#I feel even worse for people my age who still look like middle school kids man like

[tariah23]

This trend of 90’s babies going around bragging about how “you really can’t even TELL that I’m actually 30 lol. I still look like a teenager 😌. Even younger than actual teenagers-“ has been so weird man. This obsession with youth and even the competitive nature that a lot of these people have with literal kids is very strange and it’s only getting worse. It sucks since most adults who do look younger than their age are usually treated like children and are not taken as seriously as they would if they looked older. It’s not a good feeling at all :(.

#and then when you look at their pictures they all do be looking their actual age or even older… #like people treat me like I’m a kid and are always shocked when they learn that I’m in my late 20’s and it’s so uncomfortable #treating me like an idiot/child… #all of the ppl who hit on my are usually older men (it’s weird because they do it because I look young) and the people my age look past me #it’s so… #I feel even worse for people my age who still look like middle school kids man like #you’ll be infantilized for the rest of your life if you still look like a kid as an adult 🗿 #I wished I looked a little older so that ppl would take me more seriously #rambling #when I was at community college I saw a girl who I graduated 8th grade with and she legit still looked the same #like an actual child 😭… I still look like a HS freshman maybe sophomore it sucks #I never glowed up lmfao #kms rn 🪽 #idc if others reblog this btw it just sucks ass man #I keep seeing this shit spread about by ppl who are too afraid of aging #it only makes me feel sad

[erodasfishtacos]

Loving You is Easy (Demi)

prompt: my baby 🥺 mlb!harry’s exploration of his sexuality and coming out.

word count: 14.3k 🥲

warnings: topics of sexuality, identify issues, bullying, toxic masculinity, smut - 18+ minors dni

Take The Hint takes place in the middle of this fic & so you might want to reread first or when Harry starts to mention YN.

This fic is my baby. I’m so so proud of it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️

And I really would love to hear your thoughts so please send me a message about the fic ❣️

-

Assumptions.

That’s what Harry’s life has been based upon since he was in little league because of his perceived dominance and masculinity.

It happened nearly every game, he’d always draw attention because of his skill. 

Even at such a young age - as soon as he could bat without the tee to hold the ball, people knew that he was something special.

Women would pinch his cheek and tell his mother to watch out because he was going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies - men would chuckle and joke that they were going to have to hide their daughters from him.

It doesn’t get any better as he grows up, it actually gets worse. 

The more notoriety he garners, more attention and not just based on his athletic abilities, his looks landed him almost just as much.

He was good-looking and had above average athleticism, he was irresistible for people to leave alone.

He can’t count the number of times that men have asked him how many girls he had fucked that week because he just had to be getting it all the time.

In all this time of feeling wanted, Harry had never felt more alone. 

He felt like there was something wrong with him. 

There had to be - because he wasn’t living up to any expectations that society has set for him and had made abundantly clear since he was young.

He was meant to have a girl on his arm, who had to be the societal standard of beautiful who would follow him like a puppy.

Since he was a young teenager, always playing on baseball teams much higher than his age level - coaches and scouts knew that he was destined for the major leagues and it was just a matter of time before they snatched him up.

Girls in high school would swoon over his chiseled jaw, the way his biceps flexed, and the baseball bleachers were riddled with gaggles of giggly girls watching him practice on the pitch.

He didn’t have a break, there wasn’t a day of practice that didn’t go by where girls weren’t coming to watch him as he played.

It was supposed to be flattering but to Harry, it was just frustrating to constantly have all these girls gawking after him when he wasn’t interested.

Harry knew that he should be enjoying all the attention from the female gaze, at least, that’s what he thinks because of how often people are making assumptions about his private life.

But that’s all these things were…

Assumptions.

Harry didn’t care about girls or dating in middle school, never really gave it another thought when he never developed any crushes on the pretty peers who were very much interested in him.

It wasn’t until high school that he realized that there was something wrong with him or so he thought that he wasn’t normal like the other kids.

Harry began to realize that he didn’t have the same interests and urges as his friends who were constantly drooling over girls in short skirts or commenting on their appearances.

He could look at a girl and think she’s pretty but he didn’t have some deep primal urge to ask her over his house so he could get his rocks off like his friends did.

It only became an issue when his so-called friends started teasing him about his lack of social life with the ladies.

They would ask him if he was gay or asexual, asked him if he was still a virgin with all the date offers he gets.

He didn’t know what he was - he didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, he wanted to have sex but he didn’t just want it to be random.

Harry now realizes it wasn’t harmless teasing, not with how much emotional damage it had on his psyche to constantly be questioned about his sexuality.

He hadn’t known what he was.

It had been a late night practice and everyone was talking about the upcoming prom dance.

“Who are you taking, Styles?” Cody, one of his teammates asks as he packs up his bag with his equipment.

“Er, not sure,” Harry shrugs, attempting to come off nonchalant and unbothered by the question - despite how cocky he appeared, he was the furthest thing from confident internally about the topic.

“Come on! I know Lana and Jessie already asked you and they’re the hottest girls in the school! Lana’s tits are massive,” Seth chimes in, offended that Harry would have the nerve to turn down the girls of his teenage dreams.

Harry feels his face get hot because he knows what this is going to turn into very quickly - as it always did.

“Is it because you’re taking your boyfriend? Or yourself? Your hand can’t be your only date forever!” Cody crows, Harry’s hackle standing up at the jab and he feels himself getting hot.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Harry huffs out instead, swinging his pack over his shoulder and turning on his heel to leave.

“You know for how good you are at baseball, nobody would know you’re a virgin. Great in the field, a dud in the sheets,” Conner can’t help but add in, all the boys were chuckling as they changed.

Harry is still trying to be the bigger person by continuing to walk away but when Seth snickers, “Y’know what I think? He’s so good at baseball because he’s making up for his small dick.’

Everyone has a breaking point.

They had managed to get Harry to hit his, which was an accomplishment but the subject of his sexuality had become more and more tender over the past few months as he really started to understand his dilemma. 

Harry drops his bag at his feet, storming towards Seth with his fist coming up, raised and about to swing when their coach appears to stop anything from happening.

Seth is frowning with his hands up in surrender, eyes wide as he realizes Harry was actually mad, “I was just joking around with you. Take a fucking joke.”

“The only joke in this locker room is your baseball abilities,” Harry snarls back, it was quite the insult coming from their captain and Seth's face drops even more than before.

“Styles, hit the road,” Coach Greggs orders, pointing towards the exit of the lock room with a serious expression - disappointment in his star player’s behavior.

-

When Harry gets home, he bypasses his mum and sister without even a hello before he’s running upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut.

He hates feeling like this.

Like he didn’t even know who he was.

How difficult could it be to figure out what or who you’re attracted to?

He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t broken, he knew all his body parts worked, it wasn’t anything but pure mental blockage.

Thinking about having someone lay next to him in his bed, they’re kissing, taking off clothes - Harry likes the idea of that.

However, it’s not just anyone, it’s not a random hookup.

He imagines it being someone he’s in love with, he’s so fucking fond of, and they know each other so intimately - its just them in their little world, no one else had this experience but them together.

But that doesn’t make any sense.

That’s not a thing.

Harry always felt normal beside this but this was major. 

This was detrimental that he figured out what his issue was or he would never have a partner, get married, have kids.

Sure, he'd probably be a successful baseball player but may be the oldest virgin on this earth if he didn't shake this feeling.

Harry decides that same night that he's going to go against his instincts and just ask a girl to the dance - maybe once he put himself out there it will change.

And as Harry was thinking about it, he wouldn't necessarily be against asking a boy either but he's not sure he's ready to explore that idea right now.

He didn't feel excited at the aspect of having a date but instead just a sad relief that his teammates won't bother him anymore.

It felt lonely and isolating.

-

Harry brings flowers the next day, he knows which girl he wants to ask, Yazmin - he knew she had a crush on him and she was nice, not overly concerned with what others thought of her.

The other reason he is choosing her is because she is one of the many who had made it extremely obvious that she would instantly say yes to him if he asked and he was really not trying to get rejected either.

He feels bad he's not very enthusiastic when she accepts and draws him into a massive hug with her face buried in his neck.

To avoid coming off as rude, he hugs her back until it becomes too much for him and he's pulling back with a forced smile.

The lunchroom is filled with envious glares from other girls who had either been dropping hints to Harry that they wanted to go with him or they'd be too nervous to be forward and are boiling with envy.

Yazmin begins to talk about colors, her dress, everything that people should be looking forward to for the event.

Harry...well, he was just hoping that after he asked her and she accepted that he would feel something, anything towards her whether it was a bit of fondness or admiration.

There wasn’t a question that she was pretty, her long thick black curls that fell down her back, her warm brown eyes, and wide smile.

But there was nothing, absolutely nothing that was attracting him to her at this moment as she babbled on about cool versus warm tones.

-

After baseball practice, he wanders in to his mum and sister sitting at the dinner table - just beginning their meal as they chat.

When he drops his backpack and duffle bag near the entryway and joins them - he's tired from all the drills and doesn't say anything more than 'hi' as he begins digging in.

"Mrs. Fields told me today that you asked Yazmin to the dance," Anne smiles with bright eyes, she was proud that he was putting himself out there - she worried about him.

Harry feels his stomach churn, he's short when he replies, not looking up from his plate, "Yeah."

"I'm so happy for you, this is going to be so exciting," Anne says before taking a sip of her tea and patting his hand.

"She's pretty too," Gemma adds to the conversation, "I think you guys are going to make a cute couple."

"I'm not dating her," Harry says sharply, using a bit more force to stab at his vegetables, "It's just an invite to a stupid dance. That's it."

"I know, dear. It's just that we haven’t seen you interested in any girls at your school and I want you to enjoy your high school experience-"

"Can I not enjoy high school without a girlfriend? Is me not being not a star athlete enough?" Harry is getting loud which isn't like him to every raise his voice at his mother, "Why does everyone fucking care? I just want to be left the fuck alone about it!"

With that, Harry is slamming down his silverware, snatching his backpack off the floor, and storming up to his room with the door shutting and the lock being flicked.

-

Harry doesn't come out of his room that night and refuses to speak more than a few words to them through the door.

The next morning when Harry comes down for school, dressed and ready to go, Anne tries to  smooth over the situation.

She didn't know what was going on with her son and that was a new uncomfortable feeling for her - usually he was open about everything with her.

Anne didn't know what she said that had triggered the response he'd given and despite how much she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that she shouldn't force him.

"Harry," Anne speaks up when he steps into the kitchen to make his morning protein drink, " I want to talk about last night."

"There's nothing to talk about, s'fine," He brushes off stiffly as he reaches for one of his shaker bottles and container of protein mix.

"There is. I clearly upset you last night," Anne's voice is soft and cautious, "I'm sorry. I love no matter if you want to date or not, I'm proud and excited for you no ma-"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Harry bites back as he tries to scoop out the powder, hands shaking with some strong emotion, and it spills onto the countertop.

"I didn't say there was," Anne furrows her brow, she felt like they were on two difficult wavelengths and not really speaking the same language - having two different conversations.

"Shouldn't everyone care that I'm lined up to go pro or that with all this training, I still get straight A's," Harry scoffs as he pours the water and shakes it harshly, "Why is everyone so focused on who I'm going to sleep with?"

And with that, he's grabbing his stuff and leaving the house - Anne stunned as she sits at the breakfast nook unsure of how an innocent conversation at dinner has led to an ongoing tense back and forth with her son.

-

Yazmin is all over him and Harry is quickly realizing that him inviting her to the dance was also interpreted as him asking her to be his girlfriend.

But when she sat down next to him at lunch, her hand moving to intertwine with his - he didn't push her off but instead could only think about the whole lunch period about how he didn't want to be holding hands with her.

However, he noticed that all of his friends had their girlfriends cuddled up on them too and seemed to enjoy it when their girl curled into them or kissed their cheeks.

He played along.

-

In the locker room, after practice, well Harry wishes he could skip changing and go home because he was starting to not enjoy this time around his teammates.

"Yazmin, man," Hunter laughs as he sits on the bench to kick off his cleats, "It's no surprise you wait until the last minute to ask a girl out and you pick the hottest girl at school."

Harry shrugs as he shoves his jersey into his duffle, shoulders already tensing because of the conversation topic, "Yeah, she's nice.”

"Nice? You mean has nice tits," Luke adds and the other boys howl loudly as they mock breasts with their hands coming up their chests, "She's got huge ones. Let me know how they look when you get her topless."

Harry shakes his head, face turned away towards his locker- even though his teammates are being pigs, he wishes he could relate in a way.

He hadn't even looked at her chest or maybe he had but it didn't elicit any type of sexual response that made him want to get her naked.

It seemed like every other guy in the room had the identical response except him - normal teenage boys cared about boobs, really no matter who they belonged to.

"Yeah, I saw Casey's pair last night," Josh adds with a cocky smirk, "Let me touch 'em and everything."

Luckily, that conversation distracts the boys enough to lay off of Harry - now to focused on Josh's experience with his girlfriend.

They don't even notice when he slips out the door to head home as they all joke around and share stories.

Life was just..

Harry was miserable.

He dreaded going to school because of all the eyes on him, the fact that Yazmin wanted to be with him every free second, or his friends who were always talking about something girl or sex-related.

At practice, he got hounded by his teammates about the same things everyday and had to hear tales that he didn't assimilate to in the slightest.

At home, he was now in this weird limbo where he knows his mom and sister feel like they're walking on eggshells because of his moodiness that he refuses to talk about.

The ideas of relationship and sex were closing in on him from every angle and he just didn't want to talk about it.

He wished that when he was born someone just smacked a label on his forehead that said 'gay', 'straight', 'asexual', something so that he didn't have to figure this out himself.

Why was it so fucking difficult?

He felt broken, like his brain wasn't functioning correctly because he couldn't even decipher his own thoughts or feelings.

He'd always felt like this in a way but now that he is at the age where people begin to get into relationships and have sex - it's in the forefront of his mind.

He just has to get through the dance with Yazmin, that's it - he at least has to try to see this through with dating her.

-

Harry knows he's been pulling away from his family too but he doesn't feel like he's able to help it - he can’t explain what’s going on and he doesn’t want to be shunned by them too.

Because he feels like if he talked to them he'll blurt out, "I might not be straight" or "I don't know what's going on with me."

He used to think that he thought about it a lot but ever since he asked Yazmin to the dance - the only time he doesn't think about it is when he's on the field  or working out.

Baseball is his only escape.

When all the boys are going out after the game, the weekend before the dance, they were all inviting their girlfriends to join them.

He didn't want to be an asshole so he knew it was only right to invite Yazmin too - he didn't want her to feel left out.

When they're all in the pizza shop, it's nearly ten at night, and they're all still sipping on Coke and eating pizza after winning the game.

Yazmin is sat next to him in the long booth, their thighs smooshed together, and she wraps her arm around his - resting her head on his shoulder.

It's a nice gesture and Harry feels guilty that he wants to push her away so he lets it happen and tries not to think too much about it.

The conversation turns into the afterparty for prom, they were renting a cabin in a nearby state park, and were planning to drink and have a campfire.

Harry had agreed to go but he really hadn't thought of the implications until Harry is driving Yazmin home that night and she seems nervous in the passenger seat.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asks as he navigates out of the pizza's shop's parking lot and towards her house.

"Yeah. It-It's just, are you excited about the dance? You weren't very talkative in there," She points out, she seems a bit disappointed but hides it behind a small smile.

Harry sighs, he doesn't know how to address it, so he lies, "I am excited, really. It's just been crazy with baseball. I'm sorry it didn't seem like I was in there. Just tired, I guess."

Yazmin perks up immediately, "It's okay, I just wanted to check. I'm used to you being really outspoken and talkative so I was just making sure."

Harry moves his hand over to her, resting it on the lower part of her thigh, near her knee, and squeezes, "It's gonna be fun."

"I can't wait for you to see me in my dress," She replies, her smile widened with his touch as she moves to put her hand over his.

"I'm sure you'll be gorgeous," He fake smiles, keeping his eyes on the road, they're nearly to her house and he presses the gas pedal a little harder.

As they pull up, Yazmin takes a deep breath before asking, "Are you going to bring protection to the cabin?"

Harry gives her a puzzled look, confused for a second by what she means by protection and she grimaces when she realizes he's confused.

"Condoms? I'm on birth control but I want to make sure we're being safe," She adds sheepishly, looking down at her hands.

How was she already talking about sex when they haven't even went further than kissing? 

He didn't think he'd be expected to get intimate with someone this fast in a relationship.

"Oh, er," Harry stammers, just as embarrassed as her, his throat felt tight," Yeah, I'll definitely bring some. If that's what you uh, if that's what you want to do."

For objectively being the most popular boy in school, it was really quite ironic how backwards he was compared to the other people in his grade.

He was eighteen, everyone already assumes that he lost his virginity by this point, and it shows - he wonders if she can tell.

"I'd like to," Yazmin responds before leaning over to kiss him, she parts her lips and Harry matches her but it doesn't feel as nice as he thinks it's supposed to.

They kiss for a while in the car that night until his lips are puffy and swollen but Harry doesn't even remotely feel a twinge of any arousal.

As he drives home that night, he punches his steering wheel a few times- letting out frustrated screams into the car because he just wants to be like everyone else.

-

The actual event of prom goes fine.

It's easy smiling for pictures, eating at a fancy restaurant, and then going to the hotel where they all dance around to the music without anything being too serious.

The issue comes when they get to the cabin and everyone is starting to disappear from the campfire up to their own bedrooms with their significant others.

Harry waits as long as possible, until the flames legitimately start to fizzle out - he hadn't even touched any alcohol, neither had Yazmin.

She was getting impatient as she begins to wrap their hands together and kiss at his neck before finally asking, "Ready to go to our room?"

Harry agrees because he can't stay out here forever, he had bought condoms even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't be using them.

He bought them in the hopes that maybe, magically that once his body knew he had the oppurtunity to have sex that he would be interested enough to do so.

When they're up in the bedroom, Yazmin is on him, her lips finding his and kissing like they were that night in the car.

He can tell that she's nervous too but she seems much more excited and eager as she tugs off his shirt and runs her hands over his stomach before going for his athletic shorts.

She kneels down and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut because when she pulls down his shorts - he's not at all hard.

It doesn't seem to deter her, she leans down to begin to stimulate him, and nothing happens as she does it - it’s not those amazing fireworks that his friends talk about.

He knows there’s a silent tear slipping from his eye when she finally pulls back when she realizes something isn't right.

"I'm sorry," Harry says with the most embarrassment he's ever felt in his life, "I'm- I'm sorry, Yazmin."

Yazmin pulls his shorts back up for him before standing in front of him, she puts her hand to his jaw and says quietly, "Look at me."

Harry blinks his eyes open, trying to hold in his tears as she looks at him with a concerned expression.

"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to force you to do -" She begins to apologize profusely, getting upset herself.

It snaps him out of his own mind and his voice is firm when he interrupts her, "Hey, no. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. It's me, you're-you're wonderful and pretty. It-s me."

Yazmin’s face washes with relief as he speaks, she reaches to take his hands but it's more of a friendly gesture.

"Are you..." She trails off, not wanting to make any assumptions about him.

"I don't know," He says honestly, choking up a bit on the words, "I'm really trying to figure it out and I just feel broken. This proves I am."

"You're not broken, Harry," Yazmin smiles as she shakes her head like he’s silly, "You're just figuring it out and that's okay."

"I know you don't owe me anything after all this but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone," Harry mumbles as he laughs a big self-deprecating.

"My lips are sealed. If anyone asks, we had amazing hot sex," She giggles as she walks over to her bag to pull out pajamas, "Want to watch a movie?"

And his prom night actually wasn't as awful as it started out, Yazmin and him laid in the massive king bed and watched a few older horror movies and made fun of the bad acting.

At some point they drift off to sleep, when they wake up, they're not necessarily cuddled together but Yazmin's arm is slung over his stomach.

He thinks to himself, this isn't too bad, and just that little thought alone makes him feel like he may not be as lost of a cause as he sometimes feels.

-

Yazmin and him stayed friends after they 'broke up' and she never spoke a word about what happened that night and to her, he'll always be eternally grateful that kind, understanding people exist.

The summer before college, he realized that he needed to actually take the time to explore his sexuality through research instead of continuing a pity party for himself.

He could narrow down that he wasn't entirely straight because the idea of him being in love with someone other than a female didn't sound obscure or unappealing to him.

He didn’t think it mattered who he fell in love with, it wouldn’t be purely based on their gender.

The idea of sex didn't repusle him, he wanted to have sex and he knew that he wasn't asexual.

He wanted to have a partner and have sex.

That's when it stuck with him.

Everytime he thought about having sex with someone, it was a partner, someone he was in a strong romantic relationship with - but he didn't think that was a specific sexuality.

One day, he's watching some reality television show, and when they're introducing the contestants - someone on the screen identifies themselves as demisexual.

He'd never heard that term before and he curiously puts it into the search engine on his phone to figure out the definition.

That's when he reads the definition that changes it all.

"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in whcih a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotion with them."

Harry felt like he was having an epiphany and that the world fell still for a moment - it was like finding the puzzle piece he had been missing for years of his life.

It finally fucking made sense.

It made so much sense that he started crying, full on sobbing as he held his head with disbelief that something clicked.

Anne, who was in the kitchen, making dinner, hears the sniffles and rushes in, concerned when she finds her son crying which was completely out of the norm.

"Harry, honey," Anne coos softly, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair off his forehead before wrapping her arm around his shoulders, "What's gotten you so upset?"

"M'not upset, mom," Harry chuckles as she tries to wipe away some of his tears with the sleeve of her shirt, "I just-, I don't know how you'll react when I tell you."

"Is it bad?" Anne asks worriedl,  tugging him in closer like he was still a little boy and not a big, tall athlete that was way larger than her.

"I-I'm, it's about me," Harry stutters, his thoughts now racing for a different reason, this wasn't on how he planned to tell his mother any of this but he didn't want to lie to her either.

He wanted to be himself and he wanted his family to know who he is.

"I've been struggling with, erm, who I am for a really really long time," Harry begins, his eyes glued to his feet, "And I..I finally figured it out."

"I'll love you no matter what you're going to tell me, Harry Edward,” Anne says firmly, tilting his chin so that their eyes meet and he can tell how serious she is.

"I'm pansexul and demisexual," Harry breathes out, saying it into the unvierse for the first time, it felt like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest, "It means that I am attracted to people regardless of their gender and that I'm only sexually attracted to that  person after we established a emotional bond.”

"How long have you known?" Anne asks as she holds him closer.

"I-I've known that I wasn't st-straight for a long time but I-I didn't know what exactly I was until now," Harry stutters out through tears, Anne can't remember the last time she saw her son cry and his face was damp with emotion.

"I am so proud of you," Anne murmurs but her voice was firm and serious, she moves to cup his cheeks until he's making eye contact with her, "So so proud of who you are."

"Y-You're proud of me?" Harry repeats back in a whisper, his heart felt like it was beating fast enough it was going to leap out of his chest.

"Of course I am," She laughs softly, like it was ridiculous that he could think that she wouldn't be filled with pride, "I love you so much. My little boy."

She kisses both of his cheeks before wiping the tears away once more.

Anne isn't expecting it when Harry hugs her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder as he hides away for a moment.

She rubs his back lightly and just holds him as he sniffles, she hadn't cuddled him like this is so long but he clung to her for a long while as she whispered words of love.

-

Gemma is the second person that he decides that he needs to come out - he's not as worried about her reaction as his mum but it still wasn't going to be fun for him.

She had gotten home from work and disappeared into her room to most likely working on college homework like she did nearly everyday.

Harry knocks and when she calls for him to come in, he's sheepish as he comes to sit on her bed next to where she has her textbooks splayed out.

"I have something to tell you," Harry starts off after taking a deep inhale of breath, why was he so nervous? It was just Gemma.

But everyone reacts differently, people he think would be supportive of him may not agree with it and give him pushback or worse disown him.

He was nervous because he couldn't lose his sister but he also couldn't stand not living his truth any longer.

"If you took my laptop charger one more time and broke it, I swear to -" She begins with a frown as she closes her book to glare at him.

"No, it's...well," Harry begins to trip over what he wants to say and now maybe isn't the right time, maybe he should think it through more than this, "Forget about it."

Gemma realizes quickly that something isn't right, she reaches out to grab his arm and tug him back down, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I have something that I want to tell you," He reiterates with a sigh, "I just don't know how you'll feel about it."

Harry explains what he had explained earlier to his mother to her, she listens intently and doesn't try to crack any jokes while he's speaking.

After he's done with what he feels like is rambling, he hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze.

"How did you think I would feel?" Is the first thing she asks.

Harry's brow furrows in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You said you were worried about how I would feel about you telling me," Gemma explains from before he told her.

"Ju-Just that you'd be disappointed in me," Harry hates that he's been crying so much lately but he begins to sniffle.

"Oh, Harry," Gemma titters, swiping her school things off the bed so she can drag him into a hug, just like his mother did, "I would never be disappointed in you for being who you are. I love you. I'm happy that you finally feel like you've figured it out."

"I hope I find someone," Harry chuckles, wiping his face on his hoodie, "I hope I find someone who will understand, that I'll be able to fall in love with and have a normal relationship."

"It will happen," Gemma hums as she pulls back, "Just like with you figuring this out. It won't happen overnight. Now get out, I have to study."

-

It really doesn't happen overnight or anytime soon.

He will say that getting in to college and knowing his sexuality even if he hadn't been with anyone had let him slip back into the cocky role that he was used to.

Harry had no problem flirting with girls and guys at frat parties to keep up appearances - even though he wasn't interested in sleeping with them.

It kept his teammates from questioning him because when they saw him at parties, giving a girl his million dollar smile and telling her she's cute - they figured he was sleeping with them.

He didn't enjoy going to parties because it was only fun to fake flirt for a little bit before he wanted to leave because people were trying to get him alone in a bedroom.

Luckily, baseball and sponsorships took up a majority of him time so he wasn't expected at many frat celebrations with how rigorous his workouts and training schedule were.

Tonight though, he didn't have an excuse to not come because they had three days off that weekend.

Everyone convinced him to come, it wasn't a bad time really but he couldn't drink because he'd be kicked off the team  if he got hit with an underage drinking fine.

(They definitely wouldn't kick their star player off the team but he would be in deep shit and would much rather avoid that.)

Harry had been trying to get to know people on campus, trying to create the emotional attachment that he was searching for but it wasn't easy.

It felt fucking impossible.

He learned very quickly that he couldn 't just will it to magically happen and that he has issues building those bonds with anyone.

There was a girl named Halee who he had been talking to for the past few weeks, they met in one of his statistics classes and he tried to make an effort with her.

He took her out to dinner twice, listened to her talk for ages, and he waited to feel the spark after consistently seeing her for a month.

There was nothing there.

She was at the party tonight, they hadn't gone any further than making out because Harry didn't want to force himself to do that. 

Halee manages to get him alone in his frat bedroom later that night, stating that she needed to talk to him alone, and he knows it’s bad that he’s hoping she wants to break up.

But when his bedroom door shut, her lips were on his and she was pushing him back towards the bed - the exact opposite of what he wanted.

When he falls backwards onto his bed, she's crawling on top of him to straddle him, never taking her lips from his as her thighs come onto either side of him.

Harry's hands come to her hips, knowing he should try to enjoy it but also that it was no use despite how hard she grinded her hips into his.

After a few minutes, she pulls back and palms at him - completely expecting to find him hard and ready for her but...nothing.

He's not hard.

Halle gives him a confused look, she'd never had an issue with a college guy’s libido before, and she knew she was attractive.

Harry can feel his face turning red with shame but manages to give her a reasonable lie, "I think it's just because I've drank so much. I'm pretty wasted."

That seems to satisfy her concern because she giggles and drags him back to the party, promising that they can try again when they haven't been drinking so much.

However, he knows that's not going to happen because he fully plans on sending her an 'im sorry, its just not working out' text tomorrow morning.

Harry doesn't stay at the party much longer before he's retreating up to his room and locking the door to shut everyone out.

Sure, he's become more acepting of his own sexuality but it doesn't mean that it doesn't fucking suck that he can't just have a casual hook up.

The fact is the only sexual interactions he's had are where girls are coming onto him, he has to make an excuse or they'll see he's not physically into it which makes everything ten times worse.

Harry feels that sinking feeling coming back that he remembers well from his senior year of high school.

He remembers thinking that because he finally identified what sexuality he was that it was the code to cracking his life long struggle.

He wonders often whether he's truly waiting to meet the right person or if it's just something that is wrong with him.

The fake flirting, turning people down who come onto him, dating people he has no real interest in.

At some point it doesn't feel worth it to try to find his person , he wonders if there just isn't a person for him and that's a really lonely thought.

-

(Take The Hint) - One Shot

This girl makes him want to scream.

He didn't mean to break her fucking ipad and she has the nerve to run to the school newspaper and write an article about him.

He had apologized when it happened but she hadn't been willing to accept it, that wasn't his fault.

Harry had never had such a critique in a school paper before and he wasn't going to stand for it.

He doesn't know why he feels the need to go back and forth with this journalist from the paper but he can't stay away.

After their back and forths, he finds himself bringing her food a few times to the newspaper's office after he gets done with a long day of training.

Harry's intruigued that this girl doesn't seem to give a fuck about who he is and really hasn't given him the time of day.

But he finds himself looking forward to picking up a sandwich for her so that she can try to refuse it and give him a shy smile when he doesn't take no for an answer.

It sounds a bit dumb, Harry has spent so much of his time worried about finding the right person or building this emotional bond that he fucking misses it when it's right in front of him.

When YN walks out onto the field that day, leans over the fence and connects their lips for the first time - his insides feel like they're going to combust.

His stomach feels warm with excitement, he's eager to kiss her back, he wants to kiss her back and not stop for anything.

When she pulls away, he wants to pull her back, and join their lips again - he's never wanted to do that before.

Then when she asks, "Are you going to ask me out or what?"

Holy fucking hell.

He has never said yes sooner.

Harry was an idiot.

He didn't see that their back and forth over the past few months (even if a few of those were fights) was flirting and building this god damn connection.

It didn't seem like it at the time because in the past, he had to make conscious efforts to build relationships.

It happened naturally with her, he didn't have to think about 'wanting' to kiss her, forcing time together - he wanted to do all those things without having to plan it.

As he's walking back to the frat from practice that night, his mind is racing because he thinks he might have finally done it.

He found his person.

Harry didn't want to give his hopes up but he just hasn't felt like this before - he's had hundreds of opportunities with the smartest, most attractive people and he's never gotten that warm feeling in his stomach around any of them.

He was thinking about the next time he would get to kiss her and really kiss her - it made him feel something new but it was thrilling.

-

Harry has never felt more nervous in his life, he'd changed his outfit at least five times, and fluffed his hair a hundred more.

It was funny, outside looking in, despite how cocky Harry appeared to everyone - he really wasn't like that at all.

He hoped that YN would like him and he was worried because even though she forgave him, they really didn’t get off on the right foot.

There was another anxious thought bubbling up, what if he's getting too excited and it is another relationship that falls flat.

Harry nearly wants to back out because he doesn't think he can be let down like that again - he just wants to be loved and love someone.

They're set to meet at a small italian restaurant off of campus, Lorenzo's, and Harry arrives first.

Shet not there yet but he's also a few minutes early, he's trying to talk himself out of a nervous breakdown when a group approaches him, a group of middle-aged men who want to talk to the Harry Styles.

Harry smiles politely, answering questions about the upcoming games, and what he thought of their last win.

When they finally bid him goodbye after a few minutes, the group disperse and waiting patiently is YN with a small smile.

"You're really popular, huh? The Harry Styles," She greets, it was teasing but not in a mean way more curious than anything.

And Harry's mouth felt dry because she looked fucking beautiful like the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

In a form-fitting orange dress, her skin tone was complimenting the vibrant color and her curves were other worldly. ***

Harry knows, absolutely knows he wasn't just trying to make this work, he was undoubtedly attractive to her.

It was the fact that he wanted to see what lay beneath the dress, the way her breasts sat made it hard to control his gaze.

More importantly, her smile was wide and heartbreakingly gorgeous as she stared a bit confused, waiting for him to say something.

"You are gorgeous," Harry manages, it wasn't a line, it was the truth, "Sorry, you took my breath away for a moment if I'm being honest."

YN lets out a shy giggle, her hands smoothing the sides of her dress as a nervous tick, as she steps closer to him.

"You don't look too bad yourself, quite handsome actually," YN compliments, reaching out for Harry's hand so he can guide them inside.

The cocky attitude drops over dinner, well it never appeared in the first place, and YN was appreciative of that.

YN was intelligent, funny, kind, and quite honestly, everything Harry's ever wanted as she snorts out her drink at a dumb joke he makes.

She kicks off heels halfway through the appetizer and rests her foot on his thigh like they've known each other for ages.

He can't help but reach down and squeeze her ankle, fingers dancing along the ridge of the bone, and laughing when he tickles her enough to make her squeak.

For the first time, it doesn't feel forced, he doesn't have to remember that he should want to touch his date.

Harry is interested in everything she has to say from her experience on the newspaper to how she accidentally broke into a museum while she was in high school.

He finds himself laughing genuinely, not counting down the minutes until the date is over, in fact, he doesn't want it to end.

"You're actually a nice guy," YN murmurs towards the end of dinner when their plates are near empty, "Who would have guessed."

Harry winces at the dig, putting his silverware down and looking at her seriously, "I am sorry about how I treated you. I was being a douche. I don't always feel like I have a lot going for me and baseball is what I'm good at and to have that article written was a hit on my ego."

It was the most honest he's ever been with someone but he didn't even think twice about revealing his most vulnerable thoughts to her.

YN's face twist in confusion, "What do you mean you don't have a lot going for you? You have a guarantee in going pro, you have a ton of friends, and you have no shortages of girls around you."

Harry knew he wasn't ready to delve into his sexuality conversation with her, he hasn't ever talked to anyone outside of his family and Niall about it.

Instead of admitting what really makes him feel low - his sexuality and lack of relationships, he just shrugs and says, "I don't know. It's just..It's not alway easy."

"I imagine, it's a lot of pressure on you at all times. Everyone watching your every move," She agrees, her eyes are soft and she can tell Harry's thinking about something.

She doesn't force him to tell her, instead she reaches across the table for his hand and takes it in hers - but she doesn't let go.

Throughout dessert, they hold hands across the table until Harry is feeding YN a piece of strawberry cheesecake and it ends up on her lips instead of in her mouth.

"You did that on purpose," YN laughs, her tongue peeking out to wipe the sweetness away but misses the corner of her lips.

"Missed a spot," Harry chuckles, he leans over to wipe it off with his thumb and when he does, she takes his thumb in her mouth - just for a mere moment to lick it off with a cheeky smile.

Harry feels himself actually start to harden in his pants and he almost wants to panic because that's never happened before - even when girls have tried way more sexy things to get his attention.

It had been a simple but intimate gesture, it wasn't even groundbreaking to YN, she went back to eating her gelato without another thought about the interaction.

Harry had to will himself to calm down, his mind racing to her plump lips and the way it wrapped around his thumb.

If he had any doubt that YN was his person, it was completely gone now - he hadn't even known her long but to say he was infatuated with her was an understatement.

He couldn't find one thing about her that he didn't like from her beauty to her intellect to the way she giggles with a little snort when something was extra funny.

It felt like his world was shaping to revolve around hers but that scared him on the same end that he hadn't known her that long - their emotional connection was just that strong.

After the date, Harry offers to walk her home because she lives in the campus dorms - just like at dinner, very soon into the walk she takes off her heels and shoves them in her purse.

Harry doesn't know if he should make a move, this was all so fucking new, and he felt like he was years behind on what he should know, basics about dates.

YN wasn't hesitant or coy, she quickly intertwined their hands as they walk, bumping shoulders as she points out where her classes are at certain buildings and what she hates about some of her awful professors.

Harry wants to cry because it's just so nice to hold someones fucking hand, that's all he's wanted for so long.

When they arrive at her building, YN digs out her keycard, giving him a pouty expression, "I'm sad our date’s over. I really did have a good time."

"I had an amazing time," Harry tells her seriously, "Will you go out with me again?"

YN squints up at him, with puckered lips, "I'll have to think about it."

Harry's heart drops.

"Oh my god," YN bursts out laughing, "Your face. Of course, I'll go on another date with you, I had fun."

"S'not funny," Harry mumbles grumply as she giggles at his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," YN hums, stepping into his space and leaning up until their lips meet.

Harry's frozen for a moment, it feels like sparks, like everything finally makes sense but he doesn't realize that he actually physically froze because YN is pulling back.

"Shit, I'm sorry I though-" She begins to apologize profusely, thinking she read the situation wrong.

Harry takes a deep breath, channeling his confidence, and he steps forward into her space now - hands coming to cup her face and bring their lips together passionately.

Their lips move in perfect synchronization, his tongue swiping against her lips until she opens, and he can get entrance.

Her hand comes up to his neck, keeping him close as they kiss, it feels like his first real kiss, and he can't get enough.

When they finally pull back for air, her lips are swollen and she has a starry-eyed smile on her face.

"Goodnight, Harry," YN murmurs softly, pecking his lips one last time before swiping her card and going into her building.

Fucking hell, he was gone for her.

-

He could not stop thinking about her.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes squinted when she was teasing him - this had to be what being in love felt like.

Could it be this easy?

As soon as he gets home, he sends her a text.

Thanks for giving me a chance. I really had a great time. Are you free next Friday?

It barely takes any time for her to respond and he finds his lips turning down at her response.

Are you fucking with me?

He decides to take the more cautious route, reading his text conversation, and he doesn't think he said anything wrong.

No? Did I offend you??

Yes.

As soon as he receives the message he's typing out an apology for whatever he might have said to trigger her to be upset but right before he hits send, another text pops in.

Offended you're not asking me to hang out sooner.

Harry totally does not squeal like a school girl as he smiles stupidly at his phone for the next few moments before remebering to actually text back.

I have a game tomorrow and Sunday but we could hang out Monday night x

They agree on that.

-

When the next day comes, he feels more energized than ever to do good on the field today - he always thrived but YN was really boosting his confidence and overall happiness.

He struts on to the field, he always displayed arrogance on the field no matter how he was feeling on the inside - he wanted to intimidate people and let them know that he's the best.

At the mound, he kicks the dirt a bit and adjusts his hat in a little ritual he always did before scanning the crowd - it was always a full house in the stadiums because of him.

His eyes do a quick skim of the crowd but stop when he's sees YN sitting in the stands without her iPad or notepad - she's sitting with a friend.

Harry's heart leaps as he gives a dimply smile that was exclusively for and he tips his cap towards her in greeting.

She blows him an exaggerated kiss and a small wave as the announcers begin the game.

Harry doesn't know if he's ever had a game that good - he had been on fire the whole time, multiple strikeouts, a home-run, and overall good plays.

When the game’s over after the post-game interview and compliments, instead of heading straight to the showers, he wants to talk to YN but she's no longer in the stands.

He tries not to think too hard about it as he goes into the locker room to shower, in a noticeable less than happy mood.

Harry's actually the last one out, he drags his feet getting into the showers, and lets the hot water just hit against his sore muscles.

By the time he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and stepping over to his duffel - he nearly screams when someone appears in the locker-room.

"What's taking you so long? I've been waiting out there for ages," YN complains with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on her face when she's met with his strong, damp chest - his pec twitches.

"Er," Harry stammers as he stares wide eyed at her, "I didn't think you were waiting for me."

YN shakes her head, "Why wouldn't I? Am I being too subtle about dropping hints that I like you?"

Harry’s chest seizes because he doesn't want her to think that, "No no, it's me. M'sorry I'm fucking this up. I just, yeah..."

I just can't tell you why yet. 

Be patient with me.

"I know you've been with a lot of people, okay? I'm not here to use you and lose you. I want to see where this goes," YN seems frustrated as she explains herself.

"I do too. M'sorry," He apologizes again, the opposite of the cocky asshole she met, "I'm really, really into you."

And you're the first person I've said that to without lying.

"Yeah?" Her words are quiet, bashful as she glances down at her feet for a moment, like she wanted to hear the affirmations from him.

"Of course, you're gorgeous, smart, out of my league, if I'm being honest," He tells her with a raspy chuckle.

"I think you have it backwards," YN murmurs but she's walking towards him, and just like yesterday, kisses him fiercely.

God, he's never going to get tired of this.

He instantly reciprocates her advance, hand moving to the back of her head to cradle her skull and keep her close.

His stomach muscles twitch when her hand comes to his chest, rubbing up and down his abdominal definition, and thumb teasing at his happy trail.

It indescribable how just the simple touch is turning him on, he can feel himself harden at the movement and he can't help but push his tongue into her mouth.

They get startled when a janitor steps into the lockeroom, a tired look on his face when he spots them, "I'm locking up. Get lost, kids."

YN giggles as Harry flushed with embarrassment before she's leaving him to get changed and waiting outside for him to walk her home.

-

The next three weeks were an absolute whirlwind of hanging out in YN's dorm room cuddled together on the tiny bed, watching movies in his room in the frat, Harry stopping by the newspaper office constantly after practice to make sure she ate and then walkingher home, and then on the weekends they were going on dates and YN was coming to watch his games.

He knew that he was in love, he didn't care what anyone had to say about a certain amount of time it took or it was too soon.

Harry had found his person.

The puzzle piece that was missing his whole entire life was wrapped up in a gorgeous girl who bullied him, cuddled him, and gave him attitude when she didn't get her way.

He couldn't imagine anyone better.

There was one major issue, Harry had yet to tell her about his sexuality or the fact that he was a virgin.

He didn't blame her for making assumptions that he had a high body count with the way he flirted at parties - that was in fact the appearance that he was trying to give off even though it was further from the truth.

Harry wanted to tell her but when revealing that he was demisexual that was also telling her that he was head over heels for her.

And even though YN seemed nothing but understanding and accepting, it's different when you're in a relationship with the person.

She doesn't know whether it would matter if he was pansexual, if it would freak her out that he wasn't soley attracted to females.

As much fun as he was having, enjoying this new relationship, there was a lot of anxiety - he hadn't felt this much weight on his chest since high school with Yazmin and prom.

They hadn't gone further than kisses but it wasn't because of lack of arousal, he was so attractive to her that it didn't make sense.

However, up to this point, she hadn't pushed to do anything further than that and he wasn't ready to take the first step either.

It's a standoff until it's not.

YN and Harry are in his frat, they prefered it there for his queen size bed and he had a bigger television that they could binge watch shows on.

It was after a mid-week game, they had done exceptional, and Harry was truly convinced that YN was his good luck charm.

It was late, they both had class tomorrow but YN was sleeping over for the first time because Harry couldn't part with her.

They were in the middle of watching Great British Bake-Off and critiquing their bakes like either of them could do anything close to as good.

YN is tucked into his side, head of his chest but she squirms until she's looking up at him with a frown.

"Whassit?" Harry rumbles as he blinks heavily, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face - he couldn't get over how fucking pretty she was.

"Didn't kiss me enough today," YN huffs like she just realized the problem, her bottom lip pouted out.

"Didn't give you enough kisses, huh?" Harry repeats with a raised brow, his thumb coming to pull at her lower lip, "I haven't been very good to you, have I?"

"Absolutely awful boyfriend," YN agrees and everytime she refers to him as that, his stomach flutters.

"Or maybe I've just given it to you too much so now you're a demanding lil' thing," He hums but he's pulling her up so that their lips meet.

Harry can't help that he gets hard everytime they make out, maybe it’s a rookie thing or maybe most guys that's normal for - he wasn't sure.

But Harry and YN had never acknowledged it and as weird as it sounded - it felt good to get hard even if there wasn't relief at that time because it’s more  pleasure and arousal than he's ever felt.

There was no way he wasn’t truly fucked - this girl held everything in her hands, she had so much fucking control over it and she didn't have one fucking clue.

YN's hand is rested on his stomach but at some point she moves it, she moves it right over his bulge in his nike running shorts, and palms at him.

Harry moans embarrassingly loud and sucks in a gasp at the sensation of someone else touching him like this for the first time.

YN pulls back startled like she hurt him and begins to apologize because of his visceral reaction but Harry joins their lips needily before murmuring, "Please baby, don't stop."

"Okay, whatever you want," She simpers quietly, her lips coming to his neck to kiss and nip at the skin as she feels out the shape of him over his thin shorts - thick and ready for her.

Harry is trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so new and euphoric that his lids are heavy as she thumbs over the sensitive tip.

"Take your shirt off," YN requests, not taking her hand off as he rustles hurriedly to get it over his head, "Slow down, we're not in a rush."

It was lightly teasing but it made insecurities tick a bit because he didn't want to embarass himself in his first sexual experience.

His stomach is sucking in at every other touch, his butterfly tattoo dancing as his ribcage outlines against his skin.

Her hand lazily moves upwards again but is taking the liberty of dipping into his shorts and briefs.

He twitches when her hand wraps around him, thumb tracing along the vein on the underside before circling at his already wet tip.

"M'gonna take my time with you," YN promises as she helps him slip the rest of his clothes off, her eyes locking with where he's hard for her.

He feels self-conscious, the first person to see this part of him in this intimate way - it was the most vulnerable he ever felt.

"You're so pretty," She murmurs happily as she begins to give him light strokes, "Makes sense why you have big dick energy. You're massive."

He has to clench his teeth to avoid coming at her words because it was all too much as he kept his hips on the mattress as she twists and tugs with the perfect amount of pressure.

"I-It feels so good, baby," Harry breathes out, he's on the verge of panting when her hand comes to roll his balls delicately.

"Yeah?" YN muses with a devious smile before she's ducking down to lick at the swollen head before suckling at it.

"Fuck, m'sorry," Harry groans as he feels his orgasm start, "S'good, you're so good. Fuck, you're amazin, sweetheart."

He can tell YN is a bit taken aback by his lack of stamina but she swallows as he pulses in her mouth.

When she sits back up, Harry is trying to catch his breath, "I'm so sorry. I just-"

"Stop apologizing," YN tells him firmly, leaning over to pepper kisses over his chest and tummy, "That was perfect. You look so handsome when you come."

Harry preens at the praise, he knows she’s probably just making sure he doesn't fell bad but it seemed genuine.

"Let me take care of you," Harry says after a few more moments, he knew his cheeks were flushed and his chest red with a blush of postorgasm haze and embarassment, what a mixture.

"You any good at it?" She jokes as she playfully licks his nipple before moving to take her own shirt off.

Harry freezes, he knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights before quickly wiping it off his face.

He doesn't respond but instead knocks her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head himself.

Her breasts were fucking perfect where they sat in a plain black bra with a little lace detailing on the edge of the cups.

Harry didn't know if he would survive this, he felt like a  stupid teeanger as his hands were shaking with nerves.

This was more nerve-wracking then when he played in the playoffs for baseball or when a college scout came to watch his game.

He sits up and rearranges them until she's laying on her back and he's on top where he feels like he has a bit more control of the situation.

By some grace of god, YN's bra unlatches with a front clip and when he undoes it, it falls to either side and her tits bounce out.

"Holy shit, darling," Harry huffs out in awe, her nipples were already hard and so fucking pretty.

"What?" YN asks in a mere whisper, when he looks up at her - his heart sinks because he was so focused on himself that he didn't even think about how she might be feeling.

It was obvious that YN was a bit nervous too as he revealed her like he might not like how she looks - she’s squirmy and doesn't look him in the eye.

"How are you so fucking beautiful?" Harry shakes his head in disbelief, moving to cup them and they're soft in grip, warm, and good god, he's in love with them already, "Look at you, s'unfair."

YN lets out a pleased giggle and Harry can't wait any longer, he's fucking down to wrap his lips around one of the buds and suckle as his other hand rolls her other nipple.

"Oo-oh," She gasps out, pushing her chest into him, and he was sure that he wanted to hear her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life.

She was responsive to his touch, whimpering and asking for more through her body language as he switched between them and teased them until they were damp and puffy.

"Please, H. I'm so wet," YN begs as her hips move in frustration, her hand weaving into his hair and scratching at his scalp.

"You're wet for me?" Harry pulls back, their eyes meeting and he couldn't believe - he was turning her on even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

"Stop teasing me," She demands with a pout.

He really wasn't.

Harry felt like he was in a movie in a way.

He dreamed about this for so long.

Being so in love with someone that he would want to have sex with them.

It happened and it was happening right now.

If it didn't feel so good, he wouldn't believe it.

Harry may or may not have utilized the internet to search about how to please a female.

He hadn't wanted to come into this and not be able to return the favor - it wasn't that he was uneducated about sex or didn't know the logistics of how to do it.

He didn't want it to be just okay.

He wants to show her how much he's truly gone for her by making her feel the same pleasure she's give  to him.

Harry takes his time kissing down her soft belly, biting at the plush on her hips to make her squeak before he's shimmying her shorts and underwear off.

Harry has never felt so primal in his life when he's met with her mound and puffy folds, glistening with arousal, and he wanted to devour her.

The hesitance is gone as soon as he sees her for the first time.

He's spreading her legs and nuzzling straight in between her folds, lapping at her with excited, eager strokes.

Fuck, she even tasted good.

"Harry, fuck," YN mewls when he finds her clit, it wasn't hard with how swollen and hard it was for him - dragging it between his lips and suctioned it.

Her legs are restless like she wants to close them, her hands balling into the sheets as he relentlessly goes at her.

"Oh my god," She gasps as she bucks upwards, trying to ride his tongue - it was by far the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. 

He couldn't believe he was actually doing a good job his first time, he knew she was actually close because he could feel her throbbing and getting wetter for him.

Her hands move to his hair, gripping it to keep him close to her center as she punches her hips up to find the friction she needs - it was beautiful watching her chase her pleasure without any shame.

He wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life and he knew it wasn't just the sex talking at this point.

She was it for him.

His chest swells in pride when she finally tips over the edge, a continuous stream of soft whining moans out of her mouth as her hips slow down and rest back against the bed - her limbs loosening.

Her face was damp with perspiration, long locks stuck to the side of her neck, and her chest was heaving and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.

"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," YN murmurs in awe, goading him back up until they’re kissing in short little pecks and he's brushing that sticky hair off her skin, "You're so good at that."

Harry's internally preening with the compliment, thrilled that he was able to get her off the first time ever doing something like this.

It was dangerous though, he knew already that he was going to crave her, she tasted amazing, it was addictive to be around her.

Everything from her smile to her laugh to the way her folds glistened with her arousal - it was all consuming.

-

Harry knows the longer they're seeing each other that he needs to tell her but the second he tells her about his sexuality, he's basically confessing his love to her.

He begins to feel like he's living this lie because YN occasionally makes a joke about how experienced he is or how many people he'd been with and he doesn't ever deny it.

To be fair, he never confirms it either but that even feels like lying. 

One day while they're at lunch in a little bistro on campus, tucked away in the corner so people don't continuously harass Harry like always.

"I..I shouldn't be surprised at how good you were," YN murmurs shyly, they were talking about last night and when he used his mouth for the first time, "It's just...for me, I've only been with two other guys and it wasn't at all like that."

"They sound like idiots who didn't deserve to give it to you anyways," Harry has to swallow down the possessiveness of two other people having her like that.

She was his.

YN shrugs noncommittal as she sips on her peach tea, "They were okay but not as experienced as you. They hadn't been able to make me, you know...finish."

Cue his chest swelling with pride once again.

YN glances down at her plate, suddenly not making eye contact with Harry and he frowns at that, "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, letting out a short laugh, "I just feel embarrassed, I guess. I know that I don't have as much experience as you. I've heard the stories of you taking all those girls upstairs at parties. It's not, it doesn't bother me but I...I just worry I'm not going to be good enough or compare."

Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he knows now would be the absolutely perfect time to actually come clean that all those experiences were fake.

He chokes though, his throat tightens up and he can't find the words but he can reassure her, and he's not lying when he tells her, "Hey, I've never had a better experience than last night and m'not lying. You were amazing, fuckin' perfect. I can still taste how sweet you-"

"Ssh," YN giggles, the mood already lightened again as she chucks a chip at him because she doesn't know if anyone is eavesdropping, "I get it. Thank you."

"Anytime, babydoll," Harry drawls cheekily, exerting confidence when inside he's absolutely panicking.

-

Tonight it is the night.

Harry has nearly canceled three times because he doesn't know if he can do this.

He's so fucking in love with YN.

So fucking gone for her already that he doesn't know how he could lose her if this isn't something she's okay with.

Logically, he knows that if she doesn't accept him for who he is that she's not worth his time but fuck, he loved her.

YN was it for him, he didn't care how early it was or if you’re ot supposed to say that yet because they haven't been together long.

It was the truth though.

Harry wanted to try to make it as casual as possible when he brought it up so he invited her to sleepover after an away game.

He'd organized his room, cleaned his sheets, bought her favorite snacks, and laid out a shirt that she'd want to sleep in.

When she knocked on his bedroom door, one of his mates must have let her in, his hands were physically shaking and his smile was forced through nerves.

"Hi," YN huffs as she brushes past him to drop her overnight bag, "I brought a bag of chips but Niall literally stole them out of my hand and ran away like a little goblin -"

"I have something I need to tell you," Harry blurts out as he quickly shuts the door and leans up against it - he felt like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.

YN freezes from her rant, eyes meeting his with concern at his behavior and his body language, "Is everything okay, H?"

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tries to breathe out of his mouth, voice quaking, "I-I don't know."

Fuck, why did he feel like he was going to cry.

"Harry," YN murmurs from where she's sat on his bed now, "You're freaking me out a bit. What's going on?"

"I haven't told you something, important about me," Harry sniffles, he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and he felt like that scared high schooler all over again, "And I'm scared you won't want to be with me if I tell you."

YN's brow furrows, she doesn't know how to respond because she doesn't know what he's been hiding from her.

"Tell me," She asks softly, her heart was pounding too - she didn't know if he was going to break up with her or tell her he already cheated but she was worried just as much as he was.

"M'not straight," Harry finally whispers, looking down at his feet and avoiding her gaze all together, "I'm pansexual and demisexual. I haven’t been with anyone other than you, ever. God, I know I sound like such a fucking loser."

"Come here," YN responds firmly, her eyes serious and he can't read her expression which makes everything worse as he cries, sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.

He listens though, cautiously walking until he's in front of her - eyes still looking anywhere but at her.

"Look at me," YN prompts once again, waiting until his watering green eyes finally meet hers, "I love you, no matter what your sexual preference is or how many people you've been with."

"You-You love me?" Harry stutters out with another sob, he felt like such a baby but his heart was fluttering and butterflies were turning his stomach.

"I thought I've made it obvious but yes, I do," YN smiles sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him despite his damp cheeks, "I love you as you are. I accept you as you are. You're perfect."

Harry blinks away his tears, letting her cup his jaw and bring him in for short but soft pecks over and over again.

"I know what pansexual is," YN says against his mouth before pulling back a little, "I don't know what demisexual is."

After Harry gets done explaining to her what his sexuality means to him, what he defines as being demi sexual - he's alarmed when he notices tears in YN's eyes now.

"I'm- Are you-" Harry begins to ask but she cuts him off.

"I'm your person?" YN repeats his words from earlier, she sounds like she’s a bit in disbelief that this is all happening.

"You’re my person," Harry agrees, kissing her forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, "I'm so in love with you. It's only ever been you. Only ever will be."

"I love you," YN gasps against his lips, bringing him in for another kiss but this time it's more heated with more purpose behind it as she pulls him down on top of her.

YN and Harry are equally frantic as they tug off each other's shirts, lips wandering over bare skin, and YN whines loudly when his lips wrap around her nipples and suck at them.

She's hurriedly pushing his shorts and briefs off his hips before allowing him to nearly rip her panties with the eagerness to have her bare.

As Harry's mouth teases at her breasts, switching between harden buds and nipping at them - her hands are twined tightly in his hair and holding him to her.

His cock is painfully hard, wet at the tip as he grinds it against her mound - the friction already good.

On one thrust, his length slips through her folds and his swollen head is pumping at her clit - making them both let out a surprised moan at the sensation.

"Need it," YN whines as he pumps his hips, the wet slide against her core was new to him but it felt like heaven, "Please, H."

And he knew what she was asking, he wanted to give it to her but he was scared that it wasn't going to be good.

"It's my first time," Harry mumbles embarrassedly, even though he had already admitted that to her, "I don't know how long I'll last,"

YN wriggles her hips, hissing in pleasure when his cock drags against her slit, teasing at pushing in before pulling away. 

"It's okay, baby," She assures him, petting at his hair, "I just want you, please. I don't care how long you last, just want you. Want to make you mine."

Want to make you mine.

Holy fucking shit.

"Yeah," Harry rasps, voice deeper than ever, feeling a building up in confidence at how bad she wanted him right now.

He was so used to being the best at everything.

He was the best baseball player in the college leagues.

He was the best pitcher to ever attend Duke.

He was the first person to get an MLB draft pick before graduation.

He wasn't used to not being confident in hai abilities but he truly felt the love radiating from YN and knew that she just wanted him however she could get him.

Harry takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he grips himself, positioning at her entrance, and when he pushes in - he knows he moans loud enough that the whole house will be able to hear him.

"Shit, baby," Harry mewls as he drops his head down to take a deep breath before moving, "You feel so good. Fuckin' hell."

"H, move please," YN begs as she wraps her legs around his hips, "You're so big. Feels amazing, please honey."

Harry nods, one more deep breath before he's pulling out nearly to his tip before thrusting back in - the hot, velvet of her walls squeezing him and it was surely what euphoria felt like.

He can feel his orgasm already brimming over and it couldn't have been more than a minute or two - between the feeling around his cock, how pretty the noises she's making are, and the way her tits jiggle with every stroke - he can't last.

"M'sorry," Harry groans as his stomach starts to tense, "M'coming, you feel so good. You're gonna make me come."

With that, he's speeding up and pounding in harder than before - YN’s hand reaches down to rub expertly at her clit until she's clenching up around him and whimpering as her thighs shake.

Harry pulls out after a moment, ducking to grab his discarded tee shirt to clean them both up - he knows his cheeks are twinged pink with embarrassment.

"Hey," YN giggles, grabbing his attention and squishing his cheeks between her hands as she grips his chin, "Don't get all shy on me now."

"M'not being shy," Harry pouts as his words are muffled from his cheeks being smooshed, "I just look like a dickhead, I just came in a fuckin' minute."

YN rolls her eyes, fuck she's so pretty, her skin was literally glowing, "So what? Just means we get to practice more."

Harry chuckles, already feeling the tension ease form his chest, "For the rest of our lives. I only want this with you, ever. My body is yours."

"And I will always love it," YN murmurs more seriously, forehead pressed against his, "I love you for you. I accept you for you. You’re perfect and you're enough."

And after this, Harry never ever doubts that YN is the one for him - not in a few days or a decade when they're married and have four little babies running around that look just like him.

-

You are never alone.

There is always someone ready to listen, there is no struggle too little or too big.

The world needs you here.

Trans Crisis Line

LGBTQIA+ Crisis Talk, Chat, or Text

#harry styles writing #harry styles #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #mlb!verse #mlb!harry masterlist #mlb!harry blurbs #mlbrry #erodasfishtacos masterlist #harry styles imagine #husband!harry #harry styles husband #frat boy harry #boyfriend harry styles #demi #coming out fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing request #patreon #harry styles angst #don’t worry darling

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

Trans Femme-Stevie where she transitions after graduating, so when Eddie holds the broken bottle in her face in the boathouse, he doesn’t recognise her right away…

oh my god!!! thanks for the prompt- this is a great idea!!!!! behold:

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

Eddie isn't thinking when someone enters the boathouse he's hiding in. He isn't listening to what they're saying to each other, can't even hear over the pounding of his own heart and his shallow breaths that sound about twenty times louder than they actually are. And when something digs into his side, prodding at him under the tarp he's hid himself under, he definitely doesn't think as he leaps out of his hiding spot, pinning his attacker to the wall with a broken bottle to their throat.

Her throat. His attacker is a girl, apparently, with soft shoulder-length brown waves and pink lip gloss and big, scared-looking doe eyes. Great, he's on the run from people who will definitely think he murdered one sweet, defenceless girl (she was so sweet, and she didn't deserve to go like that), and the first thing he does is threaten another one.

He's still not thinking, really, when he vaguely registers someone else talking, a familiar voice- Henderson? The kid is saying something, something about trusting them, about how they're not here to hurt him- "I swear on my mother, Eddie."

The girl under his hands nods as best as she can with the bottle still pressed to her throat. "Yeah, swear on- swear on Dustin's mom," she says, voice strained and slightly familiar in a way Eddie doesn't have the brainspace to figure out right now.

Eddie looks to Dustin (and is that Band Buckley behind him? And his neighbour? He didn't even know they knew each other), his eyes wide and sincere. And he backs up from the girl. She immediately doubles over, clutching at her neck with a gasp of relief that has Eddie feeling even worse than he already did.

He sends an apologetic look to the girl as he curls back up into himself, mutters a sorry that has the girl waving him off. She shoots him a reassuring smile and a shrug like hey, been there. It would probably work better if she wasn't still rubbing her neck, and if Buckley wasn't patting her shoulder and sending Eddie a death glare over it.

"You're okay, Eddie, it's just me, it's Dustin- and you remember Max, right? Lucas's girlfriend? And that's Robin and Stevie, remember I told you about them? They're my babysitters. Well, Stevie is, Robin's just like, her... I don't know, helper?"

Buckley- Robin rolls her eyes at Dustin, which Eddie can sympathise with. Like, what the fuck, Henderson, he has literally never cared less about who is or isn't his babysitter. Eddie has no idea who Stevie even is, which is weird now that he thinks about it. She's got to be around Eddie's age, and there's only one high school in Hawkins, so he must have seen her at some point. And she is kind of familiar, but Eddie feels like he'd definitely remember seeing this girl around. She's really pretty, soft golden skin dotted with moles, and her shoulders had been firm with muscle when he'd felt them, like she did softball or something.

Actually. Eddie squinted at her a moment. Golden skin. Moles. Droopy, hazel eyes. Muscles. Stevie.

"Wait, Harrington???"

Stevie freezes up again, the same fear returning to her eyes that she'd had when he held a bottle to her throat. Robin glares at him even harder, Max joining in, and even Henderson seems a little defensive.

"Stevie, yeah," she says, voice cool. "Problem?"

Holy shit. "No! I mean- me too! But, uh, opposite."

Stevie's eyes light up, and everyone's jaws drop. "What, really? But- you've always been-"

Eddie nods. "Yeah, since middle school. Remember? I'd just moved to town and I had that buzzcut? My uncle was letting me, like, be a dude and I kind of overcompensated. Worst haircut of my life."

"Holy shit," Stevie whispers, voice full of awe. Eddie can relate.

They both sit for a moment, revelling in the mutual wonder of finally meeting someone even a little bit like them.

And then Dustin ruins it.

"So what happened with Chrissy, Eddie?"

Oh, yeah. He'd almost forgotten this was the worst day of his life.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #t4t steddie #transmasc eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

[beomgyw]

RISE AND SHINE

(IN WHICH GRANDMA PUSHES THE YEONJUN/YOU AGENDA)

welcome your first day of work!! seeing that a lot of you are reading all of the timelines, i'm trying to keep the paths as different as possible, but i'm still sowwy if you have to read through too many similar scenarios apart from the common ones. trying my best !! oh, and sorry for the long wait :( COMMON TIMELINE WARNING: for those of you who are reading through all the paths, you'll get to this scenario more than once. there's no important details added, so you can skip it if you've fount it on another timeline! if you're new here, hi! this is a multi-choice beomjun love triangle au fic !! if you wanna choose your own paths, go back to the beginning!

the morning sun saunters into the room, painting the walls with a soft, golden glow. easy does it, unlike the chaotic wake-up calls of seoul's streets. you had to admit, dragging yourself out of bed felt like a breeze in this beach town, where the sun tiptoes in with a gentle whisper.

you wake up happy, and the promise of working at a bookstore—it just fits right for you. so, after a brief internal fashion showdown (do not refrain from consulting your pinterest for your fic of choice), you are dressed and ready to go. that's when the smell of grandma’s breakfast gets to your room.

“y/n, dear, quick! come down before breakfast gets cold!” grandma's voice chimes through the bottom floor. it's astonishing, the energy this woman has in the mornings.

downstairs, you find yourself face-to-face with a steaming bowl of haejjanguk. a subtle jab, maybe, but grandma doesn't comment on the soju-based-gathering huening kai and you had the night before. instead, she chooses to ask about something else.

“you didn't come back home alone last night, did you?” she pours herself some coffee, cool as if she had just asked about the weather, and settles across from you with her newspaper. "boyfriend, maybe?"

you nearly choke on your stew. “what? oh, uh, yeah– i mean, no. no way. grandma, i just got here.” you have absolutely no idea of how she knows, but somehow, she does.

your grandma raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to look up from the pages. “so what? you knew people before you left.”

“yeah, but i didn't even have time to– i couldn't have gotten a boyfriend in the span of one night, grandma,” you mutter. your grandma's seeming tranquility is what's taking you out of it.

"i don't know, kids are premature these days.” grandma muses, more to herself than to you. "so, who walked you home?"

you shrug, trying to play it cool. “just someone i knew from middle school. choi yeonjun.”

“just someone? you used to have a big crush on him when you were little, didn't you?” she lets the words hang in the air, fishing for a reaction.

“oh, come on, grandma, that was ages ago,” you protest. "and i didn't even like him that much..."

"really? because when we got your room repainted a few years back, you had this corner next to your bed with his name scribbled all over the wall..."

you curse yourself in your head. you really were an absolutely cringe kid. "that's just... children stuff..."

“could be... but, you know, your dad used to have a similar corner, with your mom's name.” she remarks casually. "he liked her since middle school, too. god knows why. his crush corner was worse; he drew little hearts around her name, even."

“why are you telling me all this again, grandma?” you ask, sipping on your stew, trying not to show how creepy her psychic abilities are.

“no particular reason,” she replies, "you're just costing me a fortune in repainting. and also because i don't think yeonjun is not that bad,"

"why would you not like him?" you ask. if you sounded defensive, your grandma ignored it.

"you know, he's a bit too much of a free spirit, but if you like him, i like him too... i'm a modern grandma." she says, and you keep quiet. this feels like a trap. “he might be unorthodox, but he's good looking, and he hangs with your cousin sometimes, which must mean he has a kind heart." she tells you. but then something dawns on her, "speaking of your cousin, why isn’t he up yet?” she questions, springing up from her seat with surprising vigor. she's got the energy of ten yous.

"the sun isn't even fully up yet..." you chime in, relieved for the change of subject. but the peace is short-lived. she's finished her coffee; ergo, she's finished her break. she's done with the interrogation bit. like a drill sergeant, she storms upstairs to wake kai up.

when she returns, she dives into the kitchen for clean-up duty without wasting a second. you attempt to lend a hand but receive a sharp slap on the wrist. "it’s summer, gran, cut him some slack," you say, rubbing the affected area with your other hand.

"slack? it's summer for you too, and you're off to work. unlike him. he works but doesn't get paid. he's a pushover, your cousin." grandma grumbles, her voice slicing through the clatter of dishes.

“what do you mean?” you prod.

“he does volunteer work,” she spits out. "spends more time at the geoje social centre than in his own bed. and it is nice of him, yes. but one must be kind, not stupid.”

curiosity burning, you press for more details. “volunteer work? what's he helping with?”

with a dismissive wave, grandma brushes off your inquiries. “who cares? all i know is he’s not getting paid for it.”

before you get a chance to dig deeper, huening stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, looking like he’s just fought a battle with his bedsheets. “you’re up already?” he groans at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“yeah, first day at work,” you reply with a sympathetic grin.

“oh, good luck." he smiles lazily, his words interrupted but a massive yawn. "wanna hang out later? i can come pick you up.”

“sure, hyuka. once you've fully woken up we can hang out,” you chuckle, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting your way to the door.

you grab you things and leave the house after ruffling huening´s hair in exchange for a dismissive hand gesture, as if he was trying to keep a bee away.

now off to work! or should you get coffee first?

NEXT PART !!

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush

[couriernewvegas]

ok sorry i know my posts have been big on looks-based insecurities recently but like . i hate when conventionally attractive people try to relate about being ugly or smthn esp like when we are talking about kids photos i get everyone is insecure but like . i look at pictures of me across my life and think about how at pretty much every stage people felt the need to make fun of or criticize how i looked and like we are not the same . like i was an ugly “masculine-looking” chubby hairy kid who was by all conventional means at the time considered ugly as fuck and people bullied me for that and being gay from elementary through middle school . and then of course i developed a huge eating disorder that fixed fucking nothing one bc eds dont fix anything but also bc im just baseline considered by most people to be ugly so that didnt change anyone’s minds about me . like my ex regularly tweezed my eyebrows unasked because even somebody who was supposed to be attracted to me still had that baseline disgust with how i just looked naturally . my own family made fun of me for being chubby and having “caterpillar eyebrows” and some of them still make jokes about what an ugly kid i was from the ages of like 7-15 . idk im just sick and i hate when ppl try to argue with me that im not ugly or that they actually look WAY worse than me or whatever bc ive lived in reality and seen how people treat me stop trying to tell me im crazy and its been even worse recently obviously i just feel like so much of my life and happiness has been wasted and lost on hating myself and i just want it to be over already

#and my hair is falling the fuck out because of stress and im doing so horribly i just dont know what to do anymore i feel like in 24 and ive #done nothing except waste time and consistently ruin my life by being so insecure #idk . mental illness tw eating disorder mentioned etc dont read this probably

[latenightgasstationwalk]

get this.

So, ever since my first day at school, I had been searching for an exit, I knew that the atmosphere and environment of any given classroom was simply not one I would excel or even coast in. Realizing at a very young age, that I was simply not built in a way where a typical, classroom setting education was even a possibility, I had an insane feeling overwhelm me when I’d think about the fact that this would be my life for the next 11 years. Which was more time than I had even been alive. And I had acknowledged, faced and overcame this reality YEARS before any adult in my life was even ready address it.

School was hell for me. Burning hot in my seat never able to sit still, fidgeting constantly and being made to feel a freak because of compulsions I could not control. All while completely incapable of making any lasting connections with kids my age because, to call my social skills “stunted” would be a lie, they did not exist. I was entirely on my own in this ever shrinking mental box of locked down possibilities. And the only release I could find at any given day, at any given time, was to act out in a way that I knew would provoke authority figures so that I could be removed from the class space. So that’s what I did, and I chased that feeling from age like 4 to 16. Always LOOKING for an opportunity to do something not only against the rules, but stuff that would make people invent new rules around my terrible actions, because the worse it was - the more likely I’d be removed from class. I never did anything to other students or teachers really (other than talk back and be a dick in general) I’d just do dumb, annoying Shit, and disrupt class. Not for attention or any reason other than I’d much rather light my entire body on fire than sit silently in a classroom

Fast forward to middle school I got expelled like 2 weeks before the end of 8th grade and sent to the kid jail I’ve talked about on here before, where I would spend the next 2 years, from the kid jail I went to an alternative high school. Needless to say things only got worse. I loved breaking rules. I learned very early on how easy it was to get away with stuff you shouldn’t do. But also how to reap the benefits of intentional misbehavior.

To this day, I am the only person I know who has been asked to stop coming to school, Like formally requested. Like “I can’t stop you from showing up, but this is pointless and a waste of everyone’s time, so maybe just don’t come back?“ and I was like r u srs??? Best walk home of my fucking life. I felt free for the first time since school started. Little did I know I was trading one prison for another. Complete with its own unique horrors and expectations. A prison called WORK.

Trying to break out of this one is next to impossible. I’ve been at it for years. While simple in theory, they’ve got a unique approach to this particular captive space, there’s actually a tangible reward for going.

A paycheck. Which if you aren’t aware, is a little rectangular piece paper that you take to a dystopian building in order to redeem the fruits of your labor, an arbitrary number that equates to your value as a human. The most difficult part of all of this is the fact that without increasing this number, you can’t eat or fund any kind of shelter to live in, so I’ve been sticking too it and biding my time trying to find cracks in the system, but they’ve got a pretty air tight hold on things as it turns out.

Getting the house, food, security and daily comfort without the currency stuff, that we insist on making so much more important than it is in practice, is almost impossible. It almost feels like it’s set up that way intentionally. Like they make it so you have to produce something of value to a person who makes waaaaaay more of those currency numbers than you do, just to live a somewhat decent life.

Not to mention the fact that if the slightest possible thing goes wrong, weather it be medical, financial or a family emergency, you’re more than likely fucked 10 ways to Sunday because no one has more than $20 the day before pay day. Add that to the fact that a huge portion of all your earnings get taken by the “government” whatever the fuck that is, which they use to commit atrocities around the globe, and if you don’t like it and don’t want to give them that money, they will put you in an actual prison, which from what I’ve heard, sucks.

I’ve considered diving into the freedom of not having one of these annoying ass jobs but prior to doing so I decided to prospect the lifestyle and talk to some people who were experts in not having them. And life is like, insanely hard for them, in ways I don’t think I could cope with. So when I decided that wasn’t an option I started looking at the people doing the job work stuff really well and tried to study their tactics. Turns out, it’s not all that hard to “climb the ladder” or whatever the fuck they call it. In fact most times just having good attendance will find you thrusted into a position of power that you didn’t even want. But the thing is, the only way to get more paper money stuff is almost always to take advantage of someone with less than you. I learned in practice, that I morally just cant do that.

So now I’m at a job where I work with a very small number of people, work with my hands silently and with no opportunities for advancement, only very thinly veiled pay bumps that are always an insult to the amount of work I actually do. And I must grovel to obtain them. All while working for a billionaire who owns multiple vacation homes that are probably bigger than the entire square footage of any apartment complex I’ve had the privilege of renting a one bedroom in. And now I live in a 10x7 room with my grandma, because even the apartment became too much to maintain financially.

And this is where I’m at until I figure out how to get out. Hiding a scowl with a smile. Sharpening knives in the dark. Waiting for the day I can lash out at whoever put us here. The moment I get shed my skin and expose my true nature to those who’ve wronged me. Waiting for the moment I get to bleed my oppressor. And I hope you get to do the same to yours.

💕Thanks for reading💕

#genuine murder energy #idk what happened halfway through typing this post but the vibe kinda shifted

[francostrider]

Final Fantasy for MEN™

Final Fantasy XVI was released recently, and I think it’s fair to say that the reaction had been mixed. You can count on Square Enix to make a compentently functional game, and I’m sure it plays fine. But the style and gameplay change had been a subject of debate.

Now, the gameplay is a subject in and of itself, as well as Final Fantasy’s overall identity. Personally, it fell out of favor for me when everyone looked like supermodels and dressed like a fashion designer was given too many belts. But let’s put my ranting points about the series aside to address another issue.

And that subject is thus: making a series veer toward adults. People have remarked about the tonal shift that FFXVI has had, feeling more like Game of Thrones rather than a proper Final Fantasy game. The upcoming Dragon Quest game is going for the darker and edgier route as well, with only a fiery number to show for itself so far. Yuji Horii, the series creator, had apparently had unspecified issues for aiming the series at adults.

But I would just like to point something out: I only started playing Dragon Quest games as an adult. While I bounced off IX, I fell in love with VIII when it came out on the 3DS, played through I and II on my phone, and XI became our evening play-and-watch (as in my wife watching and enjoying the characters) after Ys VIII and Tales of Vesperia. In fact, I’m not sure I would have had patience for them as an idiot, edgy teenager. I had enough of turned based games at the time and wanted fast, twitch based combat. I also insisted on darker themes (though I appreciated Prince of Persia: Sands of Time for lightening things up).

But there is the ironic thing about “aiming things” at certain audiences. You know who took up most of the theater seating in Team America: World Police? It was not adults; teenagers took up most of them. The South Park movie was quoted all the time back when I was in middle school. And I’m pretty sure the creators know this. Despite the R-Rating most of their material gets, teenagers make up their primary audience.

And it’s not just comedies; teenagers are a mix of emotions, growing up, and trying to find their identity. They want validation and part of that is finding where they are in the world at large. And that includes confronting the worse parts of human society. When I was a teenager, videogames were mocked as nerd and kid’s stuff, when we were “supposed to be” listening and watching edgier things. Diving into the adult stuff was not just a point of pride for a teenager, but also a point of mockery if you didn’t.

I imagine things have shifted in the last twenty years, but the human experience of a teenager is still there; searching for purpose and validation in an ever changing world. Interest in the more adult themes and stories do not start after you’re 17. They start younger than that. There is certainly some maturity needed to understand graphic violence and racier topics, and I’m not about to show a six year old Scorn, but interest in adult subjects happen at varying ages for different people. 

So, when a creator of a long running game series starts going on about how “they are aiming at adults”, I feel like they are missing an important point about fiction and culture. And it comes from the same dimwitted attitude adults in the US had toward both cartoons and videogames when I was growing up: That they are kids stuff to grow out of. But with communities growing with the internet, and validating the Strange and the “Nerdier” interest, I think it’s fair to say that the better of us have moved past that notion.

Both Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest have adult fanbases. Final Fantasy in particular hit big time back with VII and was already exploring adult themes. It had you following a trail of blood, to find the corrupt president of a mega corp impaled with a sword. Considering all the sequels, spin offs, older games getting western releases, and Kingdom Hearts, they are already appealing to adults.

Being an adult does not mean only watching dramas and staring at sales reports. Or only bloody violence. To not reinvent the wheel, I’ll just go ahead and quote CS Lewis:

“When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

I feared discussing my favorite games and cartoons as a teenager. And even in college to some extent. But during college, I was free to connect with like minded people and enjoy things openly, rather than pretend to be something I’m not. This led me to my lifelong friends and, eventually, my marriage. That is the mark of adulthood; finding your people and your own style, not just copying what a bunch of olds expect of you. Culture has become far too varied for that.

I imagine part of the tone change has to do with Dragon Quest’s record of success in the west. While Final Fantasy regularly makes bank here, including the two MMORPGs, Dragon Quest has yet to release its MMO officially in the States. While, yes, the rest of the series would eventually get released here, it took a longer time to get there and I imagine digital distribution gave them more confidence. Dragon Quest XI was a shot in the arm for the series, but I imagine it still struggles with its competitors.

The idea of “aiming at adults”, however, is a fallacy in understanding its audience. Adults are already playing the series, and abandoning the light hearted nature of the series will likely turn off part of the audience they already have. There’s a difference between “light hearted” and “kiddie”.

No, Dragon Quest VIII isn’t a dystopia like Final Fantasy VII’s Midgar. But we are also chasing a murderous clown possessed by a demon king. The first boss is a creature concussed by the same item we are trying to find, but our mode of airborne transportation is the ghost of a murdered child of a spirit bird. And there’s something about Akira Toriyama’s art style that makes the shift from sillier moments to down right heart breaking moments work very well, where the living dolls that are Bravely Default’s heroes doing over the top heroics just feels off. I love this style, I love its humor, and I love its characters, and none of that makes me feel like I’m being talked down to like I’m a kid. 

After eleven games, I guess a style and tone change is bound to happen at some point. And I don’t feel a franchise should be forced to do the same thing over and over again. But the point I’m making is that you’re not making it more appealing to adults. Or less appealing, for that matter. It is a change, neither better nor worse, and might be subjectively received favorably or ill-favorably depending on timing and climate. But, Horii, don’t feel that you somehow owe the gaming community a “darker” game now to show you’re grown up.

You’ve been appealing to adults for a long time now.

#JRPGS #Dragon Quest #Final fantasy #square enix #akira toriyama #yuji horii #Bravely default #mmorpg #darker and edgier #light hearted

[hyperfixated-homo]

ooh I'm gonna be super predictable but I adore big brother Virgil in any capacity, so if you wanna write that go wild. muah <3

Tired, but never of them

Virgil has a bad day. His little siblings comfort him in their own special way.

Ao3 Link

A/N: This took a while, sorry! Sibling stories are not my strong suit lmao. It’s not even really explicit that he’s the older one here, but you know that he is and I guess that’s what matters. Also I almost got to 2k words with this fic!! Yay me :D

———

He was having a bad day.

Everything had gone wrong from the moment he woke up. He was late for school because he needed to stay up all night to study for a test (which he missed, thanks to his lateness). Then he got a call from his boss and he had to leave his brothers alone in the house because obviously he didn't want to get fucking fired and lose their only source of income. Then it felt like the only customers at their shitty little convenience store were all angry moms and spoiled brats who would take forever to buy their stupid fucking candy and gum and then complain when he didn't give them a discount when they gave him dirty looks. Then in a tiring series of events:

Some kids from his school showed up and started fucking around with the displays.

One of them jokingly asked him out and then called him gay for not immediately saying no.

They all proceeded to laugh at him for being queer for like, half an hour (which he was, but they didn't know that so what was the point?).

A middle aged man yelled at him for five minutes because he wouldn't give him a free beer for an expired coupon that wasn't even for their store.

A kid started crying really fucking loudly in the corner (she didn't stop for fifteen minutes and her parents refused to leave the store. He didn't know if he felt more sorry for them or for himself).

Someone smashed a bottle on the floor trying to take it out of a six pack even though they had a massive sign that clearly stated that they didn't sell single bottles.

And then, to top it all off, one of the kids smoked a cigarette in the bathroom and set the place on fire.

So yeah. In conclusion; Virgil Sanders was having an absolutely horrible fucking day.

When he got home, it was already seven pm and he hadn't eaten since his rushed breakfast (the granola bars at the store didn't count for shit). He was exhausted and stressed out and so sick of everything that he didn't bother to say hi to his brothers when he got back, deciding instead to immediately go to his room and flop onto his bed.

He didn't even take off his shoes or jacket. He just laid there staring at the ceiling and wondering what the fuck he was doing with his life. 

Everything sort of hurt, but not in the sharp way it hurts to get a scrape, or hit your head. It was more like a general soreness that spread throughout his entire body once he laid down. His stomach hurt. It always did when he got stressed or overworked, but it made him feel miserable.

He would need to redo his test. And have to explain to his science teacher why he had to redo the test. Would he need to do it alone? Was that better or worse than having to do that in a room full of people? He didn't know. But he was still thinking about it. For some reason. And probably would be for the entire evening. Fuck.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment and then let out a long sigh. He probably needed to make some food for his brothers. Fucking-

His brothers! Had they eaten anything for lunch? He hadn't had time to come back home after his second morning class, he didn't even check on them when he came home. What if they'd gotten in trouble? What if they thought that he hated them because he was in a bad mood and didn't talk to them? He knew that they got upset when he didn't pay attention to them, how could he just-

A knock sounded at his door. He called out (much more shakily than he would like to admit) for them to come in.

His door opened slowly and two big blue eyes popped out behind it.

"Hey Logan." Virgil croaked out (when did his throat get so dry?)

"...Hi." He sounded small, like he didn't want to say anything. Was he scared? Upset maybe? God they probably did think that he hated them-

"We made you some stuff."

Virgil blinked at him. That was most definitely not what he expected. "You made me things?" Logan nodded, almost shyly.

"Jay and Patton wanted me to give it to you because I'm the most quiet and they didn't know if you had a headache or not." The little seven year old explained, opening the door more and revealing a little tray behind him. Virgil couldn't quite make out the contents from his spot on the bed.

"Can I come in?" He asked. Virgil let him in, sitting up to talk about him better.

Logan picked up the tray and brought it over. Placing it on an empty spot on his bed, he pushed himself up and sat next to Virgil, putting his little hand over Virgil's.

Virgil damn near cried.

On the tray was a plate of pasta, some water, a little box of Pepto-Bismol, two cards and a little blue gem.

The pasta was clearly Patton's, heated warm enough to feel the heat in his stomach but not hot enough to burn. It was sprinkled with sliced ham and Parmesan, which was funny because Virgil was the only one who actually like Parmesan in this house. The ham and cheese combo was simple but it had become a sort of comfort food for Virgil, who had gotten used to making foods like that on a very low budget. When Patton started taking over some of the cooking a the ripe age of ten, he managed to make the recipe even better by adding melted cream (it was legendary; cheap, tasty and made the pasta so much better. Virgil was so amazed at his abilities that he upgraded him to the house chef on the spot).

The water and Pepto-Bismol were probably Janus' doing. Most of his siblings didn't know the difference between it and other over the counter medication like Advil or Tylenol. Janus had helped him do some research on which ones were safer after Virgil expressed concern about how much medicine this family needed (Seriously, between the twins’ chaotic habit of slamming into every possible surface of any place they go—plus Patton's leg injury and Logan's chronic pain, Janus' headaches and Virgil's stomachaches—the drugstore nearby basically knew them by name). Janus had probably taken the time to think about what type of pain he was in and somehow figured out exactly what medicine would make him feel better. He did that all the time, but it never failed to amaze Virgil. 

The cards had so much detail both on the back and front that it could only have been the twins' work. There were drawings and doodles all over the paper, Roman's featuring chibi versions of his younger brothers giving Virgil a big hug, while Remus' showed some more realistic drawings that featured an odd amount of eyes and limbs. They were both equally endearing. What really took Virgil aback was the amount of stickers the two had put on their cards. They loved to collect stickers, but had a general rule that using them was strictly forbidden. They were meant for looking and not using. The two of them using so many made the cards feel really special, as strange as it was.

Opening the cards, Virgil was met with a pop up drawing of himself on Roman's card and a big monster of limbs and eyes and mouths on Remus' that was labeled "the bad day". He was a bit confused for a moment, but then Logan put the two together and he couldn't help but laugh.

When the pages were pressed against each other the pop-out figures it formed a scene where Virgil was a heroic knight, holding his sword out and fighting The Bad Day. It was so thoughtful and creative and them that it almost made Virgil choke up a little bit.

The final thing on the tray was a crystal, small enough to easily fit into his palm. It was smooth on the bottom and jutted out into a natural looking formation, the bumpy pattern giving it a wonderful texture and a frozen appearance. It was slightly transparent, and through it Virgil could see that the edges were a bright cyan, while the middles were a deeper shade of indigo.

It was a salt crystal, one that Logan had made himself at home after a class demonstration left him interested. He'd kept them afterwards and called them his comfort crystals, because the knowledge of their creation made him feel better when he was sad, and the texture was pleasantly stimulating to him.

The crystal on his tray now was one that they had made together. It was one of the first crystals that had ever actually formed (when Virgil realized that the reason they weren't forming was because it wasn't humid enough for it to crystalize). It was also the first one they'd dyed.

It was Logan's favorite comfort crystal.

"Sometimes I feel better when I'm just holding it," Logan murmured when Virgil picked it up "so you can borrow it for a bit."

It really wasn't much, but it meant everything to him. The pasta had too much ham and the glass wasn't filled all the way, and there were spelling mistakes in all the kind words in the cards and there was no way to put the crystal down so that it wouldn't start rolling when the bed moved but it was so, so perfect and oh fuck he was crying-

"Virge?" It wasn't from the little boy beside him, but rather his door. "Are you okay?"

Patton's concerned voice from the doorway was enough to make him sob. He walked in immediately and started going through breathing exercises to calm him down.

Virgil spluttered for a minute, trying to find a nice way to voice his thoughts without sounding like a complete idiot but eventually just said fuck it.

"'I'm not sad." He said in-between sobs "I just really, really love you guys, you know?"

Patton's concerned face split into a grin, and he squealed, pulling him up and into a hug. "I love you too!" He said, squeezing him tightly.

It took a while for Virgil finally calmed down enough to get out of the hug and wipe his eyes. When they broke from their hug, he could see the others standing in his doorway. It seemed that Logan had gone to grab them while Patton comforted him through his sob fest.

He snorted, slightly wetly, and said "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Instantly, he had two little balls of red and green in his arms, loudly asking if he's okay. Janus came over to pluck the food from its spot on the bed and put it somewhere safer, and Logan rejoined him by his side.

It was nice. They were nice. He could feel himself relax and calm down as the twins explained the thought process behind their cards a little better, the background noise doing wonders for his overstimulated mind. Patton and Janus sat down eventually, Janus on his right and Patton holding Logan on his left. They gave him back his pasta so that he could eat while they talked about their days. 

They were so careful to not talk about anything that might trigger him. Every time he thought about it, it made him want to burst into tears again. 

There was warmth on all sides, not trapping but simply surrounding him. And he felt safe.

It had been a bit of a bad day. And he was still a little tired, but he knew at the end of the day he could never be tired of his family.

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #older brother virgil #i dont know how to tag fics on tumblr #hurt/comfort #soft #shadow writes

[evansbby]

like when I lived in Pakistan I had NO CLUE the west hated us so much and thought we were some backwards people when really we’re not at all!//

Bestie we’re living the same life because I thought this as well!!! Like I moved to the UK from Morocco when I was around 8 or 9 and I never realized how much the west actually hated us. It only really dawned on me when my mum picked me up once from school and other parents were looking at her weird and LITERALLY pulling their kids to the side as if she had some disease. It broke my heart because she’s the nicest woman ever and to see people just blatantly have so much hatred for her because she’s wearing the hijab makes me so sad.

When I still used to live in Morocco, I’d see tourists from the west sometimes, and I remember one woman who asked me for directions and she was so nice to me that I immediately thought that everyone must be this nice from the west….I was HORRIBLY wrong💀 I was more surprised that she could speak Amazigh so well instead of if she was wearing a hijab or not, because that’s literally the first thing western people see, a piece of cloth wrapped around my head.

Also about that magazine cover??? Wtf😭 How did they not think that shit was, I don’t know, maybe VERY islamphobic??? (also how did your teacher react to your essay? I know my friend also did something similar and she had to redo it because ‘University isn’t the place to discuss these matters’💀 the teacher is very ignorant and racist so it didn’t really surprise me tbh)

I can go on and on about how the west RUINED peoples views of muslims, because it actually makes me so mad and so sad that this is the world live in rn😕

That’s so awful and I feel so bad for you bc it’s genuinely such a shitty thing to go through 😭😭😭 For me it wasn’t as bad of an experience, bc as I said before I don’t wear hijab, so most people don’t even think I’m Muslim (and this is a different topic but I found that so strange, bc where I grew up in Pakistan, most everyone was Muslim and not many people wore hijab? But when I moved to the UK I saw many more hijabis than I ever did in Pakistan).

Anyways, bc I didn’t cover my hair, they’d treat me fine, but then I’d hear the way they spoke about Muslims and I’d be so disgusted… like they have this inner hatred and you get this helpless feeling as if you can’t do anything to change that bc it feels like it’s in their DNA to hate us 😭😭 it fucking sucks! It especially hurts when they pick out random crimes committed by random men who happen to be Muslim and they’re like “see!!! This is the so called religion of peace!1!1” bestie I HATE when they do that! They lump as all in as one and it’s like nothing we say or do can change that even thought all we’re doing is existing!!! (I say “we” but please understand that I know the plight is worse for hijabis and they are treated worse!)

My professor was actually a middle aged white man and he loved the essay bestie 😭😭😭 he gave me a first (A*) and I got very good feedback and it’s an essay I was very proud of bc I felt vindicated that this white man understood what I was saying 😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧

Also when I moved to the UK, the kids in my class thought Pakistan was a barren desert 💀💀💀 they literally don’t see anything outside of themselves bestie they don’t know shit 🤧🤧

#anon

[theroastedwretch]

Between the Lines- Ep. 4

Warnings- PG-13 due to Swearing and Explicit Language, Mature Themes, possible Violent References

Index Ep. 3

The quick succession of Dan’s revelations the night before, the kidnapper’s threats, Dan’s accident, and Jake reverting back into his more calculating side after I thought we’d started moving past that all piled on top of my brain’s sluggish resistance to starting the day made the morning rather bleak.

I agreed not to send the video, even though something in my gut told me it was wrong. I was the one of the two of us that predicted people better, as unbelievable as it was. But the facade seemed to crack for a second as he pleaded, and I reminded myself again that it was not about me as my jealousy spiked at the memory of the initials on the bracelet.

I was quickly proven right, of course, when the kidnapper sent it to Cleo once he realized I wasn’t going to send it, and I knew I’d lost a little bit of the trust they’d had in me when they found out that I’d gotten it already, and it wasn’t my first.

The first one hadn’t mattered, it was just pointed at me. But this one had been more personal to them, and I could see the cracks in the group growing because of it.

Lilly, especially, seemed angry, and I knew nothing about her to be able to predict what she’d do. At least Dan wasn’t here to make me look even worse.

Too soon, MC, too soon.

Still, once the adrenaline faded and my phone quieted, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at my shaking hands. The threat may have been empty, just meant to scare me, but it worked. We could rationalize it all we wanted, logic our way through it, but the truth is that none of that would really be enough to stop the cold fingers of fear crawling their way up my stomach through to my chest and making it hard to breathe.

This was all a show for me, and I hated every second of it. 

But no one would forgive me for turning it off, either. Especially me. ___

Richy’s story about the dare house, and sudden attempts to connect with me, only compounded the unsettling feeling I’d been dealing with since the call.

First of all, Duskwood was weird. Maybe I was just sheltered but I didn’t start to do stupid shit like wandering through woods and knocking on random doors until I was like sixteen, not eleven. At that age, the worst I got was playing Bloody Mary or Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board.

But their stuff seemed actually dangerous. Were there no homeless people or drug addicts in Duskwood who might take up residence in that house and be none too pleased to be subjected to kids getting their danger fix by making noise every night?

Maybe I was overthinking it, but Duskwood seemed to have more than its fair share of legends and monsters, and it seemed like they were coming to life.

Especially once the same Raven from Hannah’s phone ended up on Richy’s door.

I couldn’t blame Lilly for her fear. In some ways, she made the most sense of the bunch. As mad as her accusations made me, I knew I’d be just as angry. From her perspective, I was a total stranger that only got pulled in because of a message that Thomas got, but it seemed like no one else saw because it vanished.

Then, for seemingly no reason, I stuck around, charmed some of her friends, ignored threats to their safety, got them riled up and digging into fairy tales, and somehow had a picture that her sister took.

Yeah, I looked almost as shady as Thomas and Dan had acted over the stupid key.

Still, it hurt to hear, and to be reminded of just how tentative my place in the group really was, even after all the time and energy I’d put into them. Jessy’s defense soothed me a bit, but I still found myself wrapping my arms around my chest and staring at my phone sadly as I got to hear what people really thought of me. And I didn’t even get a vote.

Middle school all over again. 

So when Jake intervened in the vote, I was torn. On one hand, strong-arming them into keeping me around, threatening them, and revealing that we were spying on them was not the way to gain their trust back. 

On the other hand… It was pretty hot.  ___

My more reasonable, less hormone driven reaction to Jake’s video was confirmed nearly immediately, when Jessy freaked out about him reading our conversation. And there wasn’t much I could do to reassure her without lying, since he definitely was reading most of the time (and maybe sometimes it was part of our weird flirting ritual? No way I’d tell her that though), and she had every right to be freaked out by it. Like a normal person.

I couldn’t be surprised when she dropped our chat, and told myself not to take it personally. Still. If she changed her vote, I would be out no matter how Dan voted. And I knew how Dan was going to vote. Other than when he was drunk, he’d made it clear the whole time that I was a pest to him.

I wondered if the vote was just over the group chat, or the group as a whole. If Lilly managed to evict me, would I lose Jessy, who I’d come to adore? I didn’t feel as close to Cleo, but we had started getting closer recently and I enjoyed our conversations too. I didn’t fool myself into thinking her vote was much more than a combination of wanting her friend back and the same false bravado that had led to her dismissal of the video, though.

I tried to reflect on what the vote so far had revealed rather than letting myself worry about the result. Lilly and Jessy were obvious— both were guided by emotions. Lilly was terrified, and Jessy was loyal.

Thomas had surprised me a bit. He’d been so pushy towards me at first, wanting me to stay. But thinking back, ever since we’d found the body he’d had little to do with me, even once discovering that it wasn’t Hannah. I guess the lack of results made me less relevant to him.

Richy. Well. On one hand, he was definitely a people pleaser. He knew Jessy and I were close, and I can’t imagine she’d be pleased with him if he tried to vote me out. But Lilly would be mad if he didn’t. So instead  of making things worse for someone, he made things better for no one.

But really, it was his reason that was interesting. Even before Jake had intervened, Richy mentioned my connection to him. And he’d brought it up with the picture of the Raven earlier. But then, he’d considered it a bad thing, and now it was good?

How did he even know for sure that I was working with Jake? The picture might have been a one-off, and Jessy was the only one I’d discussed him with to any length, and even then it was mainly to say I liked him.

Nothing more would be decided until Dan joined us, so I tried to put the vote out of my mind to discuss the bracelet with Jake.

His theory about Thomas was interesting, but I wasn’t sure it fit his personality. I hadn’t seen him as a man of action much, though I guess Breaking and Entering with an illegally made key could certainly be called an action. 

He was up to something, that was for sure. But if he took Hannah, then would the body they actually found just be unrelated? Were there two bodies in the forest but only one had been found? 

I had wondered why the police would tell him that the body wasn’t Hannah’s. Maybe they didn’t, and he just knew it couldn’t be based on the body’s location?

I didn’t mention this to Jake (and totally not because I was still worried about the J being for his name), but the theory about the initials didn’t sit right either. I didn’t have much engraved jewelry, but the pieces I did have were engraved with my initials, not who gave them to me.

My parents’ wedding rings had been engaged, but it was both of their initials to symbolize their love. But custom jewelry was usually customized for the wearer, not the giver. Right?

I was starting to get frustrated with the number of clues that were refusing to fit together in any way. So even though I was still kind of ticked about his refusal to vote, I let myself relax and joke with Richy about the mark.

His humor was pleasantly irreverent at times, and I wondered a bit what was below that. He didn’t strike me as the sort who joked about serious things to be an ass like Dan, and he didn’t seem just clueless. It was the sort of laughter designed to make others relax, and cope with whatever he was feeling.

For me, mine had started as a way to handle my depression, finding light where it seemed impossible. It worked well to deflect, too. Keep people from seeing if you were really upset, or about to break. Richy Roger, what are you feeling?

His point about being watched gave me goosebumps. The Man Without a Face had already proven he had eyes on Cleo, and now Richy? 

I didn’t see much of note in his conversation with Phil, though. It didn’t strike me as much more than normal warnings to back off from a man who didn’t like being pushed.

Not for the first time, I appreciated Jake’s constant monitoring of my phone when my thoughts were interrupted by the kidnapper’s night call, strangely even more threatening without words. 

Jake was clearly bothered by it too, since for the first time he didn’t rush to label it a good thing, or an empty threat. I found myself cracking jokes to reassure him, and felt a little warm when he laughed. 

His discomfort was explained further when he gave me the name of Hannah’s doctor. Right. The depression thing, he clearly still struggled with the idea.

When he asked me to find the password, I was glad to be able to help with something. Just to take some pressure off him and definitely not because I wanted him to praise me. Nope.

The password the doctor used made me roll my eyes. At least use an exclamation point! But also, I needed to change all of my passwords. All of them. Even if I used an exclamation point, that was too easy.

Dan’s return started my anxiety up all over again, since I’d already decided how that was going to end. But hopefully between spy mode, and whatever I could glean from Jessy if she was willing to work with me still, I’d be able to figure something out. 

It was good that he was awake, though— I hadn’t expected him to recover quite that quickly. I might not be close to him, but I didn’t want him to die. Hopefully he learned something about drunk driving. I wouldn’t get into it with him, that wasn’t my place, but I was definitely more mad at him than his friends seemed to be for his reckless endangerment. He could do what he wanted to himself, but what would have happened if someone else got hurt?

I wondered if there would be charges.

When Lilly brought up the vote, I quickly forgot my anger and tensed up, waiting. 

His breezy support of me left me wide-eyed and confused. Lilly, too, seemed caught off guard, and I remembered he’d been the one she asked to come over with her when she’d found out about the body. Since he’d asked out Jessy not long after, I didn’t let myself think too much about it. But were they close?

I wondered if things would have been easier if he’d just voted me out. I knew from experience that adding betrayal to an already hurting mind could end very poorly. Her abrupt departure sounded like a slammed door in my mind. ___

The psychologist’s recording that Jake found was a lot to take in, and I found myself replaying it several times to digest before saying anything.

It was clear he didn’t believe her, despite his protests, and while her kidnapping made that infuriating in hindsight… she’d been followed before? 

I hadn’t heard of depression manifesting with hallucinations, but who knew if that was her only diagnosis? Didn’t I know about comorbidity better than most, after all, with the ADHD and Borderline Personality? There were so many things that weren’t treated with meds, just therapy and coping mechanisms, so without her full records, we’d probably never know. The fear in her voice was real, no matter if her stalker was or not. 

I tried to imagine the stress, the frustration, of telling someone about a terrifying experience and having them smile and nod, humoring you. No wonder she wouldn’t have told her friends. 

Sadness overwhelmed me, and I hoped her doctor felt guilty now. With privacy laws what they were, would he be able to tell the police about her stalker? I knew he’d have to tell if it were someone else in danger from her, but what about when she’s the victim? 

Like so many of our clues lately, this really only made more questions than it answered. The guilt she felt was clearly immense, but why? What could she have done? As a child, even? Something so bad that she’d bury it for years and apparently catch the ire of a vigilante hiding behind the mask of a legend?

When Jake asked me that same thing, he sounded so sad and vulnerable that my heart broke for him. I didn’t know how they knew each other, or what he felt for her, but it was clear that this investigation was hurting him. I wanted to tell him everything was okay, but he’d never believe me, and he didn’t seem like one who appreciated empty reassurances. 

I was trying to cheer him up a bit with my teasing, and his sudden confession caught me off guard. I stared at my phone in shock, he’d never been this open with me, ever. Hearing that he thought about me even when I wasn’t pestering him felt better than anything I’d had in a long time. But the crash, as always, came soon after and the whiplash made me tremble. 

When he logged off, fury temporarily flooded the sadness and made me want to scream. How dare he? How dare he tell me all of these things, reject me, and then just run away and hide? What the hell was I supposed to do with that? Was I meant to just soldier on, helping him find his friend and quietly fuck off after it was over? 

Was that what they all expected of me? 

I locked my phone more violently than was probably necessary, but I couldn’t stand to look at it for a minute longer. 

It felt wrong in my hand, so I chucked it onto the couch. The device bounced harmlessly from the cushion to the carpet and I found myself almost regretting it didn’t break.

I stared at the wall for too long before crawling into bed on my side and wrapping my arms around my knees. I thought I’d cry, I wanted to even, but no tears came.

Once, when I was a kid, I lost my footing in the ocean while I was at the beach with my parents. I remember it as having happened in slow-motion stages, with first the wave smacking me in the face hard enough that it stung. Next came the part where my feet slipped out from under me, it made me dizzy and disoriented and made it so I didn’t even notice that without my legs keeping me anchored, I was being pushed and pulled along into the deeper water where the bottom would be out of reach even if I found a way to right myself.

By the time I was able to brace myself enough to open my eyes in the salty water, I couldn’t find which way was up anymore. I was weightless, lost. It was almost peaceful other than the knowledge that my air was running out and that peace would soon give way to the need to take in lungfuls of water in search of air. Even that young, I knew it would hurt. But as I hung there, suspended in the dark, there was nothing.

This time, the water was Hannah and her life and her secrets. Her friend group I’d slipped into like I was holding her place for her. And as I closed my eyes to block out the world, I wondered if someone would save me again, or if I’d be forever drifting through someone else’s story. ____

When the morning came, I could barely bring myself to get out of bed. My mouth was dry, and I must have cried at some point because I could feel the slightly tight residue of tear tracks on my cheeks, and the pounding headache from dehydration. I could have gotten up to deal with it— should have even. But instead I rolled back over and forced myself to drift off again. ___

“You are alive, right?”

Annie’s voice at the doorway startled me awake. She either hadn’t knocked or it hadn’t woken me, but it took a second to process her standing there. The whole time we’d lived together, we’d had a firm policy around our bedrooms being sacred, and if the door was closed, it meant we didn’t want to be bothered. Period. She must be really worried.

“For now,” I groaned, rolling away from her. 

“Have you come out at all? Your door’s been closed since before I even went out last night.”

Without my glasses or phone, I couldn’t see the clock, and I’d invested in heavy blackout curtains and hung them close to the window to keep any light out. “What time is it?” 

“Seven.” 

Jesus, it was Sunday, why was she bothering me? Neither of us were religious, and she normally stayed out till two or three. Sure she functioned on less sleep that I did, but that was ridiculous.

“Go away, I can’t wake up before ten on the weekends.” I waved my hand at her to try to shoo her away, covering my face with my pillow.

“PM, honey.” Her voice was soft in a way I’d never heard it before, and I jolted with surprise. 

“I slept for an entire day?” I guess that could explain why I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, and one filled with salt at that. I had no real sleep rhythm, and if I didn’t set an alarm I could easily sleep for 12 hours or more at a time. But 24 was a new record. Probably not one I should brag about, though.

“I guess so. What’s going on?” She came into my room and sat at the edge of my bed uncomfortably. For all of our teasing and provoking, we weren’t actually that close. We’d never had an actual serious conversation that wasn’t about apartment ground rules. 

Maybe that’s why her question broke the dam. 

I started sobbing, wrapping my arms around myself like I was afraid I’d come apart if something didn’t hold me together. She looked startled at first, blinking in surprise, but then started rubbing my back and murmuring to me.

I didn’t say anything, and she didn’t ask again, just letting me cry it out. I’m not sure how my body had any fluids to make tears by that point, but it managed, and even found some snot to make it a good, ugly cry. 

When I started quieting, Annie brought me some tea and toast, filling up my water bottle for me. She coaxed me into eating most of the toast, though the tea was cold by the time I finished. The water I gulped down greedily, and felt slightly more human when I collapsed back onto the bed. Even that little bit had me exhausted.

“Do you want to talk?” 

I shook my head without lifting it from the pillow. To feel a little less ungrateful, I muttered a small “sorry” even though I wasn’t sure which part I was apologizing for.

She seemed to understand what I didn’t because she pointed to my phone that she’d brought and plugged in at some point when I wasn’t looking. “If you change your mind or need anything,” she said simply, then turned the light back out and closed my door.

I called off the next day, wanting to let myself nope for a little longer. I felt so pathetic, losing it like this over a guy, but deep down I knew that it was only the tip of the iceberg. 

This had been building for weeks now, maybe even since the first message from Thomas. And the message I got from Richy the second I went online reminded me that it wasn’t over yet. ___

I watched the newest call from the MWAF numbly, not even sure why I’d bothered to pick up. I knew the only reason I wasn’t afraid was the dissociation, but couldn’t bring myself to care. It had been a while since I’d detached this fully, and it felt good not to feel, so I leaned in.

I didn’t bother to tell Jake about the call. He’d see it, or he wouldn’t. He’d care or he wouldn’t. It really didn’t matter.

Even Lilly’s video took me several views to care about. And there wasn’t anger, fear, or shock. Just a general sense of annoyance.

Fucking great.

NEXT

#duskwood mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood #duskwood fandom #duskwood episode 10 #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #jake x mc

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

Nathan surveyed the group of dancing couples and sighed. His mother was certainly dancing pretty close to Launce. The two of them looked like teenagers, twirling around on the dance floor like they were completely alone. Nathan averted his eyes when he saw Launce drop his hand far lower on his mother’s back than he was comfortable watching. He’d seen demons do unspeakable acts of violence, but somehow seeing his mother be groped by her boyfriend in the middle of their backyard was worse. If things kept up like this, he’d no doubt be forced to participate in another wedding sometime soon. After watching his mother heckle and bully his siblings about their own weddings and grades and salaries, Nathan couldn’t imagine how his mother would act as a bride herself.

That was one disaster he wanted no part of. He’d seen his parents’ wedding pictures and the immaculate bride she’d once been, glowering at all those who failed to produce the wedding of her dreams. His favourite photo in that old album was a snapshot of his mother tearing into her father for some reason while his own father tried to blend in with the curtains to avoid the scene. Nathan wasn’t sure why he was drawn to the image. He barely remembered what his father looked like and he had no memory whatsoever of his grandfather. It was comforting in a way to see what had come before him. It made him feel like he was a part of something greater, something eternal. Abraham Sr had come and gone, just as Abe Jr someday would too. What would the Helios family look like when Theo was his age? Would Nathan still be a part of it by then? Would he be running the family as heir with a little heir of his own?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Unlike his siblings, Nathan was going to graduate school without a kid of his own to slow him down. If he chose to graduate at all. Maybe one day, he’d just disappear from Arkhelios entirely. His mother could find a new heir to play along with the stupid games in Arkhelios and he could do...well, something. He’d come up with a plan later. The important thing was to remind himself not to get too attached to the people here. He’d almost certainly be much happier without them.

“What is Roman doing? He’s going to start rumours! I don’t think anyone here really knows who Claudia is, but if a picture managed to get out of her pressed against an engaged former lover in the middle of a party, I’ll be dead. My grandmother will murder me! I’m supposed to be watching her.”

“Former lover?” Abe repeated, processing the words carefully. Maura had rushed him onto the dance floor without a word, only to position herself directly behind her cousin and Roman. From the look on her face, Abe could see that she was just as impressed as he was about Roman dancing so close to an unmarried monarch. “Wait, so did they actually date? I thought he was just using her to make me jealous and she needed the publicity. You’re telling me that Roman was at one point positioned to become the prince consort of Pleasantview? Roman?”

Maura made a dismissive noise.

“Of course not,” she replied quickly. “If it was love between them maybe, but she moved on pretty quickly with a string of rich playboys and some kid she grew up with. She has a kid with one of them, god only knows who.”

Abe tried not to look jealous, but from the look Maura was giving him, he probably failed.

“And even if she loved your stupid fiance, I’d never let her get hurt the way Adrian did,” Maura continued, blame and anger written clearly across her face. “He tried so hard and lost so much all because of you and the hold you have on Roman. I’ve lost one cousin to Roman’s obsession with you; I won’t lose another. I won’t.”

Abe tried not to wither under the suddenly fierce look the princess was giving him.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he reassured her. “Roman’s going to be my problem permanently pretty soon, and I’ll be sure to steer him away from your cousin.”

While Maura angrily tried to spy on her cousin while dancing with Abe, someone else was entering the dance floor.

“I’m cutting in.”

One moment Claudia was holding tightly to Roman and the next she was on the ground, staring at the man who’d taken her place in Roman’s arms.

“Hey!”

“Hi Nathan. It’s so good to see that you have the same lack of boundaries as your sister. What do you want now?” Roman sighed.

Maura pounced on the opportunity to shoo her cousin off the dance floor, while Abe went to get a drink. If his brother was planning something nefarious, Abe knew that Roman could handle himself. At least the rich, beautiful woman was away from his fiance.

“Just saying hi,” Nathan answered, aggressively trying to take the lead in the dance. Roman countered his movements easily. “Is there something wrong with dancing with the father of my nephew?”

“If that’s what this is,” Roman said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not really sure what you seem to want from me these days.”

“Nothing important,” Nathan lied. He looked over at his fuming brother standing by the house. “Just making sure that marrying you is in his best interests. I wouldn’t want him to lose out on being the Helios heir after marrying someone he can’t divorce.”

Roman fought the urge to groan. Did Nathan overhear a conversation with Lucy or had she just started telling everyone in Arkhelios about the true nature of Abe’s upcoming wedding? In a place as small as Arkhelios, everyone knew each other’s business, and it drove Roman up the wall. It was okay to have Ulyssa gossip about her brother’s problems, but when it came to his and Abe’s private business, that was different.

“Yeah, this isn’t concern about your brother,” Roman sighed, lifting Nathan’s wandering hand back up to his hip. “You’ve apparently heard the news about us and you still think that your creepy flirting is going to get you somewhere with me? Abe and I are going to be linked forever. Not even the sovereign herself could break the bond we’ll have. Even when I was just holding his broken contract, I could feel the beating of his heart when I closed my eyes. The emotions he felt lingered in my own heart until they became one and the same.”

“You can’t possibly think that you can compete with that. You’re nothing, Nathan. Nothing at all.”

Nathan matched Roman’s steps as best as he could. He heard the familiar whine of his dog, Libby as she begged for his attention. Ulyssa had clearly cranked up the music, as all Nathan could hear was the pounding of the bass line in his ears. He closed his eyes and felt the ever present whisper of something unspeakably dark slither around inside his head.

“I’m better than Abe could ever be!” Nathan shouted, pinning Roman against the wedding arch to assert his dominance over the demon. “You can’t even understand what I can do! Everyone likes me better! I’m better than Abe. I’m more dangerous than Lucy. Even you can’t-”

“Oh my god, stop before you embarrass yourself. You’re a little too old to actually believe all this edgelord shit.”

With one smooth motion, Roman easily side stepped Nathan’s weak pin on him, and sent him flying towards the ground. Nathan sputtered angrily as Roman effortlessly pinned him to the ground, waiting for him to calm down.

“This isn’t who you are, Nathan. You’re not a demon, even if you were possessed by one. You were always the quiet, rational Chun sibling growing up; don’t let what my grandfather did change who you are. He’s out of the picture and you’re free. Don’t throw your life away because of past trauma. I’ve been there, and I’d hate for you to fall into that mess.”

Nathan scowled and started to protest against Roman’s condescending words. He wasn’t free from Dorhack. At this point, he would probably never be. Besides, he was dangerous and dark and edgy. Staying away from Cindra was his gift to her. Unlike Abe, he was protecting the ones he cared about from the darkness inside him.

“Roman? What’s going on?”

“We’re okay Elaine! Nathan just tripped! No one’s hurt!”

Roman motioned to his future mother in law that he was about to help her son stand up. As soon as her attention was off of them though, Roman changed from the worried, wise brother in law he’d just spent the better part of five minutes convincing Nathan he was. He pressed more of his weight into the knees that were holding most of Nathan down in the dirt.

“Whatever little game you’ve been playing ends now,” he hissed, his face suddenly switching to the monstrous visage Gareth had broken down trying to describe to Nathan. The cuddly, mature image Nathan saw his mother fall for again and again was gone. In its place was something dark and intense; a perfect mirror for the feelings that stirred inside the youngest Chun. This was what he’d been waiting to see. This was Kamalani’s son.

“You are never going to hit on me again, understand?  Whatever little parlour tricks you think you can do are nothing compared with what I can do to you. I’m sure your little boyfriend told you what I did. I can do so much worse to you, believe me.”

Nathn tried to push Roman off of him, but the demon hybrid was stronger.

“If I see Abe hurt or embarrassed again by some stunt you pull, we will be revisiting this conversation,” Roman warned, his eyes looking black against the sunny sky. “I’ve been trained to deal with actual demonic threats to protect your brother. He is under my protection, and I’ve defended him from far greater threats than you.”

Roman shifted more of his weight against the potential threat to Abe’s happiness and Nathan fought hard not too wince.

“This isn’t even me trying, Nathan. Even if it was, believe me, this is nothing compared to what my son can do. Don’t piss me off, or I might just have him use you as target practice.”

Roman stood quickly, his face now returned to its usual cheerful state. He extended a hand towards Nathan to help him up, but Nathan angrily batted it away.

“Make sure you grab a piece of the cake before it’s gone,” Roman called out as he began innocently walking in the direction of his fiance. “I made it from scratch.”

#sims 2 #arkhelios university #arkhelios #roman bellamy #nathan chun #sim: Claudia Goldman #sim: Maura Siew #claudia goldman #maura siew

[pumpkijuice]

Day 4: School's Play [Drama]

I've touched on a few things already with the previous posts, but I did not feel at all likeable when I was a kid [and still struggle a lot with confidence today]. My best friend was my cousin Greg, but for many self-loathing reasons, I'd ended up pushing him away when I'd started middle school. Him and Poppy [my grandfather] were the people I was closest to, and coincidentally, Poppy's health started to decline right as I was already isolating myself. I started hanging out with someone I knew would put me down, and just felt like I deserved it. She'd call me fat, stupid, and ugly, and tell me how I didn't make friends, and how anyone I thought might be my friend was faking it, trying to get to her by using me. I felt worthless... ✧

come seventh grade, my confidence was shot, I thought I was disgusting, and as Poppy's health got worse, I needed an outlet... I'd dropped Digimon during Tamers [I was weirdly mad at them for making the first two seasons I'd cared so much about somewhat meaningless], but gave it a chance briefly due to Kyubimon, then dropped it all together when they got to the Digital World I think? Though it probably hadn't even been a year, it felt like so long since I'd watched Digimon, so when I'd randomly caught Frontier when I'd gotten home from school, I was too excited! It was the first time that despite not catching it from the very beginning, I was going to watch a show from where I tuned in and not worry if I was "missing something" [I'd later learned I'd only missed a few episodes, it was Kazemon's appearance that I'd started on]. ✧

I was hooked! Here was this cute girl my age turning into a very attractive Digimon [I was somehow unaware that I was attracted to Kazemon at the time haha], and though I'd definitely say I was jealous [she's cute, turns into a Digimon, and is making friends despite saying she doesn't make friends easily, and here I am, friendless and gross], I loved Zoe. I was rooting for her and thought it was great she could do anything the guys could do albeit with feminine flair [I also hadn't realized my dislike of being "the girl" and my love of "the girl" characters being one of the guys, just prettier, was my goal-self (I've always strived for "beautiful boy/ethereal girl, but not really either gender," but had always been too self-conscious to admit it with how garbage I felt]. ✧

I'd lost Poppy that December, and was crushed. I didn't have people, and I didn't have my own back enough to reach out to anyone who would've cared/helped. Having Digimon Frontier each week [I think it was like every Wednesday or something? I may be misremembering...] was the huge help I needed. It gave me something to look forward to [not to be too heavy, but I wasn't the biggest fan of being alive, so every little joy I could muster helped] and I really liked the characters' dynamic. This group was not exactly the best of friends, and I'd missed how they'd gotten together, but they were a team, and they made each other better! I thought, "I'm so tired of 'with friendship, you can do anything!!!' when it's always only friends you already have.. Why can't I watch new friendships form and see it not working at first? People like me who struggle to connect. I can do things too?" I really felt like I could get along with this group, and wished so hard to be Zoe... ✧

#digiweek2022

[themculibrary]

(TW) Abuse Masterlist

A.I.s and Lullabies (ao3) - Echo N/R, 21k

Summary: Tony is suddenly a quiet, wary five year old boy. The rest of the team are less than completely sure about what to do about that.

Hide A Heart Of War (ao3) - RayShippouUchiha bucky/steve/tony T, 13k

Summary: “You’ve got war in your heart boy,” Howard sneers, “don’t ever try and pretend to be anything but what you are.”

Tony feels the familiar burn of a flower mark being etched into his skin but he doesn’t look, doesn’t try and check to see what it is. Instead he keeps his eyes on Howard and his hands cupped around his bleeding mouth and nose.

Love Is A Battlefield (ao3) - crumbcrash2000 steve/tony, tony/tiberius

Summary: In Siberia, Steve looks on in horror as Tony watches the video of his parents' murder. Expecting the worst, he is prepared to fight to defend Bucky, even through the shock of his own betrayal.

But Tony doesn't lash out.

Instead, Tony cries, and Steve's whole life falls apart.

Minefields (ao3) - arianapeterson19 pepper/tony, bucky/steve/tony T, 34k

Summary: Being in an abusive relationship was a bit like needing glasses. He didn't realize it until the damage was done.

Funny how people assume only men can be abusive.

Mokusatsu (ao3) - shadesfalcon bucky/clint/steve, background sam/natasha E, 125k

Summary: Clint Barton has been strung along from abusive relationship to abusive relationship all his life. Not that he would use the word “abusive”. He would argue that, as a sub, he was born to take whatever it is his dom feels like throwing at him.

But even with that attitude, he’s nervous about his current situation. Trapped in a bureaucratically mandated relationship with not one but two doms is going to be difficult and dangerous. Especially since these two doms are both members of the Avengers themselves.

He hopes that whenever he disappoints them, they’ll have at least a little pity on him, even though he knows he won’t deserve it.

my heart a pandora box (ao3) - Imagineitdear steve/bucky E, 8k

Summary: Presenting as an omega at the age of 12, Bucky is whisked away from his family and his best friend Steve in the middle of school. He's taken to live in an omega house under the protection of the government and for six years, he never leaves.

But at age 18, it's time to be mated. Bucky can't decide which would be worse: getting stuck with the abusive director of his omega house, or being forced to mate a stranger. An alpha that could treat him even worse than Alexander Pierce.

Luckily, the alpha is less of a stranger than he realizes.

nights like this, i become afraid (ao3) - sleeponrooftops steve/tony E, 14k

Summary: He never expects it to happen like this.

No Magic Would Save Me (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic) pepper/tony M, 20k

Summary: Once upon a time, an angel with the unlikely name of Pepper came to the circus, and took Clint away.

peter's stars (ao3) - IronPengu, parkrstark steve/tony T, 175k

Summary: Steve and Peter lose their apartment and are kicked out on the streets. Steve has to juggle between jobs to earn whatever money he can, take care of his son while resfusing to let him realize how much they're trouble in, and keep them warm and safe on the city streets in winter.

So, he really doesn't have time to date the billionaire that flirts with him everyday as he buys his cup of coffee. Even if he did, he can't let himself fall for the man. Because if he knew that he lived from a backpack and showered in a public bathroom there's no way he'd still want him...right?

Problem Child (ao3) - TGP steve/bucky T, 123k

Summary: Two weeks after Steve wakes up, a kid hacks SHIELD and sets every computer to blast AC/DC at random. Now Steve’s looking after Howard’s kid and an evil alien is attacking the world. This is the best day ever. Really.

Steve might just find a way to go back in time and punch Howard in the face.

Put Away Childish Things (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic) ot9 M, 36k

Summary: Tony and Clint are captured by villains who can only get what they want from a child-Tony. So, obviously, they de-age him. Because comics.

Safe and (the) Sound (ao3) - 27dragons, tisfan bucky/tony, steve/natasha E, 84k

Summary: Tony dropped out of college to get away from his abusive father. When his longtime boyfriend reveals similar tendencies, Tony refuses to endure another moment of it, running away with nothing more than the cash in his pockets. He makes it to Virginia, where he’s taken in by Bucky, a restaurant owner looking for an extra hand who’s willing to be paid cash under the table.

Bucky’s been struggling for years: to keep the beachside restaurant he inherited from his parents above water (both financially and literally); to live down the fact that he’s gay in a small southern town; to get over the man who’s owned his heart since he was fourteen. But he’s never had to struggle as hard as he is now, to keep his hands off Tony.

Singing in the Dead of Night (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic) clint/sam, clint/omc E, 10k

Summary: On the Raft, Clint does a quick calculation of skill and experience, and takes care of things when a guard starts eyeing Wanda.

Strength of Materials (ao3) - harcourt

Summary: Written for this prompt where, still dealing with Phil's death and Loki's mindcontrol, Clint moves into the tower and,

the Avengers come across a series of odd or surprising behaviours. He is perfectly pleasant and fairly normal (for a world class assassin...) for the most part, so none of these oddities are concerning on their own, but slowly lead to the Avengers realising that while Clint basically worshipped the man, Coulson was quite emotionally abusive.

Who Saves The Hero (ao3) - CamelotQueen T, 15k

Summary: May brings home her new boyfriend. Something about him makes Peter feel nervous, but he makes May happy. And if May's happy, then Peter is happy.

Then it escalates.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #angst #tw #abuse tw #abuse #abuse masterlist #masterlists

[beomgyw]

RISE AND SHINE

(IN WHICH GRANDMA PUSHES THE YEONJUN/YOU AGENDA)

welcome your first day of work!! seeing that a lot of you are reading all of the timelines, i'm trying to keep the paths as different as possible, but i'm still sowwy if you have to read through too many similar scenarios apart from the common ones. trying my best !! oh, and sorry for the long wait :( COMMON TIMELINE WARNING: for those of you who are reading through all the paths, you'll get to this scenario more than once. there's no important details added, so you can skip it if you've fount it on another timeline! if you're new here, hi! this is a multi-choice beomjun love triangle au fic !! if you wanna choose your own paths, go back to the beginning!

the morning sun saunters into the room, painting the walls with a soft, golden glow. easy does it, unlike the chaotic wake-up calls of seoul's streets. you had to admit, dragging yourself out of bed felt like a breeze in this beach town, where the sun tiptoes in with a gentle whisper.

you wake up happy, and the promise of working at a bookstore—it just fits right for you. so, after a brief internal fashion showdown (do not refrain from consulting your pinterest for your fic of choice), you are dressed and ready to go. that's when the smell of grandma’s breakfast gets to your room.

“y/n, dear, quick! come down before breakfast gets cold!” grandma's voice chimes through the bottom floor. it's astonishing, the energy this woman has in the mornings.

downstairs, you find yourself face-to-face with a steaming bowl of haejjanguk. a subtle jab, maybe, but grandma doesn't comment on the soju-based-gathering huening kai and you had the night before. instead, she chooses to ask about something else.

“you didn't come back home alone last night, did you?” she pours herself some coffee, cool as if she had just asked about the weather, and settles across from you with her newspaper. "boyfriend, maybe?"

you nearly choke on your stew. “what? oh, uh, yeah– i mean, no. no way. grandma, i just got here.” you have absolutely no idea of how she knows, but somehow, she does.

your grandma raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to look up from the pages. “so what? you knew people before you left.”

“yeah, but i didn't even have time to– i couldn't have gotten a boyfriend in the span of one night, grandma,” you mutter. your grandma's seeming tranquility is what's taking you out of it.

"i don't know, kids are premature these days.” grandma muses, more to herself than to you. "so, who walked you home?"

you shrug, trying to play it cool. “just someone i knew from middle school. choi yeonjun.”

“just someone? you used to have a big crush on him when you were little, didn't you?” she lets the words hang in the air, fishing for a reaction.

“oh, come on, grandma, that was ages ago,” you protest. "and i didn't even like him that much..."

"really? because when we got your room repainted a few years back, you had this corner next to your bed with his name scribbled all over the wall..."

you curse yourself in your head. you really were an absolutely cringe kid. "that's just... children stuff..."

“could be... but, you know, your dad used to have a similar corner, with your mom's name.” she remarks casually. "he liked her since middle school, too. god knows why. his crush corner was worse; he drew little hearts around her name, even."

“why are you telling me all this again, grandma?” you ask, sipping on your stew, trying not to show how creepy her psychic abilities are.

“no particular reason,” she replies, "you're just costing me a fortune in repainting. and also because i don't think yeonjun is not that bad,"

"why would you not like him?" you ask. if you sounded defensive, your grandma ignored it.

"you know, he's a bit too much of a free spirit, but if you like him, i like him too... i'm a modern grandma." she says, and you keep quiet. this feels like a trap. “he might be unorthodox, but he's good looking, and he hangs with your cousin sometimes, which must mean he has a kind heart." she tells you. but then something dawns on her, "speaking of your cousin, why isn’t he up yet?” she questions, springing up from her seat with surprising vigor. she's got the energy of ten yous.

"the sun isn't even fully up yet..." you chime in, relieved for the change of subject. but the peace is short-lived. she's finished her coffee; ergo, she's finished her break. she's done with the interrogation bit. like a drill sergeant, she storms upstairs to wake kai up.

when she returns, she dives into the kitchen for clean-up duty without wasting a second. you attempt to lend a hand but receive a sharp slap on the wrist. "it’s summer, gran, cut him some slack," you say, rubbing the affected area with your other hand.

"slack? it's summer for you too, and you're off to work. unlike him. he works but doesn't get paid. he's a pushover, your cousin." grandma grumbles, her voice slicing through the clatter of dishes.

“what do you mean?” you prod.

“he does volunteer work,” she spits out. "spends more time at the geoje social centre than in his own bed. and it is nice of him, yes. but one must be kind, not stupid.”

curiosity burning, you press for more details. “volunteer work? what's he helping with?”

with a dismissive wave, grandma brushes off your inquiries. “who cares? all i know is he’s not getting paid for it.”

before you get a chance to dig deeper, huening stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, looking like he’s just fought a battle with his bedsheets. “you’re up already?” he groans at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“yeah, first day at work,” you reply with a sympathetic grin.

“oh, good luck." he smiles lazily, his words interrupted but a massive yawn. "wanna hang out later? i can come pick you up.”

“sure, hyuka. once you've fully woken up we can hang out,” you chuckle, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting your way to the door.

you grab you things and leave the house after ruffling huening´s hair in exchange for a dismissive hand gesture, as if he was trying to keep a bee away.

now off to work! or should you get coffee first?

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush

[bohemianwriter]

What brings this up is tonight my daughter is coughing. I have woken up almost every time. I came in once to check on her and a second time to lay with her. No one should be left alone when they are sick or scared. The trauma of not having my needs met in any way. Screaming at Aris age for my mom who never came. They ignored me! How could you?! How dare you! Ignoring a crying child. For your own benefit? Amusement?

It’s hard to rewrite everything you know or have seen and to show up like the parent I always wanted to have. How can I do this without a role model? I just know. I feel it. Our bond and our connection I have to go to her. It’s not a choice. To think how badly I was nurtured is a hard pill to swallow. Not only was I not supported but expected to support my parents and perform 110%. At 7.

I got a playroom with dozens of toys but no one to play with. I had to sneak around my father who was a complete brute. My mother was unstable at best. I never knew which mom I would get. The loving one or the triggered one. It was almost like well my baby died and this one will never live up. I even named her after the dead baby. Great. What in the fucking projection shit is that? My dad only did it to keep my mom around. I always felt “tolerated” not loved. The support I got was to make them look good. The adopted daughter that look turned out so successful. We saved her. No you didn’t. I might have been better off in an orphanage. At least I might have had support from the other orphans and friends. That’s how I always saw Oliver Twist or the Little princess and I’d dream and pray for the day my REAL mom would show up and take me away from this torturous place. She would scoop me up and take me to her beautiful home. I’m loved and wanted. I have smart siblings who love to laugh as much as me. It’s hard to live in reality when you’ve been fantasizing your whole life. I could never imagine my daughter feeling that way. And eventually probably around the time I started skating, I had given up the idea. So for about 10 years we just fought. I knew I wasn’t being treated right and became my own parent and best friend. This was especially true in middle school. A time when kids need the most support my parents turned their back on me. They should have never made me stay there for more than a year seeing how unhappy I am. If Ari came home crying from school every day I’d have meetings with her teachers and principal. I’d switch her schools immediately or let her be homeschooled. There is nothing to be learned in an environment like that except survival. And my mom kept me looking ugly. She liked it. She was always envious of my weight so instead of fattening me up she starved me. Literally. The saddest part. I never got to do fun things. I remember one spring break they told me we’d do stuff every day I’d wait at the office all day and then after I fixed and ate my own lunch alone I figured out we were going and that happened the entire break. I didnt get my birthday celebrated. And then after that the next year I didn’t even ask to do anything. This disappointing feeling was worse. It meant I still had hope these people I’m stuck with would take a genuine interest. Then when I started skating and saw the cost and how they were not going to support me regardless of my passion and talents. Pretty sure my dad only went to the competitions to spy on young girls. Not even joking. It was intuition. And a feeling that I still remember to this day. A pervert or predator it doesn’t matter. It was wrong. He never took me to class. Never asked my coach how to train. He didn’t help except financially but sometimes it felt like they threw money at me so they didn’t have to deal with me.

[haven-gum-rockrose]

Completely oversharing vent over here

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Wow it's so wild to me when kids know things. Not cuz I think kids are stupid, those bitches are fucking genius and learning incarnate. But I grew up so so sheltered and didn't know anything until i was like 13-15 and started asking people in PE about puberty and sex ed and shit because i was a teenager who didnt even know proper terms for anything and had to ask a friend if vagina was a fucking curse word. never had any of these talks with my parents and like- adulting shit? i never heard about any of that until econ classes in senior year. or government classes also senior year(aside from like a bunch of trump jokes we made in middle school) both of which i had to play catchup in. theyre all like "act your age" and meanwhile im over here convinced that they may have actually permanently stunted me from ever fully maturing into a functioning adult. i still feel like- fucking fourteen or thirteen or twelve or something and act even younger and its bullshit. i knew that the middle finger was so so bad but didnt learn what a fucking slur was til Highschool when the teacher was like "nobody try to be funny, its pronounced Niger River." and i had to go do my own research as to why that was so bad. never had any talk about safety in any situation ever except when i told them i had online friends and they were like "you know theyre all old perverts right?" and that was the end of it. as if i hadnt already looked up internet safety myself, because how else does a person learn anything? The only safety lessons I got were "don't answer phone calls or open the door or have your face anywhere ever because if you do your crazy borderline personality disorder and paranoid schizophrenic older sister that we left in the psych ward on the other side of the country is going to find us and she's going to hurt you and your sister and your brothers" like she was a fucking boogeyman. That's you fucking daughter. Or your husband's daughter at least. AND IT'S LITERALLY THEM WHO REFUSED TO GIVE HER THE RIGHT MEDS AND MADE HER WORSE. And I don't even know her but now she has a daughter?? And suddenly they're like you should call her! As if she wasn't the scary story you told me all growing up? You mean the girl you said locked me in the bathroom and hit me with Dad's jeans or some shit when I was a baby? Like yeah it's not her fault, it's yours, but I don't want to fucking talk to her, I don't know her. Agh anyways. That got off topic. The point is. How the fuck do eleven year olds know about healthcare I learned about that shit at 16-17 I'm so dumb so very dumb.