens is essential for physical and emotional well-being, and note that if a teenâs feelings last until age 16, the desires are probably permanent.
Theo insisted testosterone could bring peace with his body: âIf I could just start T therapy, I would know I was on the way to being who Iâm supposed to be.â
His parents, though, worried about the effects on their growing child.
Theo wanted testosterone, but his anxiety sometimes made him question his desires. It became a regular topic of conversation between mother and son.
âIâm nervous,â Theo said in the spring of 2016. He was 14. âWhat if I do change my mind?â
âWell, what if you do?â asked his mother.
âI can always stop,â Theo said.
Ramos shook her head. âThe changes are permanent.â
âââ
EDITORâS NOTE: The Associated Press followed Theo Ramos for more than a year as he grappled with his gender dysphoria. This is the first installment of a three-part story.
PART ONE: As a child grappling with gender dysphoria, Theo Ramos found himself at war with his body.
PART TWO: Living with a transitioning transgender child âis anything but a straight line,â as his mom says.
PART THREE: Visibility of transgender issues is at a high, but all the talk in the world doesnât make life any easier as a gender-fluid or transitioning kid.
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Follow Tamara Lush on Twitter at https://twitter.com/tamaralush .
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