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zillennial97 · 3 years

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Enemies to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante | 112k | Mature

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Dance to the Distortion by Lis (domesticharry) | 96k | Explicit

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles | 47k | Explicit

"Alright, I know you guys are the best of friends but I'd like you to do this for the rest of the team,” Cowell says, making the rest of the team snicker. "So I want both of you to compliment each other." "I hate your trainers. I mean that in the nicest way possible. They're very...yellow," Louis says, arms crossed as he offers a fake close-lipped grin. "It's really nice of you to blow anyone you find slightly attractive," Harry replies, a sickening sweet smile on his lips. "Thank you, children, let me remind you this is a college hockey team. Try again," Coach says, completely unamused.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

Wonderwall by AFangirlFantasy | 43k | General Audiences

Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

“You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

All the Right Moves by cherrystreet | 32k | Explicit

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 32k | Explicit

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups | 31k | Explicit

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

We're Like Bumper Cars by sincehewaseighteen | 31k | Explicit

“I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--”

“Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy,” Harry teases. “You haven’t won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven’t even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you’ve won.”

Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. “Trophies prove it all, Styles.”

“Where’s your trophy for biggest asshole?”

“Where’s yours for winning cross country?”

Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss.

Or the AU where Louis and Harry are rivals of the century and Cross Country competitors before things get complicated and they play pretend.

After Hours by Velvetoscar for shipsdrifting | 26k | Not Rated

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.

[A "You've Got Mail" AU]

When It's Late At Night by Rearviewdreamer | 25k | Mature

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

Love Me Please by angelichl | 23k | Explicit

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

runnin' like you did by orphan_account | 20k | Explicit

“Should we tell him?”

When Lauren is met with everyone either nodding their heads or shrugging, she takes a deep breath. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious by now.” She stalls, sounding ominous and Louis doesn’t like it one bit.

“What is obvious by now?” Louis asks. He’s starting getting anxious. “I swear to God, spit it out. Stop being so damn cryptic.”

“I—We think it’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with Harry,” she states simply and shrugs as if she isn’t telling him he’s in love with the second—Nick being the first—most annoying person on the planet.

or, a college au where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles

Three French Hems by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews | 20k | Mature

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

That's How I Know by allwaswell16 | 19k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

Get Off of My Cloud by Marora_Daris | 9k | Explicit

Harry is the most annoying neighbour that sexually frustrated Louis could have. Niall decides it's a good idea to handcuff them together.

Featuring guinea pigs, animal print leggings and inappropriate boners.

Erase My History, (Expo)se Me by BayouSexual, pacificrimjob for Edandcurly | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

“My hair does not smell like strawberries.”

Louis blinks up at Mr. Styles. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this. ~~~~~~~~ Or the one where Harry and Louis both teacher history, their students think they should date, and one pink dry-erase marker is trying to ruin their lives (with a little help of course).

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #hate to love #enemies with benefits

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alarriefantasy · 4 years

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Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

#deleted fics #objectlesson #horsegirlharry #larry fics #larry stylinson #larry fic rec

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 12. The Caged Bird Sings

‘i am sorry this world could not keep you safe may your journey home be a soft and peaceful one' rest in peace, Rupi Kaur

For as long as I can remember, every time we went out as a family, Louis, Lourdes, and I would fight for the window seats of the car. It's simply what happens when there's three siblings, and only two window seats. When it was a private occasion, my father would drive, mom by his side, and we would fight in the backseat. When it was a formal royal occasion, our parents would take a separate car and the three of us would ride with a driver and a security officer by his side, and we would fight in the backseat. That was how we drove that day, with one exception.

Lourdes and I were not fighting for the window seat.

The procession of the coffin was televised live. It rode through the streets on top of a royal carriage, draped with the Savoy flag with the royal coat of arms, a large arrangement of white roses sat atop monstera leaves, Louis' favorite, according to Peter, which we decided to use to underline the roses all over the church.

Cadie had informed me major networks from around 62 countries had applied for broadcasting rights and permits to send journalists to cover it. Savoy had never been a very famous monarchy before, the British usually took up all the air time, but today was different. Tragedy sells, I suppose.

The actual funeral lasted roughly two hours, from the moment we left the house on a stuffy and warm car, to the moment we left the church. I felt sweat in the back of my head and my hands itched, but there was nothing I could do. The gates were still crowded when we left the palace, but Lourdes and I found it difficult to look at the people; it hurt too much.

Though the streets were lined with people who’d gathered to watch us pass, watching the funeral on transmissions around parks, or listening to it on the radio, it was also unnervingly silent. The only noise was a general hum of sniffling, or sometimes loud crying, and the eventual shout from the crowd, with messages of support to our parents or ourselves, and promises to our brother that he wouldn’t be forgotten.

It was exhausting, looking stoically ahead pretending to be unbothered by the fact that my brother shouldn’t have to be remembered, he should have been here. He should have had the chance to leave his mark in the world. He had such plans for his country and the rule he’d play in it.

"Ma'am?" Joyce asked, from the front seat. "Do you need anything?"

Quietly, I shook my head no, and she repeated the question to my sister. Cadie would normally ride with us, but right before we left the palace, she had informed me it wasn't possible.

"Apparently," she had told me, "your new security protocol means you must have two protection officers with you at all times."

I pushed this new crum of information into a little box along with all the other questions I had about my new role within the royal family. My little box was heavy, full, cracking open against my will, but today was not the day to open it.

We walked behind out parents, Louis being carried ahead by the Royal Guards down the aisle to the sound of the Sainte Marie Madeleine Cathedral choir, a capella, singing I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say. The gothic Cathedral had been laid with white brick, which had become beige with time, but was still bright and lively, with purple and blue window glass and high domes.

"I heard the voice of Jesus say,

'Come unto Me, and rest;

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down

Thy head upon My breast'."

The Choir repeated the words until we were at the altar, where we stood, now a family of four, before my parents did the sign of the cross, and walked on to take their seats lining the sides of the altar, reserved for royals and family, and today occupied by us, our family on our mother's side, and foreign royals, who were always given family placement.

Unfortunately for me, Harry, his father and brother, had all been seated to the opposing side of the altar, which meant he was completely in my line of vision for the duration of the service.

Lourdes and I waited until our parents had walked on before we touched our foreheads, chest, and both shoulders in name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, before taking our seats next to our parents in the front row. It wasn't necessary to do the sign of the cross at the altar, though traditionally Catholics did it whenever we passed any church, but after a few tabloids criticized us for not doing it on church services in the past, simply because they didn't see us do it when we got out of the car, we had been instructed to do it as publicly as possible, so people could see.

Before out parents, place only former monarchs could occupy, sat our grandparents, so Lourdes and I lined up to curtsey and kiss their cheeks before taking out seats. Her mind was too far gone and she mostly didn’t speak anymore, but after I kissed her, my grandmother found my hand and held on tightly before I could move away. I looked at her, confused, and tried to give her a comforting smile; she reached over and cupped my cheek.

"Dieu vous bénisse." ‘God bless you’, she stuttered, voice rispid, low.

"Amen." I responded, on the same tone, squeezing her hand before standing up.

But she held me still, stronger than I thought she could be at her age. Instead, she pulled me down again, pulling my head beside hers to kiss my cheek.

Whispery, in my ear, she asked how I was. "Comment allez-vous?"

Avoiding the looks from my family around us due to the delay, I responded quickly that I was well. "Bien, grand-mère."

I pulled away again, but again she pulled me close. "Je ne te crois pas. Mais vous pouvez le faire."

'I don't believe you. But you can do this.'

Finally allowing me to go, she petted my hand and smiled. I lowered my head and took my seat.

The Archbishop began to speak as I braved to look at the first rows below, to make sure Peter was with friends, and in a close enough seat.

"We are gathered here today, to give thanks to our Lord, for the life of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Louis-Adolphe of Savoy, seeking the comfort of the Holy Ghost for the hearts that will miss him most, after this untimely departure..."

I tried to tune out, but I couldn't. I heard every heartbreaking word. The Archbishop spoke of my brother's short life, of his joyful spirit that drew all around him closer, and asked that we may all remember him for his smile, and joy, and the joy he brought others.

There was a hymn, which I couldn't hear. When we stood up to sing, opening our programs, I remembered choosing the font, the songs, the paper. I remembered we chose On Eagles Wings, to be sang then by the student choir of the catholic boarding school Louis had attended, but the words did not register. Instead, I felt my heart beating in my head, almost lightheaded. Was it just me, or was it too warm? Had the Air coolers been turned on? I couldn't stop fidgeting with my gloves.

Finally, my mother reached out and held my right hand. The gesture took my by surprise, as she had barely looked at me for a week. She pressed out hands together tightly, but continued to sing following along to the words on her program.

She was wearing a black, wrap coat-dress with large, white lapels and cuffs, tight at the waist but round in the skirt that extended past her knees. Her large, round hat was black with white flowers on top, and I noticed that she wasn't wearing her usual statement necklace today. Instead, from her neck hang only a thin, gold scapular medal. I couldn't confirm without coming closer, but I suspected it was the Saint Sebastian scapular that had belonged to my brother.

We all got a scapular necklace on our confirmation day, as teenagers, and Louis had picked Saint Sebastian as his patron saint because he was the patron of athletes. The thought made me smile in that dreadful day.

After the song, we sat down as the Archbishop announced one of Louis’ closest friends from the Edinburgh University Polo team, of which my brother was the captain. He read a bible passage, and then there was another song. This was followed by the Prime Minister, a central-left leaning middle aged man, who took the stand to make a brief statement on how proud my brother had made his country, with particular focus to his time on the military.

There was yet another hymn, when I noticed my sister’s hands were shaking. I tried to think of something to comfort her, maybe hold her hands in mine like my mother had done, but this was when I noticed I, too, was shaking.

As the Cathedral fell silent after the song, Lourdes knew it was her turn to take to the altar and read the poem I had found her. But my sister didn’t move.

“Hey.” I whispered, leaning towards her. Her shaky hands fumbled with the program, which stated she was next, and me after her, but she still didn’t get up. “Lourdes?”

“Are you alright, dear?” Our mother asked, leaning over me. Lourdes gave her a quick, bitter look, and sighed.

“I can’t, Maggie.” She whispered, her voice nearly breaking.

I passed a hand up and down her back, comforting, and leaned over, so no one could see my response.

“It’s okay. I’ll go up with you. It’s just reading, you can do it.” I nodded, looking at her. She looked at me uncertain, so I nodded, encouragingly. “I’m next anyway. I’ll go with you. We can do it.”

She looked at the altar, down at the rest of the full Cathedral, and at the menacing cameras, “Nothing we can’t fix, right?”

I smiled. “Nothing at all.”

We stood together, and step by step took to the large, wooden pulpit, covered with black silk, avoiding looking at the coffin, or, in my case, at anyone else. I kept my hand to my sister’s back, hoping it was comforting, and she found the copy of the poem already at the altar, waiting for her.

“When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety.”

She did really well. She read poetry the way we were taught as children, enunciating the words clearly, reading each line slowly, taking pauses to look up and connect with the audience. She almost didn’t stutter at all, if it weren’t for the ending.

“Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened.”

I had chosen a poem slightly vague in the hope it would be easier for Lourdes, but even in her tender age of thirteen she could understand the final verses, the ones where it stopped being about trees, and started being about souls. That’s when she choked, paused, cleared her throat, and continued with a shaky, whispery voice the microphone barely captured.

“...And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us.” She paused again, and I saw tears stain the paper, “They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better.” She looked up, bravely. “For they existed.”

She took some time to fold the page, looking down, and then looked at me with trembling lips.

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, drying her eyes.

“You did great.” I whispered, petting her back.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

The question, the sweet, selfless concern for me even through her anguish, brought a knot to my throat that I had to swallow in order to speak. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

She stepped down from the altar and walked back to our seats, where mom reached out her hand before she sat down and pulled her over to my seat.

In the pulpit in front of me, right under Lourdes’ poem, sat the two pages with my eulogy, a letter I wrote to my brother, thanking him for being a wonderful, faultless, military man. Louis himself would have hated it -- we both knew our time in the armed forces was a brief rite of passage at best, a PR stunt at worst.

But it was when I looked down, and moved the folded page of Lourdes’ poem behind my letter, that I decided I couldn’t read it. The words were still visible, ‘we can be, be and be better, for they existed’.

Taking in a deep breath, I looked up, down the many, filled rows in the wide Cathedral, and did the one thing I had been taught from infancy never to do: I improvised.

“Dear--”, I cleared my throat, a little taken by the sudden volume of my voice in the microphone, “Dear--”

The thing is, we’re not meant to be personal -- royals, I mean. We’re meant to be an institution one should admire, but not necessarily relate to. If people relate to us it begs the question, why are we needed? Why are we special? But… as I bit my lower lip in anxiety so hard it actually hurt, watching all the faces in front of me, I knew there was simply no other option. I couldn’t do this to him. I couldn’t erase who he was over who the family needed him remembered as.

So instead of starting by addressing the congregation, I skipped to the part I knew was more important.

“This past week my family and I have experienced kindness like never before. Not only from our dear family and friends, but from people all over the country we have never had the joy to meet. We were born and raised here, and as such, each of us already knew that at the hearts of every Savoyen, by birth or choice, lays incomparable kindness and compassion to our neighbours.”

The next part was a thank you to every branch of government and official who had expressed their sentiments that past week, but it wasn’t important. So I skipped it. “My brother was Savoyen, and as such, he had that in common with all of you.”

I should have read the part about his time in the military and how it shaped who he became, but I knew it wasn’t true. It had changed him, sure, like everything in his life, but it wasn’t important either. So I thought of Louis, of his last pieces of advice, about standing up for myself and deserving nice things… and improvised.

“Louis-Adolphe always strived to highlight the best possible outcome to any circumstance. He seeked to always see people not for who they were, but for who they could be. He had some kind of innate goodness that always made me feel slightly guilty for not being better, which he would have been upset to find out, because he never allowed anyone around him to speak ill of themselves.”

I looked to the section of the Cathedral where his friends were sitting, his university friends, traveled from Scotland, and his old boarding school friends, who’d come from all over the country, and some from all over the world, to be here, to remember him.

“He went out of his way to make people feel welcomed, accepted, equal. I have heard from more than one old classmate that they never thought Louis really knew their name before he reached out and asked them, by name, if they wanted to sit with him and his friends for lunch, or be part of their group for a project. You may have heard similar stories over the past week, and I hope you’ll continue to as the time goes by. But if I’m honest, and I think my brother would have told me to be… as much as those stories are heartwarming and comforting at this terrible time… they’re only one part of who my brother was. They’re true, yes, but… my brother was more than that.”

I stared at the paper, more to distract myself from the confused looks from my older family members than anything else. My brother wasn’t just the achievements worthy of the family tree. He was more.

“The problem with remembering someone as a perfect, faultless public figure is that in memorializing them we also risk romanticizing them, and what is that if not erasing part of who they were in favor of creating a beautiful, shiny memory that is, if not real, just easier to remember?”

All eyes on me now looked… intrigued. Worried. I had a pulsating stomach ache and my heart was beating too fast, so I looked, at last, to my left, and found the pair of blue eyes that I knew would not be judgemental. I was right. Harry was looking at me with the same soft yearning that had made me so uncomfortable in London, only a week ago. It gave me strength to continue.

“I want my brother to be remembered, but I want him to be remembered for who he was.” I told them, “Louis… Louis was real. Real as in that quote from The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, that our mother read to us as children, ‘Real isn’t how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to you.’ It’s what happens when you are loved for a long, long time. ‘Once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand’. My brother should have been loved much longer, but he was real.”

I felt the pain in my throat before hearing my magnified voice break. I paused, drawing in a long, deep breath.

“He had a… sarcastic, teasing sense of humor. He had a lot of opinions on things most of us don’t think too much about. If you weren’t drinking a Manhattan or a Sidecar, he likely had thoughts about your choice of drink. He thought cargo shorts should be abolished. He thought modern art was boring. He called dibs on the window seat in every car ride. He hated driving, but also hated having to walk anywhere farther than six blocks, and he hated peas.”

I heard a low chuckle, and looking to my right, I was faced with the sight of my own father silently laughing to himself, eyes closed, my mother’s hand in his. It gave me strength to continue.

“You heard from Jackson earlier how passionate he was on the Edinburgh University Polo team, and though I agree with him, I think he would agree with me that despite the passion, Louis wasn’t great at polo... He was okay.” I shrugged, casually, drawing a general chuckle from the piews. The smiles gave me strength to continue.

“He wasn’t some undiscovered genius, but he was really smart. Louis started studying classics in University, he loved literature and philosophy… but he later changed to social anthropology and social policy, because he… he wanted to better understand the world. He wanted to learn how to be better for, well… for you. For his country.”

“My brother should have been loved much longer, but he was loved.” In the front rows, after our extended family, I could see Peter. He had a friend holding his hand, but his eyes were on me, a smile in his lips. “Not just by us. Not just by you. By the people outside this Cathedral. By the wonderful people outside of our home right now, who have congregated at our gates every day this week to be together, to honor him, to bring flowers to a boy they should have had the time to meet. I’m so sorry you haven’t. You should have. He would have loved to meet you… He loved attention.”

I laughed, just as I felt two tears escape my eyes, and tried to catch them in my gloved hands as fast as I could, but my voice was now strained, shaky.

I stared at the paper, at the wishes of better days that would surely come, every word made more bitter than the last. So I didn’t read them. Instead, I thought of what my brother would have wanted.

“If I was a better person… Better yet, if I was Louis-Adolphe, I would finish this with an optimistic reminder to all the good that is yet to come despite the pain we are in today. My brother would want us to know that we can come together through hard times and come out stronger than before.”

But that was the biggest tragedy: my brother had wanted a lot of things. He wanted a graduation, parties, trips. He wanted to come out to our parents and to be his truest self while helping our country grow and thrive. But he would never have that chance.

“But I am not him. And I will continue to try to be the better version of me he thought I could be, but today, I am not.” Another tear fell down my cheeks, as I struggled to speak through an aching throat. “Today I am just his sister, who won’t get to see him graduate from University in six months, who won’t get to stand with him on his wedding day, or tease him when he inevitably became an annoyingly protective father. Today my parents lost their only son, my sister, who is too young to be wearing black, knows what grief feels like, and far too many people with a lot of love for my brother in their hearts, don’t know where to put it.”

In my seat, Lourdes was crying again. Our mother reached an arm around her shoulders and, this time, Lourdes didn’t flinch.

“Today I understand W. H. Auden when he said, ‘The stars are not wanted now; put out every one… For nothing now can ever come to any good.’ I understand Frost’s ‘Nothing gold can stay.’ Today I just… miss him. So, yes, as Louis would remind us, there will be good. We will come together. But today?” I sighed, as I caught another tear in my cheek. “Today he existed, he was real. And maybe just for today, that’s enough.”

There was a moment, a few seconds long, of silence, where I realized I didn’t know how to end it. So I merely looked down, and back up before saying, “Thank you.” And moved to leave.

As I turned, seeing the look on the Archbishop’s eyes, I remembered I was supposed to introduce the next song, so I turned around, back to the pulpit, just as we heard a loud, distant rumble from outside. Confused, I looked around, checking if there was some kind of emergency, but the doubt was quickly extinguished. It was the crowd outside. They were… cheering.

I looked at my father, uncertain, but he was smiling up at me with a sad look in his eyes.

“In honor of my brother, our dear family friend, Constance Parrish-von-Bernstein, will now perform one of his favorite songs to destroy at karaokes.”

It was Drops of Jupiter, and she did an amazing, if very Constance, job. My friend was wearing a midi length black dress and her short, freshly blonde hair, had been styled with fifties curls that matched the simple, round, black fascinator with a see-through fishnet partly covering her eyes. She was accompanied by the Cathedral’s orchestra, and started as poised as the occasion, and her look, demanded.

But after the first chorus, there was a drum beat, violins, and a soul vacation, chasing her way through a constellation, and I don’t think Constance could have sand the words ‘plain ol' Jane, told a story about a man, who was too afraid to fly so he never did land’ with any less energy than she did, which is precisely why she was the right person for this, because that was the only way my brother ever sang that song, if in a much worse voice. By the time she sang the bridge, Constance’s voice was louder, her hands were in the air, her eyes closed, and her performance so beautifully her own we couldn’t help but smile.

My cousins then took turns leading the standing congregation on the Lord’s Prayer, before a minister delivered a short message of togetherness on the face of tragedy. Then there was another song and by the end, my father stood and walked to the pulpit, ready to deliver his own eulogy.

He walked calmly, stood before the pulpit with unshaken hands, looked up with sadness in his eyes, and started speaking about Louis. He spoke strongly, clearly, but not without some nostalgia to his words. Every ‘was’ instead of ‘is’ in reference to my brother was, after all, a dagger to the heart. My whole life, my father had been a steady, stoic presence; it was in his nature, it’s how he was raised. He was born to be king and kings had a duty to be an unwavering sign of comfort and strength. At times such as today, it was hard to remember this facade may be just that: a mask; something he did for the country, not for us, not for Louis, nor himself.

“And thus, my son,” he went on, lively, if sadly, “was a powerful light through the darkness, not only in our lives, but I’m sure, in yours as well. In the lives of all those lucky enough to have met him. From an early age we knew he had in his heart a natural love for his home that so many of us can relate to, a need to see Savoy and its people standing strong, well represented, well cared for. It’s what he did, it’s who he was. A carer. I wish--”

He gulped, and one of his hands came up to cover his mouth in an anxious move. His hand was shaking.

“Today, I am sure Louis-Adolphe would have rested easy, knowing our future rests in good hands...” He paused, dramatically, staring down at his printed speech, “...that of my brave, intelligent, capable daughter, Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy, who, as his older sister, helped us teach my son to love his home and, I have no doubts, will excel in this new role as she has in everything else in her life.”

Feeling my heart beating in my throat - and the eyes of the entire Cathedral on me -, I didn’t stop looking at my father. His eyes found me now.

“Her brother would have been as proud and supportive of her as we are.”

I looked down, motionless. He continued to speak for another while, before thanking the country for their support and stepping down. When he reached us again, he stopped before me, grabbed my hands in his and pulled me to my feet, enveloping me in a quick, strong hug, before stepping away again, back to his seat, his eyes avoiding mine.

I was so utterly confused it took me a long time to realize we had to stand up again. The Archbishop led us in a final prayer, blessed my brother’s coffin, and soon the choir was singing again.

I tried to focus, to center myself around the only thing that mattered today -- Louis. But just as I risked a look up, my eyes found Harry again. His lips moved calmly to the song, his eyes on the lyrics on his program.

‘...my brave, intelligent, capable daughter, Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy’, the words ringed in my ears just as Harry looked up, his eyes darting straight to me, with purpose. When they met mine, I could see it: his hands on mine, his lips on mine, his life with mine, as one.

I felt a chill down my spine just as I remembered my father’s voice again, claiming his conviction that I would ‘excel in this new role as she has in everything else in her life.’ Painfully, I took my eyes from his, feeling my palms sweating again.

My sister asked if I was okay and I didn’t know how to respond. For a whole week, feeling lost and helpless, he had avoided me. Delegated his own son’s funeral to me, demanded no one call me Crown Princess, allowed my mother to self-exile in her room, avoided any request to meet with me, refusing to answer any pertinent question because it was ‘not the time’. One week when all I had was a moody teenager and a lot of plans that needed to be made, and I had nothing from him. Even in private, in his office, in our home, I was left alone.

One week when not only us, but the entire country mourned and waited with baited breath, probably wandering, as I was, if I was capable of my new role. All I wanted, all I had needed, was for him to tell me I was. To explain what I needed to do, what was coming, and all I had was nothing.

Lourdes pulled me to my feet as the royal guards prepared to carry the coffin out again; the funeral was over. The choir still echoed the words of Blest Are They as we filed behind my parents to make our exit, and I felt sick to my stomach. Walking out of our seat area, down the steps to the aisle, I stole one last look to the life I could have had; Harry was already looking at me, my sadness in his eyes. His brother was looking at him, intrigued. I gulped, and stared ahead.

I wanted to remove my gloves, but Lourdes was holding my hand and refusing to let go. I started biting my lower lip, trying to keep it from trembling as I felt a knot in my throat. We started filing out, the coffin leading the way, my parents behind, and each of us in the order of the line of succession, but I stopped.

I couldn’t move. My feet felt too heavy on the floor, the memory of my brother’s body inside his new wooden home, too heavy in my head. How was I meant to believe I could take on any of it? My own father couldn’t say it to me, even if he did seem to be able to say to the entire world. Did he even mean it? Or was that line about just one more thing he did for the benefit of the country?

On my left, Lourdes was holding on to my hand and asking if I was okay, reminding me we had to move. I felt myself breathless, heart beating painfully in my chest, when another hand reached for my right one. I looked over, finding Christopher.

“Hey, bunny.” He whispered, a small smile on his lips. “Are you okay?”

He’d been sitting in one of the first rows, close to Peter and Faye, right after the initial rows with our extended family members. It was almost right next to this spot I seemed to have frozen.

“It’s okay, love,” he added, grasping tighter to my hand with both of his, “I’m here, I’m right here with you, we can do this.”

He passed an arm around my shoulders and led us out of the Cathedral.

I didn’t stop to remember it was a bad idea. I didn’t think that Chris wasn’t family, and so had to wait until we were all out before he could leave with the other guests, I didn’t think of the optics. He was there, warm hand in mine, reminding me my life had been calm and happy once, when he was in it, and if so I could get there again.

So I just held on to the past and tried to ignore the awful, heartless present.

--- ---- ---

The burial was private and fast. The Priest who baptized Louis made a final prayer. My mother cried harder than I had ever seen before. Lourdes fell apart, but allowed me to hold her. I watched, struggling to breathe, wondering if we would ever feel anything other than that pain.

We didn’t have time to compose ourselves, we were just expected to, and then had to be presentable for the post-funeral reception where we stood, side by side, as a family, while our guests came by to give us their condolences and say nice things about the service.

In between people, I tried to talk to my parents, but never could. My father always had an advisor or politician in his ear about work; my mother was still glassy eyed and distant, and seemed to notice none of my words, just how my hat looked. Even if they did seem to listen, I found myself having to choose between them and Lourdes, who was neither eating or drinking, and eventually started to look like she was about to faint, so I found Natalie and had her and her sister Sarah take her to her room and make sure she rested.

Eventually, when we were done talking to people, I cornered my father before another official approached.

“Papa,” I started, as softly as possible, trying to remind myself to be delicate in these trying times, “I want to talk about your eulogy today.”

“Was it bad?” He asked, fixing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You did wonderfully, honey.”

“I need to talk about… this. About my new position, my new title–”

He sighed. “Not now, Maggie.”

“Why?” I asked. “You were willing to talk about it to everyone from the pulpit today--”

“The advisors told me there had been unrest about… all of this. Some assurance of our support was needed.”

“Is that it?” I asked, almost laughing, humorlessly, “Is the support even real or-?”

“I told you, not now, Maggie.”

“When? It’s been a week, I have questions, I have… a job–”

“Margueritte.” He admonished, harsh, but whispery. “Your brother’s body hasn’t been in the ground for one hour, I think you’ll find this can wait.”

Schooling his features to be as stoic as the public knew them to be, he turned away from me and the conversation was over.

I felt guilty almost immediately. I told myself he was right. It was too soon. There would be plenty of time. We didn’t need to rush this just because I was impatient… but my hands shook. A knot so big took over my throat I could no longer breathe. I turned around, ready to find the next person I had to talk to, but couldn’t. So I left the room in hurried steps and, alone in the hallway, ran towards the South staircase, taking off my shoes as soon as I could so I could run faster.

I knew this was stupid, I knew I was needed. It was my job, my duty, to stay and make conversation, build a sense of togetherness with our family and supporters. Still, my throat hurt from the knot I was trying to suppress, and my head hurt too much, and I was so tired of pretending to be fine when I wanted nothing more than to explode into a million pieces.

In the upper floor, closer to the South wing, there was a set of simple double doors to the servants’ passages, a set of corridors that in old times were used to get through the palace without being seen, and staff today used as shortcuts. It was emptier, more private, so I walked in and climbed up the stone stairs towards the west tower, no clue where I was going, but glad to be alone.

My shoes became too heavy in my hands and my head hurt too much, so I dropped my shoes to the floor, telling myself I could come find them later, and started trying to pull out the bobby pins in my hair to remove my fascinator, but there were too many of them, and my hands were shaking, and it was all too much, and I was afraid to trip on the steps, and finally I could only pull my hair and scream, throwing the few pins in my hands to the floor, closing my eyes tightly and hoping I could just pass out and wake up months into the future when things were… better.

I painted, breathless, and finally allowed the tears I’d been suppressing to fall freely down my cheeks.

“Marie--?”

Jumping slightly, I turned back to see Harry. He had my shoes in his hand like we were in Cinderella, if Cinderella had been in the middle of a mental breakdown when the prince found her.

Overcome by shame and regret, I cried harder, letting out a cold, sarcastic scoff.

“Mon Dieu, of course you’re here!” I patted my cheeks with my cheeks with both hands, trying to dry them as I continued up the stairs.

“Marie, I just want to help--”

“I’m fine!” I told him, not turning back, but he raced up, past me, blocking my way.

“You’re not,” he whispered, “and that’s okay.”

“I’m telling you, it’s fine, I’ll be fine!”

He held onto my arms when I tried to move past him, and I felt the knot in my throat get worse, and more tears escape my eyes, and my knees buckle as, back to the wall, I slid down to sit on the stone steps, now crying openly, against my will.

“I’m fine!” I said, rather uselessly, amidst a hiccup, “I’ll be fine, just go away.”

He sat down in front of me, still holding onto my arms, unbearably close.

“Okay.” He said. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. I just wanted to say… that you don’t have to be fine right now…”

I shut my eyes as the pain moved away from my throat through my whole body; I gave up trying to contain my tears, it wasn’t like he couldn’t see them, anyway. So, before he got up, I just reached over and grabbed two fistfulls of his suit and kept him in place. I didn’t so much lean forward to cry on him, as I just… fell. As if I didn’t have the strength to sit up anymore. As if his chest was magnetic; as if my head belonged in the crease of his neck.

His arms wrapped around me and, miraculously, I wasn’t ashamed anymore. I wanted to be, I felt I should be, but I wasn’t. I felt… hurt. Broken. Lonely. But not ashamed. I felt his warm palms smooth over my back in a calming motion, and my crying only got louder.

“I can’t do this.” I cried. “I can’t do this…”

“Hey, hey…” He whispered, “Of course you can.”

I shook my head, “My brother is gone, Harry.”

His arms tightened around me. “I know.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can.” He repeated. “Even he knew it. You were one of the smartest people he knew.”

“Even my father doesn’t think I can.”

“Your father is only human.” He looked down, cupping my cheek with his hand so I’d look at him. “He is flawed.”

I was unprepared for the blue hue of his eyes up close, after so long. I could almost count his faint freckles. The sight was so astonishing it almost calmed me. I sat back up, leaning back from his only slightly.

“And if he can’t see how amazing you’ll be at this, then it only proves it. I can see it… Your brother could see it… Those people outside of the Cathedral today could see it. Didn’t you hear them cheering for you?” His lips curled into a smile at the memory, “They can already picture you in a crown.”

I shut my eyes forcefully again. “It’s not, not that simple… I have a job, I have--”

“Marie.” He stopped me, holding on to both my hands with his, “I know. I know this is a lot… but there’s no part of this that I don’t think you can do.”

We let the silence sit still for a moment. When I looked at him, his profile illuminated by the window behind him, I was reminded of how handsome he looked in a suit. Feeling ashamed of this very thought, I raised my hand to feel my hair, realizing it was as messy as I had left it when he surprised me. I started trying to pull out the bobby pins when he looked at me.

“Heavy hat?” He asked, a soft attempted smile in his lips.

I scoffed, sarcastic, “Heavy is the head that wears the… hat.”

He sat up, coming closer to me, and tentatively, started to feel around my hair slowly with his hands for the pins. Finally realizing just how dramatic the moment had been, I finally felt the full embarrassment I had earned in the moment. But the silence was... comforting; it felt warm, and the touch of his fingers made me want to lay my head in his chest and fall asleep.

“I know it’s a lot.” He said, whispery. “But for whatever is worth, I liked your eulogy.”

“...I improvised.”

He smiled. “I thought you may have. It was good, sincere, and appropriate...ish.”

I took my eyes from his chest, finding his eyes focused on my hair, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He looked at me. “Here in… the stairs?”

“In the country. For the funeral.”

He nodded. “Me too. I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure it was, appropriate.”

“...Ish.” I teased, making him smile.

“Had to fight for them to let me come. They only said yes because you guys were over only a couple of days before.”

He pulled a couple of pins, and put them in his pocket to free his hands.

“...Did you ever wonder?” I asked; his eyes found mine, but he focused on my hair again quickly after. “What you would do if, God forbid, if this happened to you?” I explained.

His hands stopped moving; he brought them down, putting another couple of pins in his pocket. He seemed thoughtful for a few seconds, but still not any closer to an answer.

“No, of course not.” I answered for him. “Changes to lines of succession are such a thing of the past. With all our security and the eyes of the world on us, who could ever think something like this was possible?”

He sighed, and I thought his eyes might look watery, but it could have been my own.

Eventually he pulled the last pin and ran his hands around my hair one more time, slowly.

“I think that’s it. How do I--?” He pulled out my fascinator, and I smoothed my hands over my hair, feeling the presence of one more pin that I didn’t have the energy to pull out.

He held out his hands to give me the pins, but I was too busy looking into his eyes, so instead he put them all in his jacket pocket, and the hat next to my shoes.

“I want to say something, but all I can think of is asking if you’re alright.”

When I scoffed, sarcastically, he shook his head, blushing. “I know, stupid question. I just…” He looked at me, “I want to say something, but I don’t know what.”

“Me too.” We sat in silence, when I tried to lighten the moment. “Though I’m surprised you can’t think of anything. No inopportune questions? No sage wisdom about how to survive grief in the public sphere from the expert?”

He grinned. “Right, the expert… Prince Harry and his perfectly functional childhood, who never went to Vegas or wore a terrible costume to a party…”

And then I laughed; a sincere, heartfelt, short laugh. Can you imagine?

“I don’t know… you turned out okay.”

“I’m obviously not a great person to ask… but,” he sighed, “I guess, distraction. Distraction would be my best advice.”

“Use distractions to suppress the pain, got it.”

He laughed, something that still felt rare and exciting, even amidst all of this.

“Not what I said! Just… you know… time will do most of the work, you know? In… well, I hate to sound like a therapist, but in healing. You’ll need time. It’ll feel like too much time. It’ll feel like time is slowing down, but… time is the only thing that helps. And until time passes, there will be... a lot. The press, the rumors, as soon as they can’t milk the funeral for headlines anymore, they’ll start to make things up. So, from the pain and from the outside mess, I suggest…”

“Distraction.” I completed his sentence, and he looked at me.

“Yes.” He nodded. “And… try to be honest. About your feelings, with the people you love and who love you.”

I had to look away; it felt to me there was a question that needed to be asked here - are you one of those people? - but I couldn't ask it. So I looked away, leaning back to rest my back against the wall.

“Yesterday was supposed to be our first date.”

He gulped, and looked at me intensely for two brief yet long seconds, before looking away.

“Maybe in an alternate reality we would be going on our second one right about now.” He added.

From his tone, it was clear he hadn’t meant for this kind of distraction. But I couldn’t help it, I was desperate to talk about it; that alternate reality we almost had.

“I would have chosen the passion fruit sauce salmon.”

He smiled. “I would… I would have thoroughly researched the wine list to chose something fancy and make you think I’m sophisticated.”

I laughed again, softly, feeling my cheeks blush.

“And then would have ruined it by ordering something dumb like… like the French onion soup that would make you not want to kiss me later.”

His words hang in the air like perfume as our smiles faded. My eyes were on his, but he refused to look at me.

“I would have kissed you.” I whispered, and now he looked at me.

I knew I had nothing he wanted anymore. Or, better yet, I knew I had a lot he didn’t want now. I knew it should be enough to stop this conversation and make us both focus on our now very different realities, but it wasn’t. Because our reality at that moment was one: we were there, sitting in the stone, narrow steps of a staircase, facing each other, thinking of what we could have had which, only a week before, was all we had ever wanted. That was the only reality that existed in that very fleeting moment, and it was such a comforting one, such a peaceful one, that I wanted to stay in it. To drown in it. To forget any other existed. So I let that novel hope take over my heart, and leaned forward to press my lips to his.

“Marie--” his hand cupped my cheeks as he leaned back.

“I’m so tired of feeling pain.” I confessed, whispery, kissing his neck when he looked away. “I just… I just need to feel something else.”

I kissed his neck softly, running my hand up his leg as I did, moving up to his ear; his grasp became tighter, now in my hair. His breath came out heavy; his familiar smell taking over my every sense, “Help me.” Looking into his eyes, I brushed my nose against his. “Help me feel something good.”

But just before I could kiss him, his hands were in my arms again, this time pushing me ever so slightly away.

“Marie…” He said, looking away, his breath tantalizing as it his my lips. His hand resting above mine, pulled it away from his leg. “I just… I don’t…”

I looked away, now more ashamed than before, and gulped. “Of course. I understand.”

I grabbed my shoes and hat, and got to my feet.

“Marie, please, let me--”

“I get it!” I shouted, flinching at my own volume. “Sorry. I get it, it’s okay.” I said, calmer. “Of course it’s okay. Really.”

I climbed the final steps up, trying to will the floor into opening up and swallowing me whole.

I opened the first door out of the stairs space and walked out into a semi-chamber with cement walls and a set of wooden doors. I marched towards the one in the general direction of my room.

“Marie!” Harry called, following me in hurried steps. He held onto my elbow, pulling me back. “Please, Marie, just--”

“Stop calling me that!” I pulled my arm from him, feeling the familiar threatening knot on my throat as my eyes watered.

“...Marie?” He asked, confused. “It’s your name.”

“Yes!” I nodded, looking to the floor as I felt my cheeks wet again. “...but you never used it before.” I confessed, softly.

I cleaned my tears to avoid his eyes.

“Ma--” he stopped himself, so I never found out which version of my name he was going to use.

“I get it.” I told him, calm. Then, drying another tear, I tried to smile. “I know it doesn’t look like it, because of the crying, but I do, I promise.” I nodded, emphatically.

He looked at me, eyelids fluttering, eyes sad, hands fidgety.

I shrugged, still trying to smile. “I get it. Last week you flirted with a girl who was free to flirt back. I’m not free anymore.”

Turning around, I opened the door and walked out as fast as I could.

By the time I walked into the shared sitting room in our apartment, I had already cried again and dried my cheeks as well as I could. The dogs were walking around, playing together. In one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone, was Christopher, as if I had traveled in time back to when I came home to him everyday after work.

He looked up at me, and smiled. “Hey, baby.”

I walked over to him, dropping my shoes and fascinator to the floor. He put his phone away, brows creasing as he inspected my features.

When I got to him, his hands cupped my cheeks softly, as they’d done so many times in the past. “You’ve been crying?” He asked, concerned, before delicately kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, bunny. It’s gonna be okay.”

Reaching up, I pulled his hands from my face, and laced our fingers together. I made my way to my room, pulling him after me.

Then I closed the door, hoping to leave the pain outside.

--- ---- ---

Outfits

[A/N: Sorry about the delay! I’m home and so grateful to you for reading!!!! Let me know your thoughts????? THANKS]

#Princeharryff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryfanfiction #Princeharryfanfic #prince harry #brf #modern royalty au #modern royalty fanfic #fanfiction #OPITCphff #chapters

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ericsonclan · 4 years

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Nighttime Violets

Summary: Louis visits Violet before they both head to bed and they talk about the past, what to remember, and how to move on.

Read on A03:

Violet was about to head to bed when she heard a familiar rat-a-tat-tat at her door. Louis’ special knock. Somewhat reluctantly, Violet shuffled to the door and cracked it open. Louis grinned at her with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the late-night house call. I brought a peace offering to make up for the timing,” He raised a wrinkled bag that Violet was sure contained the decade-old pretzels he still insisted were a special treat.

Violet rolled her eyes, but opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in,”

“Thanks!” Louis strode into the room and promptly plopped himself on top of her desk. Looking around the room, he took in the familiar decorations that Violet had kept up for years: her button making machine and the few buttons she kept in her personal collection, the faded glow-in-the-dark stars that they had moved from her ceiling to her bedside wall after the accident, her worn-out vest tossed carelessly across the chair. He absentmindedly kicked his legs back and forth, whistling to himself. Violet stood across from him, arms crossed, waiting for him to speak. Louis noticed her stance and stopped mid-note. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m visiting tonight,”

“Duh,”

“Well, now that our newest member has been with us for a few months, I wanted to see how you were feeling,”

Of fucking course.

“Get out,”

“Whaaat?”

“I said out,” Violet walked over to her dresser where her hunting knife lay.

“OK! OK!” Louis exclaimed, raising his hands in surrender. “God, I wasn’t thinking you’d react this harshly! And after I intentionally came in the dead of night so no one would hear us gossiping!” Though the sight of Violet’s knife was certainly pressing, he suddenly found himself looking beyond it to something else that lay on the dresser. “Wait a second. Is that… a violet?”

“What? No! Get out!” Violet shouted, advancing threateningly with the knife.

“Oh my god, it is, isn’t it?” Louis leapt off the desk onto the extra bunk bed, wriggling across the mattress to get a better look at the flower. “Potted and everything!” He turned to wiggle his eyebrows at Violet. “I bet I would only need one guess as to who gave you this,”

“Be quiet!” Violet hissed, shooting a worried glance toward the door.

“Does the name of the gift giver perhaps start with a P?”

“You know it does,” Violet sullenly took a seat on her bed.

“How long ago did this happen?”

“A few days. She went to practice fishing with Clementine and when they came back she gave it to me. Said she found it near the stream,”

“It’s potted,”

Violet shrugged noncommittally. “Guess she found it by the greenhouse,”

“Holy shit, Violet. Do you know what this means?”

“Don’t be weird about this,”

“She’s totally into you! I was right all along!” Louis leapt up from the bed, doing a little happy dance. “I can’t believe this! This is way better than I hoped to find!”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will end you,”

“Well, Clementine must know already, right? Considering that Prisha was with her when she got the flower,”

“Louis,”

“Ok, fine! I won’t talk about it with anyone, not even Clementine!” Louis looked over at the potted flower again, putting a hand up to his mouth to cover his smile. “I just can’t believe this is actually happening. Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?”

“Violet – c’mon! It doesn’t take a genius to notice the way you look at her. And she brought you a flower, your namesake flower! You can’t say that’s not a sign that she feels the same way,”

“I can say whatever I fucking want,” Violet pulled her blanket from where it had lain bunched up along the side of her bed. She smoothed the blanket out across the mattress, a clear signal that she was going to bed.

“Are you waiting for her to make the first move?”

“I’m not waiting for anything!”

“’Cause I know you get shy when it comes to stuff like this. Like that time when Minnie-”

Violet slammed her hands down on the bedframe, causing a huge clang. Louis flinched. “Don’t,”

“I’m sorry. I just got caught up in the excitement and it slipped out.”

“… I know,”

The room was silent as Louis looked for the right words to say next. There weren’t any. Looking at her bedroom walls, he saw some of Tenn’s old drawings lining the walls, ones he had given to Violet over the years. A crayon drawing of Violet made several years ago smiled at him from the top of the wall. Various depictions of wildlife and the nature around Ericson could be found amongst the colored pages.

There were some pieces missing though, ones that Louis remembered being displayed proudly just a few years ago. Pictures of Minnie and Sophie. Group drawings with Violet in the middle. Memories of the times before the twins had been lost. Before Minnie had been found again, only to turn her weapon against them and try to kill them herself.

Louis looked over at Violet. She had her arms wrapped around herself, knees pulled tight against her chest. Her face lay against them, turned away from him. He prayed he hadn’t made her cry.

“Violet?”

He heard nothing in response.

“Promise you won’t kill me if I say what’s on my mind?”

More silence.

He would have to take that as a yes. Taking a deep breath, Louis decided to go for it. “Prisha’s not Minnie. What happened on the boat and on the bridge, it won’t happen again,”

She didn’t move. Louis wasn’t sure what to do. Then a soft, shaky sniffle emerged from Violet’s still form. Louis immediately took a seat beside her on the bed, taking her in his arms and making soft shushing sounds.

“Shit, Vi, I’m sorry. I went too far. Shh, shh, it’s gonna be okay. I won’t say anything else, I swear,”

“Fuck you, Louis,” Violet mumbled against his chest, taking a long, snotty inhale. “I was doing alright today,”

“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you,”

Violet pushed herself up to lean against the back wall, rubbing tears out of her permanently bleary eyes. She couldn’t see shit when she was crying.

Louis was still holding onto her hand, gently running his thumb against her palm in apology. He just said sorry for pushing her, but he wasn’t going to leave till she opened up, was he? Asshole.

“What happened that night on the boat changed everything,”

Louis was surprisingly silent. He must be waiting for more.

“It changed what I thought I’d lost. Then I lost it all again. But it was worse than before. I didn’t used to think that was possible. After that, after losing Tenn…. For a while I didn’t think I could come back. Like what was the point anymore in living in this shithole world with these useless eyes and everybody gone-”

She could feel Louis’ grip tighten on her hand.

“… But not everybody was gone. You were still here. And Clem. And Ruby. And AJ and…. You guys didn’t give up on me, even when I had nothing to give. It took so, so long to just feel anything at all again. To care at all. To still try. But I got there. When Prisha came…” Violet’s spare hand tangled in her blanket, clasping and unclasping it. “It felt different again. Not bad, but… I can’t deal with it. Whatever this is, I don’t want it,”

“Do you really mean that?” Louis whispered. “It’s OK to be scared. Hell, I’m sure Prisha knows plenty about that too. She wouldn’t hold it against you if you were nervous,”

Violet shook her head. “Don’t do this. Don’t act like you know what this is or what she’s thinking. It can’t be true,”

“What can’t be true? That she likes you?”

“Louis, have you seen me lately?” Violet turned to look him dead-on. Even this close, she could barely make out the freckles that covered her friend’s face. “Don’t act like this looks good,”

“Violet-”

“No. Don’t brush this off like it’s not a big fucking deal,”

Louis sighed. He let go of her hand and leaned back to take a place against the wall. “You know, after Clem lost her leg, I would catch her flinch sometimes when I touched her. Not super obviously, and not all the time. She had her good and her bad days, just like you. When I eventually got the nerve up to ask her about it, she just looked down at where her leg used to be. Then she started crying.”

Louis shook his head, eyes downcast. “I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t see how she thought that it was a big deal – not from a survival standpoint of course – but for me. I told her again and again that I didn’t care at all, that she was still the badass who I’d fallen for the second she walked into my life.

But it wasn’t enough for Clem. That conversation didn’t change things. It took me a while to realize that it wasn’t really about what I thought or how I saw her – it was how she saw herself. To me, she was just as beautiful as ever, but for Clementine… I think it took her a long time to learn to see herself again, her real self,”

Louis turned to look at Violet. “Now, I’m not saying that what I think I see between you and Prisha is the real deal, but whether it is or not, I don’t think your eyes would be a deal-breaker for her. Just like her busted arm doesn’t matter much to you. Even if there aren’t romantic feelings there, I’m sure she sees the same thing I do when she looks at you,”

He reached out to cup Violet’s face with one hand. “A total badass who’s a complete softie underneath,”

Violet’s lip trembled. Damnit, she was not going to start crying again. Seeing her expression, Louis chuckled and pulled her against him so that her face was once more hidden from him.

“All in all, I would say this has been a quite productive evening,” She could feel him shift on the bed. “Clementine and A.J. are already asleep, so if you like I could definitely spend the night. It’s been ages since you and I have had a proper slumber party,”

Violet mumbled something, but it was lost in the folds of his trenchcoat.

“What was that?”

“I said you have to sleep on the opposite bunk,”

“Oh, but of course! How about we play a game? I bet I can catch more pretzels in my mouth from across the room than you can!”

Violet straightened up, rubbing her eyes dry one last time. “Alright, you’re on,”

“Loser takes pelt tanning duty?”

“Yeah, right. I know it’s already your shift tomorrow,”

“Dang it! Can’t blame a guy for trying. Ok, I’ll start first. Get ready for some expert marksmanship!” Louis pulled away to take his seat on the opposite bunk.

As Violet adjusted to her place on the bed, her eyes caught the potted violet. Gingerly, she picked it up and placed it further from the edge of the dresser and the pretzel warfare that was about to ensue. Something within her felt calmer. Within that calm, perhaps she could finally admit to herself the twinge of excitement that came with Prisha’s gift.

A pretzel hit the side of her face, and she turned to Louis with a frown. “A little warning next time!”

“That was just a warmup!”

Violet rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. Wherever things went, she could be happy with how things were now. She could take a second to live in the moment.

#twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg privet #twdg louis #louis and violet #twdg #telltale the walking dead #twdgs4 #fanfic

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schoe1995 · 4 years

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My Travel Accessories

When it comes to traveling; I don’t play any games to be comfortable. So I decided to share my must have accessories when I’m traveling:

CASES

I’m one of the few people in the world that really doesn’t drop my phone. However, accidents can happen and when you don’t have equipment protection...you are playing a huge gamble. To protect from physical damage, I got the full package: screen protector, case, and equipment protection. My iPhone 11 Pro 256gb is well over $1000...soooo yeah. However if you don’t have equipment protection here are some cases you can get.

I technically have five cases but one wasn’t categorized here for a reason. But let me give you a breakdown:

Upper left corner is my Lifeproof Frē. Turns the phone into complete waterproof, dust proof, snow proof, dirt proof, etc. it’s super handy when I take underwater photos, go on water rides, or accidentally forget to take it out of my pocket. The case is sealed air tight, so if you need to take it off, use like a quarter and pop from the side

Gear 4 case upper right: this is my everyday case. I usually have it for like at home, errands, getting on the plane, etc. The case is super easy to take off.

Bottom left is my LuMee case: everybody needs good lighting and LuMee’s case does that on point. The duo case has lighting on the front and back and you can control how bright the light is.

Bottom right is my Shift cam case: perfect for high quality photos and trying out different lenses. I have this case when I go to concerts.

Headphones

When traveling sometimes you really don’t need all that extra background noise. And since I’m a huge music addict, I’d rather hear my playlist...not some child screaming or an adult who doesn’t know how to shut up. Enter headphones.

I got a few selections so I’ll break it down once again.

Powerbeats 3: super lightweight and compatible. They have I believe a 12 hour battery off one charge. There are probably my go-to just because of size, I really can’t lose them, and again how easy it is to travel with them.

The blue Samsung Level: lol so I got these after I saw them in one of Kpop’s group EXO’s music video Call Me Baby. Btw it’s a bop🤣 they are Bluetooth/ wireless and lasted me a couple of days. Then again I wasn’t really using them a whole lot. But they are really high quality, voice activation, slide up, down, left, right to control volume, skip songs, or repeat, and best part...NOISE CANCELLATION! When I took the train to Chicago and flipped the switch, my world was changed.

AirPods: I was one of those people who really didn’t feel like this was one purchase I needed. But you know that phrase, “don’t knock it till you try it?” Yeah...that was me with AirPods. If you are an iPhone user I recommend getting them. They are lightweight, alternate compatible (meaning you can use left, right, or both), and Siri is actually more useful. All I say is “Hey Siri” and boom. She takes care of it.

Regular cord: these are my everyday headphones. And the most expendable. I try not to lose any items...but things happen. If I lose them, these can be easily replaced. But I carry these around so my other expensive ones are my backup.

Portable Battery Packs

If you are like me, I’m always on my phone. Either checking on my social media, playing games, watching videos, blasting music, calling, texting, etc. your phone can get drained a lot. I was at a concert once in St. Louis when my phone almost went dead. Good thing my Dad and I had spot to meet afterwards. From that point on I decided to always carry around a portable charger. And let’s be real, nobody wants to be in a situation where you need help but your phone is dead.

I have like 5 portable chargers. But these are my go to travel ones I take with me. You can say extra, but hey; better to be prepared than sorry.

Starting from the left: I found this neat solar powered portable battery pack on amazon. The directions say if you want it fully charged; plug it into an outlet. This was super helpful when I was in Disneyland because of the sun. I just attached it using the clip to my bag.

Middle: this is your standard portable battery park. I got this when I saw Instagram model/ actor Matthew Noszka post about this charger. It’s super slick and fashionable. But with a charge of 10,000mH it’s super fast and helpful. Oh! Always look for portable batteries that are 10,000 and higher. The higher the charge, faster and longer lasting it will be. If your going to be out of your hotel all day with no time to sit and plug in your phone, get you a portable pack.

On the right: This is Apple’s smart battery case. This is probably my favorite one out of all three. When you put your iPhone in the case it starts charging. Once the case fully uses all the battery, your phone battery kicks in. What’s neat is that if you have the case on and need to charge your phone, the case also charges. I had to charge up the case twice while I was at Disneyland. But worth the investment.

Bags & Backpacks

When I was younger; talking about like elementary school to middle school my mom always told me carry around a bag. Whenever she went to Six Flags she always had a bag full of snacks, drinks, and if I got soaked on a water ride extra clothes. Now that I’m older and doing a lot of solo traveling I’ve been carrying around a backpack a lot. Especially if I’m going to concerts.

I always have two bags with me now.

See through bag: when I travel, it’s 95% of the time for concerts and amusement parks. I do occasionally do sight seeing stuff as well. However security can be a hassle if they have to check your stuff. So I have a see through pvc type bag that security can easily see all the items I’m bringing into the park or venue. Plus it’s a lot easier for both parties.

Boujee Bag: I always think it’s important to have what I call my Boujee Bag, aka Travel Bag. This is where I have like my iPad, MacBook, chargers, important documents like passport, tickets, etc. I love my Coach Backpack. It has so many different compartment that it makes traveling with tons of times a lot easier.

Water Bottle: Traveling without having a good water bottle is a receipe for disaster. I spent so much money on overpriced water at like sight seeing attractions and grab and go places🤦‍♂️ so to help cut down costs, I have this nice Lokai water bottle. It keeps cold drinks cold for 24 hours and hot drinks hot for 12. But you can always find cheaper water bottles at Walmart.

Wallets!

Like cases I have a variety of wallets that I travel with. I hardly carry around cash so this is where like my ID, cards, everything is in.

On top is my everyday Fossil Wallet that I take everywhere. Including traveling as well. I love how it’s RFID protected. While I was working at Fossil, I learned from my assistant manager that criminals are adapting on how they steal credit card information. They can walk past you and use their phone to scan card information. If a wallet that has RFID protection, it blocks the scan. With safety in mind, that is a wallet I recommend. Don’t worry ladies, Fossil also has a beautiful line of collections as well.

Bottom: That is my Coach Men’s Long Zip Wallet. I got it on sale the day o purchased my backpack. I switch into this wallet when I go out to restaurants, bars, and clubs. It has a wristlet so I can hold onto and keep check. I can hold multiple cards in as well, and my phone in there. Sometimes it’s best to keep track when everything is in one place.

That pretty much is all my travel accessories. Remember not everyone is the same, so customize on what your travel neccessities are. I always recommend before any trip, plan on bringing what you need vs the wants. Once you figure that out, it makes life so much easier.

#solo traveller #solo travel #solo trip #travel #travel blog #travel accessories #accessories #cases #iphone

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fortheheavenssake · 5 years

Text

PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 16

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

101: Oct 29

MM ANON ……🎼” I think I’m turning Japanese “🎼…… japmeg?……… Mike&Harry cheer a win. …… “ Mike gets on with everyone old thing”……… “ bloody whingeing” …“ the balcony’s a problem Philip” …… “The sooner the better”……… “ Harry, we have a problem”!!…… “ A distraction would be useful”…… “ Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness”…… no Wig-gle

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU DEAR MM ANOM🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

I just had my flushot guys, l had them do it in my left arm so my right one would be hopefully good. It’s so awesome that our Public Health Nurses come and do them in the home for individuals like me! I am truly great full.

October 29/2019 1400 hrs CST

🎼” I think I’m turning Japanese “🎼 japmeg?

The Vapors song, Turning Japanese, the song lyrics are all about a couple, one has gone away and the other is obsessed with their photo to the photo they wish a doctor to take a picture of their loved one from the inside so they can see inside them as well. This reminds me of all the research done on Prince Harry to manipulate him. The chorus turning Japanese, to me , makes no sense. However, when asked, here is their explanation, that it is a love song about someone who lost their girlfriend and was going slowly crazy. Lead singer Dave Fenton said: “Turning Japanese is all the clichés about angst and youth and turning into something you didn’t expect to.“From VH-1 Special l know neither madam nor Harry love each other. This is a dysfunctional song about a dysfunctional relationship and the World Rugby Cup taking place in Japan. We Know Harry is going, oh my, is madam going to try and crash this???😘😫😫😫😫😩😩😩

Japmeg?

In addition to my other cheeky comments on this name there are a lot of references to this online. Near as l can figure out its some kind of music and or musician but definitely NOT madam! Is she going to just show up, gate crasher or demand to go to Japan with Harry?

Mike&Harry cheer a win. “ Mike gets on with everyone old thing”

We know Mike and Zara Tindall are already in Japan , Harry s cousin and her husband. Mike used to play rugby, perhaps you noticed the shape of his nose? It’s either a hockey 🏒 nose or a rugby 🏉 nose 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. They are going, l assume , to enjoy the finals game with Harry, as Harry is also headed off to 🇯🇵 Japan for it! Should be awesome for them. As long as japmeg robot does not gate crasher, to use her favourite word!! Mike Tindall is so congenial, in case madam does show up, he will distract her and talk over her. If nothing else, his size, if he is sat between them 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂☺️🤣.

“ bloody whingeing”

Non-stop requests, demands, shows put on, complaining how tough her life is. The unmitigated gall, to film a poor me, nobody asks how l am, when hours, days , places she has just visited been many rapes and murders, people struggle to eel out growth and an existence. If you believe NOTHING OF THE PLOT , surely upon seeing this, you must say, how insular and narcissistic is she. If you do not, then l have pity for you and call you sugar.

“ the balcony’s a problem Philip”

If perchance, madam stays in the UK and attends Remembrance Services,there is a balcony appearance, HMTQ, is talking with PP on how best deal with this. I think her being so shut out at TTC she wouldn’t want near that balcony ever again, but this is a woman with no shame out to revenge and spoil every event!

“The sooner the better”

Awaiting details on Brexit and having those issues put to bed cannot come fast enough, the sooner the better! Once the country is secure, l truly believe HMTQ as she has always done, has put the people’s needs first. Then she will be freed up to press the buzzer on madam!

“ Harry, we have a problem”!!

I wonder if this is LG or someone else telling him that madam has made a scene and is insisting upon going to Japan with him. I can only imagine how furious Harry would be! Good thing Zara and Mike will be there. No solo trip , time away, she again forces herself into something he enjoys and does everything in her power to ruin everything for him.

“ A distraction would be useful”

Who needs a distraction, HARRY DOES, FROM MADAM!! Reading the previous clues, it’s sounding like she is headed for Japan as well, l hope l am completely 100% wrong on this riddle! But Harry does need a distraction, sounds like plans for a Japan to be it have soiled, but hopefully they can get something planned for him! Without her finding out!!!!

“ Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness”

How well l know this phrase, permit me, the entire is so beautiful ,

Wear out Thy youth with shapeless idleness,But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein, Even as I would when I to love begin. … Upon some book I love I’ll pray for thee. This is from the Bards , (Shakespeare) The Two Gentlemen of Verona, a much rarer choice MM ANON 👏. We wear out the health, time , love, when we are young, so much time wasted. I am melancholy with the years of lives madam has wasted, for our royal family, and everyone she has encountered, especially our Harry. But one can only thrive in true genuine love, not in lust, manipulated marriage, there has been no thriving for Harry, his family, none of us who care at all.

no Wig-gle

Madam always sports a wig, they vary in colour, shape, size, style and length. The mother of all wigs, meaning a whopper of one, she wore to the OYW opening, in the purple feauxmegnancy maternity dress. That wig was as though she was hiding inside it and l think she meant to, not knowing what her reception would be. I think we have YET to her her without her wearing a wig, or walking without her sassy wiggle, although sometimes she greatly exaggerates it.

My first thought when l read this was The Wiggles, hugely popular with the very young set, like Prince Louis’ age, costumes, music etc etc all very colourful and fun! They have been around forever, they have changed members, etc but air on. Tv channels and tour for live appearances. I don’t know if this is any of what you meant MM ANON but it took me back for some nice memories

Another possible is no wiggle room, meaning something is so tight , needs to be done perfectly at the perfect time to succeed. This is true, why l believe HMTQ has put the brakes on dealing fully with madam.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

October 29/2019 1500 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG…..yes, Mike was a rugby player….he had his nose repaired…he is looking good…it’s going to be interesting…when is the article coming about her going to Japan? 3-2-1….much appreciated PG!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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102: Oct 30

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON #102 🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON … 🎼”Saturday,Saturday,”🎼……” At the going down of the sun”……… ( Charity’s play shorts/long)…… SS Hedge it. ……… inside, deal or no deal…… 🎼”it’s quarter to three”🎼……… “EXISTING!! ‘boy is she f****living”…… “ “strip away the tears ‘and you have a heart of granite,ma’am”……… “ ones listening Mr Bond”…… “ Listen dip$h!t PR is everything!! EVERYTHING!!…… silent movie.

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

This is riddle interpretation number 102 for me, l celebrated the 100th riddle interpretation onOctober 28/2019 !

October 30/2019 1250 hrs CST

🎼”Saturday,Saturday,”🎼

This takes me away back! Saturday nights all right for fighting by Sir Elton John. I recently read he had to cancel some appearances, l do hope he recovers. This song is about, as young adults, the ultimate night of the week! Going out, drinking, dancing, fights of all sorts exacerbated by alcohol and other substances. The Rugby World Cup is this Saturday in Japan, check your time zone for match time! England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 is matched South Africa 🇿🇦. Zara and Mike Tindall, HES a rugby veteran, Peter Phillips, her brother and Prince Harry are all due to attend! Great fun! In yesterday’s riddle there were hints, l hate to say this but l fear this clue is telling us of not the drunken weekend game type of fistfight, but her gate crashing and forcing herself into the mix, totally again destroying anything Harry finds join in. I pray l am wrong!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

At the going down of the sun”

This is a line from the classic work , “For The Fallen” by Laurence Binyon. This is so often read during and around Remembrance Day, in the U.K. and the various services. It is on Remembrance Sunday, November 10/2019 🇬🇧 There is of course “In Flanders Field” also by John McRae, here in Canada . We are all called to remember the fallen and the veterans and their loved ones, Remembrance Day in Canada 🇨🇦 on November 11/2019.

We all signify our remembering by wearing the poppy put out by the legion. My father, who had trained for the medical corps during WWII saiid, the poppies often are lost, they slip off the coat easily, you look down and oh, my poppies gone. He used to say, that’s in remembering how quickly soldiers lost their mates , they were together fighting and in a moment they look and their fellow soldier was dead or mortally wounded. I implore each of you to take time out in Remembrance of what was given for all of our freedoms we take so incredibly for granted.

( Charity’s play shorts/long)

At this time of year, very common in Scotland and l am certain the U.K. as a whole, are pantos. Pantomime stage programs

This link is extremely helpful. https://www.tripsavvy.com/what-is-pantomime-or-panto-1661664

I remember one of the times l was in Scotland, there were signs everywhere for ceilidhs and pantos. I have had the pleasure of being at several of each. Ceilidhs , for those who don’t know is pronounced Kay-Lee, is wonderful dances with live authentic music, the Canadian Reel and many other group dances are soooo funny. At Balmoral they have the Ghilly’s ball. So much fun, of course l was NOT at that ceilidh😫😫😩😩. I do know, the pantos did raise money for charity.

Alas l truly believe MM ANON is referring more to the games the Sussex Foundation aka ‘charity’ is allegedly playing. Foundations as with any company, or person even has short term plans and long term plans. The short term of the foundation is to set it up, set a board of directors and be allegedly proper. The long term game, is ,only, money, money,money allegedly etc etc etc! This is where the financial law enforcements and forensic accountants can come in, if anything untoward occurs. They can check and any good forensic accountant worth their salt, can tell quite quickly that something is very off!

SS Hedge it.

Hedge can be funds to invest in, if you’re lucky, you can make scads of money. This is madams PR firm, Sunshine Sachs, such an oxymoron, I see the ☀️, beautiful, and PR in this case is NOT!

You can hedge your bets, it means you try something and there is more likely to be successful than not. So they are using PR because more likely than not it’s going to be effective!

inside, deal or no deal

Madam was a suitcase girl on the American, hosted by Canadian Howie Mendel, game show. I don’t know what her suitcase number was or if they switched them around. I do know, the ladies were dressed so slutty! Inside deal, like insider trading means you have access or come upon information that should have been kept confidential, and you use it to your favour. I am sure madam learned some pillow talk initially on the booty call. However, this makes me think, someone has sold her out and made a deal with LG or whichever part of his team is applicable.

There is an interview of a woman who arranged for the girls to be a golf caddy for charity. They were asking her about madam, she was talking very fast but she DEFINITELY said madam was a mother!

🎼”it’s quarter to three”🎼

This is Ol Blue Eyes, Mr Frank Sinatra, One For My Baby and One More For The Road. A fellow drinking his sorrows, past ladt call, the bar is empty but he’s still drinking telling his woe to the bartender. He has found himself a wordsmith, telling his tale and wanting the night not to but eventually will come to a close. This is a massive metaphor for a chapter in life closing and a new chapter, or perhaps even a new 📚, Opening!!! I hope and pray, Harry has sought comfort with his family, drinks with his mates, drinking to the end of this chapel of horrors and welcoming the new!! 🍻 Cheers Harry, all the best for 2020 untethered by this evil🙏🏻🙏🏻.

“EXISTING!! ‘boy is she f****living”

Oh yes, back to the poor me ITV video, waxing non-poetic🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂 done by madam. She has received sympathy from the most bizarre places. The letter from Female MP’S of Parliament yesterday on the surface was shocking! LG you are f*******brilliant!! You’re so many steps ahead of her and she still thinks she in the win. ESPECIALLY, yesterday, after that unsigned, list of names was sent to Clarence House😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣, she was a cock on a walk preening her feathers, l have NO DOUBT! To have the gall to compare her life to exist and poor me, whilst standing on African soil, boggles the mind! Again,l say to those who don’t believe in a plot, just think, if HMTQ had done that? Imagine ANY OTHER SENIOR ROYAL!!!

She’s lining high on the hog, as farmers say, not lost for hobbies, fashion etc etc.

“strip away the tears ‘and you have a heart of granite,ma’am”

LG describing, what HMTQ already know, but just commenting on the heart of stone madam has. To have a heart of stone, means it’s cold, unfeeling, doesn’t work right as in the emotional function of the heart. She is the most well back narcissist, this is very very serious and has been for quite some time! She has cold eyes, cold heart, she is evil manifest.

“ ones listening Mr Bond”

Angela Kelly, HMTQ dresser and shoe worker inner😂😂🤣, has written a book, out today, l want it! She obviously has the approval of HMTQ and the book contains lovely information , is being serialized in the UK Hello, l hope the Canadian Hello has some! I LOVED LOVED LOVED, HMTQ appearance in the 2012 Olympic video with Daniel Craig as 007. This story is told in the book. I so wish l had it right now! HMTQ ROCKS!!!

I wonder if she, knowing has a cheeky sense of humour, has greeted LG in this fashion!! I would LOVE to be a fly on the wall! Not for secret information, but watching their interactions!

everything!! EVERYTHING!! PR is everything!! EVERYTHING!!

Madam is speaking to one of her many PR people. No proper manners, respectful treatment, nothing NOTHING matters to EXCEPT ATTENTION AND DESTROYING HARRY AND HIS FAMILY! Her backers intention is to breakdown HMTQ and the Monarchy! So PR PR PR LIES LIES LIES LIES 🤥 🤥 🤥!! There used to be an old saying, any press is good press as long as they spell your name right! The inherent narcissist that she is sweetly plays with the 3vil agenda because SHE WILL NOT 🛑 ✋ STOP! SHE WILL NEVER STOP WITH THE LIES! My favourite today, was Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, given her supportive words to get through these hard press lies and attacks, that NEVER HAPPENED! BP made it clear, all issues with family are private! The press has only been telling a small part of the truth, they have lots more but have been holding back, l haven’t heard of any formal embargo. She and her team have been the ones constantly printing lies lies lies! Remember, if her name is first, ITS HER PR! If it’s about family private issues, ITS HER PR!

silent movie.

Sex video, no audio, many of them. Case closed! We know they exist, l have never and would never watch the filth l have been told exists in her past deeds. No kooky piano playing in the movie theatre as the classic silent films of days gone by.

October 30/2019 1410 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG! I love seeing your personality shining through…adds so much! Much appreciated…..102! 😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

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103: Oct 31

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻👻👻🎃PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🎃👻👻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON ……… RS Halloween ……… a balcony too far…… 🎼72 green bottles walking through the Halls”🎼…… lobbing a constitutional embarrassment …… “What!!! colonial racism , bloody stupid tart”………… “ it’s the popular consensus Ma’am”…… “ and I thought Di was a manipulator “…… “Where IS she living Philip”?……” I’m coming, and that’s that!!”…… “ O $h!t, Harry’s just txt me”…… 👻👹🦄🦎👶🧣🧣🤫

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MY DEAR MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

👻 🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃👻

October 31/2019 1415 hrs CST RIDDLE NUMBER 103

RS Halloween

Is this Runescape Halloween?? Online gaming?? l know zillions play online games. Is there a contest between some of the adult royals? I think that would be so fun! Is there a Royal Society of Halloween 🎃?🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣👻👻👻🎃🎃🎃 l am going to stick with William and Catherine madly having fun gaming when the wee ones are in bed. Fun times, great distraction from all the stress!!!

a balcony too far

The issue of the royal balcony, historically, they have been fabulous and everyone took their place as their royal status dictated. There was never ever a jostle for power in something so visual in my recollection. TTC balcony was so incredibly obvious that HMTQ had her back, front, side, all around her she was guarded from any contact with madam. Harry put her in her place by twice telling her to turn around as she tried to yammer at him whilst God Save The Queen, was being played. I still am furious how she slapped Harry’s leg in the carriage. So now we have upcoming Remembrance Sunday and other services, will she attend? Spoil things? Try to spoil things? Dress incredibly inappropriately? If she does indeed attend, will she be on the balcony? I read last night that the Royal family have united and will let her stand alone on the balcony like some autocratic leader soaking up attention from the crowd. Now that would never happen, HMTQ is far too reverent for that. There will be a real show if madam attends and is on the balcony. I await and see what the coming days will bring. I soooooo want to wake up one day, open my iPad to headlines filled with justice and details of filth let loose by all the media!!

🎼72 green bottles walking through the Halls”🎼

Is this the equivalent of 99 bottles of beer on the wall, and you sing it 98 more times until you get to the last bottle. My mum did not like the alcohol reference, we sang coke or Pepsi, love my mum, miss her madly💜💜💜💜😢💜💜💜💜. Sounds like madam is up to her hobbies big time. Rumours rampant, though nothing official from BP, that the split has already happened between madam and “H”🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, titles stripped and cash flow tap turned off. Believe what you will. Time will tell. I await a brief from BP.

lobbing a constitutional embarrassment

Lobbing, let’s review the meaning wiki , 1 : to let hang heavily : droop. 2 : to throw, hit, or propel easily or in a high arc. 3 : to direct (something such as a question or comment) so as to elicit a response. I think the last definition applies. The letter from 72 female members of Parliament sent a letter of solidarity to madam, sent to Clarence House, even though the Sussexes offices are at BP. The letter states “ Stories and headlines had sometimes “sought to cast aspersions about your character, without any good reason as far AS WE CAN SEE” the letter added “Even more concerning still, we are calling out what can only be described. as outdated, colonial undertones to some of these stories,“ the MPs continued, adding that this could not “be allowed to go unchallenged.”

Why? Names listed, no signatures, not even their electronic signatures. At whose behest was this done? LG brilliantly moving the chess pieces, always a few steps ahead of madam et al, et al means and others. I just realized l use et al, a lot and never explained to those who may not know the Latin. Or is this yet another attack on HMTQ and the a Monarchy? So many questions, everyone furious and stressed to the maximum, between Brexit, politics in the U.K. and the massively hated madams behaviour!

“What!!! colonial racism , bloody stupid tart”

Prince Philip is NOT amused by Holly Lynch, Labour Party MP taking the p*** out of HMTQ by sending that letter to Clarence House. It seems the is the head or charge of it as madam chose allegedly, to ring her from BP to thank her for all the support! Again l am taken back to when Sally Field won the Academy Award, onstage accepting her award, childlike crying voice”THEY LOVE ME, THEY REALLY LOVE ME” flipping narcissist that madam is. Pathetic and hilarious 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣😂😂. She thinks she has one up on the Crown 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“ it’s the popular consensus Ma’am”

EVERYONE HATES MADAM!!! The polite British demeanour has not been pushed to the point of throwing rotten eggs 🥚 or tomatoes 🍅 YET! LG is telling HMTQ, the public general consensus or wishes are for madam to go! Titles stripped, money cut off and sent home!!! Justice will take its part in the future.

“ and I thought Di was a manipulator ““Where IS she living Philip”?

HMTQ and PP chatting, l picture them in lovely relaxed evening clothes, fire roaring, 🔥cocktails 🍸 ,📺 tv on and chatting. PP commenting his opinion about Diana, the People’s Princess . Then HMTQ is voicing what we ALL WANT TO KNOW!!!! Where has that hideous woman, who by the way comes with her own Halloween costumes daily with her sartorial(fashion) 👻 🎃 choices and the many, many faces she makes, pushing up her fake teeth 🦷 ,many many different wigs she wears, and occasionally as st OYW evening event, the wig wore her,😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣, clothing that never fit right and cost a fortune. Where does she live?? We KNOW FROGMORE COTTAGE has never be lived in by her or Harry. I would, as l have said several times, l would love to be a fly on the wall to their conversations! God bless you both🙏🏻.

” I’m coming, and that’s that!!”

Well la de frickin dah Rachel. She’s emboldened by the support from the whole British Parliament, in her narcissistic mind and she is coming to the Remembrance Services and I AM A ROYAL BUT I AM YOUR SISTER TOO🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮, demanding her place on the balcony as her public awaits, handkerchief in hand, wiping fake tears, again “THEY LOv E ME, THEY REALLY LOVE ME, THEY ARE ALL HERE TO SEE ME ME ME ME ME”🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤥🤥🤥🤣🤣🤣She has told LG in no uncertain terms SHE WILL BE THERE!!!

“ O $h!t, Harry’s just txt me”

Someone has just received a text from Harry and is surprised, but not on a good way to receive the text. Who would this be? His family would all be glad as would his mates. I can only conclude it’s madam, but why would Harry text her? Harry is in Japan having an awesome time with the Tindalls, cousins and cousin Peter and likely others at the Rugby World Cup finals. Did Harry drunk text her?? Sorry, this clue l cannot firmly say l think it’s…. hmmmm. Is it William, is Harry having panic or PTSD issues in Japan? I pray it’s nothing like that!! I can say for certain, the text and it’s contents were of concern and surprise by the recipient of the text.

👻👹🦄🦎👶🧣🧣🤫

The beautiful,awesome,beloved Cambridge family and their Halloween costumes. Catherine as a ghost, William as monster, Prince George as a lizard, Princess Charlotte as her favourite unicorn, baby Louis l can’t see a costume for him. The adults will have an adult Halloween 🎃 party after the little ones are in bed. They are keeping it private judging by the shushing emoji

and two scarfs😄😄😄😄🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂 keeping the scarfing tradition alive and well, madam will NOT be invited or even aware!! I hope they post photos of the costumes but it’s private family fun!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

October 32/2019 1535 hrs CST

Wonderful! Thank you dear PG….you are such fun! Looks interesting. Much appreciated!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜👻

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104: Nov. 1

MM ANON … She Telegraphed it !!…… mechanically damaged 🤣🤣🤣……… rugby widow😭😭😭……alone on the Balcolonial …… “ Turn around re-play”…… wading through the Slush…… an American Psycho…… PR-int error ………🎼”God only knows “🎼…… 🧣🐓👯‍♀️🤔😭🤥……🎼”Wake up ,little ……… wake up“🎼…… “ I may wear purple Philip “…… “epic old thing ‘ that’ll p!$$ her orf “…… “hair of the DOG Harry”🤣🤣🤣”lets PARTY”……… 15-9 ……… “OK , give me £500”. …… $h!t, I’ve lost my phone!!……” OMG’ all those photos on it!!”

THANK YOU MM ANON

FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1/2019

2000hrs

She Telegraphed it !!

They say, especially with actors/actresses that if they don’t give 100% in their performance that they’re phoned it in’ example being Jeff Goldblum is the dinosaur films. This says telegraphed it. Madam had a ‘lunch interview’ hardly a serious on camera intense question, body language observed interview, with Bryony Gordon of The Telegraph newspaper. It was more of her fluff, pardon the pun, fluff word salads etc. Another pitiful performance!

mechanically damaged 🤣🤣🤣

Well the ‘stiff upper lip’ manner in which the British people live is internally damaging according to madam in the masterpiece ITV documentary, sure to win award after award. So l think, MM ANON is being extremely cheeky here, the being frozen out completely now from the Royal family, last public appearance with Harry has been done, and the narcissist robot has been mechanically damaged, internal process error, 🤖.🤣🤣🤣

rugby widow😭😭😭

I am sure madam is spitting nails at where her life is at now. Harry is off in Japan, back to his life, thank you God, watching the rugby with family and friends, while poor madam and archficial are left alone to weep. The term widow is often used where l live as golf widow. It can be any sport really where the male in the relationship attends or watches or plays and his female partner is left alone, hence the term widow.

alone on the Balcolonial …… “ Turn around re-play”

Well the letter of support from 72 female MP’s mentioned colonialism and referenced articles in newspapers about madam. Well that being the Royal family being colonialists, the balcony would be the summit expression of it according to that way of thinking. Well RD or RS, balcony appearance will be the Royal family. Since madam is not part of the family she will not be there. Now l was wrong about this before but l don’t think l am now. Madam, should she attempt a gate crash will be told to turn around, not by a Harry but by security staff!!

wading through the Slush

When the snow melts and gets all slushy and wet it’s perfect for a snowball fight and just makes the coolest sound when you wade is your Welles/rubbers. Slush here is capitalized, this has NOTHING AT ALL to do with snow. The forensics accountants l mentioned yesterday are probably long wading through her accounts. A Slush fund is reserve of money used for illicit purposes, especially political bribery. You can be darn sure madam has or had a number of these! Maybe they’re all tapped out, she’s skint , alone, things with Harry over…..oh please let this be the correct interpretation!!

an American Psycho

Treble Charger, wow MM ANON I am impressed!! This song was huge huge huge! All about the most narcissistic female, doing anything and everything, misdemeanour or felony, trying to get and keep fame. These lyrics perfectly absolutely perfectly fit madam!!!

PR-int error

PR , upper case, has madam’s PR sent something out for print that with all the lies, it’s EXTREMELY hard to keep track, but something so glaringly obviously contradicts things that have been said before?? Oh l would love to see THAT!! Lies do catch up you know that, don’t you Rachel?

🎼”God only knows “ 🎼

Two songs, Beach Boys, lyrics about how a relationship feelings last forever even if they are apart or break up. I read this as positive feelings but one could infer negative angry, vengeful l guess. There is a song, same title, by a Christian duo called For King and Country, the asking is a God the country is the musical style. The lyrics though, they so fit damaged people , how they choose to damage and inflict it onto others. Whichever song you chose MM ANON, either of these describe the realtor some degree and the individuals involved.

🧣🐓👯‍♀️🤔😭🤥

Okay scarf/scarfing, chicken/hen, two playboy bunnies, a pondering/ questioning face, crying massively, Pinocchio/ liar.

Madam has been scarfed or left out of the Japan trip, she’s the hen, imagining/wondering if Harry with other sexy women, crying inconsolably because she’s lost, lying , well she lies about every. Wondering what lies or how she can get to Japan, what lies can she tell to find out his hotel, show up there or get in at the Rugby.

🎼”Wake up ,little ……… wake up“🎼

The Everly Brothers, l saw a impersonation concert once it was awesome! Wake up little Suzy. This is from the 1950’s l think. A couple goes on a date to a drive-in movie and fall asleep, now they’re in big big trouble because their parents will think something hanky panky has gone on. Is madam wondering and steaming at the thought of a Harry having a fun weekend away? What he might get up to? Might a certain female be there? Ooooo l just imagine her fury!!

“ I may wear purple Philip “…… “epic old thing ‘ that’ll p!$$ her orf “

Again 🔥 fireside 🍸 cocktails conversation between HMTQ and PP. They are having a go at madam. All these cheeky references REALLY have me thinking it’s done, the marriage is done, this Sunday may be MOS Sunday release the hounds! HMTQ is jocular saying she will wear purple for RD/RS , as madame so insultingly wore purple to the OTW evening. PP chuckling and making the comment above. 🤣🤣😂😂

“hair of the DOG Harry”🤣🤣🤣”lets PARTY”……… 15-9 ……… “OK , give me £500”.

These all go together l think. The phrase hair of the dog that bit you, is abbreviated here, simply means if you’re drunk and hungover have a drink to fix the hsngiver🤣🤣😂😂. The weekend in a Japan is a party! FINALLY HARRY IS FREE!! The numbers probably are the wishes/bets on the final score with England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 winning. I wonder, they wouldn’t bet against England. £500 whose giving and whose getting….l know on the days of unhappy people and fate there were so many rumours how long it would last most said not two years. I think there was a term degree bride? Three years? Am l right? I wonder if someone made a net with a Harry or amongst the cousins. I am HOPING this is so, because it would be yet another indication things were done and a Harry is free of her!!

$h!t, I’ve lost my phone!!……” OMG’ all those photos on it!!”

Again, MM ANON PLEASE let this all be leading to freedom!

Madam has ‘lost’ her phone and freaking out because all her filth was on there!!! Can you hear lady Justice?? No sympathy!

November 1/2019 2055 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG! As sick as you are, you can’t help yourself! We greatly appreciate this and you! You are so sweet! Now go and take care of yourself! We don’t want to wear you out! Love and prayers…..😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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105: Nov. 2

MM ANON … “ You are part of this monarchy, you WILL adhere to its traditions”…… “ her past, so embarrassing!!”…… Rogue PR…… “we’ve “cleaned” her phone ma’am”…… “ I fear it’s still out there”…… promoting the impossible …… “ give this one to William” “ thank goodness we have one classic beauty,old thing “ …… “ is Charles thinking of leap-frogging to William ,Philip?”……” my teams made arrangements “…… “shut up!! It’s my Duty!!”…… 🎼” to dream the impossible dream “🎼……”total meltdown sweetie”

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 2/2019 1510 hrs CST RIDDLE #105

“ You are part of this monarchy, you WILL adhere to its traditions”

Notice what’s NOT said, family, you’re part of this Monarchy NOT you’re part of this family!! Very clear distinct difference. Until there is an annulment or divorce she has her role as Duchess of blah blah.

Madam has been hiding behind wigs, trees, apron strings, ANYTHING to avoid appearance in public at a public event because she is a coward. She lays and sets off the dynamite but wants no part of its after effects amongst the citizens. I spend many times wishing l were a fly on the wall but THIS oh oh l would pay money to have seen this scene. She is being told by LG, or quite possibly by the wordage and the way it’s phrased by HMTQ Herself, that she in no uncertain terms will attend public appearances for RS or RD services. Now she thinks this is all about her, this is about all of the Fallen , veterans, injured and their families. I think emotions are raw all around for people this time of year. I hope she is gone by then, but this could also refer to the NATO dinner in December. She needs to conduct herself accordingly. I think since her phone was cleaned, there is a fair bit more confidence in pushing her to do things, ultimately hoping a huge public moment of reality/embarrassment for her. The sad thing, a true narcissist is incapable of embarrassment, self pity absolutely, but not embarrassment!

“ her past, so embarrassing!!”

We don’t know , many years are missing/lost, what she did during those years. We do have enough knowledge of yachting, porn, disgusting acts, selling her body, heart, soul, filth beyond what any decent mind could fathom! Hobbies of all sorts, mostly allegedly outside the law. The normal woman would be ashamed and would be embarrassed by, as the speaker of these words is, but a true narcissist madam is, a million lies juggling all at once, l do not know how it’s kept straight, well it’s not that’s why there are always so many mistakes she makes.

Rogue PR

SS has been nothing if not Rogue, going where none have gone before. I dare say they may continue, and more insinuating lies be spread about our Royals. Be prepared, this fight is in the gutter, it rose from there, and will be sent back from whence it came.

“we’ve “cleaned” her phone ma’am”

LG informing HMTQ that madams lost phone was not lost at all but it decided to turn itself in🤣🤣😂😂. All that she kept on their has been removed aka cleaned. We have discussed this awhile ago. Amongst the world of the men in grey, there are many varied services they do. Cleaning or scrubbing a phone is one such service. Any incriminating recordings or photos or videos or emails or texts or stone tablets, EVERYTHING is cleaned off. Knowing they are not dealing with brightest tool in the shed, she probably didn’t back up her information.

“ I fear it’s still out there”

Whatever secret, private, perhaps sexual content video that was cleaned off the phone, HMTQ is still fearing a copy is still in someone’s possession. There is something specific of concern, l have no idea what it is, but it’s of high concern and worry that “it” still out there.

promoting the impossible

Promoting the happy marriage, just H🤣🤣🤣😂😂 and madam against the world. Well H is Prince Harry, his family has fully encircled him, and he is done being threatened by her and whatever was on her phone. SS is still at it, making madam ever the spontaneous soul who loves to flit like a hummingbird quietly to a charity bakery, using no gloves, making an interview from 18 months seem as though it were current but was not. Making it seem like lunch meeting in a restaurant when it wasn’t, it was in a room at the bakery. Never the truth, everything always twisted. Why must everything even such inconsequential things be lied about. BECAUSE the agenda and the person are evil.!Thats why!

“ give this one to William”

We have had this exact clue before. I can’t recall what l thought at the time, but l think having a sit down with madam, telling her face to face things are done, William would do very well and after all the lies madam allegedly spread about his marriage, l think he would take a certain amount of satisfaction in showing her from the palace door to the alleged paddy wagon.

“ thank goodness we have one classic beauty,old thing “ “ is Charles thinking of leap-frogging to William ,Philip?”

Again, my favourite scene, 🔥 fireplace lit, evening relaxing clothes, 📺 on, cocktails 🍸 in hand talking between HMTQ and PP. PP reflecting on the amazing blessing of having Catherine in the family, not just in the family but at William’s side, raising their family, such a solid level-headed woman. In them the future of the modern Monarchy is strong. HMTQ talking about Prince Charles passing over his being King going straight to William. This has been discussed before, initially because the public had a strong distaste for Camilla. That has settled now, she is accepted. Charles, his age, given all that has happened, may well be pondering the 21st century Monarchy needs William.

” my teams made arrangements “

LG team have made arrangements for what? To move madam? Pack her stuff up? Take her to Heathrow, put her on a plane? If she goes to America for their Thanksgiving, where would she go, she has no friends, Doria? Would she want to return to the U.K. after that, would they even let her in?? Doria, who now has 8 million in her bank account, why would she want saddled with madam?, she didn’t look after her as a child why would she now? Madam has ghosted anybody who actually loved and cared for her. It’s pathetically sad broken life. Legal issues, taxes?? And on and on, then of course there is the wee matter of alleged Treason, the of the body law, and any alleged procuring of females in those lost years.

“shut up!! It’s my Duty!!”

Harry , God bless you, has resumed duty. How fine did he look in a Japan, Prince Albert of Monaco, the Japanese Crown Prince Akishino, the son of the Emperor. I am in tears so happy, he looks so happy and well. I think he has gained back some weight and has rested. Now to this clue. It can only be madam he is talking to. She is yammering away at him, he telling her in no uncertain terms he will do his Duty! She is probably pleading to not have to attend RD or RS services, he has made his Duty clear! Of all things now to pick a fight over? When he missed a military attack anniversary and got roasted badly for that. He is clear headed now, and putting things right.

🎼” to dream the impossible dream “🎼

This is Ol Blue Eyes, My Way. Jerry Lewis used to always sing this at the end of the Labour Day MDS telethon, until he was deemed too old and not politically correct enough for the charity and after over 40 years raising hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars,they yanked the annual telethon. I still am upset by that. Anyhow, if there every was a song for a narcissist the title My Way for sure. Everything at a cost of a country , Commonwealth, everything, lack of respect she has done her way!

As for Prince Harry, he probably thought this would go on forever and being free from her would be an impossible dream.

Well, l think we are so close to the end, l can taste it! I could not be happier! If l were a dog, my tail would be wagging!

”total meltdown sweetie”

Reality is going to hit her hard. She has nothing, no one, all her Hollywood friends were sycophants, her backers are filthy rich, they don’t care about her, she was a means to an end. That’s all she has ever been, years selling herself a means to some mans ending. Her mental status, likely is going to hit the wall. Total meltdown exactly. I hope it happens in America, they have phone lines there to get help.

November 2/2019

1635 hrs CST

Love this! We are making progress……her phone….too funny, thank you dear PG, so appreciate it….😊💜💜💜💜

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Nov.3

PG you have mail💜💜💜💜

MM/ ALLEGEDLY …… prayers and love 💜💜 you’re way pg. 💜💜💜💜💜💜 GWS.

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106: Nov. 3

MM ANON … ‘ and in the morning, we shall Booo!!!……… Mall-content. …… camera click ‘ I’m OK!!…… “ sit Harry with Melania??”………… a reduced detachment …… “ it’s in the Fine print M’lud”…… “ what!! a night of fruity duty” …… “6 of the 13 are solid!! “…… “ leapfrogging, not a chance old thing” …… “ the right order of things Philip” ……… “ my apologies for the interruption Ma’am”…… “ One should act post-haste”…… “ and keep Harry out of this”. ……… O’ Kate, I hear she got quite scwiffy Philip”.

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Thank you for the message and kind words, message received and extremely appreciated.💜💜💜

November 3/2019 1245 hrs CST Riddle #105

‘ and in the morning, we shall Booo!!!

Is this booo as related to Halloween? Nope we are past that. Where and when will madam get booed?? The morning, what or when is her next morning appearance? The reason l am thinking the early morning RD sunrise service or other RS , is because the line up until the word Booo!!! Is from the classic Laurence Binyon’s For The Fallen, it was in a previous riddle. Will it be RS, gosh that would be awfully disrespectful to the fallen. I don’t know, but l like it!! Sign me up, l shall boooo, l have plenty of time🤣🤣🤣😂😂.

Mall-content.

Malcontent, that’s such a great underused word. a person who is dissatisfied and rebellious, dissatisfied and complaining or making trouble. Who does this sound like? Here MM ANON has given us MALL -content. Content is being peaceful, relaxed, satisfied in the moment. The MALL is the great long road leading to Buckingham Palace. There is plenty more online, if you’re interested in learning or even travelling there. Suffice to say it’s an important street and the royal and horse processions always go along the Mall. Now it’s not pronounce mall as in North American shopping malls, it’s more of a Mael(Strom) how the first part of that word is pronounced. Put together MALL and being content, peaceful , can mean only one thing to me MADAM WILL NOT BE IN THE CARRIAGE HORSE PROCESSION ON RS!!!!!😊😊😊☺️😊😊😊

camera click ‘ I’m OK!!

Madams non public appearance at the bakery . She needs publicity like she needs air, more sometimes l think. Has someone taken her photo and an article that she’s ok, upper case double exclamation mark? I think MM ANON yet again is being cheeky. We saw an abundance, a plethora of photos of Harry in Japan and they all looked fantastic. He looks like our Harry again!!! Gorgeous, no make that handsome in that blue suit, oh my, l am all a flutter!! Believe nothing about that I’m married comment! THST he said to the student who called him handsome!🧐😏And his time spent with Para-athletes, more casual but ever so important to him.

“ sit Harry with Melania??”

This is reference to the NATO banquet in December when President and Mrs Trump will attend, along with other NATO leaders, a dinner that HMTQ will host. Oh l can hardly wait to see the gowns and JEWELRY!! Sounds like Harry will be seated next to Mrs.Trump. No mention of madam. WHOO HOO!!!! Heaven knows where she will be then and only Heaven can help her soul.

a reduced detachment

Detachment has several meanings but the one that applies here l believe is, group of troops, aircraft, or ships sent away on a separate mission. Each year, RD or RS , the number of veterans who saw and went through the horrors of WWII lessen, as they pass away. Each year, we lose current veterans of Iraq, Bosnia, Syria, many conflicts where British and Commonwealth troops served, have served, or currently serve. Those that return many suffer physical losses of limbs or something else, suffer injuries causing TBI, traumatic brain injury and/or PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder. We lose many to suicide each and every day. Harry lost his close veteran Jules Roberts to suicide and this year will be his first RS, RD mourning that loss.

“ it’s in the Fine print M’lud”

Anytime you sign anything, credit card/atm application, insurance papers, anything legal, there is always fine print, often so tiny it seems you’re not meant to actually read it🤣🤣😂😂. This is a way some companies get out of providing services, ie mobile phone contracts here a few years ago, they got away with exorbitant fees to change phones, plans etc. So someone is talking to a Lord, likely LG, saying something of importance has been noted in the fine print, but of what document? Is it treason charges?Is it her VISA to stay in the U.K.? Is it the legal papers being drawn up for charges? Is it a contract she signed, didn’t read and they have her in a bind now? Is this the legal annulment, with the evidence they gathered from madams phone? The fine print of in the laws of annulment of marriage in the U.K. Anyone have time or ability to search that out?

“ what!! a night of fruity duty”

I wonder if the Cambridge children went trick or treating at Gan Gan’s. I can only imagine them in their costumes, all excited! Next year, hopefully Prince Louis will be old enough to enjoy the fun!

This clue, the sentence structure is rhetorical. As if someone is being asked to do something , that the person asking them knows they are not keen on keen to do. The term fruity duty , for some reason makes me think child care. 🍉 fruit no wine, duty as in childcare. Or madam loves her pink water, is someone not interested in spending time with her, as that would only be a duty.

“6 of the 13 are solid!! “

This makes me think of evidence, jury deciding something, they always have an extra. Solid in their vote or judicial opinion favouring the writer. I wonder if this is in terms of Treason law or annulment law in the U.K. Whatever was cleaned from madams mobile, is it clear evidence of the plot, plan to manipulate marriage? I think they have found something they needed to fulfill the a Treason charge, allegedly as well! From English Treason law “

An alien resident in the United Kingdom owes allegiance to the Crown, and may be prosecuted for high treason. The only exception is an enemy lawful combatant in wartime, e.g. a uniformed enemy soldier on British territory.” I cannot access what l need, but l am very certain this is some sort of judicial committee whose votes are needed for a Treason charges! It is being stated here, with multiple exclamation marks the number of yea votes are solid, meaning secure on the side of the Crown, in this case.

“ leapfrogging, not a chance old thing” …… “ the right order of things Philip” ……… “ my apologies for the interruption Ma’am”

Oh MM ANON, you know l love these. Again, come along with me and my imagination. It’s cold evening, 🔥 fire lit, comfy yet very elegant relaxing evening clothes, l picture HMTQ in a velvet cozy shawl over her knees, hopefully, purple! She and her husband are talking things over. Discussing, as was in yesterday’s riddle, bumping PC out of order of succession and going straight to crowning William as King, when the time comes. HMTQ has, her entire reign, held fast to protocol, in all matters with the exception of lower the flag to half staff when Diana died and bowing her head at her casket was driven by. Sounds like whoever’s idea that was, they have duly pondered and discussed it and there will be no change in the order of ascending the throne. Someone interrupts them, asking for/ or needing HMTQ’s attention. I think it has to be LG.

“ One should act post-haste”

LG has arrived and informed her/updated HMTQ of what was found in the fine print. The term post haste comes from the mid 16th century: from the direction ‘haste, post, haste’, formerly given on letters it means to act or react to something with haste, act immediately with great speed. So they have a limited window of time to respond or act to what was noted in the fine print.

“ and keep Harry out of this”.

Harry is to be kept out of any treasonous possible, or any legal charges that may be pending, allegedly. Harry has been through enough! They want him healing and recovering. HMTQ does not want his name to appear anywhere near madams allegedly plotting and scheming and alleged financial crimes. Thinking especially in regards to the newly minted Sussex Foundation! There are so many rabbit holes l could go down due to the extreme level of complications of who madam has allegedly been involved with and various allegedly financial misdeeds on both sides of the ocean.

O’ Kate, I hear she got quite scwiffy Philip”.

I burst out laughing when l read this🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣. Still chuckling! There must have been an awesome, adults only, after trick or treating, scarfing madam, Halloween party because scwiffy, 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂🤣🤣 is tipsy/drunk but not passed out drunk. Good for you Catherine, you deserve it after your stressful trip, the stress of everyday plus the worst, dealing with madam and watching Harry fall apart . I am trying to picture our elegant, Received Pronunciation speaking Catherine tipsy, 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

November 3/2019 1420 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG! Sounds like progress….sounds like she will appear at RD..no carriage….and a balcony appearance….alone! Much appreciated, you work so hard for us!💜💜💜💜💜

———————

107: Nov 4

MM ANON …… RD,will she ‘won’t she?…… a Congressional offer…… The foundations support …… 🎼” don’t stop thinking about tomorrow”🎼………a bit LAX of her…… W&Ks PR assault …“ the popularity of the children your Highness”……” Popular!! we call it “Charlottes Web 🤣🤣”……” it’s the future direction ma’am”…… “she imploded ma’am ,end of!! “…… “ Christmas!! A family portrait ma’am , only the family “…… “ it’s exciting Philip ‘ a new chapter “…… “any cream caramel left old thing”. … tut tut,dyspepsia Philip”

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 4/2019 1140 hrs CST. Riddle #106

As Yoda would say, challenging more and more becoming are your riddles MM ANON and I LIKE IT😁😁😁😁

RD,will she ‘won’t she?

Ahh the question we all want to know. Will madam face the public , attend services or ceremonies and risk being booed. I still cannot see a public booing at such somber days when we are to remember the fallen. On November 10th, l read HMTQ will view the services from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office building balcony. Perhaps this is how they got around a balcony appearance by madam! Brilliant!

a Congressional offer

The American federal government is made up of three co-equal parts. They are the Executive, (President and about 5,000,000 workers) the Legislative (Senate and House of Representatives) and the Judicial (Supreme Court and lower Courts). Currently, although it’s not in my time right now to follow but they are in a tumultuous impeachment process. I am not sure of any of the particulars. So what would the Congress have to offer the U.K. especially while their own country needs them paying attention. Is this in regards to Brexit? I have, and l try not to do this, but l have looked all over online, l can find nothing if an offer of this nature, recently. Has an offer been made regarding madams charges or custody? Again the Congress would not be involved in this. Sorry kids, l just don’t know. I am assuming this is the U.S. Congress, maybe l shouldn’t.

The light went on, sometimes when l am stuck, if l read it out loud it comes to me, as now. The EU, 🇪🇺 European Union as a political Assembly of local and regional elected representatives, the Congress is the voice of Europe’s 200,000 regions and municipalities. It promotes the strengthening of local and regional democracy in all Council of Europe member States.

The EU won’t decide on a Brexit extension until next week, as it waits for MPs in Westminster to decide on Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s call for a snap election, senior EU officials and diplomats said Friday.The bloc has agreed on the need to delay the current October 31 deadline, but there is still disagreement over how much time. EU Council President Donald Tusk has called for granting the extension requested by Boris a Johnson in accordance with U.K. law, until January 31, but French President Emmanuel Macron has pressed for a shorter delay to keep strong pressure on Britain to ratify the Brexit Withdrawal Agreement.

The foundations support

The royal foundations all of them, support so many charities. I was absolutely fascinated to learn on 🐼 blog last night that HMTQ registered the Sussex name several years ago in planning for when Prince Harry married but after, the day after madam showed alleged baby Archie in SA, the registration was cancelled/went dead as it’s called. That was the lady but of the treason allegedly. Wonder why Harry didn’t use the drool cloth? DNA, Baby drool all over his hand!!

Especially at this time of year, it’s the hardest time for those in need. Once madam is gone, Harry will be readied to the Royal Foundation. None of his patronage’s have been removed from him, another sign he was aligned with his family. I am certain her title and all patronage’s will be stripped. How happy with the British Theatre 🎭 be!!! Oh Happy Days!

🎼” don’t stop thinking about tomorrow”🎼

Again we have Fleetwood MAC and Clinton presidential theme song. MM ANON is reminding us, don’t lose heart, we are nearly there! Keep chin up, focused on tomorrow! I am not sure if it’s LITERALLY tomorrow, although l would not complain. I think very very soon!!

a bit LAX of her

Lax can mean lazy, not bothering with details, this does describe a certain someone. However, LAX is the airport in Los Angeles,California . So will she indeed be going “home” for Christmas? Will she take archificial with her so he can experience his first American thanksgiving holiday? I wonder if she will be captured accidentally oops l rant hired Splash news to paparazzi her as she has done before?? She will be so glad to get away from the mean Brits but does she have a place to go? So sad reality, such a wasted life.

W&Ks PR assault

They don’t need TO PAY for any PR. They are loved as are their children. Even the smallest most normal thing as shopping for Halloween costumes makes the news. I think this refers to the assault that launched on them, and poor Rose Hanbury by association by , let’s face it, l don’t need evidence nor do l need to say who has that much jealousy driven hatred to do something like that.

“ the popularity of the children your Highness”

Someone speaking to either a Prince William or Duchess Catherine exclaiming the over the top love and popularity of these three lovies!!💜💜💜!!! They get asked about them seemingly every appearance. Any photos that are shared are wildly popular. I most especially adore that Catherine is such a fantastic photographer. The first bsby photos were taken by her, you see them from the mother’s loving eye, just makes them so much more special!

” Popular!! we call it “Charlottes Web 🤣🤣”

In HMTQ’s annual Christmas message, l am certain there will be video of the Cambridge children in it. in it. Charlottes Web in a favourite of mine, and many, children’s book by E.B.White. Read it with your children and grandchildren, it’s lovely. This is referencing what used to be called the World Wide Web, the internet, then the net, now its online. Each child has their own page on the official royal website. It’s amazing, with that, twitter, instagram, they are completely a 21st royal family! Sounding like Charlotte is a bit controlling of the devices, seeing herself online, thinks it’s made just for her!! And so she should😁 🤣🤣😂😂🤣🤣 Love those children💜💜💜

” it’s the future direction ma’am”

As stated above, the digital world is here and only becoming more important. Soon we will have things never even thought of today. I should have put these three clues together, oh well. This will be a thoroughly 21st King and Queen when the time comes but for now they are as modern as can be whilst retaining tradition and family. It’s truly astounding, l have no idea how they manage it and it all seems so natural. That’s the key, knowing a balance and the public love them all the more because of it.

“she imploded ma’am ,end of!! “

When given the news that she was done, being removed, and not given a VISA to return to England or perhaps not permitted to leave the U.K. for alleged charges filed or pending, l can only imagine. Justice will be served. We can all sort of visualize in our heads what that might be like, l highly think she will need urgent psychiatric hospitalization, she will fracture, truly fracture mentally. This is LG reporting to HMTQ what happened. This may have already happened for all we know!! Seems her mobile phone turning itself in and getting immunity for giving evidence against her🤣🤣😂 was the last bit they needed.

“ Christmas!! A family portrait ma’am , only the family “

Yes , a royal Christmas portrait, only the family, no madam. I love how easily she was airbrushed out of Prince Louis’ Christening photo by an anon that did that on 🐼 blog! This will be a joyous Christmas for our royals!!! Planning Christmas, her annual message on Christmas Day and a new photo for all of us! Oh wait, might this be a painting? The word portrait, no way there would be time for a painting by Christmas, silly me! Is it LG that is proposing this? I say they should include him, at the back, plenty of bald Windsor’s, he would look right in place🤣🤣😂😂.

“ it’s exciting Philip ‘ a new chapter “”any cream caramel left old thing”. tut tut,dyspepsia Philip”

Again, my favourite, HMTQ and PP, talking over the days events, l know you’re getting sick of me setting the scene but fireplace lit🔥 , comfortable clothes, tv 📺 on, cocktails 🍸. HMTQ so pleased, relieved and happy that this vicegrip hell hold is nearly done, she already knows when the end is. Just looking forward to the fresh new chapter, letting the justice system care for madam and her backers. PP hankering for a repeat of pudding but she tut tuts him on it. Marvellous end to the riddle, MM ANON, marvellous and full of hope!!! GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

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zillennial97 · 3 years

Text

My All-Time Favorites | Larry Fanfic Recs

*these works are the closest to my heart and my best recommendations*

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Fucking Animals by pointerbrother | 116k | Explicit

“Just, off the record,” she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, “don’t you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.”

Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. “No,” he exclaims, offended that she’d even ask, “I love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something I’ve never had?”

---

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

This Wicked Game by cherrystreet | 70k | Explicit

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

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the-walking-memelords · 5 years

Text

Allegiances: Chapter 19

Series is rated M

Word Count: 2958

Sometimes you just need to do what you need to and try to live with the aftermath.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

AJ ran until his lungs burned as tears streamed down his cheeks, cutting tracks through the smears of walker guts. The boy heeded Clementine’s advice, the sun’s hot rays burned against his back as he let his shadow guide him until he stood before a giant metal fence. The original bars were bent and busted, sheet metal affixed to block the wall’s occupants from outside view.

The small boy heaved and wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, his mind feeling fuzzy and dizzy as he stumbled forward. AJ tried to call out, form any words at all, but the sentences came out broken in shards as he struggled to remain standing. Completely exhausted, he sank to the dried leaves below, looking up and seeing a thin figure leaned over the wall.

“Mitch! Louis! It’s the kid!” The boy’s raspy voice carried loudly through the air. AJ wondered why he would yell like that. Monsters would hear him even from far away.

A smaller gate off to the side let out a metallic shriek as it was quickly swung on its hinges, clattering loudly against the brick. Two figures bolted from the opening, one wearing a big coat he remembered was Louis. Louis fell to his knees next to AJ, putting his hands on the blood-soaked boy’s shoulders.

“AJ, are you okay? Where’s Clementine?” His eyes darted wildly to the forest around them, frantically searching for her.

“C-C...lem go… got…” AJ coughed out, wheezing and choking on the smell of his own gut-smeared clothes.

We have to go back for her!

Louis sent the other boy a concerned look before AJ was scooped up into his arms.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you.” He assured as AJ struggled to stay awake.

Louis called out for someone as he placed the boy down at one of the picnic tables, most of the others immediately crowding around. AJ still shook as his breathing began to calm, though the words remained clogged in his throat. Not even he knew what to say, however, as a flurry of faces he had mostly only seen in passing before had now surrounded him.

“Alright, all y’all give the kid some space!” A loud and commanding voice came from a chubby girl with bright orange hair. Her imposing tone immediately vanished once she kneeled down in front of him, her eyes turning soft and trusting. “Hey there, sug’, I’m Ruby. Are you hurt at all?”

“No.” He breathed out, rubbing away some of the guts on his face with his sleeve.

“But Clem is.”

Ruby and Louis both froze. They stared at him with eyes filled with even more worry than before.

“She got bit.”

Everyone around him became quiet and still. Horror across their faces hidden with varying levels of obscurity.

“No…” Louis broke the silence as he stood, hands gripping tightly at his dreads, a mannerism he’d seen in Clem many times.

“That’s not fucking true. No fucking way. Not her. Not her.”

Louis paced in a small circle as a few tears cascaded down his freckled face. Another tall boy with an angry red cut stitched up across his cheek put a hand on his shoulder, pulling Louis into a half hug.

“Clem said you’re a doctor.” He pleaded with the girl.

“So you gotta help her. She’ll die if you don’t.

“AJ I can’t fix a bite. Nothing can.” She said solemnly, her voice beginning to break.

“I got rid of it though!” He argued.

“What do you mean?” Louis stepped forward, face painted with pain and confusion.

“How did you ‘get rid’ of a bite?”

“I cut her leg off.”

---

AJ lead the way as Louis followed quickly beside. Ruby with her medical bag and a boy named Aasim with a bow in his hand brought up the rear as the four of them raced through the trees to find their lost friend. Birds soared through the branches overhead, twittering almost mockingly as if trying to make the people below jealous of their speed and freedom.

What remained of James' barn sat in a clearing at the end of the path, the walls having had huge holes torn into them by the onslaught of walkers that now lay dead around its perimeter.

"What the fuck happened here?" Aasim asked in shock as he checked for any around them that might still be moving.

"Clem got too sick to run, so we hid." AJ jumped over each rotting corpse, having previously made sure none would come back again.

"I stopped them from getting in."

Louis didn't stop to listen to the boy's response as he threw open the double doors. AJ was hesitant to enter, not entirely sure what he'd find inside. He watched Louis look around before rushing down to where Clementine had been laying with Ruby following him in. Were they too late? AJ felt he owed it to Clem to see for himself, no matter the final result of what he'd done to her.

She's gonna live. Stop thinking like that, dummy.

Clem's the toughest ever.

AJ forced every step forward until he crossed the threshold. Louis crouched next to her, muttering lowly into her ear, his voice catching every few words. The older boy ran his thumb across her pale cheek, eliciting no response from the unconscious girl. The shallow rise and fall of her chest being the only sign of life.

AJ couldn’t watch her deathly face any longer, his eyes instead moving to where Ruby sat on the other side of Clem. She unwrapped the blood-soaked hoodie from the stump he had tied it to, the infected segment of her leg laid detached less than a foot away. Everything about this looked so wrong to AJ.

“You… cauterized it?” The girl said with a tone of surprise. The smell of burning flesh still emanated from the wound.

“Where’d you learn that?”

AJ just crossed his arms and shrugged. He knew the people at the Delta were bad, and they taught him a lot of things. AJ feared if he told them too much they might think he was bad too.

They must have thought Clem was bad.

Clementine told him when you do bad things you have to ‘atone’ for them. Maybe this is why they helped her now because she ‘atoned’ for the bad things she did because of the Delta.

AJ recognized the bottle Ruby held in her hand. Medicine for cleaning. He remembered how horribly it burned whenever he got a bad cut. He watched Clementine’s face intently, disheartened when she showed no reaction to touch.

“She’s so cold…” Louis croaked, his voice barely above a whisper as he rubbed Clementine’s frozen fingers in his hands.

“This is all I can do for now.” Ruby declared as she fastened the final bandage.

“She’s no doubt suffering from hypovolemic shock, and if she was as sick as AJ said she was, she could still turn.”

“She’s gonna make it!” AJ refused to believe otherwise.

“None of you know Clem like I do. She’s stronger than anyone.”

The redhead looked at him with eyes of pity as she let out a disappointed huff, looking back at Clementine's expressionless face.

“Only time will tell I suppose.”

---

The walk back felt excruciatingly slow. Louis held Clem tight as he carried her with AJ holding the girl’s limp hand.

“Keep an eye on her breathing.” Ruby reminded. Casting them a nervously worried glance.

She just doesn’t get it.

Aasim waved to the same boy who was on watch before, signalling for him to open the gate. Upon entering, they were greeted to a rather distraught welcoming party.

“Is that them? Is she alive?” A blonde girl with bandages wrapped tightly over her eyes stood from her spot at a picnic table and tried to wander to way over to them, her arms waving wildly in front of her.

Violet, that was her name.

She was stopped by Tenn as he ran up beside her, grabbing firmly to her slim arm and narrating what he saw to the blinded girl.

“They all came back, and Clem… her leg really is gone…” His voice began to stutter.

“Clem? Clementine?” She tried to approach further, crying out to her friend.

“Is she dead? What happened?”

“She… ain’t out of the woods yet.” Ruby announced to the group.

“We just gotta wait and see if she wakes up… or if she… turns.”

“She’s gonna fucking make it, Ruby.” Louis hissed.

AJ followed after Louis as he took Clem into one of the school’s buildings. The hallway was littered with graffiti and bits of debris. Each wall was lined with rows of doors. He followed the older boy until he stopped outside a specific one.

“Can you get the door?” He asked to which AJ obliged, finding the sparsely decorated interior.

Louis placed Clementine on the bunk to the left, handling her as if she was made of glass. He watched him stroke her hair for a moment before stepping back to take in the horrid sight. The older boy fiddled with something in his pocket as he scanned her uncertainly, finally shaking his head and pulling out a roll of duct tape.

“What’s that for?” AJ asked as he hesitantly approached.

“Something that’ll at least get Ruby off our backs a little.” He said as he took her left hand, rubbing his thumb across her palm before bringing it to the metal post of the bed frame. AJ flinched at the sound of the ripping tape as Louis firmly attached Clementine’s wrist to the post.

The boy jumped up onto the bed next to his protector, his feet swinging off the side. He pinched her side in a spot he knew she was ticklish, begging for any response. The dark circles that hung under her eyes almost seemed to weigh them shut.

“How did this happen?” Louis’ voice was barely above a whisper.

“Right after we split up.” AJ answered.

“We tried to climb the rocks but she was already hurt and slow.”

It’s all Minerva’s fault.

AJ had never spoken to Minnie directly more than a couple of times, but the way her ice cold eyes always stared into him gave him a weird feeling. He always knew there was something weird about her, but he couldn’t have guessed she was that crazy. She was supposed to be the friend of these people, but she attacked them, and tried to kill her own brother! Clementine always taught him that family protects each other no matter what.

“Goddammit.” The tall boy stomped his foot as he began to pace around the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry.”

“She wouldn’t blame you, y’know.” That got him to stop pacing.

“She wanted you to protect Tenn, and you did. So she wouldn’t be mad.”

“That doesn’t make abandoning her like I did any more right.” Louis sniffed as he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his coat.

“That’s bullshit.”

Louis suddenly coughed, choking on nothing but air. He stared down at the boy and let out a small chuckle.

“I find it highly unlikely that Clementine lets you cuss, so I don’t think I should either.”

Damn.

“But thanks, kiddo.” He smiled.

The moment of levity in the air seemed to diminish as quickly as it appeared. Blowing out the window as they both glanced back at their reason for being in this room.

“What do we do now?” He asked Louis as he sat down hunched over on the opposite bunk, elbows resting on his knees and his head hung low.

“I guess we wait.”

And wait they did. Long minutes of silence quickly turned into hours as the room remained quiet with nothing but the soft wheezing of the girl in the bed to fill the void. They waited. Waited for her to show any signs of anything, but the girl’s small noises and shallow but steady breathing played over and over like a song on loop. A song that felt nothing like the music AJ knew. The sickly tunes held no resemblance to the sweet melodies she used to sing to him. All he could do was wait and hope that soon a more cheery theme would begin to play. Until then, they sat until the room began to grow dark with the setting sun.

A humble knock at the door was enough of an atmosphere change to cause them both to jump. Ruby entered holding a couple bowls of water in her hands, each with a tattered cloth hanging off the side.

“One for Clem’s head and the other to clean you up, little mister.” Ruby stated in a hesitantly cheerful tone.

AJ had forgotten about the state of himself. His loosely-fitting shirt stuck to his skin with the dried walker blood. The same stuff smeared dry and cracked on his face and hands, caked around his nails. He sat cross-legged on the floor with the bowl in front of him, dipping his hands into the cool water and watching it become tinged with red as he scrubbed his hands.

Ruby made her way over to Clementine and placed the back of her hand against the girl’s forehead, then moved to check her pulse.

“She ain’t runnin’ a fever which is good, but her pulse and breathing are still weaker than normal.” The redhead furrowed her brow.

“We’ll have to keep a close eye on her through the night, but there’s nothing we can do for her right now but let her rest.”

“How long until she wakes up?” AJ asked from his spot on the floor and was met with an apologetic look from the girl.

“If she does, It’ll either be sometime tonight or tomorrow. Which is why we should just make her comfortable and let her heal.”

Louis opened his mouth to speak but Ruby answered his question before he could even ask it.

“I don’t know, Louis. I wish I could tell you there was more I could do, but there just isn't.” She let out an exasperated sigh as her resolve began to crack and she turned away from them, heading to the door.

“Omar said dinner’s gonna be ready soon. You should see if Tenn or Willy have any old clothes for AJ, I’m gonna go check on Violet.”

AJ caught the edge of tears in her voice.

Louis left as AJ continued to scrub the blood from his skin. The chill of the evening air was amplified by the cool water. He stared at the now stained cloth sitting in the red water in front of him. He pushed it to the side, getting up and sitting on the bed next to Clem.

“Clementine?” He asked in a small voice.

“Can you hear me?”

Of course, no response came, but AJ wasn’t about to let that stop him.

“Ruby said you need to sleep a lot to get better, but don’t stay asleep too long, okay? Everyone’s really scared.”

AJ remembered something she had told him a long time ago.

“You’re the toughest boy in the whole world, AJ.”

“I’m not scared though. You taught me how to control my fear. How to be brave.”

“It’s okay to be scared, but never let it control you.”

“So I’m gonna be brave for everyone else. Just like you were brave for me all the time.”

AJ walked over to the dresser and pulled the fresh cloth out of the cold water, squeezing it and letting it drip back into the bowl. He carefully brought the damp cloth to Clementine’s face, wiping away Lilly’s blood.

Thinking about that evil woman gave AJ an odd feeling in his stomach. A feeling of something rotten and twisted. She made Clem do all kinds of bad things to people. All he wanted was to keep Lilly away from her. To protect her, just as she did for him. So AJ washed the remnants of Delta from Clementine’s skin.

They can’t touch us now.

The door creaked open again as Louis entered with a stack of clothes folded under his arm.

“These are from Tenn, back when he first got here. They should fit you.”

“Thank you.” AJ said as he put the cloth back into the bowl.

“Chef Omar, the cooking god of Ericson’s himself, has worked through the pain of the bullet hole in his leg -to Ruby’s dismay- and prepared us his signature rabbit stew.” The worry behind his smile was painfully obvious.

“If you don’t want to sit with the other kids yet that’s okay, I’ll bring you a bowl after you get changed.”

“Are… you gonna eat in here too?” Part of him didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course, little man.” He chimed optimistically.

“It’s up to us to look after Clem while she gets better.”

It’s our turn to take care of everything.

Louis held his hand out for a high five, to which AJ happily obliged. Louis cast the sleeping girl one final glance before heading off to the courtyard.

AJ rooted through the pile of clothes Louis had left behind. He chose a pair of plain blue jeans and a green t-shirt depicting what used to be his favourite toy.

Discooooo Brrroccoli!

He grabbed the rest of the pile and unceremoniously threw it into the bottom drawer of the wooden dresser, leaving the blood-stained garments piled against the wall. He stopped at the door just before he went to follow Louis, turning back to the girl on the bed.

“I’ll be right back.” He said to Clementine.

“I promise we won't talk too loud.”

You get to rest now.

Just like you always wanted.

#My writing #allegiances #clouis #fanfic #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg aj

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scullyy · 5 years

Text

Time’s Arrow

Title: Time’s Arrow

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 1561

Summary: When AJ tries to teach Louis how to properly hold a gun, he has to face up to one of his biggest fears

A/N: This was based off an ask @rumchatacream received about a scene that was cut during the game, in his words, "Basically: AJ gently helps teach Louis how to properly hold and aim a gun (since Lou isn't a great or confident shot). So, it's a little conversation between the two of them followed by Louis opening up to Clementine about his fear of possibly having to kill someone."

Enjoy :)

His eyes couldn't travel away from the slight bulge in the kid's jacket, the way he danced without a care in the world was baffling. AJ was so small, yet so in tune with the ways of the world. The shape that protruded his red coat was that of a gun, an object that had remained invisible to Louis until the night AJ used it on his best friend.

It was such a strange weapon, it had the power to wipe out multiple walkers within seconds but when the bullets run out your time is up. That weapon also held copious amounts of power over people; people trying to survive, sometimes even innocent people.

"Hey AJ," Louis discreetly motioned for him to come closer, he didn't want the other kids to hear his request. "Can I...can I look at your gun?" His voice was hushed like a ghost, he felt like one too. Seeing all his friends mingling, enjoying their youth before being rushed into the fight. He was them, yet also in his own thoughts. He was both within and without.

AJ glanced at his open palm. "Are you gonna take it again?" He didn't like having to part ways with it last time, despite getting it back minutes later. Louis didn't appear so aggravated this time, there were no flashes of anger in his eyes, rather what seemed to be an uncertain curiosity.

"No, I just wanna see it for a second," The weapon was gently placed in his hand, immediately sending shivers along his long arm. His fingers trembled over the trigger guard, it was clear to AJ that the man who stood before him was unsettled beyond belief. "How do you hold it?"

"Clem told me that you gotta keep it in both of your hands," AJ squished Louis's cold hands together, sandwiching the gun between them. "She also told me to not be afraid of it, it's just a thing, but I don't really know what that means."

Just a thing? Louis felt as if the souls whose lives had been taken by the bullets it once held were within his grasp. The kill count couldn’t have been that high, AJ was only a child, had he killed other people before?

"Louis, what's wrong?"

He snapped his eyes shut and woke himself back up to reality, where AJ was gazing up at him intently. "Sorry little dude, I've just never held a gun before, feels weird." He had also never taken a life before, walkers didn't count to him. Their lives consisted of eating, eating and eating some more. They rot away with the earth and leave behind more death than before.

"You have your chair leg though, that's your weapon." It was a pretty cool weapon the kid had to admit, whenever the broken bit of furniture was hooked over Louis's shoulder he looked like one of those superheroes Clementine used to tell him about before bed.

Louis definitely felt safer with his chair leg by his side. "Good ol' Chairles, I think I prefer him to your gun here," He brought it closer to his face, his eyes running down the barrel. "Is this how you aim?"

AJ got up onto his tiptoes to get a closer look. "You gotta look down the top, through the notch. The monster should be lined up with it."

Louis aimed for the portrait of the headmaster above the mantle, he lined up the old man's head with the very tip of the barrel. The constant tremble in his hands made it immensely difficult to keep his target on lockdown. "This is harder than it looks, hey imagine if it shot out paintballs instead." He tried to lighten the situation as best he could, ignoring the heavyweight that was settling in his gut.

"You gotta take a deep breath right before you shoot, that's what Clem does and she never misses," AJ giggled at how deeply Louis inhaled, his cheeks inflating like a balloon. "Not that deep."

He quickly lowered the gun, letting it hang powerless beside him. "Well then, safe to say that I suck at this, class dismissed." Perfect timing too as he could see none other than Clementine striding over to him, her little talk with Willy and Tenn had come to a close. She was beaming with newfound hope and joy, a rare sight for little AJ.

"You enjoying the party?" She asked, her feet were tapping along to the addictive jazz music flowing all around. It was hard not to join in.

Louis feigned a smile. "Yeah, I am especially enjoying the lighting, if you couldn't tell green is my favourite colour, Ruby's too," He pulled at his tatted shirt, it was his favourite. Then again it was the only shirt he had. "What's your favourite colour?" He had predicted it to be red, it certainly suited her. Louis knew he shouldn't find the idea of Clementine beating the shit out of a walker so alluring but he couldn't help his young and naive mind from enjoying it. She was overly capable, something he had never been granted the luxury of knowing.

She leaned against the piano, her mind trying to find a reason as to why Louis was holding AJ's gun. "Definitely yellow," Of course, the girl who radiates sunshine loves the colour of the sun, it practically spilt out of her. "Why do you have his gun?"

It was unsuiting of him, many a time had he expressed a distaste for the weapon. He clearly had no idea how to properly hold one, it hung loosely in his grip as if it was set to release from any sudden motion. "Oh, I was just curious about how it worked, never held one of these before." Louis gave the gun back to an overeager AJ, who immediately put it back into his back pocket where it belongs.

She noticed how timid he seemed, any shift in his usual upbeat character never slipped past her. "You alright?" His shoulders fell back down to a casual stance once he was rid of the gun, something was clearly amiss.

"Yeah, I just," Louis let his eyes fall onto AJ, who had wandered off over to Tenn, Willy and now Rosie. How could he not feel so jagged as to always be carrying that...thing. It weighed himself down after only holding it for a couple of minutes. "It's just heavier than I thought it would be."

Clementine moved in closer, having pined Louis into a corner. "No, there's more to it than that. You can tell me anything." She wanted to take his hand in her own and let him know that it was okay, she wanted to wrap him up in a hug so tight his brain would pop and release all his fears. Instead, she kept eye contact with him, listening to him and him alone.

She really was intuitive, no page left unturned. "What if I have to kill someone, Clem?" It was a question that struck them both down, reminding them of how serious this mission would be and the stakes that had been set. "I don't want to do that, I can't do that. You saw me with Abel, I couldn't even hurt him even though he deserved it." Having Abel at his mercy wasn't enough, the mere thought of him being part of the reason why some of his closest friends were taken wasn't enough. Slices of his mind felt weak, inferior to the tot beside him who was so willing to hurt the man bound in tape.

"Louis, you don't have to kill anyone if you don't want to," He reminded her a toddler caught in the dark, no sign of light with no idea if anyone would come and save them. "We're just going to get our friends, focus on that."

Oh, how he wanted to. How he wanted to remember that Violet was out there, stirring in her cell alone, how Aasim and Omar would be forced to undergo who knows what kind of torture to turn them into soldiers. But all he could think of was the notion of a body falling to the ground, lifeless and him being the catalyst. "I know Violet would do it for me, I don't know why I can't be strong like her." His head hung low, dreads covering his face. It shielded Clementine from witnessing how pained he was, yet she heard it all within his tone.

Was his faith within himself and his actions that lacklustre? "You are strong, not wanting to kill someone doesn't mean you're weak. Just because Violet would do it doesn't mean you must, just being there to save everyone will surely be enough," She took the plunge and carefully intertwined their fingers, smirking at his innocent gasp. "Louis, everything will be fine. You won't have to kill anyone."

He ran his thumb over her knuckles, counting all the loose scars and rough marks forged by years of fighting. His own fingers had callouses from having once played with a guitar in his youth. Two different marks, created from their very different walks of life. Louis looked up at her and felt her contagious smile, he couldn't help but grin alongside her. There it was, her inner sunshine bleeding through.

"I hope so Clem."

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdgs4 #clementine twdg #the walking dead game season four #twdg louis #louisentine #clouis #fanfiction #xscullyx

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hazzasgayvodka · 5 years

Text

14 * DREAM * 14

Impact: Chapter 14

Chapter title song: Dream - Bishop Briggs

HARRY

I wake up even more intertwined with her than usual. She's breathing softly, blowing the wisps of hair in front of her face repeatedly. I tuck them behind her ear gently and she stirs in her sleep, scrunching her nose.

"Stop it, let me sleep." She whines, cuddling back into my chest, moving herself so she's now laying completely on top of me between my legs.

I grab the comforter and pull it up over both of us, tucking it around her to make sure she's warm. I rest my arms around her back and hold her to me, remembering as I pull down the hem of her sweatshirt that she chose to sleep in my clothes last night.

I smile to myself as my phone dings on the nightstand next to her. I reach for it the best I can without moving her and come up short just as it dings another two times. She groans as she rolls over and grabs it herself, rubbing her eyes as she reads through the messages.

Her blissful smile is replaced with furrowed eyebrows in a matter of seconds and suddenly my stomach is in my throat. I reach for my phone from her hand but she pulls away, continuing to read through my messages.

"Jess," I huff, "Come on."

"Why the hell is Ashlyn texting you and asking why she didn't wake up next to you? Were you with her last night?" She asks curiously, holding my phone just out of reach.

"I, yeah, she um, she texted me after work," I stutter, trying to remember where I told her I was yesterday, "But after I went over there I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be here."

She seems to entertain my explanation for a second before the angry look in her eye returns and she throws my phone at me, getting up from the bed.

"Jess, come on!" I reason with her, following her outside, "You just went out on a date with Miles like two days ago!"

"I didn't sleep with him and then leave to go cuddle with another guy!" She shouts.

Suddenly I realize that she's not mad that I went to Ashlyn's house, she's mad that I left Ashlyn and came here.

"Jess-" I begin, trying to think of what I can say to make this better.

"No!" She shouts, shoving the bathroom door between us, "I'm not going to be your sloppy seconds, Styles!"

I can't believe the words as they come out of her mouth with tears brimming in her eyes. Sloppy seconds? Jess? Is that what she thinks she is? She's untouchable, unfathomable. She's too good to even be on my leaderboard, let alone rank second.

"Jess, is that honestly what you-"

"Just go away, Harry." She sniffles.

I hear the screech of the shower start and the sounds of her crying get louder. She must think I can't hear it over the pipes but I can, loud and clear. It's only Niall calling my name from the kitchen that stops me from barging in and kissing her dumb crying face.

"Harry? You work today?" He asks, flipping pancakes on the stove.

"Yeah," I shrug, taking a seat on a barstool, "pancakes on Thursday?"

"Felt like diabetes for breakfast." He says plainly causing me to laugh.

I get up from my seat and pour a cup of coffee as Louis and Sam appear around the corner from his room already giggling with each other.

"I think it's about time they fix the heat already, I'm sick of you two." Niall chuckles, throwing a pancake at them.

Sam catches it in her free hand that isn't wrapped around Louis and takes a bite as she strolls into the kitchen. Louis grabs two mugs and pours them both a cup of coffee.

"Needs syrup." Sam quips, adding the half-eaten pancake to a stack of two others and drowning them in syrup and whipped cream.

She seems content with herself as she grabs a fork and sits on a barstool, shoving her mouth with pancakes and thanking Louis when he brings her a cup of coffee.

"So," She says through a mouth of pancake, "where were you in the wee hours of the night?" She smirks, pointing her fork at me.

I look over to the bathroom to make sure Jess is still inside before turning back to her, "Ashlyn's."

"You were right, Louis." She sighs, taking out her wallet and handing him a ten-dollar bill.

I look between them both incredulously, "You guys bet on where I was?"

"Yeah, Louis said Ashlyn's and I said you were over her, I thought you finally went home with that blonde at the shop that keeps requesting you for thigh tattoos."

The bathroom door swings open just as Sam stuffs another piece of pancake in her mouth and I hope it keeps her fucking mouth shut while Jess is able to hear our conversation. I nearly drop my cup of coffee and rush over to her before she goes in my bedroom.

"Jess, listen, we need to-"

"It's fine," She sighs, cutting me off, "don't worry about it."

"Jess, come on-"

"We're fine, it's over, it happened," She quips, not meeting my eyes, "can I please grab my makeup bag?"

I move out of the way and watch as she trudges her feet inside and drops my hoodie and sweatpants in the dirty clothes. She grabs her black and white makeup bag before walking past me again and back into the bathroom.

I walk back into the kitchen to a lot of blank stares directed at me. I grab my coffee and finish it in three gulps, tossing the mug into the sink and watching it split in half.

"Shows over guys!" I shout, storming out of the kitchen and back to my bedroom, leaving them all staring at each other in silence.

I hear the bathroom door open finally when I'm lying on top of my perfectly made bed. I jump up hoping to catch her before she goes somewhere but she bumps right into me when I open the door. She looks up at me, finally meeting my eyes before shaking her head and shoving past me.

"What time do you want to leave for work?" I ask, hoping that she'll actually talk to me if I change the subject.

"I'm gonna go grab a coffee and I'll meet you there." She says plainly, tossing her makeup bag back into her suitcase.

"Who's driving you?"

"No one. I'm walking."

I wish she would just yell at me. This monotonous, robotic tone is scaring me more than any amount of shouting and shoving me.

"Jessica," I huff, rolling my eyes, "It's fucking freezing outside and you didn't bring any proper jackets."

"Then I'll fucking freeze, Harry! What do you care?" She shouts, finally back to herself.

"Please just let me drive you." I groan, following her about the room as she looks for her shoes no doubt.

I see them sat in the corner and grab them, turning around to give them to her but she snatches them out of my hands before I get the chance.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking a few blocks to get a coffee." She huffs, rolling her eyes and I can't believe I'm happy to hear her annoyed tone of voice.

"Okay, can I pick you up from there? Lexington is a long walk-"

"I could use a long walk." She sighs, standing from the edge of my bed with her boots on her feet and her purse on her shoulder.

She pushes past me and shoves my door open with me hopelessly following her to the door with a jacket in my hands.

"At least put on a jacket." I reason with her, eyeing the short length of her dress and refusing to let my mind wander where it wants to.

She meets my eyes, still looking up at me despite the large heel on her boot before sighing and taking the jacket from my hands. She shoves her purse in my hands as she slides her arms through each sleeve and tugs it close to her.

"There, better?" She huffs, snatching her purse back from my hands and storming out the door.

"Will you at least text me when you get there so I know you didn't get kidnapped?" I call after her.

"Hm, I think I'll be back around four in the morning? That sound right? You can worry until then." She smirks, knowing she won this one as she continues walking down the sidewalk.

I close the door, letting my head rest against it as I collect my thoughts before turning back to the lovely audience who are still sat with their jaws hitting the countertop.

"What the fuck did you do?" Niall asks, true confusion taking over his face.

I huff, rolling my eyes as I shove the door open, grabbing my jacket off the hook by the door and slamming the door behind me. I want to be anywhere but here and everywhere that she is. I know she needs time, what I did was shitty but how can she be this way when she does the same thing to me with Miles? The longer I sit in my car unsure of where I want to go, I realize where I need to go. I punch the steering wheel, starting the car and peeling out in anger when I realize that she was right, and I just let her walk right out the door.

JESS

As soon as I'm out of his apartment I feel like I can breathe again. He's suffocating sometimes, and I needed out. Once I'm walking I'm shivering and cursing him for once again being right. I tug his leather jacket closer to my body and wondering what the hell I was thinking wearing this tiny dress with tights and heels.

I almost turn around until Ashlyn's stupid racoon face pops into my head. How could he sleep with her and then get up and leave to come home to me? He came in with tear streaks down his face and begged me to let him hold me, what a show. I can't believe I fell for his ruse that easily just so he could get a contact high from me sleeping on him.

I despise his smell lingering on his jacket, but it keeps me going, wanting to prove him wrong. I reach the Starbucks later than I thought I would but the all-encompassing feeling of telling him off has me smiling as I walk inside with my teeth chattering.

I see Miles in line as soon as I walk in and a flood of relief hits me. I excuse myself to stand next to him in line and he turns to me with a giant grin.

"Hey!" He smiles, leaning in to grab me in a hug.

I hold on to him a little longer than usual, basking in his warmth. He pulls away and presses his hand against my cheek, gasping.

"Jess, you're frozen!" He laughs, pulling me back to him and tucking me under his arm.

"I walked here." I shrug.

"Walked? Why? Harry wouldn't drive you?" He asks seriously.

"No, I just, I needed a walk, I'm okay, really," I assure him, hugging him back as a thought comes to mind, "but you could help me with something else."

"Shoot." He quips, shuffling forward in line.

"Okay two things, will you drive me to work and also can we hang out tonight?" I ask, my words coming out fast.

He looks at me with a smile, shaking his head, "Of course, where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere but Casa De Styles." I smile, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

HARRY

I pull into the parking lot with a screaming mind of thoughts. I shut off the radio and sit in silence, letting the ringing drown out my head before I step out of the car. The cold air hits me like a shit ton of bricks and I'm instantly worried about her walking through town in this weather.

I walk up to her door and knock, folding my arms tightly against my chest, hoping that she doesn't leave me standing out here too long.

She opens the door, standing behind it in only a tshirt and underwear. Her blonde hair looks like it hasn't been washed in a week and her eyeliner is probably just as old.

"You left this morning." She says, no emotion in her voice.

"Yeah, but that's not what we're going to talk about." I huff, shoving past her and into the warm room.

She looks at me quizzically and every part of me wishes I just texted her this but Jess would be even more pissed if I went about this on the phone.

"We're not a thing, I um, fuck, we can't do this anymore, just don't call me anymore and don't come to my fights because I'm telling Mack not to let you in." I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"What?" She gasps, taking a step towards me and grabbing my arms.

"No, no we're not doing this," I huff, shrugging her off, "lose my number, there's plenty of fish in the sea."

I push past her to get out of her room wondering if she looks better in the lights of the boxing ring or if I really was just that desperate last night.

"What happened to 'you're the best I've ever had, dollface'?" She mocks, rolling her eyes.

"Turns out I was wrong," I shrug, "actually, I always knew I was wrong, I say that to everyone, and you were never a dollface. That was another mistake."

Her mouth drops open and I wonder if I went too far. She slams the door in my face and I walk to my car, collapsing into my seat and letting out a breath of relief. I take out my phone to see a text from Jess.

I made it.

It's only three words but a weight is lifted off my chest when I realize that she got to the coffee shop without any trouble. I'm sure she's frozen to the bone and every part of me wants to stop by and pick her up but I know she'll just yell and fight with me again.

I make my way to work, deciding to get there uncharacteristically early. As soon as I pull my car into my parking spot I see Lex through the glass doors. I step out of my car and grab the suit in the backseat from yesterday when I told Jess I was going to work. Turned out handy after all.

I slip my legs through the pants and throw the jacket on over my black tshirt hoping that no one pays me too much attention and I can finish changing in my office. I shove my dress shirt into my bag and walk through the front doors, hustling to clock in and then jump on the elevator before anyone can grab me for a chat.

I nearly jog to my office once off the elevator but just before I turn the corner I hear Lex's voice.

"Have you got a stellar presentation planned for tomorrow?" He asks.

I stop dead in my tracks, turning around with a grimace. He eyes my outfit with a quirked eyebrow, especially the black converse on my feet.

"Yeah, gonna blow you away," I mock, rolling my eyes, "now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go finish changing in my office."

I walk away quickly, slipping into my office and cursing myself when I realize the door doesn't have a lock. I toss my jacket onto my chair and stretch my tshirt over my head just as my door opens and her voice fills the room.

"Hey, here's your schedule-"

She cuts herself off as her eyes drift up from her folder and land on me holding my tshirt up to myself to conceal my torso from her. I can see her wandering eyes taking me in as she realizes just how many tattoos I have.

"Hey I um, I'll be ready in like two sec-"

"What did you do to yourself?" She asks, taking a step forward and pointing at the huge bruise on my shoulder from Davis' hook.

The worried look in her eye catches me off guard from her emotionless demeanor this morning. Suddenly the earlier is forgotten and she's back to herself.

"Oh, just hit it getting out of the car, you know, it rides low and I'm pretty tall so-"

"You hit it pretty good," She thinks aloud, walking closer to me and I take a step back knowing that if she gets any closer she'll see it all, "Is that what I laid on last night?" She gasps.

"Yeah, it's fine, doesn't hurt that much-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Yeah, it's fine, I'll be out in like two seconds." I say, gesturing to the door and hoping to god that she leaves.

She looks at me quizzically before backing out of the room and letting the door close behind her. I let out a heavy breath of relief and finally drop my tshirt, sliding my arms through the sleeves of my button down. I unlace my converse and exchange them for a pair of dress shoes before shrugging my jacket back on my shoulders.

I walk back out into the hallway to see her sitting at her desk, deep in thought. I say her name twice before she turns back towards me, her worried eyes gone and replaced with her angry face from this morning.

"Alright, so schedule for today?" I ask, leaning on the desk in front of her.

"Were you hiding your tattoos from me?" She asks abruptly.

"What? No-" I stutter, caught off guard by her question.

"What is it then? Don't want me to see the hickeys all over you from Ashlyn last night?"

I nearly choke on the air I breathe in when the words come out of her mouth. How does she come up with this shit? If I was half as horrible as she thinks I am, I'd show them to her on proud display.

"No, that's not it at all-" I huff, my voice raising without my volition.

"Whatever." She huffs, standing from her chair and tossing the clipboard into my lap before storming off towards the break room.

I'm left sighing and letting my head fall on my shoulders, pinching the bridge of my nose out of stress. I drop the clipboard on her desk and slam my office door behind myself, lighting a cigarette before I even have the window open. She's impossible.

There's a knock on my door a forever later. I've done absolutely nothing but sit in silence and smoke cigarettes, my back resting against my desk behind me. I don't utter a word, but they come in anyway and suddenly a body is sitting on the ground next to me. I look over to see Audrie with her head against my desk, staring at the ceiling. When she notices me staring she laughs, slumping back against the desk and meeting my eyes.

"I didn't even know you came in today."

I nod my head, breathing out a puff of smoke as I turn to look back out the window.

"The office is closing in twenty minutes." She sighs, reaching for the cigarette in my hand.

She takes a drag and coughs, laughing as she passes it back to me and breathes the smoke back out into the air.

"Is Jess complaining about waiting on me?" I ask, turning to her.

"She left, a while ago actually."

I sit upright, my cigarette still dangling from my lips as I shuffle to stand up despite my legs being completely numb.

"A while ago? Like how long? I was supposed to drive her home." I ramble, throwing my jacket on and grabbing my phone hoping to see a text from her.

The only text that pops up is from Sam and it makes my chest cavity compress.

They fixed the heat. Packing now.

"No, no, no, no." I huff, scrambling to grab my bag and my keys and get to the elevator.

I press the button fifteen times before the doors finally drag open and I'm able to step on and hit the button for the first floor. I curse the elevator for being so slow and my car for taking so long to warm up and the universe for snowing and being so damn cold.

Everything seems so miniscule now, all of the fighting and bickering and shouting. Knowing that last night was the last night I had to hold her in my arms and I threw half of it away to shag Ashlyn makes me feel sick. Knowing that I'm damned to never sleep through a full night again makes me wish I appreciated it more.

I take out my phone as I drive, dialing Niall's number as fast as my fingers will move. He picks up on the second ring and I can hear the TV playing in the background.

"Niall, is Jess there? Did she come home already?" I ask eagerly.

"No, haven't heard from her. Me, Sam, and Louis are watching a movie." He says plainly.

"Will you text me when she gets there?" I ask, my mind already concocting scenarios of where she is.

"Sure, will you run by the store on your way home? We need cereal, good stuff not cheerios please. Oh, and beer, we only have your Corona left." He thinks aloud and I can hear him opening the fridge in the background.

"Fine, whatever." I huff, rolling my eyes as I make a U-turn and hang up.

I pull into a parking space at the store and hurry inside as the snow starts to fall again. I rush to the beer aisle and grab a pack of Coors, tossing it into the basket in my other hand before making my way back up to the cereal aisle.

On the way there I pass a display for mango sherbet shampoo and conditioner. It comes in a bright pink bottle and when I hold it to my nose and smell it, it reminds me of her fruity Chapstick. I let out a sigh as I grab both bottles and shove them into the basket too. I pass a row of socks and once again her face pops into my head, but I know that I'd rather her continue stealing all of mine.

I grab a box of cocoa pebbles off the shelf and stuff that in the rather full basket as well before passing a box of fruit loops and hearing her voice in my head. I sigh, glaring at the fruit loops before shoving them in the basket and deciding to get the hell out of here before I buy the whole place out.

When I drop my basket on the checkout line the cashier eyes me warily as he takes out the mango shampoo and rings it up.

"I have a girl staying with me." I say, wondering why on earth I feel the need to justify myself.

"Right." He smirks, bagging all of my stuff as I swipe my card and take my receipt.

"Asshole." I mutter as I take my bags and leave out the door and straight into a snow flurry.

I groan, walking fast to my car and tossing all of the bags in the backseat. I collapse into my chair and start the car, turning the heat on full blast and peeling out of the parking lot. Why am I buying her all of this anyways? She's leaving tonight. They're packing right now. But what if she doesn't? What if she stays?

"Who am I kidding?" I huff, getting out of my car as I pull in front of my apartment and grab all of my bags.

I shove my way through the front door, my chest heaving as I drop the bags on the counter and my body starts to defrost in the warmth of inside.

"Where's Jess?" I ask into the living room where Niall and Sam are sat watching a movie.

"I thought she was with you." Sam says, turning around to face me from the couch.

"What? No, she's mad at me, she's still not home?" I say, the worry in my chest growing.

Sam looks at me blankly and I curse her under my breath before walking to my bedroom and pushing the door open hoping to see her sitting on my bed. The room is empty, my bed still perfectly made. I shove back into the hallway and check the bathroom and hell, even Niall's room.

I walk back through the living room and out the front door to see if I can spot her walking down the sidewalk. I go all the way around the side of the apartment to see if she's coming from around the corner but she's nowhere to be found. However, I do spot the hose lying out on the side of the house and judging by the snow that's falling now, it'll be a foot under the ice by tomorrow. I start to wind it up as I take my phone out to call her just as a silver sedan comes around the bend and parks right beside my car.

None other than Miles gets out, running around to the passenger side to grab her door and help her out, walking her to the door with his jacket over her shoulders. She smiles when he puts his arm around her and politely returns his jacket just as he leans in and presses his lips to hers. Before they've even separated their lips, I've turned on the hose and sprayed it in their direction, soaking them to their underwear.

I wind up the last of the hose and walk back to the house, Jess just catching sight of me before I slip inside.

"Are you fucking insane? It's thirty degrees out here!" She screams, following me into the house.

"Are you crazy not telling anyone where you're going?" I shout back, slamming the door behind her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we agreed on not delving into each other's personal lives!" She mocks, shoving my jacket off her shoulders and dropping it on the floor.

"Don't you pull this shit, this doesn't count, and you know it, you just disappeared! You said you were walking and it was snowing, I was worried sick!"

"I'm twenty-one years old, Harry! I'm allowed to walk to work if I want!" She huffs, dropping her purse on the counter.

I slam my hand down on the counter and turn around to meet her challenging eyes, surely the audience is enjoying this one.

"I drove around in circles at the office in case you hadn't gotten far!"

"Well I'm glad I did because I got to go out with Miles, an actual gentleman who puts me first!"

"Oh, whatever, Jessica, that isn't what this is about." I groan.

"Yes, it is! Just admit that this is because you don't like Miles for some reason and you're being a little bitch about it!"

"That's not it at all, Jess!" I shout, grabbing the grocery bags of shit I bought for her and shoving it in her arms, "Here, I bought you this, your heating's fixed, just pack your shit and go home, you don't ever have to see me again!"

I push past her to my bedroom and slam the door behind me wishing she would just get it over and leave already. I wish Miles would come whisk her away. As soon as the thought of them together surfaces in my mind I feel sick. I collapse on my bed at the same time that she opens the door carefully, her demeanor completely different. She tiptoes over to me, the air between us fragile as she takes a seat next to me on the bed.

"So that's it," She says quietly, "the heating's fixed."

"Yup," I quip, pinching the bridge of my nose, "last night was our last night and I totally fucked it up."

"You don't want me to go."

I can tell she meant for it to be a question, but it doesn't have to be, she knows.

"I shouldn't have sprayed you with the hose." I think aloud, not wanting to respond to her previous statement.

She laughs, and I find myself taken aback as her eyes dart to her shoes and she runs her hands through her soaking hair.

"Why did you have to wait till the last night to buy me real shampoo, Styles?" She chuckles, looking back up to meet my eyes.

"I don't know," I laugh, trying to fill the crushing air between us, "I couldn't think of another way to make you stay."

My voice trails off when I realize how dumb I must sound. She doesn't want to stay, she hates it here. I've heard her complain to Miles and everyone else. She hates it, she hates me.

"I just feel like everything went wrong." I sigh.

"It did," She agrees, grabbing my arm and wrapping it around her, "I can't stay here forever though."

She's right, she can't. I don't deserve a forever of rest-filled nights and waking up to her in the light of the morning. But maybe, I deserve a few weeks.

"How about two weeks?" I ask, the words tumbling from my mouth before I can catch them.

"Two weeks?" She asks curiously.

"Yeah, we deserve a do over, this week was shit, and I just bought you fruit loops, what the hell am I supposed to do with an entire box of rainbow diabetes."

She laughs, really laughs. The awkward air is gone, it's just us being us. She leans into me and lets her head rest against my chest, my arm still holding her to me.

"I don't know, Harry-"

"Wait, I've got it," I perk up, cutting her off, "the presentation, I know there's already a lot riding on that but what if there was one more incentive?"

She sits up from me, meeting my eyes with her own narrowed wondering what kind of game I'm playing with her now.

"I'm listening."

"If I win the presentation, you have to stay here for another two weeks," I say confidently, "not including tonight which you are required to stay regardless."

She rolls her eyes with a laugh and nods, "Okay, what if I win?"

"I don't know, what do you want from me?" I shrug.

Suddenly her face lights up and I'm nervous, there's a devious look in her eye, "I want you to be my assistant, for two weeks, I get your office and everything."

"Jess, come on-"

"That's the only way I'm agreeing to this. Either I'm Ms. Lawson to you for two weeks or there's a 100% chance you'll be sleeping alone."

She's smirking at me, she already knows she won. She has nothing to lose while I have everything. I let out a sigh and grab her outstretched hand, shaking it.

"Fine, you've got a deal, dollface."

She smiles at my nickname for her and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me. It catches me off guard at first, but I wrap my arms around her too and embrace the smell of her perfume surrounding me.

"Can we go to sleep now?" She mutters, yawning as she pulls away from me.

"Most definitely." I sigh, watching as she gets up from the bed and grabs one of my hoodies out of my closet and a pair of sweatpants from my dresser.

She carries them with her out to the bathroom and I hear the faucet running as she brushes her teeth. I quickly strip out of my dress pants and shirt and throw a tshirt on over my head before collapsing onto the bed. It feels like an eternity before she comes back in, dressed in my clothes, her teeth chattering.

"Are you cold?" I ask her as she climbs into bed.

"I won't be in five minutes," She sniffles, sliding under the covers and wrapping her arms around my waist, "you're like a walking space heater, Styles."

I laugh, wrapping my arms around her and letting her snuggle into my chest. Her breathing is slowing in seconds and before I know it she's sound asleep on top of me. I know I shouldn't let her do this after she fought with me all day over Ashlyn, I shouldn't let her kiss Miles on my doorstep and fall asleep in my arms only an hour later but if this does end up being her last night here and I denied her, I'd never forgive myself knowing I'd never get the chance to sleep soundly again.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction smut

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msawesomeworld · 5 years

Text

Royalty Not Loyalty Chapter 15

A/N: Look at me, posting updates and stuff. I have also been editing some of my old stuff. And I gonna continue writing this to hopefully actually finish it. I hope you like it and please tell me if you do.

Read the previous chapters here.

“The things we love destroy us, lad. Remember that.”

- George R. R. Martin

Stella’s P.O.V.

I instantly got worried and started thinking if I had made a mistake. This guy was like my kryptonite. I could try to put up all of the facades I wanted, but he just managed to knock them all down.

I hated him for it. I needed to keep my position and posture, and well everything I had worked for my entire life. I was not a stupid little girl anymore, I could not just fool around. Fooling around is what got Chris killed. I had responsibility, honor and a bunch of other shitty things I needed to be.

Though when I looked over at him and he gave me that smile of his. I felt like being honest. Being myself, behind the facade of all of this pretty and perfect.

But that was a fantasy, that I simply could not come true. I would entertain him, but keep my distance. Maybe I could even convince myself that he was just playing games with me. Games I could do, those I was good at. Manipulating people into doing whatever you wanted, that I could most certainly do.

He must have noticed me planning something in my head. After a little while in silence, he put his hand in mine. For a moment I felt some strange feeling going through me. My mind went blank and for a little while all I could think was:

Well played.

We drove to the airport and I raised my eyebrows at him, he just smiled and got out and opened the door for me. The driver took our bags and he went to the desk to get our tickets. Apparently he had already booked for us.

I rolled my eyes at him trying to be a gentleman. He could try all he wanted, I knew deep down he would never be a real one.

We flew off to Hawaii I found out as we got on the plane. I sat beside him in first class and looked at him judging.

“So I am supposed to trust because you take me to Hawaii for a night? Great plan.” I said sarcastically. I almost felt patronised if he thought that I would fall for that. He looked at me concerned.

“Seriously? I am trying to do something genuinely nice here.” He said looking me in the eyes, almost laughed but it came out as a scoff.

“Please. No one in this world is genuinely nice. Do you really think I am stupid enough to think otherwise?” I asked.

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes gritting his teeth. Before he let out a breath and clearly that anger he was holding in. I almost felt bad for him, he seemed to honestly think I would have fallen for that. He just waved me off and put on his headphones. I just shrugged and put in my own. He was clearly annoyed with his plan not working. He was kind of stupid actually. I thought, still trying to convince myself that this was all a game. It had to be.

Didn't it?

__________________

We had fallen asleep on the plane, I accidentally had put my head on his shoulder. I liked how comfortable I was, but I knew it was part of that silly fantasy I had. I quickly decided I did not want to get myself hurt so I lifted my head not caring if I woke him in the process and composed myself. I made sure to check and correct any imperfections in my make up before we landed.

Once there a driver picked us up and we drove into Maui. I did love Hawaii, I had come here before with my friends and family. But I knew I could never let my guard down with Louis. So I sat up straight and starred out of the window as we drove into the country. We stopped at a beautiful beach villa. I hoped he did not expect me to be impressed. I had lived in places like this all of my life.

We walked in a I looked around, I was actually surprised to find pictures of the family hanging on the walls. They all looked so happy. Even some where they were dirty or not styled. I bit my lip suppressing the envy I felt.

I wish my family would at least accept anything less than perfect in our pictures. Or for once actually be a family and not just a legacy or heir or business. I cleared my throat and composed myself before walking onto the patio where Louis was standing and looking out at the beach. I stood beside him and crossed my arms and looked at him.

“Am I supposed to be impressed now?” I said and he looked at me, but not with the expression I had expected. He looked genuinely hurt, which I felt bad about. I mean I did like him, but he could just never know that.

“I don’t like this side of you.” He just said annoyed and I furrowed my eyebrows looking at him. He had brought me here, trying to impress me, playing me into trusting him. And he did not like me?

“I am serious Stella, you think you are so smart having everyone figured out. I know you think everyone is always trying to play you. But why on earth would I do that? I already have more money and power than I know what to do with. I am already king, what could I possibly gain from playing you?” He yelled looking at me frustrated.

I looked at him confused, I had not expected that at all. I had no idea he felt like that. I had never even thought about it. I had always just known that everyone always had an agenda. Hell even Kat was only friends with me because she would be popular. I had been so focused on all of this scheming and how he should be trying to play me, because that is what I would do. What if he actually did not want to play me, but actually cared about me?

In that case I was a serious cold hearted bitch. But that is how I was raised so I should not even be surprised.

I felt bad, and looked back up at him again. He looked at me so genuinely hurt in his eyes. He just rolled his eyes and got angry with me.

“Whatever. I am going surfing, stay here and scheme. That seems to be the only thing you’re good at.” He said angry and stormed off.

I was left alone in the sun and I looked out at the ocean sadly. I was such an idiot, such a mess honestly. I felt like a bitch, but I had no idea what to do. I had always been a bitch. I had never had to apologise for that fact before. I wanted him to know I wa sorry. I mean I had always had the thought in the back of my mind, that I should gather information to eventually blackmail him.

But now that I thought about it, I had never actually planned to gather information on him, or even use. I had not even tried to play him. And why should I? We were both in a great position of power. The others would know something was wrong if he started voting for everything I suggested. Hell if he told the others I had tried to blackmail him, I would come out as the bad guy. I was for once amongst peers who was so powerful that it would be no use to try and hurt each other.

I stood there for a while feeling sorry for myself. I needed to do something, and I knew my fake smile and fake apology would not do. I had to call for back up, so I pulled out my phone and called Skylar.

“Thank god you called. I am sick of our subjects already. What can I do for you my darling?” She asked clearly annoyed with the people around her. I chuckled imagining her bossing people around but hating them for obeying her every word.

“I fucked up. I am with Louis right now.” I said trying to figure out how to explain this to Skylar I heard a squeal on the other end of the phone.

“Yes. Get some.” She said and I laughed and shook my head at her.

“No, Sky not like that. But it turns out. I have been a bit of a bitch to him recently. Now I have never had to apologise for being a bitch before. Please help me.” I said genuinely needing her help she laughed a little on the other end and I almost got annoyed at myself for calling her.

“I got you sweetie. Men are easy to please. Here is what you do. You take that present I put in your suitcase, put that on with some cute underwear. And voila, Lou will be wrapped around your little finger.” She said and I raised my eyebrows just annoyed with her.

“I said help me say sorry to him, not seduce him Sky. I am calling Vic. I need someone sane too.” I said annoyed she just chuckled and told me to keep her on the line.

We called up our voice of reason and she was actually helpful sending me some e-mails to help me. I thanked them both immensely before saying goodbye.

“You’re welcome. Besides I need to plan a party at my sorority soon so I am gonna need you to owe me a favour.” Victoria said and I chuckled, Skylar butting in saying that she should have thought of that.

“Oh and I know my plan will totally work, but just in case. Do wear what Skylar left you. Being slutty dressed always helps men forgive us.” She said and I rolled my eyes at the both of them.

“I hate both of you. Now bye, I have work to do.” I said before hanging up on them.

I chuckled and shook my head for moment. I turned back to the beach and stared out at the view. I saw Louis surfing. He looked amazing out there, so controlled yet relaxed. I wished I could surf, but sadly I had work to do.

I walked back inside and got to work. When I was finished it was a complete mess, but I hoped that the gesture would be enough. If not I sighed before grabbing my suitcase, I would wear Skylar’s dress just in case.

I finally found the bag that did not belong to me in the suitcase and pulled out the dress. I smiled as I folded out. It was surprisingly moderate considering what Skylar sometimes would wear. It seemed like she had actually taken into consideration what I liked. It was a pink nude, decorated with white gold flowers. It was tight in all of the right places, and showed more cleavage than I normally would, and much shorter than what I normally wore. However I could appreciate that it was not as slutty as it could have been, knowing Skylar. And once I wore it I did appreciate how pretty it was. The loose skirt curved my hips nicely. I put on some simple jewellery and went downstairs again and waited for Louis. I had heard him come in and was in the shower. He finally came out just dressed in a smart shirt and shorts. He looked at my annoyed as our eyes met. But I did see him admire my dress for a moment, before meeting my eyes and getting annoyed with the person wearing it.

I took a deep breath and tried to gather up my courage to talk to him but he beat me to it.

“You think looking pretty is gonna make up for you being a bitch?” He asked me annoyed walking away from me, I followed him still nervous about all of this. I was not at all used to airing my feelings at all.

“No, look Louis. It was just part of-“ I got out but he stopped and turned around cutting me off.

“I don’t care. Okay Stella? I don’t want to hear you lie or see your fake smile again. You are immature, selfish, conceited as hell. And I know how fucked up this world can be, but the fact that you are so unwilling to let anyone under that terribly perfect facade of yours. It is honestly a little sad. That you are so stuck up into this world, that you can’t even comprehend not being perfect all the time. It is sickening. And honestly, if you can’t even trust someone who tries to genuinely help you, then it’s pathetic.” He yelled and I knew I needed to apologise to him, and that I had hurt him. But I was not gonna let him talk to me like that.

“Look Louis, I am sorry. I was raised like this, and I know that that is not an excuse. But I can’t help that my old habits die hard. So yes, I am a bitch, and the queen of all bitches, and clawed my way to that titel in heels. But you are not perfect yourself. You are careless, impulsive and you have no regard for the future or consequences. So yes, I try to be perfect all of the time. Because I know I can never truly do what I want. And I am jealous that you get to do whatever you want. But when I let loose and let people in, they get hurt. So get off your damn high horse.” I yelled back at him he glared at me getting angrier as I said these things. I knew I should probably be apologising to him, but I let my feelings get the best of me. He wanted me to not fake a smile, well I was angry, so that I what he was getting.

“Oh yeah, I am so privileged just because my parents don’t control every aspect of my life. And yes I might be careless and impulsive, but at least I don’t think that everyone is out for my titel. That everything is fucking game! Because it is not. No one is trying to take your crown from you, when are you going to realise that? This is important yes, but if we only do a good job it is not gonna be the end of the world. We are all still going to be CEO’s of successful companies that our parents created for us. I am honestly just glad to see that the queen bitch actually has feelings.” He said in such a way I was actually taken aback a little. I had been yelled at before, but I had never had someone tell me something this coldly before.

“I am gonna leave your highness. Have fun ruling the kingdoms. Because I am done trying to get you to live a little.” He yelled gathering his feelings again.

He said those things and walked away leaving me standing there, stunned and hurt and alone.

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fic #louis tomlinson au #louis tomlinson au meme #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson fanfics #Louis tomlinson au fanfic #louis tomlinson au fic #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson imagines #louis tomlinson one shot #1d #1d au #1d au fanfic #1d imagine

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hbwbyniall · 6 years

Note

"Wanna go out sometime?" i'm in need of some narry fluff

Niall isnot a fan of coffee, he prefers tea too be honest. But when you only had fourhours of sleep before a very important midterm for his Economy class, he neededsomething to recharge and act like a person and be able to write the answers onthe paper.

So heenters the only coffee shop in his campus, ready to ask for a strong blackcoffee and leave immediately after so that he could read his notes for one lasttime. But all that goes to trash when he sees the new barista.

He is oneof the most – if not the most –beautiful man Niall has ever seen. He can already feel his heartbeat rising andhis hands getting sweaty, which is ridiculous because Niall is not sixteenanymore and he knows how to behave like an adult. Well, maybe not this early inthe morning and the fact that this guy is smiling so big that his dimples were being shown off madeit worse. And when hewelcomes him into the store, it makes everything ten times harder.

Niall waslost in his green eyes for way too long because the barista clears his throatand asked for his order, again. Niallmumbles ‘something with coffee’ making the barista laugh and it’s like Niall isnot tired anymore. It’s like he has all the energy in the world to climb theEverest up and down. He feels like a smile starts growing on his face too.

“What’syour name?” the barista asks.

Niall readshis name on the little plaque pinned to his shirt. Harry. Of course that’s his name. It goes perfectly with the curlsstarting to grow in his hair, those pink lips and that chiseled jaw. But for noapparent reason, Niall starts to panic.

“Adam Smith,”After the name came out of his mouth and everything related with the Wealth of Nations starts to pile up inhis head starting to cause him a migraine, he feels his face heating up andhe’s sure he’s turning red.

Niall endsup holding a caramel macchiato, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

Besides thefact that Niall doesn’t really like coffee, what he dislikes the most is coldcoffee. It’s like tea, they’re meant be to drunk hot, that’s a thing. But sincethe disastrousfirst attempt to talkto this Harry guy, he started to go to the coffee shop three times a week. Even if it was only to orderdrinks he will be giving to Eleanor later and mumbling names that aren’t his.So far he’s been James – which was pretty close the second time he went butHarry said he didn’t look like aJames –, John, Ashton, Will, René, Steve, Mike, Francis or even Bobby.

Louisrealized the situation shortly after the fourth free drink he gave to Eleanor,so he decided to go with him next time, because what could possibly go wrong? It’s Louis! The guy is just asdiscreet as a pink dress in a funeral.

It doesn’tmatter how many times Niall has begged, or promised to do the laundry, clean upLouis’ part of the apartment, cook Saturdays and Sundays or even write hisessays. Louis won’t give up and Niall can’t escape when Louis grabbed by hisjacket.

The doorbellrings when they step into the coffee shop and Harry is already smiling and lookinggorgeous. Niall tries to turn around and leave the place but Louis forces himto walk, smiling just as big as Harry. Deathwould be kinder.

“Hey you!What would you have today?” Harrychirps, standing behind the register.

“Ehm” Niallpretends to look at the board over Harry’s head but he doesn’t really wantanything. “Just a cappuccino, please.”

Harry nodsand takes a cup, pen poised ready to scribble a name. “Name?” He raises hiseyebrow, already trying to bite his smile back.

Niall wantsto disappear because Louis is also looking at him, waiting. Niall panics,again. So he does the only thing he thinks that could save him, he looks down athis shirt. “Bruce.”

And nowLouis is laughing, really loudly andNiall is sure his right ear is permanently damaged from it. Harry smiles, but there’ssomething in his eyes that Niall can’t place, maybe disappointment?

“And whatis your favorite song, Mr. Springsteen?” Harry says writing the name in thecup.

It almostfeels like he’s flirting with him, but Niall has noticed these past few weeksthat Harry is charming by nature. He’s always smiling and giving complimentswhich gives him the best tips, and Niall understands. It makes him a little jealousbut he gets it. It’s just the way he is, it’s the way he talks to him, the wayhe looks at him. And there are times he thinks he catches him looking at hislips, or blushing or laughing at something that Niall said, but he can never besure.

So Niallopens his mouth to answer because this is something he can do, talk aboutmusic. But before he can pour his heart to Harry and talk about how he just sawhim in concert two months ago, or the afternoons with his dad listen to hisvinyls when he was six or how sick is this vintage store he found last week iswith all these band shirts, Louis starts talking so fast that he didn’t see itcoming, “Oh, he does a killer Dancing InThe Dark in karaoke, with the moves and all.”

Niall knowshe’s blushing, and he hates it.

“Well, Ithink I need to see that,” Harry is looking at him, smiling before he goes tomake his drink.

Niall turnsto Louis, whose eyebrows are raised and that arrogant expression is all overhis face, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Oh shutup! The guy is totally into you, he’s been smiling the whole time since youwalk in!”

Niall biteshis bottom lip, but when he looks where Harry is standing making the coffee, agirl is next to him, a beautiful co-worker who’s dragging his finger in hisarm, laughing at something he says.

“Yeah,totally into me.” Niall grumbles.

When Harrycomes back with the coffee, Niall takes the cup with a mumbled thanks before leaving Louis to pay for the drink. It’s theleast thing he can do after giving his girlfriend three months of free drinks.

Niall knowshe’s been childish. And he’s punishing no one but himself this last week, buthe can’t seem to go back to the coffee shop after that. Maybe it was the factthat he made a fool of himself in front of Louis or how he hatesthe feeling of hisheart dropping to his stomach. However, he can’t hide anymore. Not when his study group wants to gothe damn coffee shop to talk about the final project instead of the library.

Maybe he’llget lucky, maybe Harry called in sick this morning or today is his day off sohe won’t have to see his beautiful face and become a mumbling mess again. Butthe truth is, he kind of misses Harry. Especially when he’s been the only thingon his mind for the last week.

He sighswhen he walks in, and of course Harry’s there, wearing that white shirt and hisred apron with a smile on his face that slowly vanishes the moment he sees Niall.

“Hey, it’sbeen a while,” Harry says, trying to look him in the eyes.

Niall nods,pressing his lips into a tight line, looking around the coffee shop andnoticing there’s no one from his study group there yet. He takes out his phoneto text them, trying to distract himself by doing something with his handsinstead of looking at Harry.

“What can Iget you?,” Harry tries again, getting his face a little closer to Niall and usingthat inviting tone he has to make Niall look at him.

“A blackcoffee, please.” Nialldoesn’t look up from the phone when he answers Harry.

Harry nods and clear his throat, and he’sabout to take the cup when he looks at Niall. “Louis was here the other day.”

Harry’s words make Niall takes his eyesoff his phone and look at him. The look on Niall’s face must be really funnybecause Harry starts laughing as he speaks, “Asked me if I had a girlfriend.”

He’s gonnakill him, he’s gonna murder his best friend in his sleep.

“I told himI don’t, I already like this cute boy who comes in every Monday, Wednesday and Friday who won’t give me hisname,” he says shyly.

Now Niallunderstands the reason no one is here. His dumb study group with Liam in it,the only guy in the world who would jump out of a bridge if Louis tells him to.Niall opens his mouth, not knowing what to say because he can’t get his mind tocatch up because of how fast his heartbeat is beating.

“Name?” Harry poises thesharpie over the cup.

“Wanna go out sometime?” the words split out of Niall’s mouthwithout giving it a second though.

Harrysmiles, really big, showing those dimples and biting his lips. He writes on thecup and then goes to make the drink like nothing happen, leaving Niall standingthere like an idiot with his mouth open as he is asking himself if it was toolate.

Haryreturns short after and places the cup in front of him with just a word writtenon it.

Yes.

Niallsmiles.

“I’m Niall”

“Nice tofinally meet you Niall, I’m Harry”

Special thanks to @jamesniallar and @addictingnarry as always

#sorry i took this long i was in uni #narry #niall x harry #my writing #narry fic #narry fanfiction #niall horan #harry styles #prompts #my fic #harry x niall

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tomhollandsspiderbite-blog · 7 years

Text

Caught in a Web (Ch. 3)

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spiderman x OC

Word Count: 2,103

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, shirtless Peter

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think! Also, feel free (and please do) to drop something in my ask box! Whether it be a question, comment, or a request for an imagine or something, I’d be happy to answer or write something for you! Thanks Loves!

SCARLETT

Six days and eight bloody knuckles later, I'm still not talking to Peter. I've been hanging with Spiderman and punching the punching bags in the training room, I haven't given Peter Parker much thought…

I wake up to the sound of an alarm going off, realizing that it's my alarm clock on my phone. I've stayed at the Tower for the past week, doing everything I can to avoid Peter. While I do enjoy the large, spacious Stark Tower, I miss my little apartment… And Peter. And Ned. And everything we used to do together. Getting our usual's at Delmar's after school three times a week and eating them on the roof mine and Peter's apartment building. I miss the laughs and sweet moments Peter and I shared. I miss him holding me in his arms when he rushes in because I was screaming from a nightmare.

I check my messages and realize I have one from Aunt May. And that's what broke me.

'Scarlett, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I need you to come talk to Peter. Please… Talk through your issues and make up with him. He's been mopey since you started ignoring him and it's really depressing around here. He barely eats, he sleeps a lot, he holes himself up in his room all the time and won't talk to me. All I know is what I know from Ned. Please Scarlett, I love both of you. You've been inseparable since you were little. I'm sure you can get through this problem together, right? Xoxo, May."

I love Aunt May like she's part of the family. That's why I decided to call Peter.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Peter's number (He's number 5 on speed dial). The phone rang and rang and rang… No answer.

I didn't bother to leave a voice message. I guess I'll have to wait until I get to school to talk to him.

I walk to the bathroom and take a shower, then get dressed in black skinny jeans, red converse, and a green off-the-shoulder shirt, layering a black tank and sports bra underneath. I apply some light make-up (my dad is old-fashioned and won't let me wear much. Not that I want to anyways. Just enough to hide a few blemishes). Just some skin tone evener, light blush, mascara, and a thin line of eyeliner flicking up into a small wing on my eyelids. I pull my hair into a high pony tail and slide on a few bracelets, one being the charm bracelet Peter got me for my birthday last year.

I check the clock and realize I only have 20 minutes until I have to be at school.

"Shit!" I exclaim and run downstairs to the kitchen, grab a piece of toast and an apple, and rush out the door.

As I rush out the front doors of the building, a familiar red and blue suit stands in front of me.

"Hey Spidey. Sorry, can't talk. I have to get to school." I say quickly and try to get around him.

"Let me give you a lift. I have to go to school too. Midtown, actually." He explains.

"Wait, you go to Midtown?!" I practically yell. His hand comes up and covers my mouth.

"Don't be so loud. Yes, I go to Midtown. I'm only sixteen. This whole Spiderman thing is only a… part-time thing." He says in a hushed tone.

"We'll talk more later. We're going to be late." I state and he tells me to hold on tight and we swing from roof to roof, making it to school in about seven minutes.

PETER

After Scarlett rushes inside, I change into my civilian clothes and rush to my locker to get my History textbook. But I didn't expect what I was going to see.

"Hey, Parker…" The fiery red-head said slowly.

"Scarlett…" I say, my voice just above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you… I miss you Peter. These past few weeks have been awful without you… I've been sparring with Bucky or punching a bag almost every night because I was driven crazy. I needed to get you off my mind. Sparring with the help of a friend's adventures around New York made it possible. I thought not thinking of you would make it easier to leave… But I realize now that I don't want to leave you. I just needed some time to think. I'm sorry Peter. I overreacted. I just… I just want you to tell me what's going on." She had grabbed both my hand lightly in hers as she spoke.

"Scarlett… I've missed you too." That's all I could say. I was just so happy I had my best friend back.

Taking advantage of her grip on my hands, I pull back, letting her fall into me as I wrap her in a hug. Not too long after, I feel her sobbing, her arms holding me tighter. I stroke the back of her hair, then pull away.

"Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" I look into her eyes and ask her gently.

"I've just missed you so much and was scared that you wouldn't forgive me for shutting you out…I thought I would have lost you." She explained through tears.

I hold her face in my hands and wipe away a tear with my thumb. "You will never lose me Scar. I promise."

She nods her head and reaches in for another hug. I welcome her with open arms and kiss the top of her head. "It's going to be okay. We're going to be okay." I say to myself more than her.

The tardy bell rings and we break apart. She quickly wipes away the rest of her tears and we split ways and go to class. I shoot her a quick text before I enter class.

'Meet me in your room after school. I'll tell you my secret then. X'

'Okay. Delmar's first? I haven't had a usual since I left.'

'Ha-ha, sure. Delmar's, then your place.'

I shove my phone in my pocket and enter class, mentally preparing myself for the scolding I was about to get from Mr. Hanson.

SCARLETT

I put my phone away and enter the art room, apologizing for being late. My art teacher, Mrs. Lancer, and I are somewhat close. She knows about Peter and me and how I've been living at my uncle's house in order to avoid him. She knows sometimes the traffic can be tricky so she excuses my tardiness with a smile and all she does (so the other students don't think she's favoriting people) is tell me that instead of my sketch being due tomorrow, it's due at the end of class today. No big deal, honestly. All I have to do is add some shading and it's done.

I silently work on my sketch as I listen to some smooth jazz through my earbuds which are connected to the phone my uncle Tony built. Spiderman has the same style phone I do except he has Karen and his is red and not green like mine. Pascal is programmed into my phone so everywhere I go, Pascal is with me. He talks to me sometimes through whatever system I have. But I always tune him out when I'm trying to work. He does like to take control of my playlist sometimes, just to mess with me. He'll throw in some Black Veil Brides while I'm listening to Louis Armstrong. Quite the personality, I must say. I don't mind though. He keeps me on my toes.

The bell for the end of first period rings and I turn in my drawing. It's a black and white sketch of the New York skyline from the top of Stark Tower. I got inspiration from one of the many times Spiderman took me up there to see the sunset. The time when I was living at the tower and we stayed up on the roof for about three hours just talking. He put his arm around me and I rested my head on his chest and we lied down, gazing up at the stars until I was interrupted by a text from my dad telling me to get home and go to sleep.

The school day is finally over and I get a text from Peter.

'Hey, go ahead and get Delmar's without me. I'll me you at your apartment at 4 ok?' It read.

I sigh and reply to him: 'Yeah okay. See you then...'

I head over to Delmar's and make small talk with Mr. Delmar for a little bit while my order is being prepped. I thank Mr. Delmar and head to my apartment and wait for Peter in my room.

I constantly check my clock and watch. 4:00… 4:15…5:30…7:45… the hours go by waiting for Peter and he never shows up.

Around 8:30 I hear a weak knocking on my window and see Spiderman, hunched over, gripping his side. I hurry to open the window and help him in.

"What happened to you?!" I say in shock as I lay quickly cover my bed with a sheet and help him lay down. "This looks bad, hold tight okay? I'm gonna patch you up." I say quickly, giving him a squeeze on his hand and then running to the supply closet to get my emergency medical kit.

I hear him groaning in pain as I enter the room. "Scarlett…please…" He says through his teeth.

"I know, I know… this is going to hurt a little bit. I'm sorry." I pour some water over the gashes on his side. I look up at his mask-covered face and see some blood coming from the side of his head. "Your head!" I exclaim. I reach over and have him turn his head slightly. Part of the mask had been torn and all I can see is curly brown locks, soaked with blood.

"Scarlett… do you need me to take my mask off?" he asks.

"If you're okay with me finding out who you are, then yes. I need to make sure your head's okay." I reply thoughtfully.

He shakes his head lightly up and down and then reaches to unmask himself. He grimaces a little at his movement because of his side, the stretching of his muscles. I stop tending his side wounds when I realize who the boy was behind the mask… my best friend, Peter fucking Parker.

"Peter!?" I exclaim, making him flinch.

"Hey, Scar." He says quietly with a smile. "Surprise."

"Peter Parker… is Spiderman… Spiderman is Peter Parker… Peter Parker is my best friend… I'm best friends with Spiderman…" I say in shock to myself. I turn to Peter. Slapping his shoulder, I freak out a bit. "How could you not tell me Parker?!"

"Ow! Hey!" He says, putting his hands up in defense. "Scarlett I'm sorry I wanted to. I really did. But then I found out you were Cap's daughter and Tony Stark was your uncle and I just didn't want you to get hurt trying to protect me – don't even try to fight that statement, you know you would – and I couldn't bear knowing that I let Captain America's daughter, and my best friend, get hurt because of me. Not only would that kill me, but your dad would kill me." He explains as I clean the wound on his head.

"You're unbelievable, you know that Parker?" I laugh, all anger towards him vanishing as he looks at me with his doe like brown eyes.

"But you love me anyways." He states matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I do. You're my best friend. I'm kinda stuck with you." I tease. "Now you gotta take off that suit so I can tend to the rest of your wounds. What happened anyways?" I tell him.

He presses the spider decal on the front of his suit and it goes slack. He slowly takes it off, wincing in pain the entire time. I help his take it off the rest of the way and set it on my desk chair. All he's wearing now is a pair of boxers. I hesitate with the cleaning alcohol and cloth pad as I take in how fit he is. He's got a nice set of abs, his arms are covered in pure muscle, and his chest is smooth and strong. I can feel my cheeks glowing a light pink but I quickly snap out of it when my eyes scan over the two gashes on his side.

#peter parker #peter parker x oc #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman hoco #underoos #marvel #marvel fic #peter parker fic #spiderman fic #avengers #stark tower #captain americas daughter #scarlett x peter

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oopscupcake · 7 years

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Promise - Part two

Hi everyone! This is a part two to my last fic “Promise”, requested by @haroldsbaby94. If you haven’t read it already I invite you to have a look at it here.

I really enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy it as well :)

Jess sat cross-legged in the windowsill of her childhood bedroom, her head leaned against the cold surface of the glass. She admired how from the distance the sky began to be invaded by the first reddish flashes of light which marked the beginning of a new day. She closed her eyes at the sound of the early birds’ chirps, enjoying the melody. It felt as if the ethereal symphony had been designed just for her, for him, for the most important day of their lives.

She couldn’t believe in a matter of hours she’d be walking down the aisle to her best friend, to the love of her life, to Harry.

Moments like those were the ones which made her realise how blessed she was. If she thinks about it now, there were very little probabilities that Harry would come back from the nightmare he was in; still, his will was so big that he managed to go through every single one of the cruel struggles that implied just to get home, to fulfill his promise.

Her eyes still filled of tears when she remembered that miserable time: the worry she always woke up to; the way the house didn't feel like home anymore; the fear that settled in her system whenever the doorbell rang, thinking it could be anyone to tell the worst of the news.

She wiped off some of the ones which had began to stream down her eyes, shaking her head to take the thoughts away.

The nightmare had ended and now she only had to focus on the future that awaited her by his side.

The buzz of her phone brought her back to reality. When she walked to the nightstand where it rested, a smile drew on her face as she spotted Harry’s name in the screen along with a text:

‘Morning baby girl.

I know it’s still very early for you to be awake but I haven’t slept at all and I couldn’t resist anymore the urge I had to talk to you. I’ve been up all night picturing the moment when we’ll finally be face to face, hands locked, about to say those two words which will make us one…’

Jess concluded his text by typing what was left. Just as she pressed the send button, another message popped out, both of them saying ‘I do.’ A smile drew on the boy’s face when he saw her immediate reply, figuring she had spent the night as sleepless as him. Without any hesitation he dialed her number, waiting impatiently to hear her voice “Hazz! we’re supposed not to talk before the wedding, remember?” “Love, to be honest I don’t care. I couldn’t sleep a thing and that’s because cuddling with a pillow doesn't feel as good as cuddling with you” Jess felt a butterfly revolution take place in her tummy as the words spilled out of the boy’s mouth. After so many years with him he was still able to bring back sensations like those. The best part was she knew that sort of comments weren’t previously conceived to provoke an effect like such, instead, he just said what he genuinely felt; she loved to tease him though “You sometimes can be soo cheesy...” the foolish smile plastered on the curly-haired boy’s face during the whole course of the conversation transformed into a pout, recognising the naughtiness in her voice “Oh, so you don't like my cheesiness? That’s okay, I’ll stop” the line went silent “Hazza?” “Harry are you kidding?... stop it” he wasn’t going to give in as easily, as much as she liked to tease him, he enjoyed to annoy her “No, I’m not kidding Jessica, what makes you think so?” she rolled her eyes, knowing right after the reply his game “Okay baby… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your gentleman feelings” the silence she received back told her it hadn’t been enough, sometimes he could behave like a real kid. “I actually adore your sweet words and the way you show me how much you love me with them. I don’t reckon I could carry on normally with my life without them” Even though Harry planned on disturbing her for a bit longer, the laugh he had been containing eventually managed to break free “Okay love, I’ll stop your suffering. Such a cutie like you deserves all the love in the world” this comment made the girl at the other end of the line giggle as she blushed madly.

When the laughs ceased a silence invaded the line, silence broken by Jess’ loud yawn “Love, why don’t you go and get some rest?” “I can’t, I’m way too excited as well as nervous” In that moment Harry recalled what he used to do when things like those happened “What if I sing you to sleep? you know, like in the old days” “Hazz, you don’t ha-” “But I want to. C’mon go to bed, not gonna take a no as an answer” She didn’t put much more resistance, on the inside she was enthusiastic about the idea “As you wish sir” “That’s my girl, now close your eyes and relax, think of this as if I was there, tangled with you” he began to sing softly to ‘I want to write you a song’, a tune he wrote to her in the early stages of their relationship.

She smiled at the sound of his deep voice, little by little feeling as her eyelids felt heavier due to its relaxing effect.

When Harry heard the faint snores she stubbornly denied about, he hung up, not before saying “I love you... Mrs. Styles”

[Time skip]

Jess looked at herself in the mirror for the first time in the whole chaotic day, a wave of emotions hitting her when she realised she was indeed about to get married.

The fact that she had fantasized about the situation numerous times was undeniable, but the sensations it awoke in her couldn’t compare at all to the bliss explosion taking place in her chest at that precise moment.

She liked the feeling, it was a reminder that she wasn’t dreaming anymore.

And thank God it wasn’t a dream.

“Honey, you look so beautiful… I’m speechless” The mannish voice coming from the doorframe made her move her eyes to the figure of her dad reflected on the glass. He stared at her with a proud smile, as he walked to her to wipe a tear that had begun its race down her cheek, placing a kiss on her forehead once he was done. “Dad, we made it. Harry and I made it, see? After everything we went through we accomplished to get to today. He promised to come back to marry me and he fulfilled his promise” the man brought her into a tight embrace, making her feel like when she was just a little naive girl. “Of course, sweetheart. You both deserve this more than anyone in the world. Your strength and his will to fulfill his promise brought you here” he watched as more tears accumulated at the corner of her eyes “Hey sweetie, today there’s no reason to cry, today’s the day to smile, smile so wide that you look ridiculous, but, after all, ridiculously happy” they stayed like that for a couple more minutes, him rubbing her back soothingly.

“We have to get out there now, but before I wanted to let you know how bad I regret what I once said about Harry. I regret having judged him and tried to drift him apart from you. I’m really thankful towards him, he makes you the happiest woman in the world and that's all I want in life. I’m very sorry” Her lower lip trembled slightly and her breathing was ragged. She bit it, trying to stop the tears from falling again.

It was true the first years with Harry had been pretty difficult. When her father found out he had an issue going on, he prohibited her from see him ever again. She had never disobeyed him until that moment, meeting the young boy secretly to help him get out of the hole he was in.

All for love.

“Dad, that doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all okay now and I’m sure Harry is aware of your regret and forgives you as well” the man looked at her daughter, when did she become that mature? “I love you, my little big girl” “I love you dad”.

He placed on her small hand the humble bouquet of flowers. She looked down at it, eyebrows furrowed in confusion “Niall, Louis and Liam made it, they said they wanted to gift you something unique” Jess let out a loud guffaw at the hilarious scene of the process of manufacture that came to her mind “I like it, it's… original?”

“This is the moment... are you ready?”

She took a deep breath, preparing to head towards her future “Yeah… I’ve always been ready for this”

Just as they stepped out into the garden, the lovely sight right in front of her eyes made her forget all the nerves previously felt. As she walked through the light blue path formed by petals scattered here and there on the ground she admired fascinated the scenery around: the wooden seats, where the small amount of guests sat, looked as if they had been made of branches, fairy lights tangled around them, giving a nice illumination to the dimness of the evening; in the altar white bougainvillea flower strings hung loosely from the arch, waving delicately side to side at the rhythm of the soft currents of air. It wasn’t until she got nearer that she saw several polaroids mixed between the flowers, detail that made her smile, she was more than sure Harry had done that. It had been quite a while since she last saw those pictures, the pictures which once captured the beginnings of their story.

Jess walked through the cold snowy streets, carrying dearly with her a small box wrapped in a Christmas themed paper.

Tiny snowflakes landed on her jet black hair as she wondered whether it had been a good idea to visit Harry on Christmas day. There was no turn back when she found herself ringing his bell and, seconds later, a smiley Harry looking back at her. “H-Hi…. Merry Christmas” she awkwardly played with the hard surface of the box, not daring to look at him after her shy greet “Jess, you came… Merry Christmas. Come in, you must be freezing” “It isn’t necessary, I don’t want to disturb, your family must want to spend time with you. I just-” his big hands cupping her cheeks cut her, taking her by surprise “You’re not going to interrupt anything, I’m alone. C’mon get in” he brushed some snowflakes off of her hair before guiding her inside.

“How are you? Have you….” “No, you don’t have to worry. I really do want to get out of that shit, every time temptation comes back I think about you… I- I mean all we’ve done to get where we are” now the one nervous was him, who blushed noticeably. When the hell did he return to his teenage years? he thought to himself.

It was difficult for Jess to ignore his reply, however, she managed to change subject to the reason for her visit “I just came to give you a little present” those words replaced the shame for brightness in his gaze along with a childlike smile, which gave Jess the most joyful sensation, and for a moment she wished she was the reason for that reaction. “Jess, you didn’t have-” “Just open it!” she said as she giggled and handed him the box.

His lips formed an “o” shape when he recognised the camera in front of him as the one he saw in her house “Oh my… Honey this is yours, I can’t accept it” she grinned as she tucked some wild strands of hair behind his small ear “Hazz, it’s no longer mine. From now on I want you to keep it and take pictures of anything that brings you happiness, so you can have a look at them whenever you feel down or that you can’t cope with your problems anymore” the boy gave her a hesitant look, to which she responded with a roll of eyes “okay…” the room went silent. Harry faced down at the item resting on his hands, not paying attention to it but gathering confidence to say his next words: “Can I take you a picture?”

A shiver travelled down the bride’s spine when she came back from her reminiscence to see the once shattered lost boy, now standing in front of her, love floating in his watery orbs. They spent a good deal of time staring at each other, everything around going blurry.

Harry swallowed hard, the overwhelm the situation produced him was tremendous, if It was for him he would skip the whole ceremony to get into the moment when he would be kissing her deeply, discovering her, not a perfect, but a full of genuine love future, by the intimate motions two mouths crashing against each other.

He admired how the dress reached all the way to her feet, hiding these and hugging her curves in the best way. The lights around gave the ideal brightness to her smooth skin and he wished they were alone to be able to trace it, feel it under his fingertips, under his lips, breath in its scent.

Their hands locked, fitting perfectly. Both felt how the hair on their arms rose when they found themselves saying “My wish is coming true”

***

The rest of the wedding couldn’t have gone better. Joy floated in the atmosphere around, everyone danced, talked, even laughed at Harry’s terrible jokes; the garden filled with booes towards him when he mentioned he used to be a baker while cutting the first slice of the wedding cake made by him.

Now they laid on bed, Jess on her stomach and Harry on his side, staring at the way her naked skin responded to the delicate traces of his fingertips all over her back. The bed which once was the witness of the saddest moment of their lives, now hosted their joy, their love.

The light in the room was dull, the only source of it coming from the lamppost outside in the street. The silence around was comfortable, the only audible sound being the one of their breathings softening after their previous activities. He stopped his carressings to pick his wife by the chin and turn her face towards him to place a slow long kiss on her plump lips “Thank you” the girl furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, asking the reason for that comment “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me… for making me the happiest man, for my life better. We’ve been together through thick and thin and you’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t. When I’m with you I feel so safe... you’re my home” Jess imitated his position in bed, facing him. She cupped his cheeks and made the tip of their noses to touch “Hey, you don’t have to thank me nothing. As much as I’ve done for you, you’ve done for me; I’ve also had ups and downs and you’ve always been the first person to make me feel like everything was going to be okay” he brushed his nose against hers “You have no idea how much I love you, my angel. Promise I’ll never let you down, I’ll always be there for you” she giggled when he playfully bit the flabby skin of her pomule “Even when I’m old and grumpy?” “Yeah, specially then. I’ll be walking around you telling you how cute you look when you’re irritated, and insist even more when you groan in annoyance. Whenever I hear you complaining about the crinkles around your eyes I’ll be there to remind you all the laughs we had together… I’ll be there to make you realise why you should love them; and even then I’ll still see you as the most beautiful woman ever to be on planet Earth. Of course not everything’s going to be perfect, that’s for sure, we’ll make each other mad, we’ll argue, we’ll get stressed, but I’m not worried about it because I know love wins over anything else and we’ll fix our problems as well as we’ve done tons of times before” Jess’ heartbeat rose at his words and she asked to herself what in the world she had done to deserve such a beautiful human being “Harry, that was really heart touching, indeed. What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he brought her closer to him, feeling her fast heartbeat against his chest “Being you”

She snuggled in his strong arms, playing with his little curls. Their breaths became deeper and the embrace lost tightness; their last words before drifting off were:

“I love you Mr. Styles”

“I love you more Mrs. Styles”

MASTERLIST.

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giraffles · 7 years

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We Kiss The Dusk Goodnight

this is an A/B/O au fanfic

because I have a Problem, here it the abo/omegaverse fic literally no one asked for but I’m in too deep now to stop. I really don’t know where this came from okay. JUST TAKE IT. and don’t kick me out of the fandom pls

warnings for language, some implied sexual content, and age gap. and actual smut eventually. I’M GETTING THERE OKAY.

We Kiss The Dusk Goodnight (Bulge/Bruce/Manabu)

The next morning, over a third cup of coffee, Bruce delivered an ultimatum.

“We have to figure out who the hell it is,” he muttered into a mug, “Before they send half the station into a rut.”

Or, the omegaverse AU no one asked for.

you can also read the first chapter here on AO3!

He knew from the moment that Bruce slammed into him in the dark hallway that something was different. It wasn’t as though their relationship was new, or that meeting like this for a tryst was uncommon, but there was something heavier in the air between them. But what it was escaped Bulge, and it became harder to focus once he had a handful of Bruce’s hair and a mouthful of tongue. Trying to think about what may have changed took a backseat to getting their clothes on the floor of his quarters, and was suddenly irrelevant when Bruce started snarling possessively at him. Pack dynamics be damned; fucking with another alpha was an experience that never ceased to deliver. Or maybe he was just getting old, and any little thing would seem extra thrilling now.

"Come on,“ was the near desperate whine as Bulge fumbled with the lube, "It’s been too fuckin’ long.”

He never would have described Bruce as wanton. Pushy, yes. A little needy, maybe, once in a while when some kid off their suppressants happened to walk by headquarters. Able to act downright devious when the mood struck him. And yet he’d never quiet seen him like this, bucking back, giving in, but also making Bulge work for every inch. And you know, he found he liked it. Gender and sexuality historians already had a field day with the SDF and the tight knit platoons that were both packs and most certainly not packs– they would have loved to have a look at a captain and his first officer falling in like this.

It wasn’t as though relationships of, ah, mutual benefits, didn’t happen. But those were usually throw away things, one night stands or scheduled with heat cycles, with attraction but not necessarily affection. Not the unwavering loyalty and connections that being soldiers-in-arms created. The SDF turned a blind eye to most incidents like this, as the higher ups (and by extension, the enigmatic supreme commander) didn’t care what they did as long as they got their jobs done. Ironic that a military organization had some of the most lax and open views on matters.

"Damn,“ he swore, every sense on high alert, "Someone must be presenting.”

"Fucking cadets,“ Bruce growled, his nails digging into Bulge’s shoulders, "They let them in way too young.”

It’s an empty complaint, because the age and timing of presenting could never really be guaranteed. Every time science and society thought they had it figured out, a new batch of outliners skewed the data again, proving that biology and evolution did whatever they damn well pleased. And that people don’t always like to fit into the molds the world set out for them. Strict roles were all but obsolete in this day and age, relics of times long past, even if some conventions died hard. Like the fact that most of those who ended up in combat units just happened to be alphas. Betas were most common after that, with omegas and the rest of the spectrum coming in last.

The next morning, over a third cup of coffee, Bruce delivered an ultimatum.

"We have to figure out who the hell it is,“ he muttered into a mug, "Before they send half the station into a rut.”

Bulge agreed wholeheartedly, because the wheel universe stopped for no one, bodies going haywire or otherwise. “They may not even realize what’s happening.”

"Fucking kids.“ Bruce repeated his sentiment from the night before. Bulge couldn’t admonish him, not when he knew it actually came from a place of concern. Someone could get hurt while in the wild throws of base desires. Scuffles might break out between unbonded parties, causing a headache for all involved and a HR nightmare. Most people could exercise discretion. Most, but not all. Bulge ran a hand over his face.

It was going to be a long day.

One long day turned into another, and then another, and they still couldn’t figure out who was running headlong into heat. Being in such close proximity to so many people meant that most went scent blind, and the prevalent use of suppressants dampened pheromones in general. Bulge hoped it was just someone who had missed a dose or two, or maybe some visiting family member, but something told him that it wouldn’t be that simple. If only for the fact that it came and went with such regularity that it had to be someone on SDF shifts. But without invading each person’s personal boundaries, it was impossible to pinpoint who. Performance in the Sirius platoon was already suffering; it was hard enough to rein his own short temper in, much less keeping Bruce in line and Manabu from butting heads with him. Louis was pointedly uninterested in the whole affair, and David did his best to diffuse situations, but everyone was on edge.

"No, the other console Yūki, get it together–”

"I have it together!“ Manabu snapped back, "Stop distracting me!”

"Stop it, both of you,“ It honestly felt more like babysitting than leading a platoon through drills, "Get a hold of yourselves.”

Bruce huffed and Manabu went back to sulking, even brushing off Louis’ reassurances. The sooner they found whoever was the source of this, the better. For all of their sakes.

"That’s enough for today.“ He sighed, even though it was early for them to be stopping. There was no point in continuing however when everyone was so wound up; He swore he caught David murmuring a prayer of thanks. At this rate, it was Sirius that would be having the first casualties, especially with the way Bruce kept fixating on Manabu-

Oh lord. Manabu.

If there were any merciful deities left in the cosmos, then please let him be wrong. Please don’t let it be the wide eyed and enthusiastic son of Wataru, too fresh and young and inexperienced to be dealing with such matters.

Bulge had always assumed Manabu was an alpha, like the rest of them. Like his father and brother before him. It would have made perfect sense from multiple standpoints, and regardless, he might be reckless and naive, but he wasn’t stupid. Not stupid enough to go off medications in an environment like this.

"Manabu, a moment.”

"What?“ Came the annoyed reply, though he quickly corrected himself, "What is it, captain?”

There was no easy way to start this conversation, especially with Bruce giving them a sideways glance as the rest of Sirius platoon disembarked. Sometimes his first mate did have some tact and stayed silent, leaving Bulge alone with a nervously fidgeting Manabu.

"Manabu,“ he began anew, "I need you to be completely honest with me.”

"About what?“

"Tell me you’re on suppressants.”

Manabu went bright red, hands curled at his sides as though he was resisting the urge to cover his face. “W-who told you?”

"No one. Everyone on the base can smell you, Manabu. You have been taking them, haven’t you?“

At that he did cover his face and sink into the nearest chair. Bulge felt a protective urge swell up in him, caught somewhere between concerned captain and alpha instincts.

"Manabu, it’s alright-”

"But it’s not,“ he sounded so utterly miserable, "It’s not okay and I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

"Nothing is wrong with you.“ Frankly, Bulge was alarmed that he would think there was. Who on earth had lead him to believe that? Then he remembered Tabito, the tiny mining planet, full of nice people. Traditional people. Stubborn people. God damn it to hell. "Manabu, look at me.”

It took several long minutes, but finally those brown eyes peeked out from behind his fingers. He looked so small in that moment, so unsure and shaken. Bulge wanted to reach out to him but knew it was a dangerous idea. Even a simple touch could have catastrophic results.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,“ he repeated instead, "It’s normal.”

"But I’ve been on the stupid pills for forever!“

"Sometimes they stop working.”

"Are you serious,“ Manabu groaned, "Oh my god, just kill me. Better yet, let Bruce kill me. That’ll make him happy.”

If only he knew about the way the first officer sometimes looked at him. Because of course Bulge noticed, and couldn’t fault him for it when the traitorous thoughts had passed through his own mind. But this was Manabu, fierce and compassionate and utterly oblivious. “Can you, ah, take care of it on your own? Or should I find someone to help?”

Manabu returned to being covered in flush and made a strangled sound. What he would have given in that moment to have Wataru back, just for this awkward conversation. Bulge wasn’t cut out for family life, much less pack duties, an certainly not prepared to give a pep talk on someone’s first heat.

“I can do it, I’ll be fine,” And then softer, “Probably.”

"You’ve got to be kidding me.“

"Bruce,” he grumbled back, “Give him a break. It’s not his fault.”

"I know it’s not.“ And yet his first officer was pacing in the break room, agitated and probably ready to pick a fight with the next man who looked at him wrong. Which is exactly why Bulge had decided it was better to stick close to him. "Of all the people, why did it have to be him?”

Fate was a cruel thing like that. It didn’t much care for the wants and needs of the individuals subject to it’s whims. Yet he couldn’t have agreed more.

"It’ll be fine.“ He said, even though he was unconvinced of that. Manabu had said he would be okay, but the young man’s track record on things was less than stellar. Just how many times had he disobeyed a direct order or accidentally gotten himself into trouble? ”…probably.“

"This is insane.”

"There’s not much we can do about it, save removing him from active duty.“

"Have you?”

"Yes,“ he nodded, "I’ve put in for the whole platoon, actually.”

That stopped Bruce, who looked back at him in confusion. “Why?”

"Because none of us are in any state to fight.“ And, he doesn’t say, there was no way he would be leaving Manabu alone at the base. Not a chance in hell.

"Stupid kid.” Bruce said without heat. He was worried. He’d never admit it, especially not to Manabu himself, but Bruce worries after him. Sure, he shrouded it in snark and biting words, kept him at arms length to spare himself any future pain. But he did care. Just in a roundabout way.

He felt the unease acutely. The outdated, nagging animal part of his subconscious wanted him to go out and fawn over the omega, stay close, so close, to him and make sure he was alright. Which was unnecessary, and oppressive; Manabu was his own person. And, he could only hope, not too proud to ask for help if he needed it. Then again, he was notoriously stubborn.

Maggie from Spica poked her head into the room. “Excuse me sir, but there’s a… situation.”

Bulge felt his stomach hit the floor and keep going. It hadn’t even been more than a few hours. Bruce swore, and had dashed out the door before he could move.

"I’m going to kill him,“ Bruce spat once Bulge had caught up with him, "And then he’ll never be a pain in my ass ever again.”

If the spike in pheromones was distracting before, now it was downright overwhelming. Sticky sweet and alluring, enough to make his teeth itch. Tinged with a hint of panic and desperation. He remembered Manabu’s panic attack from one of their first missions, remembered the way that he could crumble so easily under too much stress, even if he came back from each fall that much stronger. He was alone somewhere in these halls, lost and scared, and Schwanhelt Bulge was going to find him.

It took every measure of restraint he had in his being to not rush the members of Vega platoon and then to keep Bruce from doing the same. They were all in a circle, ringing a huddled mass in front of the vending machines, who he could see shaking from ten paces back. Bulge gathered up what little calm he could before speaking.

"Murase,“ he began evenly, "What is going on here?”

The leader of Vega turned his scarred face to them, lips curled in a snarl. “You haven’t kept your pup on a tight enough leash.”

If he was seeing red, then Bruce had to be absolutely livid. Bulge didn’t normally buy into the stereotypes of alphas beings hot-headed and temperamental, but there was no denying the tension crackling between the two groups of men. Vega actually had less alphas than Sirius, but that didn’t stop their two betas from being just as aggressive as their peers. He could appreciate the no nonsense, tough as nails approach to their platoon; what he didn’t appreciate was them hassling one of Sirius’ youngest members. Especially one who at the moment was so vulnerable.

"Why do you keep this whelp around, anyway?“ Murase grabbed Manabu’s arm in an attempt to haul him upright, "He’s fuckin’ useless-”

"Unhand him.“ Bulge growled, enough alpha tone sneaking in to make even Bruce flinch beside him, "This is none of your damn business.”

He sneered, but let go of Manabu, who crumpled onto the floor once more. In an instant Bruce was between the Vega men and him, radiating an aura of bloodlust. Bulge had no doubt it would come to blows if the veteran SDF members didn’t back down. Yet after several agonizing minutes, they did just that, with Murase shaking his head as he lead them away.

"You should keep a better eye on that pup.“ Was Murase’s parting shot, and Bulge stared them all down until they had gone round a corner, then out of sight. A soft whimper brought him back to the moment.

"Good god,” He crouched beside Manabu, who was still curled in upon himself, shuddering all the while, “Manabu?”

His head shot up, brown hair tousled, eyes wide with naked fear. Bulge’s reaction was automatic, as he reached forward and gathered the smaller man into his arms, where he clung to Bulge like a lifeline. He was nearly soaked though with sweat and it was hard to tell if his trembling was from being cornered by Vega platoon or something else entirely. Manabu let out a soft sob.

"I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry,“ he hiccuped over and over again, hands wound tight into the fabric of Bulge’s coat, "I’m s-so sorry, I’m-”

It was pure torture, being wrapped up in him like that, when he smelled so enticing and his skin felt so hot. Yet it was alarming, because Manabu’s distress became his own, putting his mind into danger mode. It was so confusing too, to have to choose between the feeling of wanting to bundle him up and keep him safe, or throw pretenses out the window and fuck him silly right there.

No, the second one was most certainly not an option, not without Manabu’s explicit consent. The idea that Bulge had even considered it for a moment was insane. But as Bruce had said, this whole situation was insane.

"It’s alright, I’ve got you,“ were the words he managed to get out while his heart tried to hammer it’s way through his chest, "You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

No, it was Bulge that should be apologizing. He should have never left Manabu unprotected. So what if they weren’t a real pack; he was still the ranking officer, the highest alpha in their group. He had a duty to them all to keep them safe and cared for. It didn’t matter if it was on the battlefield or not.

"Captain,“ Bruce hissed, "What should we do?”

A good question. A very valid question. “Go to his room and get all of his bedding, then meet me at my quarters.”

Bruce took off without any further prompting, leaving him with a wreck of an omega to somehow get back to his own room. Bulge shifted Manabu so he could cradle him bridal style, and tried not to think about how sore he was going to be afterwords. Manabu may have been shorter and slighter than his father and brother, and done growing at just past twenty, but he was heavier than he looked. Especially when he became dead weight in Bulge’s arms. The only thing working in his favor was the death grip Manabu had on his shoulders.

"I’ve got you.“ He said again, knowing that repetition of reassurances was one of the few comforts he could give at this point. Manabu stayed deathly quiet.

His captain’s quarters would be the safest place for the boy at the moment. It had extra security measures, was further away from the general dorming area, and most importantly, had space to breath. Not that the accommodations for regular officers were lacking, but there was extra square footage came along with his captain’s bars. It wasn’t a luxury Bulge often got to take advantage of, considering how often they were off world or completing missions, but he was glad for it. Now they just had to get there.

More than one head turned when he stormed down the halls with Manabu in hand, but none of them had enough of a death wish to stop him or ask questions. There was no use trying to hide what was happening; anyone with eyes and a nose could tell. Besides, sudden heats or failed suppressants were bound to happen from time to time, and only the most petty or immature would hold it against someone. He made a mental note to ask Yuki later if she could find a different medication, or some other resources for Manabu. Certainly her expansive medical database would have something that could help. In the meantime, Bulge was resigned to his fate as a stand-in pack leader.

"What were you doing outside of your room?” He wondered aloud, not expecting the silent and shivering Manabu to answer. But after a sharp intake of breath, he did;

"I just wanted a drink,“ Manabu mumbled into his neck, "I’m sorry.”

"It’s alright,“ he tried to think of something, anything other than the hot body pressed against him, "I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

A heady, impulsive promise, but it felt right. It felt like proverbial stars aligning and Fate taking the helm, and he let it happen. Consequences could wait until a later date, maybe when they were all more clear headed and fully aware of the repercussions. But not right now. Manabu let out a soft sound and buried his head into his shoulder.

Finally they made it to his door, where an agitated Bruce carrying sheets and blankets was already waiting. He knew the code to get in, Bulge had shared it with him years ago, but it seemed he still waited for permission even after all this time. A nice gesture, but unnecessary given their history. (Yet, this was also not the only hangup Bruce had, his relationship with relationships being rocky at best. Bulge had been there for most of them and knew it was hard to come out unscathed, and not to mention his own lovers lost.) Still Bruce was the one to punch the password in, and the first to enter, heading straight for the bed as he’d already figured out the plan. Bulge’s bed wasn’t terribly large, but it still dwarfed the tiny bunks given to new recruits, and therefore was perfect for nesting. Even if Manabu didn’t understand it completely, having a place to nest would undoubtedly help. He tried not to think about the implications of having an omega in heat in his bed, even if their options were limited. Destiny Station might have protected heat rooms, he wasn’t sure, and in any case he felt better by having Manabu where he could keep an eye on him.

“You have to let go, Manabu,” Bulge sighed to him when he continued to cling tight, “You’ll be safe here.”

“Don’t want to,” Manabu murmured back, “You smell nice.”

“Nope, that’s it,” Bruce said through gritted teeth, beginning to physically pry Manabu off of him, “You’re not allowed to make more of a fool of yourself than you already have.”

Manabu made little unhappy sounds, but they got him onto the bed. His eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, sweat sticking stray hairs to his face. Bulge had heard that the worst part of being an omega was the loss of autonomy— of becoming a slave to whim and instinct, left in a state that they were often taken advantage of in days of old. (And, as much he loathed to admit it, it still happened on backwater planets where society liked to backslid into unconscionable habits.) The amount of power he could wield over Manabu right then was ridiculous; and worst of all Manabu would let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever either of them wanted, actually.

Which was why Bulge was focusing on getting Manabu’s boots and coat off before hiding him under the sheets. Then he was going to take a bath in a tub of ice and try not to die.

"Would you hold still?“ Bruce snapped at the younger officer, who was being very wiggly, trying to snuggle up to Bruce while he peeled off his SDF jacket, "Are they always like this?”

"Yes,“ Bulge replied a little too quickly, remembering Catalina and the one time his off duty night happened to coincidence with her heat cycle, "Don’t be too hard on him. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.”

At least the abject terror that had engulfed Manabu before was gone. Small things to be thankful for in a trying time. Fear was now being overtaken by desire, filling the room with heavy want, and he needed to get out before he went mad from it all.

"I’m going to go get Yuki.“

"But I’m fine now!” Manabu protested, and Bruce threw a blanket over him so that his next round of complaints were muffled.

"Stay with him, I’ll be right back.“

Bruce sighed as he pushed more bedding on top of Manabu. "Yes, sir.”

#galaxy railways #galaxy railways fanfiction #au fanfiction #ao3fic #abo #just take my trash and don't judge me too hard okay #i got really involved in world building #and i'm a sucker for polyships #and pack dynamics #im already in too deep #manabu/bruce #schwanhelt/bruce #schwanhelt/manabu #schwanhelt/bruce/manabu #(pushes them all into a pile shhhh)#giraffles

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