#but like how can someone be called Harold and not be a mess of a man

[ajaxxx-x]

when you think of hal jordan you think of a space cop asshole

when i think of hal jordan i think of a silly little loser who makes me kick my feet and twirl my hair like a teenager on the phone in a 1990s movie

we are not the same

#thinking of that one panel where hal is on the phone with ollie where they look like a teenagers #hal jordan #he’s so pathetic #i love when he fails he’s such a loser #irony #but like how can someone be called Harold and not be a mess of a man

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Boyfriend scenarios :) deku baku shoto

Going through these steadily lol now it's izukus turn, and then I'm gonna try to write a part 2 for all of the characters I've done

Masterlist <3

Izuku boyfriend scenarios, Fem!Reader (SFW and NSFW)

-Part 1

He meets your pets

He knew you were the one when he came over to your house for the first time ever and his eyes landed on the little hedgehog having a nap in its little enclosure.

Immediately his eyes were sparkly and wide and his whole face lit up.

He walks towards the cage with every intent on becoming besties with your pet, whom you'd named Caesar because you thought it was funny.

You knew Izuku was the one because he understood the reference.

"Oh! Because of the spikes? It references Caesar's death, right? He was s-stabbed with twenty-three knives..."

He lets out a nervous chuckle, wondering why you couldn't just give him a less cursed name like... Harold... Or something, and he sweatdrops slightly as you giggle, taking Caesar out of his little home and watching with amusement as Izukus beautiful green eyes follow your every movement.

You hold the little animal in your cupped hands, giving your boyfriend an encouraging look as he nervously shuffles away, not wanting to be stabbed.

"It's okay, Izu. He's very friendly! You just gotta hold him gentle, it doesn't hurt at all..."

He hesitantly outstretches both of his hands, looking at little Caesar like he's just a little kid again. He's got that spark of wonder in his eye that lights your whole world up, and when he takes the little rodent carefully and slowly, looking up at you to seek your approval, he gasps and smiles at the feeling of the rodent's little feet on his hands.

"It's so adorable- and it doesn't hurt- I wonder how distantly they're related to the porcupine family, if even at all- do they make noise?! What do they eat??-"

You giggle and try to calm the boy down, but seeing him get so overexcited because of something so precious to you like a pet has your heart doing leaps into you throat.

This boy is an absolute sweetheart, and whenever you need someone to look after little Caesar while you're away, the first person you call is Izuku.

You teach him all kinds of things about hedgehogs during his first visit that he's so enamoured he doesn't even realise you have a cat too until it jumps into his lap, subsequently frightening the life out of the poor boy. You could see his ghost practically leave his body and you're suddenly relieved that you put your rodent back in its enclosure because you know it would've gone flying just now.

The laugh that forces its way out of your throat is loud and joyful, and even as you nearly choke on the joyful noise you can see Izuku joining you by your side, petting your fluffy cat and watching as it purrs.

"Wai-... Has your cat not tried to... eat Caesar?..."

You laugh at that, summoning your cat with a tut of your teeth and petting the attention seeking creature as it covers you in its fur.

"Luckily, no. He wouldn't be very pleasant to eat, I don't think..."

He walks in on you changing

He's a blushing mess as he stands in front of you, completely frozen in shock and panic. He had only come into your dorm unannounced because you were expecting him, but now he stands in front of you, and you're stood in front of him.

And you're clad in only panties. You look at him with wide, startled eyes and in your blind panic, you throw the nearest item at his head, an almost-empty bottle of hand cream.

It hits him straight between the eyes and he still doesn't react, staring at your boobs like he only just noticed you had them.

"Izuku Midoriya!"

That catches his attention. Finally. He tears his eyes away from your chest, which you cover with your arms, and looks you in the eye, knowing he's in trouble. Noones ever used his full name like that except for his mother, and he's a little afraid.

There's already a little blue bump appearing between his eyebrows where he was smacked in the head, and he stares at you as if you had just blessed him with the image of Jesus Christ himself.

Oh, wow. This is the first time you've ever seen shy boy aroused. Now, that changes things.

You raise an eyebrow at your partner, smirking at him and pushing your breasts up a little, making his eyes trail down once again. He's shaky and embarrassed and his face has gone more red than his shoes, but there's a significant tent in his pants that has you surprised at how large it is.

Yes, he's such a gentleman and has the most respect in the world for you, so you just knew it was big, but having your suspicions confirmed is a whole other thing.

"Aw, are they really that nice?~"

He nearly combusts at your doorway, and thankfully he had enough sense to close the door at the start.

You get a new piercing

Ever since he had seen you half naked that one time, he'd had some kind of obsession with your boobs.

When you would wear low-cut tops, you would catch him staring. When you were making out, he would massage and kiss them. He likes to leave hickeys there whenever he could, and he had memorised every freckle and scar there like they were constellations.

So, while he was continuously busy with training and studying and the two of you had literally no time to be alone together, you had gotten them pierced.

They were predicted to be completely healed by the time his birthday came around, so you waited, and you took good care of them, and cleaned them every day.

So now, on the day of Izuku's birthday, after all of the celebrations and the cake and singing, you took him to your room to give him his last gift of the day, and arguably, his favourite.

He gives you a somewhat confused look, because obviously, the sweetheart expects nothing like this from you, and was happy to wait until you felt comfortable enough. So he tilts his head like a intrigued puppy, and follows the trail your hands make to your shirt as you start to unbutton it.

His eyes go about as wide as dinnerplates and he can't even stutter out a "wai- a-are you sure-? It's okay i-if you don't wanna go t-the whole way or a-anything-!!" before you've completely shed your top and start to work on your bra.

The second the bra is off, you could hear a pin drop as your boyfriend almost chokes, staring up at you and taking in the sight before him.

Beautiful, round tits bedazzled with little heart piercings fill his vision, and immediately he is rock hard. But he ignores it. So many questions fill his head as he stares and studies your body, and you don't even feel self conscious because you can see it in his eyes that he's having the time of his life.

He looks back up at you aa if silently asking for permission, reaching a hand out with the hesitance of a skittish cat.

When he actually gets to touch one, his mind goes blank. He was thinking about so many things before, like when you managed to get them and how they've healed so well, and if this was why you winced every time you jostled your chest too much (because he noticed that, apparently, but trusted you to talk to someone about it if you thought it was serious enough. Though he was seriously getting ready to talk to Recovery Girl about breast cancer pretty soon).

But now, all is quiet in his his head, and the only thing he can think about right now is how nice they are. They're so soft, and the metal is so intriguing and complements them perfectly. They're so, so pretty that he wants to lick them.

Even days after you've given him his last birthday present of the year, he's still in recovery, and he thinks part of him died and came back to life that night.

He sees you crying

The first time he had seen you actually crying it was like his heart had shattered into a million little pieces. He was so worried, because you were always so cheerful, and yet you looked so sad... so tired.

It turns out, that you'd had a few consecutive weeks of bad sleep. And that kind of thing fucks people up.

You had been told by Recovery Girl that you had been afflicted with an awry quirk.

You couldn't sleep until five in the morning and then you woke up again at eight, and you had carried on like this until you went into sleep debt.

So now, you're in an absolutely foul mood. Your body hurts and you can literally feel your brain and organs working overtime to keep you healthy, but you still feel like literal dog shit.

It takes the right dose of sleeping meds and Izukus calming voice and cuddles to get you finally knocked out again, and once you're snoring peacefully, he wipes the tear tracks off of your face and stays with you to keep you safe and warm. He prefers to keep an eye on you as well, since he's paranoid that you may have a negative reaction to the meds, and is ready to carry out Recovery Girl's emergency orders that she gave in case anything goes wrong.

He stays by your side protectively until you wake up again like a guard dog, ready to make you breakfast when you wake up and bring you a glass of water, teasing you about your snoring and making you flush in embarrassment.

You bleed on his bed

Netflix plays on Izuku's TV as the two of you cuddle and talk, the mossy-haired boy laying little pecks across your cheek as you nuzzle him and wrap your arms around his waist.

You're in his home now, since you have a week off for the holiday.

He has his leg slotted between yours as he huddles as close as he can physically get, and in the warmth and comfort of the embrace, you don't even think about the way that your lower belly cramps up a little, or the heat between your thighs.

Izuku does though. He tilts his head a little and furrows his eyebrows, wondering why his thigh feels kind of slicked up and... wet.

All it takes is for him to reach a hand down to touch his thigh to confirm that he's not, in fact, hallucinating, and when he brings calloused fingers back out from under the warm duvet his face pales and cold panic surges through his veins.

He's not even grossed out because he's too panicked to care. All he wants to know is why there's blood on his leg.

His little whimper is what catches your attention, and before you can even think to ask what's wrong, he's immediately going a mile a minute.

"Theres- b-blood-! Are you bleeding? Am I bleeding?!"

The way that he unceremoniously falls out of the bed in an ungraceful pile of sheets is almost funny, but you're too confused and worried to laugh right now, and now you know why.

As Izuku takes the sheets to the floor with him, your inner thighs are exposed to the low light in the room cast by the TV. Your heart just about stops.

You let out a yelp as you scramble off of his, now stained, sheets, feeling embarrassed and ashamed, and immediately Izuku feels bad for making such a big deal out of it.

In the course of what could only be ten seconds, you're ushered into Izuku's bathroom as he gathered his comfiest clothes for you, carrying them in his arms while he shows you where all of his mom's sanitary products are.

You had never told him about your cycle, but you can be sure he's gonna make use of that notepad and pen of his to keep track of it for you, since you're apparently useless at it. He would never say or think that though, he just cares a lot about you, and shows it by taking interest in everything about you.

Naturally, being raised with only a female presence as a real life role model, he is very in touch with his feminine side, and has absolutely no ill feelings towards your period, and while you clean yourself up in his shower, he asks his mom to make you a hot water bottle while he rushed to the store to get you all of the chocolate in the world and the pads he thinks you'd like the best.

He briefly remembers you saying something about winged pads cutting your inner thighs and chafing you, and he remembers just how much you bled in such a short amount of time with a small wince, and he gets you medium flow with no wings, and tampons for when you need them.

The second he comes back he's knocking on the bathroom door and taking your ruined shorts to his washing machine, because obviously he knows how to get bloodstains out.

You can't help but think to yourself how lucky you are, and the thought brings a few tears to your eyes.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #izuku midoryia x you #izuku headcanons #izuku imagine #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku #izuku boyfriend scenarios #mha boyfriend scenarios #bnha boyfriend scenarios #fem reader #mha x female reader #bnha x fem!reader #boyfriend scenarios #boyfriend headcanons

[tallochar]

Inspired, in part, by this post by @mzminola but also something I've been ruminating on for a couple of years now.

Talking about pre New52 canon here mostly, though opinions about New52 or post Rebirth canon are also welcome to be added on, just specify it so we don't talk at cross purposes?

One of the thing that messes with me as an adult thinking back on comics is that you simply cannot put Alfred as the single member of staff who is dealing with all of the Manor.

I mean you can, comic logic, Alfred Is Not Of This World, whatever you want personally want.

Me personally, I cannot.

I need Harold to be down in the Batcave dealing with that part of the property until he dies in the 2000s at the very least, but also, consider how many hours there are in each day and how much Alfred has to do and how he's always serving dinner in time and laundry is done and everything is restocked and yet he also has the time to be personally chaffeuring the members of the family around and someone is also going to be having to deal with the household expenses and count balancing and -- and --

Like all of that PLUS keeping up with the superhero stuff PLUS cooking what sometimes are LAVISH spreads (WHICH TAKES TIME! PREP WORK TAKES TIME! COOKING TAKES TIME! ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE ONE PERSON AND ALSO HAVE TO GO PICK THESE PEOPLE UP AND MAKE SURE THEY HAVE THEIR LAUNDRY DONE AND THE GARDEN IS NOT OVERGROWN AND THE HOUSE IS CLEAN AND -- AUGH)

I cannot just accept that Alfred is doing it all, on his own, with the occasional WE-affiliated-and-vetted company called in to deal with, say, catering for a big event or whatever.

Especially not if Bruce is young and Alfred's supposed to be raising him, like oh god no, which is why the idea @mzminola talked about in their post (Bruce raised by his relatives) has taken root in my brain and is now my own personal very much cherished headcanon and a source of plenty of excuses for Bruce but also varied and eclectic skills and connections.

But okay, let's say that Alfred got left in charge of just managing things for Bruce until Bruce is of age and can take over things himself (in theory, in practice Bruce definitely pushes all he doesn't want to deal with about the house on Alfred and all he doesn't want to deal with about the company on Lucius Fox and sets up a contingency to get Tim to deal with shit for Bruce if Bruce were to be unavailable / unsteady / acting sus), while Bruce is being passed around from relative to relative.

There's still the staff that the Manor had before the death of Thomas and Martha to deal with. Gotta downsize that but you cannot just boot everyone and close shop.

I mean, yeah you can, but also, some of those people were probably there for a long time and Alfred wasn't just going to throw them out.

The way things work out in my brain is if Alfred is the "face" of the staff and the only one who, usually, interacts directly with The Family, while the others are in the background minding their own business, asking no questions at all.

They probably lost some people in NML during the Manor collapse, and the staff had to go through the harrowing process of getting new people that they didn't know nor trust in and then do their own version of vetting and making sure there was nothing hinky about any of them and that they understood the importance of the privacy of their employers, etc. etc.

Some of them must have retired at some point or moved on and were let go with more than fair compensantion and retirement packages and some stuff actually got outsourced a bit as technology progressed and things changed.

Especially after NML, actually.

Alfred is not going to hire someone just to come by to do all of the laundry, but he might have a trustworthy laundry service that is Bristol-based and is used to dealing with Rich People without asking questions.

And I am not say that they have to be In The Know life Alfred and Harold.

Actually, I prefer the idea that they aren't and that they just have this cushy job and loyalty to the Waynes and are all well compensated for being quiet and dealing with stuff on their own.

Sure, Alfred deals with the supernatural side of things, absolutely, and I am sure he has state of art machinery for, say, dealing with the costumes after patrol, but the Manor is huge and the upkeed is time consuming and exhausting and Alfred is too busy to do everything on his own.

So basically what I am saying is:

I have a might need for Alfred and his skeleton crew of long-time, trusted employees who keep the Manor running and stay out of the way of the bosses and everyone lives better like that.

I need Alfred's list of Trusted People who can deal with the family's laundry without messing it up and come do repairs when they are needed Upstairs since Harold won't leave the cave.

Give me Bruce's different childrens' different relationship's with said skeleton crew and Bruce's own distant relationship with them too and their reactions to things.

Allow me to have the skeleton crew sticking around and keeping the Manor up and running whenever Alfred is off around the world with Bruce for recovery / training / support purposes or who are still there and keeping things going when Alfred is too busy feuding with Bruce to look after everything else.

#meta #dc meta #my worldbuilding #things that haunt me #alfred pennyworth #running a Manor is not a one person job #The Skeleton Crew

[shinechermont]

Her love

Chapter 4- The "advantages" of marriage

Tw: (implied) dubcon, sexism, racism

Diana’s new house was totally different from what Carla was used to. She could tell it just by the size of the walls surrounding her house - they were almost the height of her house. 

It was from that moment that she knew that Harold was a rich guy.

‘He is an empresarian’, Diana said when she presented him to her. Well, that made sense with what she was seeing.

She rang the bell and waited for someone to come. No one but the yellow skeleton herself appeared to welcome her.

“Dee, what is this?”, Carla said thoughtlessly, what made her friend blush - maybe in embarrassment - as she laughed.

“Mweh hehe- I know this can seem too much… but it is just Harold’s fancy taste”, Diana said as she opened the gate for her friend to come in. “Maybe we can have some tea in the backyard?”

Carla nodded, and then looked around. She didn’t know about the inside of the house, but she could say that the outside was… well… dead.

There were no plants to be seen - she was so used to see plants everywhere in Diana’s old house that just seeing the extreme opposite of it was.. eerie.

The backyard didn’t change much. To say it wasn’t sterile it had a bit of grass and some small rocks forming patterns, but that was about it.

“What do you think of it?”, Diana asked, as she sat down on a table that conveniently already had a teapot and two cups on it. “The yard.”

“It is, uhm… completely different from your house”, Carla said, not being able to not point that out.

“I know, but Harold isn’t very fond of plants, you know?”, the other said, serving tea for her friend and herself. “He says that plants make too much of a mess for his own taste.”

“But how about your own taste?”, Carla asked, not being able to hold herself back.

Diana seemed a bit.. guilty for being sort of called out? “Well, I made a deal with him. When I missed my plants, I could just go to my house and stay there for a couple time.

Carla wasn’t sure if that was a good deal, but she decided to not comment on it.

“So”, Diana said. “How have things been? It has been weeks since we last saw each other. I would have written to you but the honeymoon was too busy! ”, she smiled sheepishly.

Carla sighed. “To be honest I don’t have much to say. The last weeks were pretty average to be honest. But hey, it should be me the one asking questions here. How did things go in your honeymoon?”

“Well, as we said, it was very busy. We traveled to Paris, but we also went to the cities around it.”

“Paris?”

“I know, right? Those were good weeks in the end, mweh hehe.”

Carla took a sip of her tea. “I am glad that things went well for you, Dee. Harold must really like you to take you there”, she teased.

Diana looked away, taking a sip of her tea. “Well, how are you taking care of my plants?”

The change of subject made Carla get a bit weirded out. “They are all healthy. The book Nora wrote really is helping me out to make them stay alive, hehe.”

“I see. Thank you so much  for doing it for me”, Diana said, putting her hand over her friend’s in a caring way. “If you have any problem with them, don’t hesitate calling me, okay?”

Carla felt her bone cheeks getting a bit warmer. Dee was looking at her so tenderly…

“Alright.”

“Well, well, well, there you two are!”, a male voice approached. It was Harold. “At this point I thought you went out to buy groceries.”, he then turned to Carla, “How are you doing? Is the house hospitable enough?”

“Yes”, Carla said politely. “I, uhm, really like the patterns the rocks do.”

“That is good to know! See, dear?”, he turned to Diana, “The house can be cozy even when it doesn’t have plants in it.”

“Yes, dear. It is pretty clear to me now”, Diana said with an exasperated smile.

“May I join you?”,  Harold asked.

“Of course. Could you pick a cup, so you can join us?”

“Why don’t you pick it for me instead?”, Harold said. “After all, you are the woman of this house. Besides, I really want to talk to your friend.”

“Sure thing”, Diana said methodically, but she kept her happy expression as she walked away.

Harold took his wife’s seat without even thinking twice. “So, Ms. Serif, how was your day?”

“Well, it was nice. I spent most of the time on my job, and after that I went here”, Carla explained.

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“At the police station. I am a secretary.”

“Oh! It seems to be a… tough job.”

“I am just a secretary. I answer people’s calls and write notes to pass them to the officers. I don’t see anything tough in that.”

“Well, but the cultural difference between the people in there and the people that call you don’t make things awkward?”

“Sometimes, yeah”, she admitted. “I can deal with it.”

“That seems like a phrase of a tough person would say. You should really be proud of yourself, Mrs. Serif. Not so many monsters, let alone female monsters, can get where you went. My darling, for example, poor little thing, she barely lived inside her little house.”

“She was a nurse”, Carla pointed out, not liking where the conversation was going.

“An underpaid nurse. But I helped her make it to a better life. And she is so much happier now.”

Carla just nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

“What were you two talking about anyways?”, Harold said, not liking the silence of the conversation.

“About your honeymoon. It was in Paris, wasn’t it?”

“For sure”, Harold said with a smug smile. “I can’t help but give my wife the best. Our first night was the most pleasant of it all, but poor little thing, she was so sheepish with the ambience and all.”

Carla frowned, putting her cup of tea on the table. “Do you really feel like it is appropriate to say such things about your wife, let alone to her friend?”

Harold laughed sheepishly, as he noticed he was being called out. “Oh, I am sorry about it. I thought it was common for monsters to have open talks about it.”

“No, I think not. It is shameful for humans and monsters, in fact.”

“I see…”

The two stood in silence, until Diana came.

“Why did it take you so long?”, Harold asked. “Nevermind, I remembered I had something else to do. I won’t be able to join you two anymore.”

“There is no problem”, Diana said comfortingly, and Harold walked away, with an unreadable expression on his face. “What happened?”

Carla didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to have heard what she just heard. Harold never said things like that in the meetings they had before the marriage… She wondered what kind of things Diana listened to everyday…

“Nothing much”, she said. “He said there was just some paperwork he had to fulfill.”

“I see”, Diana said, sitting down and sighing. “Well, do you want some more tea?”

*******************************************

Cross (Carla) by jakei95

Dream (Diana) by jokublog

Harold... is a mystery

Fanfic is inspired by zu-is-here's, junipers-insects' and iatetheglue's works

#her love #her love fic #diana #carla #and harold #dream!sans #cross!sans #cross sans #dream sans #cream ship #xunshine #cross x dream #dream x cross #harold is something dont you agree. #carla doesnt like him #fem!cross #fem!dream #tw implied dubcon #tw sexism #tw racism

[biolizardboils]

Crumpled Up Pages: Old Captain Underpants WIP #10

This is the last part, I swear lol. Holy cow, I did not expect how long it’d take to bring this one to a presentable state. As fun as it’s been to brush up half-forgotten ideas from the depths of my hard drive, I’m glad to have finally finished!

Again, same ground rules as Part 1. I’ll also be referencing some WIPs from Part 2 here, so you might wanna keep that handy in another tab.

Before we get to the main event: I used to jot ideas down in my blog’s drafts before transferring them to documents, so I dug really deep into my 100+ drafts for anything that might’ve been left behind. Sure enough, there was a whole list of drabble ideas in there! They’re all super short, so I wanna go over them for the sake of leaving no stone unturned.

(Movie-verse) George has a nightmare about Harold losing his Hahaguffawchuckleamalus

(Book-verse) Monster Stuff happens at school while the Boys are home sick, so another kid or kids have to fill in for them! I imagined they thought ahead and hid a comic somewhere that explains how to get Captain, while also leaving out The Truth somehow? (i.e. “Find Mr. Krupp, turn away from him, snap your fingers, and don’t turn around until you hear Captain arrive”?) Looking back this might be too contrived, even for this series lol

(Either) The Boys rig the intercoms to blast this song just as Melvin accepts a Perfect Attendance award lmao. (Fun fact I swear I didn’t know until this year: one of the “gangstas” in that video is Jordan Peele. What are the odds)

(Either) 5 Times the Boys were mad at having to drop what they’re doing because someone snapped + 1 Time they accepted that It Just Be Like That and just enjoyed Captain’s company

(Either) A study of how Piqua's adults and kids cope with the Weird Stuff differently. The adults deny, downplay, send each other to that one hospital for threatening the routines they don’t like, but can’t imagine life without. The kids feel lost without their parents' guidance, but enjoy the break from status quo and trust in an impossible hero. I wrote “like Derry, Maine but funnier” here lol

(Book-verse) The boys mess around with the Combine-O-Tron 2000 and end up fused Gem-style. There was this common idea floating around called Gerald (Buttchins surname optional) and I wanted to play with that

(Book-verse) Expanding on the Li’l Wiseguy Novelty Company! I actually did a little of this here and here, then stopped cus what I came up with was too similar to this SCP character

(Book-verse) The Boys develop phobias after Book 3 (zombies for George, aliens for Harold) and help each other work around them. George leaves a sleepover early when everyone votes to watch My Boyfriend’s Back and calls him a scaredy-cat, so Harold invites him over to watch something else. Harold can’t finish Ecco The Dolphin and laments the money he wasted renting it for weeks on end, but George plays the last levels for him so he can see the ending. This would’ve led into an Aesop on how silly-seeming phobias and triggers are still valid.

(Book-verse) Harold and Heidi debate who would win in a fight: Boomer or Gamera (the turtle kaiju on TV in Book 5). It's just a screaming match until they realize that both characters protect children, then they truce. (I was gonna give Gamera a parody name to match Boomer's Barney, like “Gammagon” or something)

(Movie-verse) Something to do with the Edith-is-an-alien theory? I remember a joke about someone citing her blue eyes as evidence, cus that must look unnatural in a world where everyone else’s eyes are black lol

(Either) The Boys go through their Sonic phase because I’m just that predictable lol. George would’ve loved the stories, Harold would’ve drawn OCs

——————————————————————————————————

And now, our feature presentation…

WIP #10: Captain Underpants and the Wish Of the Waistband Warrior

They created the greatest superhero in the history of their elementary school… but that was all in the past future!

Time travelers George and Harold make a pit stop in 1950-something, a peculiar time when strangers filled your gas tank for you and every band sounded like The Beach Boys. They don’t plan on staying very long, but that changes when they meet a kid who’s familiar and different all at once. Can they safely leave the past without preventing the future? And how will their new friend change how they view their greatest enemy…? 

Have you read your UNDERPANTS today? [Book!Verse, post-Book 12.]

This is it—the big one. My last attempt at publishing something CU-related, but definitely not the least. Drawing ideas and even entire scenes from the last few attempts, Wish was meant to be a love letter to the book series, disguised as a new installment in it.

Yeah, that logo I posted once? I was gonna make an entire fake Book 13 to go with it. Illustrations, chapters, made-up copyright info, the works! 

...Before wisely scaling it back into a normal fic, and then cancelling the idea altogether. But anyway, that’s why writing this one up took so long—its document is formatted way differently than the other 9, and I didn’t want to leave out stuff from the Book Hoax phase. Most of that stuff will be at the bottom because spoilers, but here’s what I can share now to contextualize the actual story:

I planned on posting snippets of it at a time and claiming it had leaked from Scholastic to drum up interest. Then upon release in PDF form, I'd subtitle it as “The Twelfth-and-a-Half Epic Novel by Alms Givings” to prevent confusion in the future. I think I considered cutting “Captain Underpants and” from the title too, because it’s crossed out in some places in the doc.

My goals for the project were to tie up Book 12′s biggest loose end and to affirm Kernel Theory in a believable, canon-compliant way. I took Dav’s comment on how he could’ve made Krupp more human as a go-ahead to do so—if he hadn’t said that, I likely never would’ve tried it.

The plot was my take on an idea that’d been floating around Tumblr for some time (the Boys time travel to when Krupp was a kid and it makes them Think About Things). I think @tornrose24​ was the one who came up with it; at least, her post is the first mention I could find of it anywhere.

I remember canning the project because I couldn’t think of a more dramatic climax; what’s here skips awkwardly from rising action to falling action, and it’s not a long or remarkable fall. (Other people have taken the concept further since, most recently being @infini-tree’s Jammer as outlined here. Go read that and search for “Jammer” on her blog if you want a cooler version of what I did!)

Speaking of what I did, let’s finally get into that! Wish mostly followed the George and Harold that left for time-travel adventures in Melvin’s Squid Suit (referred to as the Time!Boys from here on out). The book’s Forward, of course, was them summarizing the last 12 books with a comic. I never made that comic, but I did write dialogue for their usual address to the reader:

H: Hi everybody! It’s been a while, huh? We thought you might want a refresher before you see what we’ve been up to…

G: …So here’s a comic that’ll explain everything! Just don’t let it fall into the wrong hands, okay?

Ya’ll ‘ready KNOW how Chapter 1: George and Harold begins and ends. In the middle, it would’ve established their new normal: time-traveling in the Squid Suit, looking for Sulu and Crackers, taking care of the Hamsterdactyls, and causing some mischief along the way. Sometimes, though, they see things on their travels that make them think about their old lives. And one time, they ran into someone who made them rethink everything.

But before I can tell you THAT story, I have to tell you THIS story…

In Chapter 2: Awkward Class Reunion, the Time!Boys realize they’re hunting for treasure without a treasure map, and visit the Old!Boys for pointers (and a sleepover! I think I posted about this once but I can’t find it rn). So the Old!Boys hook them up with the best guy for the job: Old!Melvin!

The nerd’s mellowed out over the years, but he still freaks out upon seeing both sets of Boys. Like, he goes from “oh, that’s where my old Squid Suit went” to “STOP TIME-TRAVELING, YOU’RE NINE” to “SULU HAD KIDS WITH A QUETZALCOATLUS???” to “okay, if I can’t stop you, at least let me help you do it right”.

First he tries tracking Sulu’s place in time via GPS like in Book 11. Technology has advanced 20 years since then, so it should be easier than ever, right? 

Nope, it makes his computer crash. And then catch fire. But just before it crashes and catches fire, an error message claims that Sulu is somewhere where time and space don’t exist. That narrows it down to either before the Big Bang or after the Big Crunch. 

The Time!Boys fire up the Squid Suit, but Old!Melvin stops them and explains the risks. Taking a time machine to a timeless place is like driving a car into deep water: easy to get in, impossible to get back out. Ensuring a safe two-way trip requires… some wormhole-y, timey-wimey thing I never fleshed out. He offers to build the wormhole-thing, but he needs some artifacts from throughout Piqua’s history to keep it stabilized and locked onto the Boys’ time-signature. (I left a note to lampshade how Zelda-early-game-fetch-quest-y this is lol)

Cue Chapter 3: Tools of the Time Trade. The Squid Suit is outdated tech from Old!Melvin’s perspective, so he upgrades it! Here are the patch notes:

It can camouflage now! “What was I thinking, making a time machine constantly glow-in-the-dark?”

One of its tentacles hides a built-in Forgetchamacallit 4000, a new model of the memory-wiping device from Book 7. It can erase specific memories from as far back as a week. “I don’t trust you two not to play Pogs with 1800’s settlers or something, so use this after you’ve had your fun.”

And finally, a small hatch under the cockpit leads to a Holographic Oasis for Melancholy Explorers, aka HOME: a faithful replication of the Boys’ backyards, complete with treehouse! “Homesickness during long-term time travel is a real concern. Don’t look too hard into me doing this for you, it’s just common courtesy.”

Then he tells the Boys where and when to find the first Artifact. I never decided what it would be, only that it could be found in the late 1950’s. They thank Old!Melvin sincerely, and then it’s off to Chapter 4: 1950-Something!

——————————————————————————————————

The Boys hide the Squid Suit in a thicket near Jerome Horwitz, then head into town to start their search. They don’t find the Artifact, but they do find a vintage toy store that they really wanna shop at. So they head back to the school and, after humorously navigating a pre-digital teacher’s lounge, make a comic to sell for some time-appropriate money.

(Chapter 5 would’ve been that comic, of course. I planned on making up a one-off hero for it, cus the Boys using Captain or Dog Man before they were born would have Obvious Time Travel Consequences.)

In Chapter 6, they earn enough money to buy the toys and some extra supplies for their stay. As they try to remember where they parked the invisible Squid Suit, they hear someone enter the thicket and hide in the bushes. They peek out and see a kid their age walk up to a puddle, tie a red towel around his neck, and spout superhero-y affirmations to himself. His face and voice remind the Boys of two people they’ve been trying not to think about, but they figure it’s coincidence… until the kid calls himself Benny.

George and Harold slid back into the bushes.

“Is it just me,” George whispered, “or did that kid kinda look like…?”

“Yeah,” Harold said shakily. “But he was talking sorta like…!”

“I know! You don’t think…?”

Harold began to fidget. “Oh, man… What if he sees us and the timeline gets all messed up again?”

“Then we just won’t let him see us,” said George. “No matter what he says or does, we’re not getting involved. I repeat: We are NOT getting involved!”

Just then, something parted the bushes, exposing the boys to the afternoon sun.

“Hey, beans!” Benny greeted them. “Are you two new around here?”

“Uh-oh,” said Harold. “I think we’re involved.”

I can see this page clear as day: Benny crawling further into the bushes and being all friendly, and the Boys backing away and sweating like mad. Their backs hit an invisible dead-end—the Squid Suit!—and Harold scrambles for the Forgetchamacallit while George plays along with Benny's small talk.

The new kid asks for their names, so George makes some up: Bobby Georgia and Mike Harrington. Benny thinks their last names sound funny, and shares his own: Siskin.

The Boys freeze, suddenly feeling very silly for panicking over nothing. They whisper a bit and chalk up the resemblance to bad writing.

Now that that’s sorted out, they ease up and ask Benny what the puddle thing was about. He’s embarrassed that they saw, but is surprisingly quick to come clean. Cue Chapter 7: So Start Ignition, Count To Zero…

“I just wanna be a superhero.

[...] “‘Cus there’s lots of bad things happenin’ all the time. Things I can’t do a thing about. But I wanna do a thing about ‘em! I wanna stop the bad guys, and I wanna be there for people who need help!”

“… And, uh, havin’ cool powers would be neat, too.”

Benny looks away, as if expecting to get laughed at for his silly little dream.

The Boys simply stare at him. Usually they’d discuss what to do, but they’re both consumed by an idea they fear the other will judge him for. Something’s been missing from their lives for a while—though they can’t admit it—and now they see a chance to fill that void.

“We can help you.”

George and Harold blurt it out at the same time. Then they look at each other in disbelief, as if to say “No we can’t, what are you DOING?” But Benny looks up at them with such excitement and hope in his eyes, that they can’t bear to take it back. 

And so, they put their search for the Artifact on hold and hatch a plan to grant their new friend’s wish… at least for a little while.

(I thought of having them offer to be his sidekicks specifically here, but then I reread the books and realized that’s a Movie-only thing. Also, this is where I stopped coming up with Chapter names.)

——————————————————————————————————

The next day, the Boys buy even more supplies and meet Benny Siskin in the town square. They explain their experience with making up superheroes, and how that makes them qualified to teach him how to be one.

“REALLY???” Benny exclaimed, wide-eyed. “But… that’s a big leap from just makin’ ‘em up on paper! Are you two sure you can teach me?”

“Are you kidding?” Bobby boasted. “It’ll be a snap!”

Lesson 1: protecting your identity! The Boys bought a mask and one-piece pajamas to go with Benny’s towel cape.

“Hey, there’s still somethin’ left in your shopping bag.” Benny reached in and pulled out a suspiciously skin-colored bathing cap.

“Uhhh…” Bobby stammered. “Th-That’s not ours.”

“It must’ve f-fallen into our cart when we weren’t l-looking,” offered Mike.

“Well, good thing it did,” Benny grinned, stretching the cap over his head. “Now no one will recognize me by my hair!”

Lesson 2: getting superpowers! Harold has Benny drink a carton of Extra-Strength Super Power Juice (actually just Sealtest orange juice with a new label), then asks him what powers he wants. His first answer is flight—so George lifts him up with the invisible Squid Suit’s tentacles! Then he wishes for super-strength and tries chopping a metal park bench in half—the Squid Suit does it milliseconds before his hand hits (cus geez that would hurt), but he thinks it was all him anyway.

Lesson 3: Knowing when to jump into action! For their narrative convenience, a little girl’s cat just happens to be stuck in a tree nearby. After Benny “flies” in to retrieve it, the girl runs off to tell her skeptical mom about her superhero encounter. (Said girl happens to be wearing cowboy boots with stars on them.)

(I tried not to have the Boys suggest anything specifically Captain-y to Benny, just encouraged what was already there. The idea is that they didn’t put the Kernel there, just heated it up a bit.)

The Boys declare Benny a graduate of their College O’ Hero-ing and set him loose, secretly following him in the Squid Suit to provide his “powers.” I planned on drawing this as a montage, having the Boys’ expressions change as Benny helps people with their everyday problems. At first they’d be visibly worried, even having the Forgetchamacallit out in case things go south. But they don’t, so they start to relax. By the end, they’re smiling just as much as Benny :)

I never set in stone what exactly happens next; the following is just the scenario I lingered on the longest.

The montage ends when the Boys spot something in the window of an important building—the Artifact! They rush inside and nab it when nobody’s looking, overjoyed to have completed their mission in the middle of goofing off from it. Maybe you can have your cake and eat it too!

But when they walk out, Benny’s already wandered out of sight. They scour the city for him until they hear an alarm bell ringing a few blocks away. They hurry over to find a familiar scene: two robbers stepping out of Frank’s Bank… and Benny standing in their way and ordering their surrender.

Benny throws a punch before the Boys can even react. One of the robbers catches his fist, lifts him by the arm, and tosses him aside. Benny hits the sidewalk hard—not enough to need a hospital or leave lifelong marks, but enough to leave him shaken—as the crooks hurry to their getaway car and speed away.

The Boys rush over to ask if he’s okay. Benny starts to answer, but freezes up at the sight of something behind them. The Boys turn around to see the held-up adults streaming out of the bank… including a man with a familiar scowl, and a woman with a familiar build. They spot their son and come running; the mother to check him for injuries, but the father… 

I didn’t write dialogue here, but he was going to rant about how he should’ve put a stop to Benny’s superhero obsession sooner. He also would’ve yelled at the Boys for encouraging his silly ideas and forbid them from coming near him again.

Benny shoots the Boys an apologetic look as his parents drag him away. The Boys leave the scene just as the police arrive.

——————————————————————————————————

George and Harold have half a mind to leave for the future right there, but it doesn’t feel right. Instead they head back to the thicket and retire to their holographic treehouse for the night. They don’t get much sleep—there’s something the two clearly want to discuss with each other, but neither has the courage to bring it up.

They linger in the thicket the next day, hoping to see Benny again before they leave. They’re about to give up when he finally appears, visibly disheartened, but happy that the Boys waited for him.

He explains that his dad always thought his love of superheroes was a waste—that worrying about other people’s needs would get him nowhere—and that yesterday was the final straw. That night, his dad had made him throw out all his comics and toys and promise to “straighten himself out.” The Boys apologize, but he insists it was a long time coming. He also admits that he knew they were pulling “some kinda smoke-and-mirrors” on him yesterday, but thanks them anyway for helping grant his wish for a day.

He pulls out the one thing he’d saved from his dad’s purge, an official superhero comic book, and offers it to them as a parting gift. As fun as it’s been, he plans to make good on his promise, and claims it’s better if they all just forgot about each other and what they did together.

They all hug and say goodbye. Then, after some hesitation, the Boys zap Benny with the Forgetchamecallit and finally head back to the future... but in their hurry to leave, they drop his last comic in the grass. 

Benny opens his eyes and picks it up. All he knows is that his dad has finally thrown out all his superhero stuff, and that if he brings it home it’ll share the same fate.

Something about the situation makes him snap. Frustration fills him up until he’s shaking and ready to burst. And burst he does—by baring sharp teeth and ripping the comic in half.

He drops the pieces into a puddle, horrified less by what he’s done and more by how relieving it felt to do it. Overwhelmed and holding back tears, he runs back home, leaving the pieces to rot away.

Here I planned to draw another montage, this time of Benny growing up. I wanted its narration to both echo this passage from Book 10 and explain the lesson he’d taken away from that day: between sadness and anger, it felt a little better to choose anger. There’s notes here calling to explain (not justify, just explain) this thinking: it demanded people’s attention and made him feel more in control of situations. It got him through many things, and over time became his tool of choice—perhaps even his only tool. And when your only tool is a hammer, one tends to treat everything like a nail.

The only scene I locked into this montage was of his parents getting divorced, and him and his mother readopting her maiden name: Krupp.

——————————————————————————————————

The Boys arrive at Old!Melvin’s place and hand him the Artifact. He starts telling them where to find the next Artifact, but stops because they don’t seem very into it (don’t worry if you forgot this was part of a longer quest, so did they). They ask to take a break from time travel and walk back to their Old! selves’ homes under a setting sun.

On the way there, they finally reflect on why they leapt at the chance to help Benny …but not before admitting that they saw right through the last-name-misdirection thing and figured he was Mr. Krupp all along. (Harold would’ve even nailed that the name change was due to divorce—after all, he would know.)

So why had they risked changing the past and helped him anyway? It takes them some effort to dig beneath “he looked so sad” and “it just seemed like fun” and confess the real reason to each other: they were trying to recreate their time with Captain. They couldn’t admit it earlier because it seemed silly; running after him whenever Krupp heard snapping had been stressful, so why did they suddenly want that back?

At the end of Book 12, they’d jumped right into finding Sulu and Crackers; I wanted to posit here that they did so to take their minds off the messed-up stuff they’d just gone through, including the final bombshell that Captain was suddenly gone. But they hadn’t forgotten it, just refused to talk about or process it. It finally hits them on their older selves’ front steps—their greatest creation, one who’d saved their lives more than once, is effectively dead—and they stop to comfort each other accordingly.

Suddenly, something else hits them too: Mr. Krupp had liked superhero comics as a kid. They think back to when they’d found their confiscated comics in his cabinet in Book 1 (to quote the holy text: “He’s got every issue!”) Then they remember how Captain often knew what had happened in their latest issue, sometimes on the same day they’d written them (swinging on toilet paper in Book 3, his spray starch weakness in Book 5). Then they realize that in order for Krupp to become Captain while hypnotized, he had to know what Captain was like in the first place.

And so, sitting on their future front porch as the stars emerge, George and Harold come to a stunning conclusion: Mr. Krupp had been reading their comics the whole time. Not only that, but from what they now know about his past, there might’ve been more to the Captain’s existence than meets the eye…

The illustrations here would’ve shown the Boys imagining what had happened in Krupp’s head that fateful day. I planned to draw the dream-ish sequence described in WIP #9: Recall, but with the Movie-specific imagery removed.

The following excerpt was meant to accompany this sequence. It reads like the tail end of a longer statement, but it seems this is all that’s left.

He could run around in a cape and not even care if people looked at him funny!

He could help people like he’d always wanted… and this time, nothing could stop him.

He was now the greatest superhero of all time: The Amazing Captain Underpants!

Realizing all this strangely brings the Boys some peace. The next part is formatted as if it was meant for a multi-page spread with major focus on the illustrations, but I didn’t write down what to draw for it.

Captain Underpants, as they knew him, was gone. But they were happy to know that, just maybe…

… somewhere deep inside Mr. Krupp’s cold heart…

… the wish that had made the Captain who he was still remained.

Right where it had always been.

Their revelation is interrupted by the Old!Boys opening the door and bringing them inside. Their kids and spouses have gone to bed, so the Time!Boys take the chance to ask them how they dealt with Captain’s “exit” at their age.

To Make A Long Story Short: they hadn’t. Not at first, anyway.

First the Old!Boys explain how they found out Captain was gone (told in a flashback retooled from WIP #7: Coda). Then they admit to snapping around Krupp for a week after, just in case. They’d even considered using the Hypno-Ring on him again, but the idea just felt wrong. (And even if it hadn’t, I planned to reveal that it had been crushed under the TV when the treehouse got jostled in Book 11.)

But eventually, the Yesterday!Boys talked it out and chose to honor their fallen friend’s memory in several ways. First they took the Ring and other trinkets from their adventures, sealed them in their old carton of Super Power Juice, and buried it under their backyard tree. Then they designed a mural of Captain and the bad guys he fought (art by Harold, written dedication by George) and installed it somewhere in the school that only kids could squeeze into to see.

Finally, although they never went back to writing comics about him, they started giving him cameos in their Dog Man series like in WIP #8: Letter Column. George would write a scene that called for a crowd shot, and Harold would find the perfect spot to hide him. They kept this tradition going until it became another part of their lives, and their lives had slowly but surely moved on. They’d graduated, they’d met their spouses, they’d had their kids, and they’d gotten Dog Man published.

And all the while—as they show the Time!Boys by opening their latest books—the Captain had been with them.

But now that they have money and a respectable public image, the Old!Boys reveal that they’re planning one last memorial act: petitioning Piqua’s government to revive the Great Outdoor Underwear Festival, with all proceeds going to improving local schools. If the city gives them the go-ahead, they want to hold it on September 1st. (They mention that last part while winking very unsubtly.)

The Time!Boys get the hint, rush back outside, and set the Squid Suit’s coordinates for that date. And sure enough, they emerge in a town with festivities well underway. Red banners with black polka dots line the buildings, floats sponsored by Snotco parade the streets, and everyone has their underwear over their clothes and a wide grin on their faces.

They weave through the crowds and spot the Old!Boys getting interviewed by the Eyewitness 4 News crew. They wisely lay low to avoid exposing time travel live on camera and listen as Ingrid Ashley asks why they weren’t doing something more in line with their comics, like a dog festival.

I never fully wrote out the Old!Boys’ response, but I wanted its core message to be that underwear is what all people have in common, “from the highest king to the lowliest peasant,” and that acknowledging it brings them to the same level. Just as Ingrid starts to look sorry she asked, they wrap up the interview on this note:

“As an old friend of ours always said... Never underestimate the power of underwear!”

The news crew sets the men free, and they run off to rejoin their families. The Time!Boys decide to leave them be, duck behind a dumpster, and reemerge with their underwear on the outside. Raring to enjoy the festival, they vanish from view into the crowd.

I didn’t plan any narration or dialogue for the book’s last few pages, but I had some very clear visuals in mind:

The Yesterday!Boys’ mural, faded and chipping, but still standing 20 years later.

Jerome Horwitz benefitting from the Festival’s proceeds, as well as generally becoming a better school over time. The document calls for “more teachers like Ms. Chivess: willing to engage, sympathize, and even laugh with their students”.

Kids still drawing Captain in their notebooks and speaking of his good deeds in legend, just as real kids still draw the Cool S and sing the jump rope songs of old.

And finally: an older, retired Mr. Krupp watching the Festival in his living room. He would shake his head with an I-can’t-believe-I’m-seeing-this smile, and get up to do something else… but leaving the TV on.

——————————————————————————————————

And there you have it :)

We’ve got lots of document-bottom-extras to cover this time. First, a list of ideas I toyed with but never fit into the outline. I’ll let you judge if there was room for them:

Flashbacks to the Boys having Captain around just for fun. I think I shelved this because it made sense in Movie-verse, but not Book-verse, where they only snap during emergencies as sad as that is.

Giving Benny a favorite superhero—I couldn’t decide whether to make one up or just use a real hero from the Silver Age of Comics. (Let’s face it, I probably would’ve just gone with Superman.)

The elusive Jasper Krupp! I remember Dav announcing his existence after I’d started on Wish, and I drew him as a baby a few months later. Maybe I could’ve stuck him into the Frank’s Bank scene in a baby stroller.

The Hamsterdactyls having plot relevance? As you can see, I forgot to give them something to do lol. Maybe they could’ve just stayed with Old!Melvin, he’d probably want to study them thanks to their unique lineage.

The Time!Boys actually saving Sulu and Crackers. I chose to keep it a distant goal, but came close to just having them fulfill it as part of the plot

The Time!Boys reading the Yesterday!Boys’ Dog Man series so I could relate their themes to the plot. Specifically, I wanted to draw parallels between Krupp and Petey… and, in the same vein, Captain and Li’l Petey. (Please consider listening to this song from the musical and losing your mind like I did a few months ago)

The usual once-per-book stuff, like sign gags and Flip-O-Rama. I remember debating whether Wish could be a worthy successor without them

I REALLY wanted to end it with Something Fun instead of just linking to my blog and stuff. Like, “If you X because of Y on Page Z, send a message saying ‘Hey, I X because of Y on Page Z!’ to biolizardboils.tumblr.com. I’ll send you something fun!” Don’t ask what I would’ve sent, I never thought that far ahead lmao

At least one self-deprecating joke about this not being an official CU book lol

I briefly toyed with the idea that Jerome Horwitz was a better school once, maybe even a fun one. It was named after one of the Stooges, after all. Not to mention, the school’s held more than one event that clashes with the whole no-fun-or-creativity thing, like the annual field trip to Piqua Pizza Palace in Book 4. I figured stuff like that was put in place by the district, or some other higher level that Krupp couldn’t challenge. (I never thought of making up a superintendent and might have facepalmed when they introduced one in Epic Tales lol)

One idea I had for the Artifact tied into this: a brick from a room in the school that was later demolished to cut costs.

Now for more stuff from the Book-13-Hoax phase! First, I left behind a brief plan of what to draw for the book’s title page (not cover, that’s different). It would’ve looked similar to the one in Book 1, but with the Hamsterdactyls added, the Boys smiling instead of worrying, and Benny in place of Captain. (I imagine he would’ve been just off-page for the Bad Writing joke to still work.)

Here’s a Table of Contents I slapped together as a test. Only the chapter titles I’ve already mentioned were locked in, the rest are song names and phrases I thought fit thematically and added to fill up more of the page. I think the crossed-out ones on the bottom were "disqualified" for giving too much of the game away.

Book 5 opens with a quote from Einstein, and I thought of doing something similar. Here are some of the candidates:

“So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.” — Gaston Bachelard

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” — Pablo Picasso

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” — Danielle Laporte

And finally, the music segment! Wish’s document doesn’t have a Mood Ref section... but it does have a link to a 49-song playlist. I won’t be sharing the full thing because it’s too long and disorganized, so here’s some highlights instead:

Every song I’ve already linked to in this series (except the Biggie one)

Mid-century songs that fit the setting, like Mr. Sandman, Yakety Yak, and Tutti Frutti

Songs from that psyrock EarthBound album I gushed about that one time

These ones listed back to back that I think represented the Georges and Harolds: Good Day by Jukebox The Ghost, Good Old Days by Macklemore, and Champagne Supernova by Oasis

In the same vein, I think these ones were meant for Benny: The Great Pretender by Roy Orbison, The Last Waltz by Engelbert Humperdinck, and Hero by Nickelback

I Will Remember You by Ed Helms (I’ve never even watched The Office but oh god this one hurts)

Songs that ended up on The Warden/Mr. Blue Sky, including Used To Be A Sweet Boy, both versions of Superman, and The Banana Splits theme song

To close out this whole thing, I wanna share my favorite song on the playlist: Used To Be by Cody Fry. I heard it at my day job and left the floor to jot down the words, they broke me and I didn’t want to forget them.

Captain Underpants does not provide a moral for adults, because it wasn't written for adults—and that’s more than okay, it’s great! That being said, rediscovering the series in adulthood did teach me something. It was that something that I tried to embody in Wish and that this song captures perfectly: Don't forget the kid you used to be, so you can better understand and provide for the kids of today.

...Oh wait, I almost forgot! Hey, @jackie-sugarskull! I hope all this makes up for my tease—sorry it took nearly five years!

#mr. krupp #benjamin krupp #benny krupp #baby benny #dav pilkey #cu books #captain underpants: the first epic movie #captain underpants the first epic movie #captain underpants and the wish of the waistband warrior #long #me talking #old!george #old!harold #george beard #george #harold hutchins #harold #crumpled up pages #my writes #captain underpants #cu

[gloomverse-theories]

All for One

or Prisma is a thief of light.

This theory is a bit silly and doesn’t have much proof, mostly because Prisma doesn’t have much screentime! However, that won’t stop me from writing this theory.

Before I explain what I mean, let’s start by going over the basics!

Every human in this magical world is born with a certain “magical potential” that can range from None to Enormous. As Purple puts it,

Each magician, has a different amount of potential. Some magicians can do a lot of magic in a day, and others can do very little. [...], the magician doing the magic is still extending some of their own energy into every trick they do.

Some people simply have more magical energy then others, and that is this magical potential.

Which means that in order to become a Mancer, a magician must be born with a high potential.

Or so you would think.

I have reasons to believe that Prisma wasn’t actually born with the potential of a Mancer. Let’s go over the evidence, shall we?

Sharing Magic

As my first witness, I call Harold Gloom to the bar. Harold is a very special case, because his hat, and therefore his magic, is not his own. As consequences, his hair turned black, and his eyes turned red. Now, THAT’s interesting!

There are many things of interest for my cause here.

The Dark Overlord can grant “hats” and magic to people

That magic relates to his own personality, since Hobo loves candy and Harold has candy magic

There’s an external marker (black hair, red eyes) when your magic is not your own

Harold is also never seen with a wand, meaning his magic is not really “complete”

However, this may have weakened Amadeus. Petunia implies he can change his appearance, but he hasn’t done so in a while. How long? Perhaps, ever since Harold got his magic, at 17. He’s in his mid twenties now, so thats 5-7 years.

It makes sense, doesn’t it? When you share a limited ressource, you get less for yourself. And so, by sharing magic with Harold, Amadeus “lost” some of his potential.

In summary: Sharing Magic with someone is possible, but it has consequences for both parties.

The Magic of the Colors

As said before, when someone messes with your magic in an unnatural way, there’s an external marker. For Harold, it was black hair and red eyes. For the Colors? It’s their entire body.

Their cases is very peculiar though, and almost completely different from Harold, so the link isn’t obvious. However, I think the hidden cause is the same. Someone messed with their magic! And that someone is obviously Prisma. The Colors were her “servants” and she is implied to have “made” them this way. For unknown reason, this color change repeated itself after (each?) generations.

That’s neat, but... apart from the aesthetic, why would Prisma do that? And what exactly did she do? Did she grant them magic, like Amadeus did for Harold?

Well, no.

All the colors changed when they got their magic. So we know one thing: all the colors have the potential for magic in them. Even an inversian, someone with extremely low chances of getting magic, turned Orange. Someone with no potential, so no magic, could never become a color.

However, none of the Original Colors have shown signs that they’re able to use magic. Green and Violet are only seen a short time, but they do not have any kind of hats or wands, while Prisma and the dark lord are both shown with a staff/wand. The same is true for Yellow. There’s nothing in her room that could be a hat or wand. This may just be an unfortunate coincidence, but until it get disproven, it just adds to my theory.

The colors that Prisma originally “created” can’t use their magic.

And as a fun note, the chapter that finally introduce us to Prisma, Violet and Green is titled “Less Than Humans”. This is a phrase used to describe magicless humans in the past. People that can’t use their magic.

The dominating belief, was that magicless humans were 'less then human' and therefore deserved the terrible treatment. This is obviously false, [...]

There’s a lot to be said about the colors, tbh. The fact that they convert the colors of everything they touch imply that they are leaking magic out of every pore of their body. Perhaps because they’ve been “wired” to “share” their magic with the exterior? Magic usually needs the hat to pull energy from somewhere else, but the magic leak that colors have going on is only centered on their bodies. Their hat/wand don’t spread the color, only their body. Since the Magician’s energy is already used in regular magic use, it’s possible that their body is radiating this magical energy/potential at all time instead of keeping it inside.

Prisma the young Prodigee

In Purple’s book, we are first introduced to Prisma by this line from a letter by the contemporary queen of Stratoverse:

I have a very gifted magician in my country [...]

Later, we’re told this:

Prisma was considered to all, as a respectable, and beautiful magician

This is extremely tame compared to how Amaryllis, Malus, and Hyacinth, the first three Mancers, were presented. There is no mention that she is More Powerful than the norm, unlike the others.

Maybe because she wasn’t. Not in the beggining at least. Yet, at the end of her life, she was powerful enough to... broadcast her memories to numerous people across thousand of years. Or something. And stand up to the dark lord in a fight. Probably. We don’t really know what her powers were.

My point being, that Prisma wasn’t frightingly powerful early on like Malus or Amaryllis. She only became a “threat” later in her life, which made the Dark Lord pay her a visit.

Speaking of,

What did the Dark Lord want?

“You got what you wanted... please, spare me...”, this is how Prisma begs for her life. It’s unclear what happened, but the scene is morbid: Prisma is on her knees, surrounded by the corpses of her closest friends, while a magician drenched in darkness towers over her.

But.... what was it that they wanted? Supposedly they ‘got’ it. What is it? They are in the temple and it doesn’t seem like they ever left it, so whatever it is, is something they can get from Prisma, from the temple..... or from her friends.

There’s a lot of emphasis on the Color’s lifeless bodies! They’re impossible to miss, and very peculiar. More importantly, they were the first victims. They died before Prisma, when in all likelyhood, Prisma is the primary target, being The Mancer, The Leader, The Head of State. So why go through her servants? It doesn’t seem like they died while protecting her either.

Amadeus, our beloved dark overlord, doesn’t seem the type to kill people just for fun. This was done with purpose. The Colors had to die.

It can also be noted that the bodies are scribbled over with a light color. Not black, but white. While it can be taken as them severring, it can also be linked back to Prisma, since white seems to be her magic. Could she have been the one to do it? It’s possible that Prisma killed them herself under threat (she IS very attached to Yellow and her future baby, just saying. A deal may have been struck so that Yellow would survive if she killed the other colors herself. Perhaps by severring them purposefully, since she seems to have some control over their magic potential, and that exceeding one’s own potential is what cause severring).

Why did the Colors have to die? This is where all the build up pays off.

CONCLUSION

Unlike Amadeus, Prisma didn’t “gift” magic to the colors. Instead, she appropriated their magic potential for herself. She stole it. Each new color created, each new servant, made her more powerful than before.

She bypassed the right of limits this way, insuring that SHE wouldn’t suffer the consequences of overusing her magic, but that her servants would. The original colors can’t use their magic, because it now “belongs” to Prisma. However, the mutilation of their magic potential changed them, changed their colors. They are aways “bleeding out” magic and turning what they touch to their colors.

By stealing the magic potential of people like Hyacinth or Malus, she would have been unstoppable. Or maybe she planned to do this to all the future settlers. Out of selfish reasons, or out of careless good intentions, it’s unknown.

Killing the colors weakened Prisma. The Dark Lord “got what they wanted” because the colors died. But Prisma could always have made more. Such a dangerous power can’t be allowed. And thus she was killed. Or was she?

After all, Prisma is the new Vriska.

She’ll find a way to be relevant again.

Because she’s a Thief Of Light, and that’s what she does best!

Thank you for reading.

#gloomverse #gloomverse theories #prisma #dark overlord #mancers #color incident #original colors #the colors #mod green

[oddeyevibes]

Chapter 7: Who Knew?

Summary

You knew but you also didn’t know….not anymore.

Warnings? Click here!

Blood.

That’s all you remembered.

Just blood.

Allison covered in blood.

There was screaming.

Pleading.

You had to be shaken out of your stupor by Luther.

The burning on your hands.

The feeling of Allison’s throat desperately trying to function as you felt the perfectly lined wound seal closed.

Her eyes.

Allison’s fucking eyes.

She was still dying.

She lost too much blood by the time you all reached her.

She was dead.

That’s what kept running around your head.

Klaus had pulled you along back into the car. Allison’s body laid across you. Her eyes were looking right at you as tears spilled out of thems

Her hand had clutched yours and she desperately wanted to speak.

You think you urged her not to.

Someone did.

Everything from there to back home is a fuzzy mess.

Reality only setting back in when all of you were sitting in the medical room.

Allison clinging onto life.

Diego fainted.

You were in a catatonic like state.

Klaus hovered over you before he kneeled down to your eye level, placing your bloodstained hands in his. The soft glow emitting from your hands goes ignored in the commotion.

“Glowbug…?”

When he didn’t get a response, he backed away. Once he noticed everyone (well everyone else) being preoccupied with Allison, he left the room.

Ben was thrown off a bit when Klaus walked away but then it turned into a stinging annoyance. Ben didn’t want to leave you like this. He knew exactly what was going through your head.

He looked down at your hands, watching as your fingers were digging into your thighs. While you may not have been here, you were certainly still here as the rapid talking was too panic inducing to filter out.

Ben kneeled down beside you. He knew fully that this would be futile but he still wanted to try it anyway. You seemed to always get rid of the rational side to him.

Imagine the look that appeared on his face when his hand connected with yours. No phasing through or anything. He felt the heat off your body. He looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

“Y/N?” He called to you softly.

Then you turned to him! Slowly, still in your blank state. The most important bit was that you showed that he could interact with you.

He didn’t know how but he wasn’t going to question it too deeply for fear that the universe might try to “correct” itself. Well, as much as it could when it comes to a world where the Umbrella Academy exists.

“Hey Y/N…it’s me…Ben.”

The thousand yard stare faded and you began to come back to reality. Be could almost see the life slowly come back into your gaze. He flashed a weak and nervous smile.

Your eyes slowly widened at the vision before you. A faint sense of deja vu washing over you.

“Ben?” You spoke quietly, almost like a tiny squeak and while you didn’t expect anyone to hear you, Luther did.

Despite wanting to stay by Allison’s side, Grace and Pogo reassured him that they would watch over her but that the very present threat of Vanya still within Harold’s grasp was still very…present.

And while he was ready to follow Five and the others to rescue Vanya, he couldn’t help but catch you in your thousand yard stare. Whether it was his status as number one which gave him big brother energy, he didn’t know but he knew he had to check on you.

“Y/N…”

You turned to look up at him, glancing between him and what was nothing more than an empty space in his eyes.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Referring to Allison’s blood still covering your hands.

He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything, gently pulling you up by the arm and guiding you out of the room. You, on the other hand, we’re still confused about the very present Ben.

“Wait…but—”

“Don’t worry, Grace and Pogo will take care of Allison. I know it might be a little hard to trust Pogo right now but Grace is gonna do what she can. We can trust that.” Luther reassured, still gently ushering you along.

“But—”

Ben stood there, still in shock about you actually seeing him. This was something that needed to be looked into more and from his perspective, he needed Klaus so that’s who he went to.

——✨——

Diego paced back and forth between the couches as you all sat discussing strategy. “The bastard that nearly killed our sister’s still out there, with Vanya. We need to go after her.”

You were still somewhat out of it, getting some of Allison’s blood off helped immensely. Unlike normally, you weren’t really sitting next to Klaus but across from him…just switching between staring at him and staring off in thought.

‘That was Ben…right?’ You thought. ‘But that shouldn’t make sense…because the only one who can see ghosts is Klaus.’

You looked back at him as he nibbled his nails before looking above him, almost like you were expecting Ben to be standing over him. He caught you staring near him, looking back as if Ben was there even though he was actually standing in the corner by Diego.

The glances weren’t lost on Ben though. His going from you to Klaus. Not only were you able to see him but he was able to punch the shit out of Klaus.

‘Maybe it was me.’ He thought to himself despite him being sure that it was Klaus’ powers, he really wasn’t all that secure in that theory.

Meanwhile, the little paranormal activity has you questioning if there may have been other mental illnesses you developed. ‘Maybe I was hallucinating…I think that’s PTSD. I never really thought of that…I mean technically we’re all child soldiers…right?’

“Vanya is not important.” You heard Five state.

“What about Vanya?” You asked.

Diego pointed in your direction. “Y/N, yes or no? We should go save Vanya.”

You looked between your brothers. “Why wouldn’t we go find her?”

“Need I remind you all about the END OF THE WORLD is TO-DAY.” Five stressed.

Diego turned to Five. “You saw his little murder shrine, he wants to lure us out by using Vanya. I say we give him what he wants.”

You shook your head. “Well I don’t think we should go in Rambo style, I mean…we still don’t know how exactly he ends the world. Is he like…a supervillain or something?”

Five eagerly co-signed. “Exactly. Harold Jenkins needs to be our first priority.” Him and Diego having a mild stand-off.

“Then let’s go.”

You went to stand as Five and Diego were about to walk out until Klaus spoke up.

“You guys count me out. I mean, you know, no offense or whatever. It’s just…I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly-sober me, so…”

Diego shook his head. “Yeah, no. You’re coming.”

“I mean, I think we can all agree that my power’s…it’s pretty much useless. I’d just be holding you guys back.”

Five and Diego stared him down.

“Klaus get up.” Five ordered.

Klaus was thrown off. “You can’t make me—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Diego launched a knife at him, intentionally missing his crotch. Klaus let out an annoyed sigh as he got up.

“Then again, a little exercise couldn’t hurt.”

——✨——

The sun had fully risen by the time you all had reached Harold’s house. While you had hoped to find Vanya, you instead found Harold…dead.

All four of you stood over his corpse. Riddled with household knives as well as the sharp ends of other things. Diego summarized that he had to have been dead for a few hours now.

The supposed harbinger of the apocalypse was dead and all that was left was the question of where Vanya was. A sense of dread filling you but you didn’t even wanna entertain the thought that he might’ve killed her before someone killed him.

Somehow the thought that she was hidden away somewhere with only him knowing where she was was even worse to think about.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

“The understatement of the year.”

“No sign of Vanya.”

“Let’s get out of here before the cops come.” Klaus and Diego headed for the door but Five’s voice stopped them.

“In a minute.” He let out a sigh as he knelt down, pulling the fake eye out from his pocket.

You all watched as he pulled Harold’s patch off, placing the piece of plastic in his eye hole. You and Klaus exchanged looks of confused disgust.

“Well that’s gross.” You mumbled.

“Same eye color, same pupil size. Guys this is it.” There was an excitement to Five’s voice now. “The eye I’ve been carrying around for decades, it—…it’s found it’s rightful home.”

“Somehow that’s one of the more fucked up things I’ve heard you say.”

He then proceeded to fetch the eye of the socket.

“Why are you—” you began exclaiming, cutting yourself off.

“We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse.”

“Yay! Let’s go.” Klaus urged, about to walk away before Diego grabbed onto him.

“This can’t be that easy.” Five started getting antsy.

“Yeah, like where is Vanya?” You questioned.

Five shook his head. “Not that. Look!” He pulled out the note. “This is the note that I got from the Commission that says ‘Protect Harold Jenkins’ aka Leonard Peabody,”

“Yeah?”

“But who killed him? Who did this?”

You kneeled down towards the body, taking in the knives.

“The Commission are the ones that taught you to be all Murder happy, right? This seems…excessive. Like maybe they changed their minds about him and just killed him.”

“The Commission trains assassins not…whatever this is.” Five tried correcting.

“Nah…Hazel and Cha-Cha…definitely know how to leave an impression.” Klaus chimed in. “If your little Illuminati gang changed their minds, that’s a good thing. That means all we have to do is find Vanya because if anyone else would know it would be her—”

Five didn’t even wait for Klaus to finish, phasing out of the room but you and Diego were still listening.

“If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the Academy.” Diego reasoned.

“Then let’s go make sure she’s ok.”

——✨——

Then

A deep-seated memory, one you don’t even know you have. Before the barriers that broke your family were put in place by an uncaring recluse.

Vanya was sick.

That’s what your father told you and the others. That’s what Pogo told you all. That’s what Grace reassured you.

“Vanya can’t play right now, Y/N. She’s not feeling well.”

“But she’s not in her room.”

Grace offered you a smile. “Your father is worried that she might make the rest of you sick.”

Not the best choice of words but it didn’t have the same effect that it could’ve had had Grace said those words to any of the others, minus Five, who seemed the closest with Vanya.

Even at such a young age, he wouldn’t have been content with that answer and Vanya’s empty room, he would’ve gone looking for her, and knowing his cleverness, he would’ve found her. It spoke to their budding bond.

But with you, that wasn’t a threat. You would’ve accepted Grace’s word. You should’ve accepted Grace’s word. But the empty room was just…too haunting. How could you have not been more curious? You had managed to sneak away during training. Despite your role as the team healer, it seemed very easy for you to slip out from the corner of everyone’s eyes.

And it seemed even easier to trail behind someone who expected little of you in terms of bold defiance. You somehow managed to float from room to room without bringing attention to either Reginald or your mother and even at such a young age, you knew that if either picked up on your presence, they’d stop you but they didn’t.

You trailed them to a hidden door, a passage that neither of you knew existed. Both of them went in and while you wanted to immediately follow, a nagging instinct told you not to and insisted that you wait. And so you did. Not too long afterward, both of them came back from… wherever they went. Neither seemed aware of you being there.

Once they were both gone, you acted. Walking towards the hidden entryway, it wasn’t even that difficult to reveal and open. You thought you were lucky but at the time Reginald didn’t expect much of any of you in terms of questioning him and then acting on suspicions with Five being the threshold.

If Five wasn’t curious, then neither were the rest of you. Because for as much as Luther held onto his position as Number 1 as a status rather than him simply being the first baby Reginald got, Five was the one with a clearer head on his shoulders. But Five was stubborn and that meant he was a danger in terms of Reginald’s secrets.

But not now. To Reginald, he didn’t have to worry. Which is why you were currently descending a creepy elevator into some lower level.

You were terrified, but deep down something told you Vanya was here, because your father never took you to hospitals like other people, so she had to still be in the house. Then the elevator stopped with a harsh sound, sending a shiver throughout you.

‘Maybe this is a bad idea.’

The door opened only to reveal a long corridor. In comparison to the rest of the academy, this basement looked derelict and it only served to make your worry for Vanya even stronger as you ventured forth.

‘What happened to Vanya?’ Ran through your mind as you eyed the cracks in the walls and the unidentifiable dried stains that you hoped wasn’t Vanya’s blood.

You only stopped when you reached an empty room with a small chamber with nothing but a circular window that allowed you to peer in on your tippy toes and it was there you saw her…Vanya. She was sleeping in a bed that looked less comfortable than her normal bed.

A happy smile formed on your face as you eagerly turned the wheel. Despite its rustic look, it spun with ease. The metallic noise woke Vanya from her slumber.

Normally, Vanya had an emotionless expression ready to greet her usual visitor but a wide grin appeared on her face when she laid eyes on you.

“Y/N!” She was ecstatic as she ran over to you with a hug. “You found me!”

“Mom said you were sick but you weren’t in your room. I was scared you weren’t gonna come back.”

The both of you went over to her bed and sat on it. You started kicking your feet back and forth.

“Dad’s mad at me.” She said bluntly.

You tilted your head a bit. “Why?”

“I broke his monocle during training the other day.”

Your eyes went wide. “Did you throw something at him?”

She shook her head. Her long hair cradling her face as she looked down in shame.

“I can’t control my powers. I almost made his eye bleed.”

The others weren’t too aware that Vanya also had abilities. Unlike the others, they were more difficult to control. Even the fogginess of their adult minds, at best what they would remember is getting new nannies every so often and in the back of their minds they merely came to the conclusion that because they hadn’t gotten rid of Vanya’s stubbornness, they had been fired.

They were never there when you were ordered to heal their injuries. Reginald never even explained how these women got their injuries either but you got through to Vanya about it. It only ever stopped once Grace came along. Vanya even gave you the horror story about how her neck turns all the way around.

“You didn’t mean it, right?”

She shook her head.

“Maybe dad will let you out if you say sorry, right?”

“No he won’t. I’m probably gonna be in here forever. He won’t even let me go upstairs and play. I’m bored down here.”

“Hmmm…maybe I can ask dad if you can—”

“NUMBER 8!”

The loud boom of your father’s voice shook the both of you, launching you both off of the bed to stand at attention. You both watched with fear in your eyes as your father stomped towards you with Pogo causally in tow.

“Number 8…what are you doing here?”

You were too scared to speak at first but you had managed to let an answer come out of your mouth. “I wanted to check on Vanya--”

“How did you even know Number 7 was in here?”

Your eyes glanced from your father to Pogo, who merely looked on in silence. “I followed you.” You answered meekly.

You noticed Reginald’s body stiffen at your words but he was rendered speechless. The only other child that ever saw your father at a loss for words was Vanya.

“You are to follow Pogo back upstairs and you will not speak a word of this to the others. You will be punished accordingly.”

“But--”

“NOW NUMBER 8!”

You jumped at the booming of his voice.

“Come along.” Pogo spoke softly in comparison.

You offered a sad glance at Vanya before following Pogo back to the elevator and ultimately back upstairs to rejoin the others. Along the way, Pogo had you promise him that you weren’t going to say anything to your siblings. You promised him. If you were any older, you would’ve fought back against it but you were young and didn’t know better.

As far as you remembered, you were told Vanya was sick but Vanya told you what really happened. You knew of the basement. You knew of her powers. You knew her location was meant to be a secret to you and to your siblings. You knew Pogo knew and you could probably guess that your mother knew as well.

You knew.

Later that night, when everyone else was going to bed. Reginald and Pogo had sat you down at the dining table…along with Allison.

The next morning…you no longer knew.

#flourescent fic #ben hargreeves x you #ben hargreeves x reader

[tickle-page]

Total Dramarama tickle Headcanons

A/N: Yh… I didn’t know where to start on this.

Cody Anderson:

Lee:

He’s so fucking cute, you don’t even know

His laugh is 10x more adorable then his voice

By that he just giggles, never laughs. Only if you get his worst spot, then he’ll start pleading.

Boiiiii, You better say your prayers if you hit his death spot.

He likes getting tickled, more so loves it to be exact, but he hates it if you touch his armpits.

That’s his worst spot right there.

He’s a 5 on the ticklish scale, he wishes he was more tbh.

Tickling puts him in his feels, like a fever dream.

He’ll ask the other kids to tickle him, and they’ll do it.

The girls usually team up on him, whenever he asks to get tickled.

He may be the one that no one cares about, but tell care if he’s in a Lee mood.

Which is every other day, tbf.

Ler:

He’s revengeful after someone tickles him.

So be prepared to run if you tickle him, or don’t [as].

He’s not very fast, nor is he strong.

He will try to tickle you back tho, even if he enjoyed the moment.

He seeks ppls laughs and attention

He’s not gonna stop till he achieves his goal.

And if he does manage to tickle you back, all you have to do is say stop and he will.

He’s shy when it comes to revenge, but he also has a ler mood, so it doesn’t stop him.

His usual target is everyone he catches.

Since he’s bad at getting revenge, anyone will do, really.

Duncan:

Lee:

Boi, is he ticklish, or what?!

Like the most ticklish kid in the daycare!!

Can we go above the ticklish scale on him?!

And it made everyone’s mission to exploit this weakness.

It’s a weakness Duncan wish he never had.

He hates being tickled, and he hates ppl teasing him abt how sensitive he is.

One little poke and a smirk, and he starts begging.

It goes like:

“Don’t do ANYTHING you’re thinking of right now!”

“Please, don’t do this! I’m way too ticklish!”

“Stop, stopstopstopstop!!!! STAHAHAHP!!! Please!! Have mercy. Don’t touch me, idiots!”

Yeah, he has anxiety giggles, but more like anxiety laughs.

You better know how to pin this bull down.

Hinting to Owen, he’s the only one who can successfully pin him down

Then he calls for back up getting everyone to tickle team up on Duncan

Poor him😞

Not to mention his worst spot is his neck

Twinsies!!!

He’s canonically ticklish, when his parents came to the daycare dressed as cheese and bannas

And they sang a song about him, with a line that goes “We love to tickle his two feet”

Ler:

This boy is ruthless!!

He will catch you and tickle you back.

Wether it be for revenge or not.

He usually is way too busy trying to escape the daycare

So it’s really rare for him to just randomly tickle people

He would also tickle anyone who gets on his nerves

So, don’t. And I mean don’t, mess with him if you wanna live.

It’s a must and a do!

Don’t even test his limits

If he says:

“Mess with me again, and you’ll regret it”

“*Name* Quit interfering with my breakout, or I’ll make you!”

Or

“One more silly remark, and your toast.”

Then you should stop

That’s his warnings

And he’ll only give you one warning till he tickles you.

Don’t even try asking for help.

They won’t.

For someone who is extremely ticklish, he’ll manage to get anyone back who helps you

So they learned their lesson.

Oh, and his usual target(s) are, Noah and Jude, god he has it out for him.

Harold:

Lee:

He’s not ticklish, like…at all.

And even if he was, he knows way too many ninja moves to be taken down by tickles

You’ll have to be on edge with him.

I don’t think this counts as being “a lee”, but I’ll put it down anyways.

Ler:

As I was saying for the lee part, he’s a ninja, so he’s good at tickling people

If you’re hiding from his ler mood, he knows how to find you, and where to.

Under the couch?

He’s waiting on it, to pounce on you when you get out.

In the bathroom?

He’s got that covered.

(Only for the boys though. Gotta be respectful✊)

Basically, there is no spot that you tried hiding, w/o him finding you.

Never.

Ever.

Ever.

He won’t let you go even if you start begging.

But if it’s a girl, he will respect you, and stop.

Though, if it’s a boy, he won’t let you go, even if you start begging.

Sometimes Duncan, or any boys at that, has to call on Chef to help them, and this predicament.

In which Chef pulls him off, sometimes resulting to time out.

Depending on how severe it gets.

Yh, Harold’s not the brightest when he’s in a ler mood.

Jude:

Lee:

Lazy boyo!!

He doesn’t like getting tickled, because it’s such a drag to get tickled

He’s a 10, on the dot!

Idk, it just ruins his vibes.

He’s the second ticklish kid.

Him and Duncan always fights over who’s more ticklish.

It results in Duncan losing, obviously.

They both really hate being tickled, but they also hate being the most sensitive.

It started off with the class crowding the both of them, saying:

“Wow, you guys are so ticklish, Idk who’s more ticklish though.”

And Duncan obviously wouldn’t take that:

“What do you mean?! It’s Jude! He’s the most ticklish, obviously.”

And Jude wouldn’t let that slide:

“Nah, dudes. It’s Duncan, totally!”

And Cortney says:

“Only one way to find out, TICKLE FIGHT!!”

“No way I’m doing a tickle fig-“

Duncan was cut off by Jude pouncing on him.

He knew he was gonna win, so he tickled the other one.

Though, it resulted in a tickle fight, with Duncan begging for mercy.

His worst spot is his knees.

Go for the knees, if you wanna win

*cough* Duncan *cough cough*

But yh, his laugh is very mello, but loud if you do anything to his death spot.

Please!!

Don’t do anything to them😭

I’m pretty sure he’s canonically ticklish.

I see a vid on YouTube abt him getting tickled by bugs, it wasn’t long though.

But I can’t find the vid anymore

And I didn’t finish the show, so I don’t know what episode it was. *Sad emoji*.

Ler:

He’s not one to be in a ler mood, only if he’s trynna prove to everyone that Duncan is the most ticklish person.

Then he’ll absolutely destroy him!

And you bet everyone, including Chef, will be on the sidelines watching.

Making Duncan embarrassed, aging on Jude, making him ruthless

Basically telling him to keep going, if he sees that embarrassed look on Duncan

Maybe Duncan will learn twice before tickling him!

But yeah, if you tickle him, he’ll be way too tired to get revenge.

So you’re safe

Well, until he is in a mood to get revenge

Which is mostly never with his macho attitude.

With this information, everyone will tickle him.

But for some reason, he always makes space in his brain, to tickle Duncan back.

Something abt the boy tickling him, just pisses him off.

Noah:

Lee:

This guy has to be the third ticklish, though he’s not extremely ticklish

Like a 7 at best.

Though, this doesn’t prevent ppl from tickling him.

He doesn’t mind it, but prefers to not get tickled, if there was an option.

Like if he sees a tickle fight break lose, he won’t join in.

But if somebody tickles him, he won’t fight back.

He’ll mostly just beg and plead, like:

“Stohohohop”

“Plehehehehase”

“Please, stop!”

He’s just too busy to be tickled.

Always working on something

That something has to do with being smart😭.

He will fight back if you touch any where on his thighs.

Like the spot where his thighs meet his inner thighs.

Like he’ll do anything in his power to fight back

Mostly resorting to Chef, if there doesn’t seem like any hope for him.

It’s always Owen who tickles him all the time.

Considering they’re besties.

But even besties need to know someone’s limits.

So Owen knows not to touch his death spot.

Ler:

He doesn’t care abt being a ler.

He loves tickling Owen though.

Because that’s what besties do.

They tickle each other!

Resulting to a tickle fight.

Noah likes to exploit his weaknesses, tickling his worst spot, then tickling his least worst spot

“It’s all about strategy, my friend”

As Noah literally goes ham on Owen.

Noah will listen to Owen when he says stop, not trying to be the big b-word to his best friend.

Just couple of dudes knowing each other’s boundaries and limits.

Owen:

Lee:

He’s a 6 on the ticklish scale.

Not as worse as his best friend, Noah, but still giggles when being tickled.

Please, he’s so cute when being tickled

You don’t even know.

Like have mercy on him, why don’t you, Noah?!

Ofc, Noah will stop when Owen says to

They actually have their very own safe word, it being “pizza”

Considering that’s Owen’s favorite food.

Owen loves being tickled

Usually going to his best friend for some tickles

God forbid, he asks anyone else though

Even though Cody asks to be tickled, by literally everyone

Owen will be too embarrassed to even ask someone who he knows won’t judge him

Like, Izzy, or Beth, or Bridgette, or even Cody himself.

He gets all red when he thinks about asking anyone else.

His worst spot is his tummy, Ofc!!

Noah thinks it’s cute when he swirls his finger in Owen’s belly button

Making him shriek and giggle.

But like anywhere on his stomach is a killer spot for him

Ler:

He’s really good at tickling people

Tickling Noah, but stopping when he says the safe word, ofc.

He’s not a dick

He’s also really merciful when it comes to him tickling someone else

Always making sure they have a safeword

Asking if they’re ok in between tickling sessions

Though, if he knows for sure you don’t like being tickled, he won’t tickle you

Respecting your boundaries.

#tickle #lee #ticklish #total drama #total drama tickle #ler #for you

[cobycobsy2k]

Alternative Season 2 Episode 13: "A little fun doesn't hurt, does it?"

Riverblossom Hills, Mcgreggor Farm

Betty was leaving for work in her husband Leod's truck, leaving him home alone with Harold, the family dog.

Leod (Thinking): "I think I'll call Irene, I haven't seen her in a while…"

The man grabbed the home phone, dialed her friend's number and proceeded to invite her to spend the afternoon with him.

Leod: Okay Ivy! See you in 5 minutes!

5 minutes passed, Irene was walking towards her friend's farm and was received by Leod

Leod: Hello Irene! Thank you very much for coming! You can come in if you want!

Irene: Thank you very much for inviting me, Leod!

The two of them entered the house and sat down on the most comfortable sofa in the living room and began to talk about what had happened in the last few weeks.

Leod: And so I've decided to make a small market here on my farm! You should come help me some day haha! And how have you been Ivy?

Irene: Well, last week I had a chemistry exam, and I think I did well, although I don't understand chemistry haha!

Leod: Hey Irene, can I tell you something? I know very well that you like me, is that true?

That shocked Irene too much, how did Leod know that she liked him!? Could it be that someone told him?

Irene (Surprised): How do you know that?

Leod: Let me tell you that it literally shows from a thousand meters away haha, but don't worry, I like you too. Do you want to go on a date right now?

Irene: Well, okay!

The two started playing pillow fights, they were having a great time, Irene couldn't believe that Leod liked her too! Could it be said that they could both be boyfriends? But what will happen when Betty or some relative of hers finds out about all this embarrassing mess that Leod made?

#sims 2 #sims 2 uberhood #cobycobs alternative uberhood #leod mcgreggor #irene thaaroth

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

How is it that there are SO MANY human green lanterns?!!

Like were they just DYING one by one and then being like "ah nevermind! False alert!" And the ring was too fed up with what it had to endure with the last owner so it was just finding new ones instead of getting back to old ones?

Okay so if you want the honest real world reason there are so many Lanterns. It's because when comic creators create their own original characters they can get paid royalties for them when they appear in video games, movies, tv, etc. Why we constantly get new ones while old ones get ignored. Also DC actually pays decent royalties unlike Marvel. Yes I fired those shots, it's true you can look it up anywhere.

But for the in comic answer which is what I think you want and I am the type to answer something like this is earnest, especially since it sounds like you haven't really read Green Lantern stuff here we go this will be a long one.

First off it sounds like the Lantern you are mostly familiar with the origin of is Hal Jordan based off the way you asked this question. Since he's really the one with the person died and left me this ring backstory.

Jessica Cruz gets a ring after someone dies as well but it's an alternate universe Hal Jordan(Harold Jordan from Earth 3) and the ring she gets is not a traditional Green Lantern ring at first. Instead it feeds off the user's fear and since she's a mess of trauma and anxiety it latched onto her. It made her go crazy after first but eventually she was able to control it. She is eventually given an actual green lantern ring though.

I suppose Simon kind of since Hal and Sinestro's fused ring goes to him too after the two are presumed dead. Their defective ring ends up with him, and he's given it during a time the Guardians are trying to wipe out all free will in the universe. But I'm too tired to explain the entirety of the Third Army story-line right now. It's also been awhile since I read that story too. But the the Guardians did not give either him or Jessica their original rings is the point I wanted to bring up.

Now for the others, first off Alan Scott never has been nor ever will be associated with the Green Lantern Corps. His forged his own ring from a meteor, and of course this later gets to be revealed an experimental weapon from the Guardians but he has never worked for or with them.

You mentioning backup in the second ask which I'm only going to answer this part does actually apply since originally that's what both Guy and John were. Guy was the original backup lantern for Hal, but John was chosen when Guy was severely injured.

Kyle becomes Green Lantern after Hal becomes Parallax and destroys the Green Lantern corps. He wasn't chosen for any special reason just one of the surviving guardians went to Earth and was like "Oh a human you can have this" and gave him at the time the last remaining Green Lantern ring. Like not joking the guardian literally says on page "You'll do" to the first random guy he sees in an alley.

I don't actually know that much about Sojourner Mullein to be honest since like none of the Future State stuff really seems that appealing to me and I haven't really touched those characters. I do know she's not based on Earth though like her book is literally called Far Sector.

So basically no rings do not just keep hoping from user to user. a few of the members got their rings from deceased or thought to be deceased members. Most got them because of outside circumstances that required someone else to step up and take the role.

#long post #i'm also super tired

[sobachyakukla]

i like to sit out back & pretend im hanging out with a bunch of alt-leftists in the one world army. its neat. i pretend im hanging out with a bunch of people who laugh at the things i say & i laugh with them, & they make me laugh with the thoughts they beam to my brain & what i beam back is great too. & then we just chill in our little fried people only lounge. see ive made the mistake of making my mother seem cooler than she is to people in my life, all my life. leonid was allowed to stay the night one night & he started playing guitar & she kept coming out to tell him to stop. "i have to work in the morning". i mean, she did, & it was kind of rude to play guitar while someone was trying to sleep. it was wild that we were even allowed to have the tv on playing Harold & Maude. we watched it & when i knew she was asleep i went in my room & got the book of shadows i was making to bring out & show him. i showed him my tarot cards & he like them, told me they were really neat. he liked my book of shadows too. this is right when i was skipping school all of the time. she knew i was. & didn't really care. see thats the thing, she goes along with anything. as long as its not satanic. even though she used to laugh at some of the stuff i would show her. she used to only get like this when she'd come back from going to see my grandmother in Arkansas. now she's fully fuckin' jesus-rific all the time. it could very well be the death of my grandma looming ahead, making it more imperative that she continue impressing her with the lord & all that. but i thought i heard her call me a demon on the phone & it really upset me. i hate when they talk about me being demon possessed. im not. im really not. demons dont exist. im worried about my mother & i being mixed up too. i know all her stuff was gotten into when i was in California & Colorado but my stuff was gotten into long before that. & i dont like it when the disembodied voices overstep their boundaries. or mix my mother & i up. or consider us to be too similar. my mother has been balls deep in the small town church ethic since the 80's. she went almost every day, they raised each others kids. & then i can call myself a liar all i want, because ive had the therapy to combat those thoughts. my mother has not had therapy very often / doesn't let herself accept she has any problems. so when we get mixed up i lose my ability to self-regulate. & start talking down to myself & abusing myself because of how she has treated me in the past. the other day it was more prevalent than it had been in a long time. i dont know, its all a mess. but hopefully this jump will make the right amount of difference. my mother will get physically ill. but i'll be dead & all of it will be over. it will finally be over. also her obsession with children is getting to be too much. & all these years of her saying shit like "i dont have a foot fetish. fetish is a word that means you hate something." & then the memories of my early childhood like kindergarten & first grade / second grade when my dad was letting her come around every now & then but them taking me into the shower & stuff & finding out what it meant to get sick from not having opiates for the first time. & i was just THINKING about my abuse the other night & "oh come on" came OUT of HER MOUTH i SWEAR IT DID but then the next day she told me she thought someone was in the house. its the ghost of my schizophrenic father & he has come to take me to hell. read every hospital note you can of mine, its in there. hes covered in mud & sticks & he is rotting away & he has come here to take me with him to hell. & the voices give me locations & numbers & names of people to hurt. this isn't just my first rodeo, its my only rodeo, its the only bullshit to ever bullshit in my life. its all been leading up to this.

[castle-dominion]

castle 6x20 that 70s show

the 70s episode liveblog

I made my big bro watch this w me bc he's 70s obsessed.

Cement? mob hit? They would have had to weigh him down bc humans float in concrete. Also yeah what do you do? the one u call is the foreman. They deal with it not you. Reminds me of the ep where the police chief constable was gay & buried a body under the station & they found it while

KATE BECKETT I’ll make the coffee. CASTLE I’ll make the omelets. MARTHA RODGERS And I am going to make your day.

Love how the bells kind of slow down & go low & get weird. I mean at least the arch was nice.

MR: Richard, I am simply trying to bring a little pageantry into your wedding. But it seems that the only role you want me to play is that of guest. Fine. I can do that. I LOVE her

You can't make ANYTHING in a wedding a not-over the top disaster.

78 just like my brother's no wait falsettos was '79. disco era my beloved. RC: And a testament to the truly indestructible nature of polyester.

Milt Boyle: Vince Bianchi. Before he turned into the pile of bones you guys found. Love his VOICE

OH OH YEA DET. SANDVICH. OR SANOVICH I CAN'T TELL. HE'S THE ONE WHO SITS ACROSS FROM BECKS. I WAS TRYING TO REMEMBER THAT THIS MORNING. also under esposito's feet, he's at Det veiss(something) or messer's desk I can't tell what it says bc it is grainy & under shadow

Love the music too. Is it black or is it a dark colour? obv not powder blue... RC: It’s like being transported to a bygone era. Mickey the Blade? Louie the Lip? Where are these guys now?

Hey Frank Russo REALLY looks like the guy in the picture who, yk, went through second puberty. Love their accents. 4ksqft is a lot wow. Broke bread, shot the breeze, I love phrases. Harold Leone, as in lee-ohwn, not lee-ohwn-ee like brad leone from bon appetit Love how Becks calls Boyle on her own desk phone bc, well, yeah. Also set design my beloved, we have a pic of sanovich's kid on his desk

He knew things? Yeah ofc, he was the advisor!

Big bro thought that maybe this gal was just wearing Black fashion. Yvonne my beloved Frozen in time? Dumbass clothes? I thought it was cute. Wow it HAS been 40 years almost...

Beckett def not 70s enough.

YVONNE: Harold? You have guests. HAROLD LEONE: Huh? (he comes from the kitchen) Whoa!!! Well, this hot mama can be my guest all night long. He approaches KB and she holds out her hand. KB: Uh, sir, I’m Detective Beckett and this is Mr. Castle. HL: Captain. HL shakes RC’S hand. RC: (corrects) Castle. HL: Oh, Captain Castle. I bet you’re showing this little lady the ropes, huh? Breaking her in, huh? KB glares at RC. RC: Well, actually, um … HL: I mean, have you ever seen a cop with an ass that fine? If this is women’s lib, I’m all for it. KB: Excuse me? RC: To be fair, you do have a very fine … (off her look) never mind.

So humorous I love this man I love everything (but how does he look in the mirror w/o freaking out? it's like 50 first dates) Big bro LOOOVED the house & colours & wallpaper & stuff.

I love Harold & BECKETT SHUT UP YOU NEED TO MEET HIM ON HIS LEVEL. I know ppl who had to chase away spoon-wielding monsters every night for dementia patients, you do it & move on. It's ok.

No body no talkie. he IS delusional! "cupcake"

clipping clipping clipping I love I love I love snookie & ray the red car the absolute mess esposito pulling over ryan (giffing that) it's just... so good I'm insane

YOU MADE A CAST OF THE BODY!? Lanie just there like "what are you talking about?" unless caslte already asked her if she had any bodies to spare offscreen. LP: I’ve seen them do more with a lot less. But I don’t want to be a part of some crazy plan – RC: You have to. Because for this to work, this place has to look like the 70s. (he looks LANIE up and down) And so do you.

I love how the wife is there & he's smoking with the oxygen & I love this. Carcano: What, I’m going to bury a body in my own backyard? Plus, if I had someone disappear they’d stay that way. MC: If you boys have any more questions you can talk to my attorney. (he moves to leave) You know, after this long the truth is hard to find. If I was you I’d quit looking for it. Sometimes what’s in the past should stay there. (THIS MAN IS TELLING THEM TO STOP LOOKING. REMEMBER WHO HE IS: HEAD OF THE FAMILY, HE WAS TRYING TO MERGE FAMILIES WITH BIANCHI.)

OH SHE IS HOT Oh LANIE IS HOT TOO. (clipping) What if he touches him?

No wallet on him? or gun?

My poor harold. Hit you he's really gone? so will you come to the 2010a now? HOLY CRAP THAT'S-- STUFF IS HAPPENING. (castle flailing when the body hand was there lol. also how does that offer ANY protection from the gun?)

JE: *walks in* So I've got-- WOAH. *seeing Lanie* LP: Not a word KR: *talking abt the case* Right Javi? JE: I'm sorry what? *was staring at lanie* LP: !! *rolls eyes* & then that last little "nice dress" to her lil bro said not to clip but OOF I kind of wish I did

Tory my beloved.

Hm, ryan's pants don't match his jacket...

RC: It won’t burst his bubble... if it...looks like the 70s. Ooh she's ranking officer rn lol. WAIT CASTLE ALREADY OPENED A COSTUME ACCOUNT BEFORE ASKING BECKETT IF HE COULD DO THIS?

"let him dig on this 70s vibe" love the music coming in there the morgue was only one room? what about the drive there or the walk into the morgue? HIS MOTHER!!!??? A little bit, yes. YEAH FOR OUR WEDDING! RC: Let’s face it. We cannot let that woman anywhere near our wedding. But … she will love this. And then we get to solve the greatest mystery of the disco era. Besides the popularity of disco itself. It’s a win-win.

his little groove back Abysmal talent pool? Martha my beloved. Rick & his mom are like beckett & castle. Beckett: castle no. Castle: castle yes. Rick: mom no. Martha: YES YES OVER THE TOP YES!

Oh & the music! & I watched an abba parody production the other day before I watched this too.

LMGDAO A HIPPIE WOULD NOT BE HERE WITH THE COPS. Ooh it's a chalkboard! (So they made the photos black & white but... didn't remove them?)

Oh no snookie & ray Martha <3 ALEXIS (wearing that /gen tho)

Why would they need scripts? if they were pretending to be snookie & ray for real they'd need the mannerisms & backstory down, but ryan & esposito have interviewed ppl before. "super groovy" *ryan couching at the cigarette* Esposito frozen with his hands up p& ryan comes in to save him Righteous is in this context, not nec 80s, besides the 70s were from like 74 to 84 yk?

jive turkey again "my god who wrote this?" I love/hate the feathered chief in there

Glitterati? Do they have pagers? REACH BEHIND YOU & TURN OFF YOUR PHONE RLY QUICK, SAY IT WAS AN ALARM CLOCK IN THE OTHER ROOM. the deets? the details?

KR: Actually, it’s been though a lot of different incarnations, but guess what? It’s back to being a 70s club again! Me: WHAT LUCK

I like his nod. "take him to glitterati-- go! go!" *gates*

RC: Captain Gates! I thought you were at a terrorism seminar? VG: It was canceled due to a bomb threat. & did he? Yes! He did! Ryan & Esposito are taking him there now!

Girl your apb thing was not FROM this charade tho "especially you" CASTLE NO DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT THEY TOOK HIM TO A DISCO!

Love the car, love the raming, love the fall, love how esposito was the one who talked ryan into this but now ryan is the one who likes it

Love the dancing & the lights & the fun & the everything! HL: *dancing really well, having fun* Dancing fellow: *also having fun dancing "with" him* HL: Hey, baby. How’re you doing, hon? That’s a nice dress. Can I talk you out of it? (kind of good, all compliments, but wow v forward.)

Yay beckett is normal now. *castle on his phone* they would SO not get his that easy with the gun & stuff. *castle banging on the door*

Always wearing the same suit, it's his club outfit! does frank STILL own it?

*esposito dancing on the clock* he does still own it. maybe that's how it connects to the murder.

HL: Oh no sweat. *SMASH* (not clipping)

I like how he doesn't want to say the year. Also he KNOWS it is not '78 but he might not know the REAL year. "It is whatever year I need it to be" that was a GOOD answer!

"The private event was frank killing him" You figured it out from the time that you got shot at.

rysposito normal looking now "we DO think you killed him?"

Last dance was on the turntable <3 <3

"someone special" we KNOW who that someone special is babes. *lunchbag of evidence*

I think I assumed he stole evidence. Ah the 70s. Gay lovers in the mob in the 70s & this is beautiful. I mean the trauma of killing someone it could totally make you think it's '78 forever. I mean, Harold was also flirting with every woman around. (Maybe that was their thing. You can sleep with any woman, but you only LOVE me) Beard, lavender marriage, his number two...

REMEMBER THE MERGER? MICHAEL CARCANO! He kept it a secret from you that you were going to propose?

for a sec I thought becks was pantsless but it was just a light brown colour.

RC: You couldn’t handle the rejection. So as he left you shot him in the back, then again in the face. You know, because it was personal. Where did she get the gun tho?

It would NOT have stayed that way, these cops would have still solved it.

CASTLE BRINGING HIM OUT TO THE CLUB

YES YES YES THIS IS THE BEST EPISODE she CAN'T disco dance tho. Yay martha & alexis! RC: I’m just glad it covers more this time. Ryan & esposito chilling having fun I love it. (Tho if esposito was born in the 70s he might remember like,, kindergarten outfits. I only remember a few that are attatched to specific memories, like that striped early 00s (or really early 2010s except it was probably a handmedown) shirt I wore during geology in elementary. Lanie is back! & her hair is normal *ryan dancing* Gates I love her I love her (reminds me of that one fic I read, it was good, I want to dance with YOU, not any of these other people who might be prettier than you, because I want you.)

Harold my beloved <3 Last Dance is def going on my playlist.

ldjsklsdfkfjsdkljf GREAT EPISODE PEOPLE

#the 70s episode #castle 6x20 #castle 6x20 spoilers #castle 6x20 quote

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 83

The Rapture/The Sound of Drums

“The Rapture”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean search for Castiel, who appeared to Dean in a dream. Instead, they find Castiel’s human vessel who has little memory of being an angel

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died

I…I forgot that Dean was dreaming. He dreams of fishing? Of peacefully fishing? Kind of cute

Jimmy’s voice is so different from Cas’s. Why does Cas make Jimmy sound like that

Ever wonder how Jimmy, this devout christian man, feels about the fact that the angel using his body as a vessel is gay? I didn’t til now…but I know/remember very little about Jimmy

Poor Jimmy just wants to go home. I get why he can’t, but damn…it sucks

Dammit, Sam. Are you really going to go meet Ruby? And now Jimmy’s trying to leave too?

Oh no. It’s worse. He’s got a FLASK OF DEMON BLOOD TO DRINK. Sam. Cut it tf out

Cas…asked you to boil your hand to prove your faith?? On the chance it wouldn’t hurt you???

I……there’s a lot that could be said about Jimmy’s wife’s treatment of him after Cas starts talking to him. I haven’t pieced my thoughts on it together just yet. WE know this isn’t a mental health crisis, but I can understand why she would think so. Angels and demons don’t have a real place in our modern world even though these people claim to believe in them

Ohhhhhhh she started dating again?? No, but Jimmy’s best friend got possessed….

JESUS, SAM. A little harsh there

Oh this poor family…noooooo!!!! Amelia’s possessed too?? Fuck.

Jimmyyyyyyy. I know this isn’t Cas’s fault but it’s still hard to watch him rail against Castiel. Because he DID promise and that promise got broken

Yikes. Now Dean knows Sam’s been drinking demon blood to get his psychic powers goin. That’s gonna be a fun argument later

Uh oh. Castiel’s been through some kinda reconditioning program in Heaven

Oh shit. Yeah, Sam definitely needs a demon blood detox.

“Been On My Mind…”: No. too much apocalypse stuff going on. 8?

“The Sound of Drums”

Plot Description: When Harry Saxon becomes Prime Minister, a reign of terror begins. But his dark ambitions reach far beyond the stars, and an audacious plan spanning the whole of time and space begins to close around the Earth

John Simms has the PERFECT villainous smile.

I’m not saying I like Lucy Saxon, but, as a lifelong villain fucker, I am jealous of her living my dream

He just killed the whole cabinet

Ohhh, Martha is going to regret not listening to her sister’s full voicemail

Rip that journalist. She was doing such good work, digging up the fraud of Harold Saxon

Interesting that Martha’s dad was suspicious the whole time

I’d love to one day get into Old Who. Get the full scoop on the Doctor and the Master. Because this phone call between them??? Oooooo boy. The first time they’ve spoken since the Time War??? Like…the Master was forcibly resurrected by the Time Lords to be their perfect soldier in the Time War and the Doctor ended it by killing then all and destroying Gallifrey. And the Master ran to the end of the universe. It’s…if it’s all real…it’s beautiful and tragic

Does the Master think the teletubbies are REAL???? (Not a sentence I thought I’d type tonight if ever)

Feels wrong to make every eight year old on your planet stare into eternity. Just seriously messed up

Eugh…”it’s like when you fancy someone and they don’t know you exist” BRUTAL, Doc

Of COURSE the US president shows up for this. Though, I suppose if it’s on behalf of whatever agreement the UN came up with regarding first contact with extraterrestrial life…I dunno still feels eye roll-y that it HAD to be the US president (on our part, not the show’s)

(Did horikoshi also watch Doctor Who?? “He’s a Time Lord which makes him my responsibility. I’m not here to kill him. I’m here to save him” that’s a shoto line if I ever heard one)

Why is grits the American equivalent to tea??? It’s not. It’s really really not

WHAT DOES THAT MEEEEEEEEAN??? It’s a paradox machiiiiiiiiiine

We…we’ve gotta find out what toclafane (I’m only GUESSING at spelling here) are next time, right??

Episodes Since The Doctor’s Last Attempted Genocide: 9

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

You can only hum in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“Hey.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

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

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

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mitch.”

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

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

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mitch...I have to go.”

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

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

“It’s not that simple…”

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

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

“Plans can change, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

#fallinharry10k #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #long one shot #first fic in awhile #pls lemme know what you think #I've missed putting work out #im equally nervous and excited #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #am I forgetting tags?? #can't remember #oh well #def meant to call this keep it forever but forgot #oops #also lots of mitch #bc I love Mitch Rowland with my whole heart

[hiraethenthusiast]

"I love you most."| t.h.

pairing: actor!tom x reader

warnings: floof attack.

synopsis: tom gives you the best wedding you could've gotten. he's in love with you madly, that's what he says.

a/n: guess who wants this? i do. i absolutely adore a loving husband no matter what, and i adore heartfelt gifts even more! i hope you all like this fic, this one's really close to me! tpwk everyone!

listen to clinton kane's i guess i'm in love

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

“So do you, Y/N Y/L/N take Tom as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asks you while you and Tom look at him with impatience in your eyes.

“I do.” You say, making everyone cheer and making Tom smile.

“And do you Tom Ho-” “I do!” He shouts before the priest could even complete his sentence, making everyone at the altar erupt into laughs.

“Let him finish bubba” You laugh along, signalling the priest to go on when Tom mutters a small ‘sorry’ to him.

“Do you, Tom Holland, take Y/N Y/L/N as your lawfully wedded wife?” He asks again, while Tom looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I do.” And everyone cheers once again, and you gently squeeze his hand.

“So I shall now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest says lastly before getting off the stage and as if on queue, Tom sweeps you under his arms and holds your waist before pressing his lips to yours. The moment was wholeheartedly content, his and your parents, both with tears in their eyes, even Paddy and Harry shed a few, because the moment was so pure to just not cry at. Tom kisses you as if he was the luckiest man on Earth, like he had achieved something which he thought he could never. He pulls back to look at you beaming with the biggest smile he’s seen on you in years, and smiles to himself once again.

This was the best day of both of your lives till now, and there was no doubt about it.

After 4 years of being together, Tom finally proposed to you, and then forgot where he kept the ring, but you couldn’t care less because the man you were in love with was now, going to be a forever favourite in your lives. And today, he was now your husband from your fiance, and you couldn’t be anymore happier.

You both settle down after roaming from one place to another greeting every guest that had attended your wedding, finally for a drink and some food. Harrison sits right behind you, completing the duties of best man with all his will, and you smile at him. The twins and Paddy come in a bit later, but your eyes are looking for someone else. Where’s Tom? Your question was answered when you hear the clinking of a glass, just to find your handsome husband there.

“May I have your attention please?” He looks directly at you and you blow him a kiss, him pretending to catch it making everyone laugh. Actors.

“Thank you all for attending and being a part of our very wonderful day, I swear you guys are our favourite people” He says while chuckling.

“Today is the day I married my wonderful and stunning lover, Y/N and in recognition of that, I decided to give you the best gift of this evening.” He says, making you wonder what he got for you.

“I remember when Y/N once told me that she always loves heartfelt and handmade gifts filled with love more than people buying her the gift of her choice. She likes the element of surprise, as she likes to say. So Y/N my darling, I thought you might notice and scold me for it but you didn’t, not even once in this 4 year old relationship, and trust me this is going to shock you. I’ve managed to record every important and goofy moment of our lives, from falling on a staircase to the time I proposed to you, I have it all. I’ve compiled them into one sweet video for you, while your favourite singer of them all, Mr. Clinton Kane sings a song for us! Please give him a huge round of applause!” You jerk your head to the place where Clinton enters from, and he waves at you making you wave instinctively as well.

You look back again towards Tom, who was smiling sweetly at your little fangirl moment and continues.

“I’d also like to thank Harrison and Harry for helping me edit this video, because I’m literally so dumb without anyone of these four with me.”

“Can you put the lights out and start the video please?” He asks one of the workers there at the venue, and jogs up to sit down beside you, giving you a small peck while you take a hold of his hand.

And on queue, the lights are dimmed and the video starts to play. You can hear the faint strumming of the guitar that Clinton is currently playing, but you aren’t able to identify the song just yet. You look ahead towards the screen, and your eyes light up when you see Tom dressed up in his wedding tuxedo, you finally realising that this bit was filmed just a few hours ago.

“Hello my lovely wife! Well, I’m filming this part before the ceremony starts but I think I’m pretty certain on showing you this video after we’re married. This was...boring. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the video my love, and don’t hit me when we get home! I love you so so so much, enjoy!” He says before shutting off his camera, while everyone laughs at his goofiness and you glare at him playfully. The video rolls again and you look forward, but suddenly realise the song. It’s ‘I Guess I’m In Love’, you say to yourself. Tom had proposed to you after a few days when the song came out, and somehow on the night of him proposing, this song was played. You labelled it ‘our song’ and he happily obliged. 

“Haz hold the camera correctly for god's sake...” You hear your husband’s voice and move your head towards the screen, smiling brightly.

“Oh I’m obsessed. With the way your head is laying on my chest.” Clinton starts, immediately soothed by the presence of your lover and the melody in your ears.

“I am holding the camera nicely mate bugger off! Nikki taught me well!” Harrison says in the background making everyone giggle.

“She’s coming shut up” 

“What’s this Tom?” You ask him, as he looks at you like a kid in love.

“Y/N”

“Tom” You say in the same manner, feeling anxious by the second.

“So we’ve been dating for 4 years and trust me those have been the most beautiful four years of my life. I know this is so out of the blue, but Y/N Y/L/N, will you do the favour of marrying the person who loves you immensely? A.k.a. Tom?" He says and you laugh. You hold on for a few seconds, looking in his eyes which were filled with desperation.

"Yes" You say and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. He can't stop beaming and searches for the ring in his pocket, only to find out that he didn't have it.

"Oh I'm a mess. When I overthink the little things in my head."

"I have the ring I promise." He says, moving frantically.

"Tom-"

"I swear I kept the ring in my pocket-"

"Tom-"

"How can I be this stupid you probably don't want to marry me anymore-"

"TOM!" He jerks his head towards you as you shout his name.

"It's okay. I just want you right now." You say and he immediately hugs you, the tightest of them all.

The clip ends and you knew the tears were coming very soon, Tom senses the action and rubs your knuckles., giving you a hearty smile.

The second clip rolls in soon, your eyes brightening almost instantly.

"You seem to always help me catch my breath. But then I lose it again, when I look at you, that's the end."

"Why the hell are we on the top of the Eiffel Tower? And why do you want your phone to crash?" You ask him, while he struggles to make a video with his phone while the winds roar at the top of the monument.

"Because I want to remember this moment!" He shouts, making you smile even more.

"My goof"

"Your goof"

"You're lucky I love you"

"I wouldn't have it any other way darling" He says and gives you a quick peck on the lips, this moment too pure to realise.

"Why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes? And butterflies can't stop me falling for you."

"Now we may invite, a very handsome young lad, who happens to be Spiderman, Mr. Tom Holland!" Harry shouts in the video, while you all pretended to have a grand gala when you couldn't attend Tom's premiere.

He walks in wearing a black tuxedo, his shirt buttons open from the top, looking dashing.

"Thank you for inviting Harold, but please, call the star of today's night." Tom says, making everyone groan about how in love he was with you.

"Patience Thomas. Now may I present, the queen of today's night, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!" Everyone applauds as you walk down the stairs as you hear your name. You reach the door wearing a red and black dress, the clothing complementing your body more than ever. Everyone seems to keep clapping but your attention is towards that one dummy, who's standing like he's seen a ghost.

"..Oh wow." He's speechless, and everyone knows it. You blush at your boyfriend's gesture and nudge him in the shoulder, as a signal to stop staring.

"I hope you all understand that I scored a jackpot, thank you" He sees and everybody laughs.

You laugh along with the other guests, remembering the faint memory from over two years back. This was one of the most fun nights you've had with Tom. While you laugh at the clip, all Tom can do is stare at you in awe. How did he get so lucky, he thinks. He watches how your face glows when you see someone happy on the screen. He truly was blessed.

"And darling this is more than anything I've felt before. You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find. Someone who was worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak. But I know now I've found the one I love."

"Please don't go" You sniffle on Tom's shoulder, asking him to stay one last time before his flight leaves for Atlanta.

"If it was in my hands darling I'd never leave your side." He says, trying to hold back tears.

"It's okay, I understand." You say, pulling back and clearing your throat.

"Awh Y/N please don't cry." Tom tries to persuade his emotions by telling you to stop, but a tear falls down his cheeks in an instant.

"I'm sorry." You say, chuckling lightly, making Tom chuckle too.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I know you will be"

"Please board the flight for Atlanta which leaves at 1330 hours" The flight attendant announces, and you know it's time to let him go.

"Come back home to me soon okay?" You say, wiping your tears.

"As soon as possible"

"I love you" He says.

"I love you more."

"I love you most." You can't argue with that now.

"Bye bubba" You say, giving him one last kiss, a very long one indeed, that left you both searching for oxygen.

"Bye darling" And he leaves to board his flight. You look in the same direction until he disappears and you turn around.

"Harrison, are you crying?"

"No-" He sniffles and you laugh.

You knew you were going to cry as soon as you saw the location. This was one of the hardest moments of your life, letting your lover go away from you for so long, and you weren't ready for that. You wiped your tears while Tom rubbed your hand with one of his, the other cleaning his tear stained face. You look back to see Harrison crying once again, and you laugh a bit at him before giving him your hand for comfort. He really was the best man. You blow a kiss to your family and Tom's, who were currently high on emotions. Even the brothers had tears in their eyes. You really did get the best family.

"And I love the way. You can never find the right things to say. And you can't sit still an hour in the day. I'm so in love, let's run away because us is enough."

The rest of the video were some clips of you and Tom being goofy and so in love, which were a delight to watch. The song played in the background, adding its own special touch, which was necessary to bind this moment together. All these moments which Tom managed to shoot secretly were a lifelong reminder of how much your person loved you. He loved you.

And that is all you need.

The video gets over and Tom looks at you with puppy eyes.

"So, how was it?"

"You're the reason my makeup is ruined and I have mascara stains" You say, laughing while crying.

"That good, huh?"

"That good." You say and he pulls you in for a hug and kisses your forehead.

"I love you bubba"

"I love you more" He says, kissing your cheek.

"I love you most." 

He couldn't argue with that.

"But I know now I've found the one I love."

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

tagging some friends who'd like to read!

@evanssimpybaby @hollandsmushroom @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @leafy-holland @t-lostinworlds

#tom holland angst #tom holland gifs #tom holland x reader #x reader #tom holland and reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #fluff #romantic #wedding #love #holland and co #cute as a button every single one of you #raya writes #raya is a mohmaya

[mxchellesworld]

Attraction and Repulsion 

Harry Styles x Reader

Synopsis; Where Harry is too much of an asshole for a proper relationship but too good in bed for you to leave 

Warnings; mean!harry, arguments, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, impact play, choking, 

a/n; harry styles fans come get yall juice!! ok i wont lie this kinda seems all over the place but i like it anyways. hope yall enjoy and please send some feedback:)

***

You thought it was real funny. It was absolutely hilarious how the whole world saw Harry as a sweet lad who wears big trousers and has fun nails. But you saw him for who he really was. Harry Styles was mean. Plain and simple. 

But you loved it. 

And as much as you tried to deny it, you both knew it was true. You were like magnets. When you weren’t absolutely repulsed by one another, starting an argument, you were wrapped up in each others sheets feeling the strongest attraction you’d ever felt for another person. 

You were always stuck in a limbo of back and forth. Arguments and name calling over the phone leading to quick hang ups and the eventual knock on the door signaling he was there to deal with you the only way he knew how to put you in your place. 

You were drawn to him like a moth to flame. And just like you, he was also too stubborn to admit that he’d want anyone else but you. No matter how cocky he got flaunting the fact that he could get any person in the world with just a smile and wink, he knew he’d never actually do it. 

Under all the petty acts and insults there was the smallest bit of adoration he held for you and you only. 

_ 

You had been lounging around your apartment when your phone chimed. It was one of your girlfriends sending you a link to a newspaper article. You hadn’t bothered to look at the title on the message before clicking on it and seeing the large cover photo on your screen. 

Right there Harry and some model getting cozy after his last show. Big bold letters on the teen magazine reading ‘HARRY STYLES AND NEW BAE???’. You audibly scoffed. 

It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend so you couldn’t really do much about it, you thought ignoring the small sting in your chest. Shaking off the feeling you skimmed the rest of the article then replied to the message, “she is kinda hot, maybe he’ll give me her number lol” 

With that you threw your phone on the other side of the couch and started to get up. It was 3pm a little too early in your book to start drinking at home and especially too early to start letting him ruin your day. 

Maybe it was time to start looking at other people. You were hot and single, living in a big city with other hot singles, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to get in a stable relationship with or at the bare minimum a good fuck for the night. 

So you did what anyone else does and picked up your phone once again, going straight to the app store. Right on the front page was tinder and just for good measure you added bumble. Making the accounts were easy enough but selecting the pictures for your profile was tricky. You wanted a good amount of selfies and body shots. Cute pictures but also something risky enough to catch the eye. 

Soon enough you were already swiping and giggling to yourself about the future prospects you had lined up. Meanwhile in a city about a few hundred miles from you Harry was sitting with a frown on his scowl on his face in the same predicament you were in earlier that day. 

He was in his hotel room packing up and getting ready to head back home when his phone chimed. He looked over to see if it was his manager or someone from crew with any updates on departure times however it was one of his close friends. 

At first he was expecting a sports update or an invitation to go to a bar when he got back but instead it was a screenshot of your tinder profile. When had you gotten that? he thought to himself. 

It wasn’t like he could get mad since he knew he didn’t treat you the best. But that was just your dynamic, deep down you both cared for each other and even then it made for the best sex of his life. 

Looking back down at the glowing screen he swiped through the few screenshots he was sent. Various pictures of you out with friends. The one that got him was a picture of you in the bathtub, your body was covered by the porcelain yet just enough of your chest just was showing in the mirror as you gave the camera your best sultry look. 

Yet the real kicker was the bio where you included him in your top artists. He scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he clicked out from the messages app. Instead he called up his manager to get him on the fastest plane back home. If the blood wasn’t rushing to his face he knew he’d be hard as a rock but for now he’d save that frustration for when he saw you. 

_

You knew tinder hookups were easy to get but you didn’t know just how easy. After spending the day scrolling away, putting your phone down for food and subtle chores you landed a ‘date’, which you really knew was ‘lets get tacos before we fuck on my couch’. 

You had planned to meet at 8pm at some restaurant by your house. At 6:30 you started to get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower, shaving, the works. You had your music connected to a speaker getting yourself excited for the night. 

Who wouldn’t be? You needed this. This was your time to get all dolled up and get to cum from someone other than yourself or the man who makes the vein in your forehead pop when you think about him. 

You put on your sweet smelling lotion and head to your closet looking for an outfit. It was starting to get warm so you settled for a black t-shirt dress that fell to mid thigh with tan heeled booties. You pulled out a jean jacket to put on top in case it was windy.

After finishing your hair and makeup, it was nearing 7:30 and you were back on your couch fixing up the pillows and picking up any misplaced items in case the night led you back to your place. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door, the same hard 3 rasps which only meant one person. 

Your heels clicked on the hard wood as you made your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it halfway, “What do you want Harold,” you said unamused. 

“You look pretty,” he said pushing past you, ignoring the annoyance in your tone. 

“Wish I could say the same about you. Now what do you want? I’m busy and I have to leave soon,” you said rolling your eyes. 

He took a seat on your previously neat couch, spreading his legs and putting his arms up on the back. The way he looked you up and down sent chills up your spine, “What did you get a date that quick? The internet works wonders doesn’t it love”, he said rolling his neck. 

“How did you know abo- actually I don’t care. As a matter of fact I do have a date and I’m meeting him soon so if you don’t mind leaving,” you said picking up your jacket and purse, “Why don’t you call that one girl from your show? She probably misses you.” 

He let out a short laugh before pushed on his knees to stand back up, “Ah I see what this is. You’re jealous and you think going on a little date with some nobody would hurt me.” The cockiness was just seeping out of him. 

“Pull your head out of your a-,” you started before he cut you off. 

“No no you’re gonna listen to me angel. We may not be together but you belong to me. No one else can ever touch you or fuck you as well as I can,” he said leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

It was almost sad how easily he could have you crumbling. Just then your phone dinged. It was a message from the guy, Danny? You couldn’t remember at this point. 

“Answer it sweatpea, tell him you can’t make it.” 

You were really debating it. On one side this could be your chance to finally tell Harry to fuck off but on the other you knew it would be hard to replace him and you weren’t even sure you completely wanted to. That was a whole other layer of emotions to dig through. 

You looked back up at Harry, one of his curls falling into his eyes which were filled with lust. The way his tongue peeked out to slip over his pink lips gave you the answer you needed. 

“Fuck,” you whispered unlocking your phone. Quickly you typed out a half ass apology about your sister needing you to babysit, even though she lived out of state, he didn’t need to know. 

After you hit send your phone was quickly plucked from your grasp and pushed into Harry’s pocket. You didn’t think much about it when his lips pressing onto yours was acting as a great distraction. 

He pulled away lightly mumbling a “taste like strawberries”. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve giggled. 

You moaned into his mouth pulling him by his loose button up shirt into your bedroom. It was a routine you had almost perfected at this point with little stumbling or need to grab onto the walls as a guide to make sure neither of you hit any corners. 

Your lips never left each others in the feverish mess of kisses. Each one making you grow needier and needier. Your fingers worked quickly in trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone. You felt his warm ones wrap around yours halting your movements. 

“Not so fast, you think I’m gonna let you off easy for what you did today?” 

You huffed out, “You did the same-”, again he cut you off. 

“I get to do whatever I want because you know who I am,” he finished trailing his thumb over your bottom lip, slowly tugging it down. All you could do was nod. 

“Say it then.” 

“Harry Styles,” you whispered out. 

You could see his pupils get bigger with each syllable. It was his favorite thing, the power, the dominance. He got off on his own name. But so did you, the thought alone made you clench your thighs as you were in the moment. 

His hand came up and tapped on your cheek, a small implication of what you knew he could do, “You’re gonna have to be louder than that lovie. Don’t worry though I’ll let you try again later.”

He backed you up until your legs hit the bed, pushing you down. You slowly crawled back, pulling your jacket and dress off as he worked on his belt and pants. You made quick work of kicking off your boots and settled into the plush sheets. 

“Hurry up Styles. I think Danny could’ve made me cum at least twice now,” you said sliding a hand down to your panties. That move would bite you in the ass but the risk was worth it. 

You let out gasps at the touch of your fingertips, moving your hips, doing anything to put on a show and hopefully have him give you what you wanted quicker. 

He eagerly got on the bed, trapping you under his knees. His hands quickly ripped yours away from where you needed them most, pinning them over your head. He leaned down, face inches from yours until you shared the same breathe. 

“You just want to be punished don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll help you get it through that stupid little slutty brain of yours,” he finished with a sadistic smile. 

You nodded frantically moaning out pleases. His hand came down on your cheek, the chill of his rings pressed against the now warm skin on your face. His nails raked down until his hand was snuggly hugging your neck. 

You tilted your head back giving him more room to squeeze and mark as he pleased, “Please Harry, want you to fuck me already.” 

He tutted his lips giving your neck one last squeeze before he pulled away. “I think we should work on your patience,” he said moving down to your spread legs. 

His warm hands pulled on the lace fabric on your hips, scoffing at the visible wet patch, “Don’t tell me this was all for old Danny-boy.” 

“No Harry its all for you,” you mewled as he let his fingers swipe through your folds. It was evil how he was leisurely propped up between your legs teasingly circling your aching bud, switching between blowing on it and nipping at it. 

You already felt the tears springing in the corners of your eyes. So little was doing so much. Just a little more and you could cum right then and there. And he knew it too. 

“Oh you better not cum. I’m not gonna be very forgiving if you do,” he trailed off almost laughing. He never let up, quick circles on your bud making your body tense up. 

“Ple- no.. oh god Harry,” you whined out. You felt your juices gushing out of you as you reached your peak. He never let up on his motions, going even faster on your overstimulated clit. 

“God you’re so pathetic. Such a whore you just had to cum,” he punctuated with a slap right on your pussy. 

At this point you were sobbing. Your head was swimming in the pleasure. You tried to apologize but the words weren’t coming together, just broken whimpers and mixes of sorry’s. 

His hand came down on your sensitive cunt two more times, each one had you trying to close your legs but he was quick to keep them open with a bruising grip. 

“Please.. Harry.”

“Please what?” he said taking in your shivering frame.

“Please fuck me! Want you to cum inside me, mark me so everyone knows i’m yours!” you spoke out breathlessly.

Quickly he flipped your over, pulling your hips up so that your pussy was on display for him. He groaned as he swiped the tip of his weeping pink cock over your already puffy folds.

With a long stroke he filled you completely. Your nerves were on fire and he hadn’t even started. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage on his thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Such a good little whore just for me to ruin,” he gritted out. He kept a steady pace, quick and deep making sure to hit your sweet spot each time.

Your nails were digging into the pillows for dear life. Eyes shut closed as your mouth fell in silent screams and jumbled phrases of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was HarryHarryHarry.

“Wanna cum again.. oh my god.. Plesse Harry fill me up! I need to feel it,” you said arching your back further. You felt each vein slide along your spongy walls making sure to clench around him and milk him for all he was worth.

His grip on your never let up. He let his hand come down on your ass cheek. Once again the rings contrasting the heat radiating off of you, “That’s it cum for me baby. I want you to scream my name when you do. Can you do that love? Shit , tell me who fucks you this good? Who’s cum do you want spilling inside you?”

You all but screamed a “Harry Styles” letting your neighbors know just who was with you that night, nights before, and nights to come.

The sweet noises and screams of his name had Harry’s cock pulsing inside you, ready to burst at any moment.

One look down at where you connected and he was sent right to heaven. Your cute little pussy creaming right on his cock had him shooting his load deep inside you.

You both gasped and groaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim. He stilled his motions and you all but collapsed onto your bed.

You felt him lean down once again, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “You think Danny could’ve done that?”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #chellewrites