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1d1195 · 5 months

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Woohoo! I did it! I kept a schedule! Hope you enjoy it!

~5.4k words of a ridiculous jealous Harry hehehehe (oh and I guess it's a little angsty too 🙄)

Reminder: I know nothing about business. I just be making it all up.

Overtired, overworked, and missing his love.

It was a recipe for jealous disaster.

Harry was a lovesick idiot when it came to her. It wasn’t his fault; not entirely. It was almost... involuntary. He had never loved anyone the way he loved her. She was utterly adorable. It was inexplainable. The moment he laid eyes on her, he turned to mush. It was a miracle he could focus when they were in the same meetings.

She knew how crazy he could get over the most minor of things. Or rather, what she considered minor. Harry had a way of making a mountain out of a mole hill. Especially at work.

Especially with Niall.

After that original bout of jealousy he faced, (back when she practically hit rock-bottom romantically with Harry mad at her from being consoled by Niall, financially by a stolen debit card, and mentally between the mean coworker and her family dramatics) Harry really thought his possessiveness and his grumpiness had disappeared. It wasn’t right. Niall was his best friend, and he didn’t want to feel that way. Obviously, he trusted her and of course he trusted his best friend of years and years. Niall was his favorite business partner.

It made him happy that the pair of them got along so well.

Most of the time.

Harry couldn’t lie it sent a pang of frustration through him when they had inside jokes making them giggle without Harry being privy to the fun. Harry knew it wasn’t purposeful. Lord knew he had plenty of inside jokes with just Niall. There was stuff that he had only ever told her. Stuff he knew only he knew about either of them. But he was so in love with her, so completely taken and infatuated that the little green-eyed monster took control of his mind and his involuntary responses before he could control it.

It hadn’t appeared in their life in a really long time.

But Harry was overtired, overworked, and just really missed his beautiful love. With the loss of the big client, he was struggling to maintain a semblance of normalcy. He didn’t want people to fear for their livelihood. As grumpy as he could be in meetings, he liked when people succeeded. It was a good show that his company was good. He wanted his employees to like coming to work. He didn’t want them to get scared or worried that there was problems.

There were people with husbands, wives, children, older family members and even adorable pets that needed to be taken care of and Harry didn’t want to be responsible for people’s financial insecurity. She tried to convince him to take a break, they would figure it out. But he didn’t want her help. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her responsibility to fix his mistakes. He wanted to figure it out so that he didn’t have to disappoint everyone at the company.

So, Harry had spent almost every waking hour (and some non-waking hours) looking and researching for a solution. As such, he had left his poor love alone at night for dinner for nearly ten of the last fourteen days. He was grateful she had Louis and Eleanor to keep her company on some nights. When he was at home, he hardly slept. Waking much to early but plagued with frustration too great to fall back to sleep.

Overtired, overworked, and missing his love.

It was a recipe for jealous disaster.

Niall returned from his weekly meeting with Harry as he had from every meeting over the last month: exhausted and nearly as frustrated, himself. Still, Niall’s frustration presented much differently than Harry’s.

Harry obviously, prone to throwing his furniture and electronics, was a bit angry when upset.

Exhausted. Poor Niall looked and felt exhausted. She frowned as he entered. “No good?”

“I don’t know how you do it, darling,” he sighed flopping onto the couch face first. She frowned and crouched beside him, putting a hand on his back and soothingly rubbing up and down his spine.

“M’sorry,” she frowned. “I thought for sure that one would work,” she had spent almost every spare moment she had also researching every possible solution she could think of to help the situation. The three of them were all so tired.

“If it helps at all, he almost budged.”

She knew Harry didn’t want her help, so she had to be a little sneaky and sift her ideas through Niall. Niall was his favorite business partner. She didn’t blame him in the slightest; she didn’t get very jealous about his relationship with Niall.

“Okay back to the drawing board,” she said.

“Darling, m’exhausted. I’ve hardly had any time to do the stuff I need to do—”

“Like what?”

“—no I don’t want you to do it for me—can we please just do our regular jobs? For an hour?”

She sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

An hour of regular work turned into two hours. It felt well worth it, their minds were finally reprieved of the anxiety they felt searching for a solution to fix Styles Incorporated. They were talking more strategy—now that they were reinvigorated and less grumpy. Niall paced back and forth while she searched at his computer in the main part of the office. Every so often she would throw an M&M in his direction for him to attempt to catch in his mouth. So far of the seven she had thrown, he had caught three, one bounced off his cheek, and only one hit him the eye. They would have to search for the missing one later, when they weren’t so invested in their solution search.

“I think he’s just going to have to fire me,” she sighed.

Niall rolled his eyes as he chewed the green candy while pacing back toward the window. “Yeah right, kitten.”

She shrugged. “M’just saying.”

“We’re going to find a solution. We’ve got to be close.”

“Why are they even leaving? Do we even know?”

Niall stopped pacing and turned to her, there was a sparkle in his eye that she hadn’t seen in ages. But she knew it well. Niall always got it when something good went their way. He had the same glint in his eye when she talked about bankruptcy or the partnership back when she was just a lowly intern. “No... we don’t.”

“Okay, what are you thinking?”

“It’s not the perfect solution. But if they don’t disclose why they’re leaving, it buys us time. They have to buy out their contract,” he said and raced toward the door to head back and tell Harry. It seemed so obvious but with the initial shock and devastation seeming completely forthcoming, it was hard to keep everything together. After thirty seconds Niall returned. “Can you look up their contract and the repercussions of their buyout? We’ll still need a new client, but we may have bought us another fiscal quarter.”

She was already reading his computer diligently, barely acknowledging that he had returned but he knew she had heard.

Maybe she and Harry would snuggle when they fell asleep tonight.

Harry was marginally happier. Marginally. Having a whole new quarter to come up with a solution was exciting in that he wouldn’t have to fire anyone until well after the holidays. It definitely eased some of the tension. But Harry wanted a new client sooner rather than later. In fact, he would like two new clients just so this never happened to him again.

The legality of their client’s untimely departure bought them time to get a better solution.

But that didn’t mean Harry got any more sleep.

Which meant he was still exhausted. Still grumpy.

Still very much missing the sweet girl.

She was so kind to not be bothered by his stress. She didn’t seem to mind them not having extravagant date nights. Harry hadn’t made her breakfast in ages. It hurt him to neglect her, and he missed her. Even though she was right down the hall, even though she came in with tea and coffee every afternoon, even though they slept in the same bed. It was like Harry’s entire brain was consumed with the financial instability of his company.

It was awful.

Which lead to the worst day of their relationship. Worse than when she met Gemma for the first time and worse than when she didn’t speak to him for the days following her job application fiasco. All times, that Harry recognized were caused by him and his jealousy.

So, he really should have known better than to let his fatigued mind play tricks on him.

It was a regularly scheduled meeting, and everyone was well aware there was an issue. Harry was irritable. More so than usual. But they thought the sweet girl was untouchable. It had been that way since the moment she walked on the floor.

Niall all but helped start Styles Incorporated so it was like he was untouchable as well.

Or so they thought.

They were watching a slide presentation. The poor guy was practically shaking worried Harry would eat him alive based on the projections but instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off the sweet girl.

Passing notes to Niall like it was biology class.

Niall smirked winking in her direction. There was a brief moment of clarity in Harry’s head that he was being ridiculous. But he couldn’t help it. He was overtired. It wasn’t an excuse, but it was at least an explanation he had to fend off the idea that maybe his beautiful, sweet girlfriend should have been with someone who was kind and nice like Niall.

When she covered her laugh with a cough at Niall’s responding note, Harry lost his cool. “M’sorry. We’re having a meeting. Are you two quite finished?” He spat.

The color drained from her face, and she looked at her lap like she was in trouble.

Niall rolled his eyes, used to his irritation more than anyone else in the office. Harry narrowed his eyes at Niall briefly, almost ready to make a comment in front of everyone about the eyeroll. But he refrained. He turned back to his presenter. “Continue.”

Harry was beyond worked up. It felt like he was further from a solution than he was even with the reprieve of an extra quarter to figure things out. But as he turned down the hall for his office he was instantly infuriated, by the sound of laughter coming from behind Niall’s door.

Why were they laughing? How could they be laughing? Were they aware that Harry was in over his head looking for a solution?

Without knocking, he ripped the door out of the way. He found the pair of them giggling and throwing M&Ms at each other. They stopped once they saw Harry, visibly fuming at their childishness.

Clearing her throat, she hurried to his side. “Hey, baby,” she cooed softly. “Want some M&M’s?” She asked quietly.

How could they be having fun at a time like this? Was this why she wasn’t more upset? Neglecting her didn’t mean anything because she had Niall. She didn’t need Harry. She didn’t need someone that was angry and frustrated all the time. When was the last time they had sex?

What if they just—

Harry had one shred of sanity left in his brain to keep him from following that line of thinking.

“Niall. Office.”

She looked entirely worried at his tone. His demeanor.

Niall gave her a wink as he left and closed the door as they exited. The moment the door clicked she began desperately searching for a new client. Three clients. Something, anything, to help this horrible situation.

She ignored the yelling she could hear through Harry’s closed door down the hall and echoing all the way through hers.

Her heart hammered violently in her chest. But maybe the frantic search was just what she needed. In the fifteen minutes that she heard screaming from down the hall, she finally pieced together what she thought and hoped was going to save Harry and Niall from another sleepless quarter. Maybe she could book a trip for New Year’s to see Harry’s mom for the two of them.

But as her relief began to take form, the door smacked open. Niall reappeared, looking red-cheeked and totally exhausted. However, his eyes seemed to have a bit of a crazy gleam to them.

She stood from the desk and looked at him nervously, her fingers fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. “What happened?”

He laughed without humor. “Your boyfriend is a piece of work,” he shook his head. “He fired me.”

The blood rushed from her head quickly to her feet making her fingers tingle. She felt faint. She hurried closer to Niall’s side as he started throwing things out of his work bag on top of his desk and gathering his personal affects to replace them. “What?!” Her voice hardly carried, shaking as she tried to process what he just said.

“He fired me,” he snorted. “Whatever. He’s a stupid fucking prick,” he snapped.

“Niall!” She was borderline reaching hysterical.

“Don’t even bother, darling. He’s too fucking mad. Too tired to even process what he did. M’not worried about it. He’s an idiot.”

She agreed with him there. He was definitely an idiot. She would have no problem telling him.

In fact.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Darling, m’saying this as your friend and former boss,” he said with an eye roll. “Don’t go in there.”

“Niall,” she felt like she was on the brink of tears.

“Listen, bought you an extra week to come up with a solution, since he won't have to pay my salary,” he winked grabbing his bag. “Could use a spa day or a rage room.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t stress about it. I’ll just make him pay me more when he grovels to get me back.”

“Niall,” she whimpered. This was ridiculous. The whole thing. She wanted to strangle Harry.

“I know, love. I know,” he sighed and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay,” he promised. “Just don’t go in there.”

She really should have listened to his advice.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” She shouted as she entered the office. She didn’t care who heard.

Harry was pacing back and forth. Another keyboard and mouse set nearly blown apart against Harry’s throwing wall. The computer monitor and a broken vase were thrown in the mix this time as well. “Don’t,” he ground out, hardly looking at her.

“No,” she marched right up to him. She got so close to him that normally if she were that close, he would assume she would be kissing. “You’re acting like an idiot. Why would you fire Niall!?” She stuck a finger in his chest.

“Kitten, you don’t want to do this,” his voice was low and gravelly. He pushed her hand away from him and put it to her side. If she wasn’t so angry and upset herself, she would have thought he was incredibly hot.

“I shouldn’t have to do this! Why would you fire your best friend?”

“Some best friend,” he snarled.

She blinked. “What is the matter with you?! I know you’re stressed but—”

“Do you?” He practically sang it. It was so mocking. It was an awful tone. One she never heard directed at her. One she escaped her entire internship. Her blood felt like sludge trying to get through her veins. Her face warmed at the sound of his voice. Like she truly should have known the reason he was so upset—as if it wasn’t obvious. Like she missed something. Had she missed something? “If y’know m’stressed, why are y’passing notes in meetings? Playing with M&M’s?”

She may have been frustrated by Harry’s tone directed at her, but that didn’t mean she was going to back down. Niall told her he needed to be yelled at more and she might get teary, but she was frustrated too. She missed her boyfriend. She missed his snuggles and his kisses. But the idea that Harry was once more worried about her and Niall...

“You can’t be serious,” she asked in shock. “Are you...jealous?”

He didn’t like the way she said it. He didn’t like hearing it out loud because he knew it was ridiculous. The entire screaming match with Niall, he knew it was ridiculous to say he was going to fire his best friend. His favorite business partner. But he couldn’t help how he felt. The way she and Niall worked so well together. They were always finishing each other’s thoughts and ideas. It was like they shared a brain.

“M’not fucking jealous,” he snapped.

He should have just told the truth. She shook her head rubbing her temples with her fingertips. “I could—”

“You could what, love? What could you do?” He interrupted her again with the mocking tone.

“Harry, you’re being—”

“Just fucking go!”

“I’m not going to go just because—”

“Why don’t y’go make sure Niall is alright. S’obvious that y’care about him more.”

Fortunately for her, she had enough wherewithal to recognize the turning point of her anger. She was going to leave before she said something she regretted. Something Harry was obviously incapable of doing. She straightened her spine. Her shoulders heaving with her frustrated breath. He couldn’t help but notice the tears welling in her eyes. She turned without another word and slammed his office door shut for good measure.

Harry may or may not have punched a hole in the wall above the pile of debris he created.

Within fifteen minutes, his phone began ringing incessantly for nearly all of the next hour. But he ignored it—he ignored his office phone, the email pings, and skipped the meeting where he was supposed to be meeting a potential client. He was glad it wasn’t a major client like the one he needed. He wasn’t sure he could fake enthusiasm about his wonderful company at a time like this. He tried and failed to meditate. He just wanted a little bit of give. Just to get some kind of good energy back into his body. All he felt was anger. It was in every inch of his blood making his muscles shake.

He had his head between his knees, hands behind his head like she had Harry do when he told her the bad news.

His peace lasted a mere three seconds.

His door smacked open.

Harry glared up at Niall and his interruption. “What are y’going t’beg—”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Louis had to call me after you didn’t answer. The girl that you say is the most precious girl you’ve ever been so lucky to have, got in a car accident and you didn’t answer your fucking phone, you prick,” he grabbed Harry’s phone off his desk and threw it at him. Harry’s body processed the words before his mind did. With shaky hands and digesting the words his friend was saying, he read the missed calls from Louis, Eleanor, and even Niall.

Harry felt like Niall smacked him even though he was nowhere near him. His heart skipped a beat. The neurons in his mind began working in overdrive. “What?” He whispered.

“Jesus Christ. I have to take you to the hospital. Let’s fucking go!”

Harry didn’t even grab his work phone. He hadn’t left it in the office once in the eight or so years he owned his company. Instead, he was sprinting to the car. “What do you mean car accident?” He asked slamming the door shut, barely buckling himself in as Niall got behind the wheel sped off into traffic.

He explained the very minimal details that Louis had passed along. They didn’t know what was wrong exactly as no one was able to get to the hospital fast enough before she was sent off. They were running all sorts of tests, and she needed surgery. That was the extent of their current knowledge. But they didn’t know what the surgery was for because no one knew as there to receive the information.

Harry felt worse than ever. Worse than he felt for firing Niall. Which albeit he hadn't really had time to process how bad he felt about that.

“Niall, drive faster.”

“I’m going as fast as I can, the last thing she needs is us in an accident too,” he growled.

“Faster,” he snapped.

“Quit being a dick! What are you going to do fire me from being your friend?”

“Niall!” He was so fidgety in Niall’s front seat. If they hit one more red light, he was going to jump out and run to the hospital. It was clear he was losing his mind. If he wasn’t careful, he would be admitted under a psychiatric hold the moment they entered the ER.

As worried as he had been about his company, he was anxious about the girl threefold. He was so scared to see her. Worried about how broken she might be. If she was in surgery, he would die—he was certain. How could he not be her emergency contact?

Louis was going to kill him.

It was too much. Too much, all at once.

“Pull over!”

“Pull over?! What’s the matter—”

“Niall pull the fuck over!”

He practically spun out coming to the shoulder of the road. The car was barely parked when Harry threw the door open, and his stomach released the frustration of the last month and a half with the contents of his lunch. Niall rolled his eyes tapping on the steering wheel while he waited for Harry to right himself. The moment the door shut, Niall was back on the road. They were silent as they sped the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

Niall was the only one with enough brain cells to have asked Louis for all the directions to the correct waiting room. So, it was Niall that practically shouted them out as Harry ran ahead to find the sweet girl.

Eleanor was handing Louis a cup of tea as he bounced his knee impatiently. “Louis,” Harry said quickly.

Louis didn’t even look at him. “You’ve got some fucking nerve,” he shook his head. Harry could feel the distaste leaving his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. He felt utterly guilty. Completely useless.

“Yeah, I bet,” he grumbled.

“Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. She turned to Harry. “Hi Harry, hi Niall,” she smiled sweetly as Niall filed in beside Harry. “She’s okay,” she promised. The relief he felt was immeasurable. He was lucky there was an open chair for him to fall into with the weight disappearing too quickly from his shoulders.

“She’s not okay,” Louis snapped. “Why was she leaving in the middle of the work day—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Louis, it’s not that deep. Accidents happen.” But Harry knew as well as Eleanor why Louis was so nervous about her being in a car accident. “She’s got a guardian angel looking out for her and she drives one of the safest cars on the road thanks to Harry. You all need to take a Xanax.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Niall asked. Between Louis and Harry, neither seemed well enough to have any sort of grasp on the situation. Harry nearly forgot he was supposed to be the one asking. Louis glared at him. Like he knew there was more to the story. Maybe he wasn’t wrong.

“She was pretty shaken up, I guess. Lost her phone. Hit her head. She’s getting surgery on her left arm, a pretty significant break. Low grade concussion and a cast. I think she got off easy,” Eleanor shrugged. “They’ll let us see her once she’s in recovery.”

Harry rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Good,” he sighed.

Louis snorted.

“Louis. Accident.” Eleanor repeated. “Zip it.”

The four of them sat in silence.

Due to the nature of the room, only one person was allowed in recovery at a time until a bigger room opened up.

Louis rolled his eyes at the news and turned to look at Harry. “You first.” Harry blanched immediately. Niall bounced his knee sitting beside Harry. He was silent the entire time. Harry didn’t think she’d want to see him after the horrific display of the person he was today. “M’not saying it again. You go first, or I’m never coming out of there if I go first,” Louis promised staring off into the distance. Harry knew he wanted to see the sweet girl as much as he did. It was kind of him to offer Harry first look even though he was mad.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and squeezed Louis’ hand. “Go ahead, Harry. She’ll want to see you,” she smiled encouragingly. Harry didn’t know if that was true.

His nerves were tightly wound as he entered the room to find her sleepy form curled on the bed. She was half on her side, her arm in a white cast beside her face and pretty lashes fluttering as she woke from the anesthesia. She did look okay. Other than the broken arm.

“Hey beautiful,” Harry whispered gently.

She glanced toward his voice and immediately burst into tears. “Harry,” she whimpered.

“Oh, kitten,” he cooed coming to crouch beside her bed and he pressed a hand to the side of her face and brushed the tears away with his thumb. “Are you in pain, m’love?” He asked, feeling so horrible he wanted to trade places. He wanted her out of the hospital bed. Out of the cast. “I’ll call for—”

“No,” she croaked. She swallowed and sniffled miserably. Her sweet face crumpling with anxiety and sadness. Her eyes were so glassy, and he knew she was still swimming with anesthesia in her veins. “I wrecked your car,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry thought he might die. He hoped to God, that was the anesthesia talking. If she thought he would care more about a car...he couldn’t even think of the rest of the sentence.

He shook his head. He felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he looked her over. The sweetest, best thing that had ever happened to him. “Baby, absolutely not what m’worried ‘bout,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping to ease her weary mind. “I’ll get you a million cars. I don’t care. S’only you. You are what matters right now,” he promised.

Her mind was a little loopy and airy, but it looked like Harry was staring at her as if she was the one that made the sun rise every morning. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I know Niall and I—”

Harry felt the need to throw up again. He shook his head, aching for her to stop. “Not now, beautiful,” he ran his thumb along her lip to silence her. “Jus’ want t’focus on you. Y’don’t need t’apologize at all.”

She nodded, still glassy and wide-eyed. “Do you hate me?” She asked.

The poor thing was breaking his heart with every sentence. “No, angel, of course not,” he smiled at her sadly. “I love you, so much.”

She sighed with relief. “I love you too,” she murmured.

“We’re waiting on a bigger room, but Louis wants t’see y’next. I’ll be right back, yeah?”

She nodded, starting to return to herself. “Okay,” her loopy mind answered. “I have a cast.”

“I know, kitten.”

“Will you sign it?” She asked so sweetly. It was adorable. Harry felt at ease for the first time in ages even though he was distraught with worry.

He smiled from the doorway. “Of course, love.”

“Louis, I have to go to work in this. Don’t you dare draw a penis,” she warned, the marker in Louis’ hand poised over the plaster.

He rolled his eyes. “Ruin all the fun.”

“Did you bring your laptop?” She asked Harry, while Louis drew on her arm.

“No laptops for at least a week, babe,” Eleanor smiled sweetly. “Concussion, remember?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t do that!” They all scolded at once.

She sighed, closing her eyes to refrain from rolling them again and potentially inciting a headache. Niall was on the phone with the insurance company pretending to be Harry. They found out that she was hit in the middle of the intersection—someone running a red light. It was pretty open and shut. But not something anyone wanted her to worry about and fortunately, Niall knew almost all of Harry’s needed information.

“Well, can you please use it and look at what I found?” She asked Harry by her other arm.

“Didn’t bring anything, kitten. M’sorry. Was worried ‘bout you.”

She blew and exasperated breath between her lips. Louis smirked. “Are we sure she has a concussion?”

Niall was looking at her curiously as he was on hold. “What did y’find, darling?”

“A client.”

Harry ignored her and glanced at Niall. She wasn’t supposed to be involved with the search—he didn’t want her worrying. It wasn’t her responsibility. “Well...we can discuss it next week, love.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Harry, I’ve been giving Niall all my ideas to pass off to you because I know you don’t want me worrying but we haven’t had dinner together in nearly two weeks and I can’t remember the last time we watched a movie. I found a solution and it’s on my computer and I need you to look at it, hire Niall back, so you can stay home for the week and wait on me while I get over the concussion,” she ordered. No one spoke while they let her directions settle over them.

Louis capped his marker, admiring his handy work: his block letters taking up almost the entirety of her arm. “Definitely faking,” he smiled.

Without the IV drip, the pain in her arm came back significantly. She felt tired; physically and emotionally. She couldn’t imagine how Harry felt, yet he was carrying her into their house. “Will you sit with me?” She asked quietly.

God, Harry would break his own arm just to match her if she wanted. “Yes, love,” he murmured. “Do y’want some medicine, water?”

She shook her head. She probably did need more medicine, but she just wanted Harry. “Just you.”

Harry would kill for her.

He sat on the sofa, her frame curled in his lap. With her head on his shoulder, her cast weighing heavily in her own lap, she sighed contentedly. “M’sorry about today.”

“Please don’t apologize, kitten. S’all my fault.”

“I know how stressed you’ve been—”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“But you have to know that Niall—”

“Kitten, don’t you...want someone like Niall?”

She shook her head rapidly. Trying to understand the words that he just spoke. “I’m sorry, I think my concussion gave me a stroke. What did you just ask me?”

He sighed, closing his eyes, and rested his forehead against the side of her head. He was so glad she was okay. He can’t imagine what he would have done if the last thing he said to her was something about how she didn’t care about him. “Niall doesn’t yell at you. Or neglect y’when he’s stressed. He can catch M&Ms in his mouth.”

She laughed quietly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Do you remember coming out of anesthesia?”

“I remember asking why they sent Louis in before you.”

He smirked. “He must have been pissed.”

She smiled. “It was amazing.”

“I went in first. Y’were probably too loopy t’remember... y’apologized for wrecking the car.”

“That does sound like me,” she nodded in agreement.

“Kitten,” he sighed. “There’s one and only one of you, m’love. I would lose m’mind if something happened t’you. A car means nothing t’me.”

She kissed his cheek. “I love you,” it sounded like a vow.

“Say it again,” he answered nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck before pulling away and looking at how pretty and whole she was.

Giggling, she bumped her nose against his. “I love you,” she repeated.

“Even though m’jealous of m’best friend?”

“Yes, you silly, crazy baby; did you rehire him?”

“M’giving him a spa day tomorrow. Then he’ll be back.”

“You’re an idiot,” she giggled.

“So, I’ve been told.”

“But you’re all mine,” she sighed dreamily, leaning in for a kiss. "Wouldn't have you any other way."

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #ceo!harry #sugardaddy!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing

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beanyboobee · 3 months

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Random theories of mine:

1. What were the Archvisites?

2. Teachers out here scheming

3. How does vanitas die?

What were Archvisties to vampire society? I keep wondering that because I find it so curious how so very few people actually know what they are, and the only ones we have seen who know right away are count orlock, chloe and Ruthvan, all high ups in vampire society, while those of lower status, aka count Orlocks servents, Jean Jacqes, didn't know until they were told.

Surely if Archivistes were well known their massacre would still be remembered as it wasn't that long ago [if we go by Noes age] but yet the servent of Orlocks who does know what an Archvisite is, refers to the massacre as happening 'long ago'

Concidering how long some vampires live, isnt it odd for them to refer to something not even 20 years old as a long time ago ?

We also know Archvisites are differant to regular vampires, as Dominique claimed vanitas wanted to use noe for his unique abilities, (abilities not just ability to see memories), how it (presumably) took longer for chloes potion to kick on for him

Not to mwntion- SPOILER FOR THE LATEST CHAPTER CHAPTER 61

how Noe is already starting to recall what Ruthvan did to him, which shouldn't be possiable if Ruthvan is more powerful than him.

Moving into another theory that I mentioned before but I keep finding more and more proof for,

I think EVERYTHING since the beginning has been planned by teacher, everything, not just the small things. From him just os happening to find noe at an auction, as far as we know the teacher didn't have any others in the mansion so he just so happend to go to a human auction and find the last remaining archvisite? As we know noe added that the vampires who kidnapped hom mistook him for a human?

It was almost as if Noe was the main peice of the story the teacher wanted to see play out. Not to mention in Domiques first appearance she says this-

Who told her where Noe was? Realistically how would anyone know that Noe was with count Orlock? Unless count orlock told someone and it got passed on? But the only person who knew noe was in Paris was the teacher.

The teacher sending a letter to count orlock with Noes full name and asking him to help Noe with anything he needs is also weirdly suspicious because there was no need to give out Noes full name unless he knew the effect it would have.

I am also of the mindset that everything happening is a timeloop, of this situation has played out time and time again, from the conversation lady Archvisitie and the teacher have in Chapter [ 58]

That his excitement at Noe coming with him, "Yes I am having fun because you came with me" implying Noe had a choice not to come, and as we know Teacher loves throwing around the word "choice" an awful lott.

If it is true abiut this being a time loop or some sort of time shenanigans, Noe could be the slightly differant thing Lady Archvisite and Teacher discussed in chapter [58 and 59 ]

One small "choice" can change the entire direction of a story after all.

Also final theory, Vanitas Dies by Noe not grabbing his hand when crossing the portal, I'm still of the mind the story will end with Atlus crumbling. And Vanitas will be trapped in the middle world because Noe didn't grab his hand. Why? Simple, I like to think this scene is foreshadowing

Noe keeps moving between saying- he killed vanitas by his own hand, and, he regrets not grabbing his hand that day, the death of vanitas won't be this big and major gruesome thing like we are led to beleive but rather him being stuck in a void, as it would also explain vanitas saying this during his 'death'

As we know Noe is an unreliable narrator, he blames himself for alott of things that happend, and tends to overexagerate how much of a part he played in the tragedy, as we can see during the whole Louis situation, he holds alott of regret and blames himself for it to the point even years later Domi has to remind him it wasn't his fault, so by him saying he killed Vanitas by his own two hands, it could be something as simple as him- being unable to catch vanitas in time. Or hesitating before holding onto him because Vanitas might of been the to let go.

There was enough of time between Vanitas dying and Noe somehow being the cause of it, for Vanitas to give him the reassurance that he won't die that he just won't be apart of this world,

It could of been said in a similar fashion to how Jean jauqes forced Noe to drink his blood so someone would remember hom and chloe, because if we think about it in that sense. He could of meant he won't die because Now will always be around to remember.

Making Vanitas a figure similar to the shapeless one or lady archvisite; who mainly seem to operate and live in the between world.

#myart #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas #vanitas anime #vanitas no carte manga #vanoe #vanoe fanfic #memoir of vanitas #les memoires de vanitas

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nalyra-dreaming · 3 months

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Heyyy

What are your thoughts on religious symbolism or just religion in general in the story? Cos I started reading the books and was really surprised by how much the characters GET INTO IT lmao it’s really present in the story in a way the show mostly shied away from after the first episode I think, other than a couple exceptions it was mostly not explicit except a few references to hell.

Sooo I’m pretty hyped seeing some crucifixion imagery in season 2, I suppose I makes sense that Louis would be having a religious reckoning after losing lestat, and Armand is a character really defined by his faith so it will be interesting to see how deep they go with it. What are you hoping to see?

Hey!

Yes, there is a LOT of religious symbolism in the books (Anne struggled all her life with it, and that is threaded through). Lestat (and others) has a rather complicated relationship to the divine. In Memnoch he literally encounters God, and drinks his blood. Lestat is often likened to Christ in the books, something the show has obviously picked up on. After his ordeal with Memnoch he is bound and raving mad before he quiets into a coma, in a chapel.

(Young Lestat wants to become a monk/priest, prays to be released from his abusive family, shivers at the vicious futility at the Witches' Place.)

We have other characters who come from a vastly different backgrounds, too, like Marius in pre-Christian Roman Empire, or in the extreme (in a way) Akasha and Enkil in ancient Egypt, building themselves up to (Blood) Gods. For example.

The show has given Armand a muslim background, Daniel might have yet another one, maybe jewish.

I do not actually think they're shying away from all that - but they are giving themselves time to reach the important points here... and, of course, season 1 being told by Louis, put the focus somewhere else, because Louis actually did not wish to think about all that too deeply. Or, better, address it.

Now Louis obviously believed ... enough. Enough to feel deeply and utterly tortured about it all. I think that is true for book and show, and the show has taken the book comment and made it literal:

"What would Christ need have done to make me follow Him like Matthew or Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered yellow hair."

Louis goes and runs to church when all else fails, in desperation. He kills the priest there, in the book.

Louis... will lose his faith in god, or, maybe better, switch it over to Lestat as his god, book canonically. (And he struggles with this, for a long time):

"He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god."

Armand has also spoken of "I serve a god", which might be a callback to the events surrounding Memnoch. And, as you say, he is deeply defined by his faith. It will be truly interesting to see where they go for it in the show - how they go for it.

Of course the image of Lestat as if on a cross is imbued with meaning.

Louis himself later mediates on the fact that he "hated Lestat for the wrong reasons", and that the feelings that Lestat arouse in him did not have "hatred among them".

Lestat has been murdered, for sins he did not commit(*).

(*)Of course there is plenty to say about that - and Lestat himself never blamed Claudia! - but that which they (ultimately, simplified) hated him for... was not his fault, not really. Vampirism never freed any of them, it simply could not, and Claudia didn't have a choice in any case... and eternity is a long time to build up emotions. Or hate. (Or forgiveness.)

And so Lestat as Christ on a cross... calls back to that, in Louis' imagination.

So what I hope to see... hmm.

I don't think they'll put Memnoch into the show. I think if anything then Memnoch or a Memnoch-like event has already happened.

I hope... that we will get to see the characters struggling with their faith - or lack of it. I hope that we will get to see Lestat destroy the Parisian coven and the satanic cult there. I hope that we will see Armand struggling to find something to hold onto (and find it!). I want Louis to free himself from the shackles of catholic guilt, whether they go book canon or not. I want Lestat to make his peace with the Witches' Place and the futility of it all, the "dark" moment. I hope that we will see characters reflect and mirror the perceived truths of faith - and destroy the preconceptions.

I want all that.

I hope for all that :)

We'll see if they dare, but... I'm carefully hopeful^^.

Oh yes, and at the end... I want them to find their peace in their own religion, as in the books... their "Blood Communion".

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #religious symbolism #religion #christianity #book quotes #blood communion #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt

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zombie-bait · 2 years

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Book + show spoilers, beware

The Loustat relationship is so broken, I love it to bits. I love how you can see both of them slowly isolate themselves after Claudia; Louis by refusing to acknowledge or spend time with Lestat, Lestat by running away to Antoinette and refusing to share any part of his past. Lestat is viciously cruel in the latest episode, but it’s clearly as a culmination of dedicating entire decades of your life to a partner who never even says they love you. A partner who’s seemingly ashamed of every part of your relationship, a partner who has effectively found a replacement for you. Lestat’s greatest fear of loneliness is coming to fruition before his very eyes. Does that justify his actions? Definitely not!! But at the very least his deep-seeded bitterness is understandable. At the same time he’s the one at fault for driving both Louis and Claudia away from him. His untreated trauma, his reluctance to properly educate his fledglings and his hatred for humanity as a whole all create a larger wedge between the three of them. Lestat’s stubbornness and unwillingness to change traps them all. He’s learned all he can about vampires and he’s come away disappointed, so he refuses to acknowledge the understandable curiosities that plague Louis and Claudia when it comes to their origin. The world has been cruel to him in many ways so he refuses any opportunity that has any chance of leading him down the same path.

Louis is also working against their relationship, though to a far less destructive degree. He lives in Lestat’s house, reads his books and shares his room but barely speaks to him. He ignores any olive branches that Lestat offers him, giving no effort to work on their relationship (though in all fairness at this point it’s quite broken). And then… the swamp bbq, which hasn’t happened yet on screen. Tv show Lestat is markedly more violent towards his two companions than he was in the books, which definitely makes them jump to cooking him a lot easier of a conclusion to make in the show. Going off the books alone, we know that Lestat would never kill Claudia or Louis, which factors into their scheme against him being such a betrayal. Because the show has so many deviations already, it’s hard to know what else they might alter about his intentions though. You also have to wonder how much of this is truthful and how much Louis is playing up as the narrator. It’s a question constantly brought up in the show that will (hopefully) lead to some challenging alternate perspectives from Lestat in later seasons.

You end up with this complete mess of a relationship, where both parties refuse proper communication due to their past traumas, which will only lead to more pain on either side. There are years of love between them, just as there are years of resentment too. Neither lives the life they want but neither wants to live a life without the other. They’re at a stalemate and Claudia is the one who violently forces them out of it. And in a rather cruel twist it’s Claudia’s death that unites them, along with decades of separation where they have time to self-reflect and live with their regrets. I’m so excited to keep seeing this toxic hellscape unfold ❤️

#iwtv 2022 #iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #loustat #iwtv claudia #toxic marriage ❤️#vampire chronicles #iwtv amc

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philtstone · 2 months

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Taylor Swift prompts! 5 for Anne/Aramis

#5 -- once upon a time, a few mistakes ago on a whim i returned to my old constance owns a small town inn au today and i thought what better way of filling this prompt than sharing an excerpt from the yet-unpublished chapter 5, "what happened to anne and aramis", which was meant to be a flashback sequence after the very dramatic late-night reveal that theyd slept together its very unlikely that ill ever be able to finish this fic, but i do love it so much.

For all the goodness in his heart, it must be stated that René Aramis d’Herblay has been, and always shall be, the sort of young man who very frequently makes mistakes. This is not his fault, necessarily, nor can it be said that these mistakes are those of the Earth-shaking, life-destroying variety. Most, indeed, are fairly mundane, and have to do with simple things such as his daily intake of caffeine (too high) or the average hours of sleep he manages per night (too low). But perhaps the greatest mistake Aramis has made thus far in his life is not his childish impulse to neglect his piano lessons at the age of ten, nor his impetuous decision to join the army at age nineteen, nor even the stubborn insistence that he use his middle name as his first. In fact, some might argue that this last point was a perfectly allowable decision, though anyone who knows him could testify that the René suits him just as well, if not more, than Aramis ever has. No -- the greatest mistake Aramis makes in his youthful twenty-eight years on God’s green Earth is that he never once takes his father’s oft-repeated advice, and makes nearly all of his decisions with emotion, rather than logic.

Now, it would be remiss of the narrator not to point out that this is not a trait inherently faulty. Indeed, a young man of Aramis's education and reading might breeze through most of his life making decisions that are blessedly the correct choice despite their emotional backing, for a strong ideological basis, borne of a broad and illustrious education, is generally helpful in internally nudging a person’s mind in the right direction. Aramis, whatever other faults he may have, possesses this ideological basis perhaps unusually strongly for a young man his age.

Ana Maria Mauricia de Bourbon is not the first to notice this, nor the last. But she is the first to take it, and tuck it away in her heart, in a way that precious few others have. It is here, then, that the narrator must take yet another step away, and point the reader back to that fateful day wherein the fae, well-meaning wife of their little town’s incompetent mayor was nearly brained by a ceiling tile in the middle of Monsieur d’Herblay’s second-grade classroom.

On the afternoon of the day immediately after this incident, Anne donned her most autumn-appropriate cardigan (a soft cream-coloured cashmere), swept her hair up into its most sensible updo (the one bordering on severe, which Louis had always hated), and slipped her smallest pair of pearls into her ears (these, Anne knew, were barely visible, and brought no attention to her ears, which she believed to be her most shapely feature). Having thusly prepared herself, she took a deep breath, clasped the delicate gold chain of her favorite crucifix around her neck, and walked the short distance back to the public school to check on the state of Monsieur d’Herblay’s ceiling.

Monsieur d’Herblay’s ceiling was doing just fine, and his children -- for that was what he cheerfully called them -- were doing even better. They flocked her upon her gentle knock at the doorway, clambering over each other and disrupting their daily Reading Circle to be the first to greet her at the door. Chirped cries of, “Monsieur d’Herblay, Monsieur d’Herblay, Madame de Bourbon has returned!” and overloud “HELLO MADAME”s, and, most amusing of all: “are you dying, Madame de Bourbon?” rang out in abundance.

“Oh, no, I am in perfect health, Henri,” Anne had assured the little boy, clutching her handbag with perhaps more force than she might have usually. “The ceiling tile missed me, you see.”

“Were you very scared?”

“I don’t think I --”

“Did you think you were going to die?”

“Marie, I really don’t think --”

“I don’t think you were scared,” had declared Suzette, a little girl more rolly than polly, who enjoyed wearing corduroys at every given opportunity.

“She is a superhero,” whispered Victoire in agreement, from Suzette’s left, only she lisped most of the word, for she had just lost her two front teeth the night before.

“I am --”

“She is indeed.”

And here, the narrator may say that Anne felt once more rescued, just as she had been rescued from a terrible head injury the day before, as the lanky figure of Aramis swept smoothly through the children and in front of her, somehow managing to usher them back into a bad imitation of a half-moon and relative silence without uttering a single word. Anne wondered if this sort of skill was cultivated, or if he had simply possessed it since birth. (This was not a sign of her own naivete. To be sure, Aramis himself had no idea.) “Madame,” his smile was soft but infectious nonetheless -- Aramis had many of these smiles to give -- and Anne found her grasp on her handbag ease.

“I simply wanted to make sure that everything was in working order, Monsieur d’Herblay. It would be a shame if any of your students were injured by more falling ceilings, you see.”

“I’d protect them with my own life were that to happen, Madame,” said Aramis very seriously. The reader might have realized by now that Aramis was very rarely a truly serious sort of person, but that this was certainly one of those rarelies. “I assure you.”

“Like he protected you,” offers Henri, from around Aramis's leg.

Anne, whose skin was cursed to be fair and quite susceptible to flushing, turned pink. However, she did not deign to acknowledge this, but rather cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. This was a tactic that she had picked up from Constance. She found it was a great help in faking sensibleness when one felt a resounding lack of it. Sensibleness was something she needed tremendously just then, as she was suddenly infused with a surge of reckless courage.

“It was nothing,” said Aramis, smiling warmly, but was gently cut off by Anne’s voice, in it an odd note both hesitant and hopeful.

“Oh, it was certainly not nothing. In fact,” Anne took quite a deep breath, “I am in your debt, Monsieur, and as such, I would like to give you a token of my gratitude.”

Aramis blinked, a few times, and then said, “Oh?” very curiously. There was half a smile in his voice.

“Yes,” said Anne, taking a step forward and lifting her chin. Carefully, she reached around her neck and unclasped her crucifix, and then held it pretty and dangling in front of her. “A good luck charm -- for protection,” she explained. “In case there are any other falling ceiling tiles.”

“Would you not need it yourself,” asked Aramis, though his tall frame was already slightly bent over, as though instinctively anticipating her next move of clasping the necklace very carefully behind his collar.

Anne was determinedly trying not to let her fingers brush against the tanned skin of his neck as she fastened the chain, which was perhaps why she did not think before she said, “Oh, but I am sure you will always be there to rescue me again.”

She straightened, bringing her hands down abruptly and smoothing them carefully over the front of her blouse; she did not break eye contact with him, but did flush just a little more, contrite.

Aramis, however, was looking somewhat entranced. The children were watching the proceedings with rapt attention.

“Of course,” he said, his voice impossibly soft.

Anne could have sworn she was floating. She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or something else entirely that she could not have for the life of her identified just then, as she had very little experience with these things overall. “Yes,” agreed Anne, although there was nothing to really agree about. She then hesitated, surrounded by the colourful paper posters lining the walls alongside the children’s macaroni artwork, as people like Anne caught in such situations are sometimes wont to do. “Goodbye then, children,” she said, her voice a little high pitched, taking a step back to go and once more clutching her purse.

“Say goodbye,” Aramis had whispered loudly over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Madame de Bourbon,” chanted the little class. Anne made it all the way to the doorway, before turning back to give the class a final little wave and a smile.

And Aramis had smiled back at her, as people like Aramis caught in such situations are sometimes wont to do, and it was for this smile that Anne did not leave the classroom and put the incident completely out of her mind, as she had vowed to do so as to save herself long stretches of internal embarrassment -- but instead, not a week later, returned.

Once again, in preparation, Anne donned her second-most autumn-appropriate cardigan (a delicate off-yellow wool), swept her hair up into its second-most sensible updo (elegant, but discreet), and slipped in her smallest pair of pearls (her ears, Anne thought, with a small pang of regret). Having thusly prepared herself, she took a deep breath, tucked her most cherished copy of C.S Lewis’s The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe into her handbag, and walked the short distance back to the public school.

Anne’s faint little knock on the door was noticed first by the sweet red-headed Henri, who leapt to his feet in the middle of Reading Circle and declared her presence with great gusto.

“Madame de Bourbon! Madame de Bourbon is here again, Monsieur!”

One hand paused over his guitar, Aramis had stilled as he looked up at her from their lopsided circle. There was a look on his face, one that neither Anne nor the children quite understood, but made everyone in the room feel as though something was about to Happen. He was still wearing her crucifix, Anne noticed, and for that she took a deliberate step into the classroom, inhaled silently (she would later confide to Constance that it felt far louder than it actually was), and reached into her handbag.

“I was -- I brought you a book for Reading Circle,” she said (Anne never blurted anything in her life, but it was a close thing), and held out The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe in front of her. “Monsieur. If you need another one, I thought that the children might enjoy --”

Anne's words came to a stop -- not because she was the sort of person who faltered, but rather because she was caught off-guard by the growing smile on Aramis's face, the kind that started small and grew to be enormous, like the lights of a Christmas tree flickering on when the electricity is a bit unreliable.

(You see, here, that Constance’s earlier narration was quite accurate.)

“Oh, but this is brilliant,” Aramis was saying, scrambling to his feet, guitar still in hand (it twanged a little where his knee bumped it), as Anne managed to focus on his voice, a smile of her own growing on her face. He stood properly and strode through their now disarrayed circle, half-turning back to the children and then swiveling back to face Anne, as though he did not know whether to address his class or the book or her. “This edition -- I’ve been looking for Lewis for years, but I’ve never found this one again, anywhere, I --” He looked up from the book -- “I had it as a kid -- my mother gave it to me, but I lost it when I moved away and she -- it’s the only one --”

“-- With the good illustrations!” Anne finished for him, her own smile shining like one might expect a fairytale star to do up close.

“Yes! You’ve read --”

“It’s my most prized copy,” Anne admitted, a little bit breathless, because the topic of books was always an exhilarating one.

“Well,” said Aramis, positively beaming. “I’ve found a kindred spirit, it seems! Kids -- guess what we’re going to be reading next!”

Anne had laughed, a bright, tinkling sound. The children were all, once again, watching with rapt fascination, which was an important detail, for, as we all know (but most forget), children are an awfully perceptive sort.

“I’m glad it was a good choice,” said Anne warmly, and Aramis turned back to her, grin still firmly painted on his face. His eyebrows raised, then, as though realizing something, and quickly held up a long finger in the universal gesture for Wait, just a moment, for you might be an angel and I think that I’m dreaming. Anne did not read this far into his finger-raise, but waited curiously as he turned around and nearly stumbled to his desk, depositing his guitar in the desk chair and lacking half of his usual grace in his enthusiasm.

“It’d be rude of me,” he started, rummaging through what Anne identified as a battered canvas backpack, covered in pins and marker and looking as though it was on its last legs, “not to give you something back, Henri, wouldn’t it be so awfully rude --”

“The rudest,” Henri confirmed solemnly, nodding at Anne with all the gravitas a seven-year-old boy might possess.

“Un-for-giff-ble,” added Victoire, nodding furiously.

“We’d sack him,” said Marie, as though they even had that sort of executive power.

“Oh, dear, you really don’t need to --” started Anne.

“-- Aha!” cried Aramis, and held up a book. “Constance says you enjoy Shakespeare, Madame, and Shakespeare is certainly too much for us struggling students to grasp --”

“I could grasp Shookspeare if you’d let me, Monsieur d’Herblay,” complained Suzette.

“I shall give you Hamlet tomorrow, little bird,” Aramis said, very seriously, before turning back to Anne and holding out what must have been the most battered collection of Shakespeare’s comedies that Anne had ever seen in her life.

Once again, for a moment, Anne felt -- and, indeed, this time looked -- as though she might be floating.

“Oh,” she said faintly, “this is wonderful. I don’t know how to -- I’ll return it as soon as I can, Monsieur --”

“Aramis,” said Aramis, interrupting her. And, perhaps for the first time that day -- that week -- that month -- Aramis felt his face heat up with a blush, the sort that creeps up on you in moments of great excitement, where you have just met a person whom you think to be the terribly decent sort. “Um, you could -- well, Madame, if we’re exchanging books.”

“It’d only be right,” agreed Anne solemnly, and held out a hand. “It is very good to meet you, Aramis. I’m Anne.”

“Anne,” said Aramis, trying out her name in his mouth.

(The narrator must be appropriately dramatic about these little moments, after all.)

They shook hands, the beaming smiles still present (but perhaps a little softer), and Henri tugged on the hem of Aramis's professional teacher-appropriate cable-knit sweater.

“Monsieur d’Herblay, may I call you Aramis too?”

Anne laughed.

Small moments such as these are actually not nearly as rare as we may believe them to be -- such as these referring to the small event of two souls knitting together over a mutual delight. For some, it may be ping pong. For others, long walks in gardens, or contemplation of the night sky. Still others may collide gently into one another because their dearly beloved pets decide to sniff at each other’s bottoms, and for some, their eyes widen at the discovery that their coffee order is the same, down to the brand of cream they prefer, and everything shifts a little bit.

For Anne and Aramis, it was not books -- as one might expect after all that -- but kindness.

#my writing #anne of austria #aramis d'herblay #anne x aramis #annamis #taylor swift prompt meme #the musketeers #bbc musketeers

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misery-has-no-company-now · 3 months

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Speaking of torturing blorbos, do have any spare angsty NY and/or Loui hc’s :3

(It’s fine if not-)

Why yes, of course I do!

So I’ve already said that England was a bitch to New York, right? Well, so were the Netherlands. Good old Holland gave Yorkie his abandonment issues by sending him off to England when he didn’t want to “bear the burden of another overseas territory” (his words not mine, kill him not me <3) so decided to leave him with England. The Netherlands is also responsible for his daddy issues thanks to having given up New York to the English in exchange for the Island of Run in eastern Indonesia because he thought it’ll be “worth more” than New York was (true story, the Dutch gave up NY in return for an island where nutmeg could grow - because that was very rare back then apparently) which made New York think that even his father didn’t want him and would willingly give him away the moment he found a good opportunity to do so. The Netherlands is kind of like those parents who decide to have another child because they clearly don't like the one(s) they have right now.

And what does this leave Yorkie with? Why a bunch of issues, of course? *Slaps him with daddy issues + abandonment issues + attachment issues* He often used to feel very upset over the fact that his dad left him, or rather threw him away; and until he had children of his own (I headcannon the cities as either the children or the siblings of the states) and Father’s Day became a different thing and busier for him, he used to cry over the fact that he didn’t have a father since his didn’t want to keep him around and would sooner give him off to someone looking for more child soldiers to have in his army (Englanddd)

Thanks to all this he’s also always extremely scared that if he “messes up” again, then the people who he loves and cares for won’t like him anymore - and he thinks that they will then realise that he’s too much trouble for him so leave him just like the Netherlands did, or worse, hurt him like England did. He also can’t stand a loved one being mad at him for any reason at all, so this makes him a people-pleaser at times (but only to the ones he loves of course, because you know - the Northeast).

And you know how people have flight or freeze responses? Well, firstly I think he’d be a strong freeze in danger type of person; but depending on what the ‘danger’ is I also guess that he’d be the type to fawn - like you know, if the presumed ‘danger’ is something like a loved one being angry at him; in which case he just tries to appease them and often goes over the top in trying to make them happy again, even if they weren’t that mad in the first place.

And now, for Loui. Oh Loui. Pauvre ti bête, sha. So while it is true that he does see spirits a lot, he is sometimes unable to see if he is imagining/hallucinating them or if they’re actually real, so he’ll hurt himself in some way to try and see which it is. He uses pain to ground himself, kind of like an unhealthy coping mechanism. Often he takes this to extremes and this results in a lot of bleeding wounds, some which cut deep. Trimming his fingernails and keeping him away from sharp objects and all doesn’t really help because sometimes when he gets too emotional, his magic works on its own and hurts him resulting in injuries he cannot heal properly.

He also feels guilty very easily, even for things which are not necessarily his fault (like if his people did something terrible that he had no say in, he’d still feel like he was to blame for it because it was his people doing it in the first place) despite all the time he spends playing pranks with Florida. Sometimes he picks on these old wounds of his as a ‘reminder’ to himself of what happens when he does something wrong, or just to punish himself without adding further injuries that could hurt other people.

*slams him with alcoholism as a coping mechanism* (and once again, it’s unhealthy, of course)

He often feels bad about using his magic, especially since Mass and Maine don’t anymore because of the Witch Trials that happened. He saw Mass get persecuted in one of those (and take the brunt of his accidental use of magic in public) once and he lost most of the joy he used to feel in performing magic. He beats himself up over Mass having gotten hurt because of him too, though both Mass and Maine tell him that it’s not his fault.

Papa France is an ass and both Maine and Maine are geographically far away, though they do often meet with each other, so he sometimes feels a bit lonely and misses talking to someone older in his family who can give him advice and all that when he needs it. But he hangs out with a lot of people so he doesn’t feel this way that much these days. However, earlier when he barely talked to anyone else, he was rather lonely.

And this one is courtesy of France too. Loue sometimes also feels terrible for, as France claims, “butchering the French language” with his Cajun French, and these taunts of France make it hard for him to be as proud of his culture as he should be - but his friends and family are helping him work on that.

So um...I've got a lot more of these, but that's all for now because I think I should stop here. Let me know if you want more.

#Btw I'm so so sorry for this long wait.#I'm just getting around to answering all the asks I have in my inbox now #welcome to the table #wttt #wttt louisiana #wttt new york #wttt england #wttt france

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louisupdates · 1 year

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Louis’ quotes from The Times article: Louis Tomlinson: ‘When One Direction split I was mortified and bitter. It felt like another loss’

The singer on life after the boy band, grieving his mother and sister, and why he would ‘be up for’ a reunion, as he releases a film (24.2.23)

I’ve always had a problem with ‘ego’, and I’ve always been worried about being one of those people in the public eye who just loses all sense of reality, and becomes an arsehole. I’m from Doncaster.

If someone does come up after an hour to ask for a selfie, I won’t say no and I won’t run away, especially if I’m three pints deep!

With this job, there’s so much room for overthinking, you know? Someone from the record label will tell you they like your stuff, but you find yourself thinking: yeah, but do they? It’s the fans that help you really believe in yourself.

I do miss the boys, and I do definitely miss being one of the five, but I like doing my own thing too. It was time.

This is a confidence game for anyone, and there’s been plenty of moments of vulnerability throughout the entire process.

Only Harry knows what he means there. It’s hard to speculate. But we all came from relatively humble beginnings, and now we are where we are.

Some of the things that have happened recently have been quite drastic, yeah, but then so much in my life seems to have been pretty extreme, one way or the other. There’ve been challenging times, definitely. It’s funny, but I couldn’t even tell you how many years ago my mum passed, I just blank it out. But for the first 18 months, I’d take any form of bad luck personally. I’d feel every tiny thing. But now I genuinely feel I’ve come out the other side. I feel more empathy for everything and everyone these days.

It was mostly amicable. Simon always had my best interests at heart, and I liked him. He had his faults of course, like all of us, but it was always inevitable I’d have to go off and do my own thing.

[Being able to write with artists rather than songwriters] was a big difference, huge. These are people who live and breathe music. It’s the first time I felt really comfortable doing my own stuff, you know?

When I was in the band, working with professional songwriters whose entire aim was to write the hit single, they’d tell me that singing in my natural accent wasn’t commercial. Sorry, but what a shit idea. Who wants to sound like everybody else? I dumbed down a little bit in the band, because you do, but I’ve learnt who I am now.

Well, being a role model for one. I never wanted that. I always had to worry whether it was OK if, say, I was seen here or if I could get away with smoking a joint there, before concluding: hmm, probably not. But I never wanted to be the perfect pop star, especially in the climate of Instagram. I don’t want to put an artificial world out there. I think it’s important that people see your scars, your flaws.

When One Direction split up, I was mortified, I was absolutely gutted. I was a bit bitter, I suppose, because it just felt like another loss to me. But I’ve a better understanding of things now, and there’s not as much anger. It is what it is. Getting back together at some point is hard to imagine right now, but I’d be surprised if we lived out our lives and didn’t have a moment where we had a reunion, or whatever you want to call it. I’d be up for that.

Well, it’s not a surprise is it? We were always aware that Harry fit that mould, and it’s been an amazing thing to watch. Envy? At the start maybe, when I was trying to find my feet, but it’s never healthy to cross-reference your own success with others, is it? These days I’m learning to elevate myself in those moments when I have to. I didn’t know how to do that before, but now? Now I know I fucking can.

#the times #louis tomlinson #aotv promo #all of those voices #24 february 2023

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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 2 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/seasurfacefullofclouds1/744672247980195840/it-wasnt-a-failure-of-understanding-of-harrys

Not sure if its a good way to start my ask but i was a larrie until couple of months and i still feel very bad that am not able to let it go.. this is not my life until last year and its just i feel too much all the time.. am not able to let it go that louis and harry are not together and seeing your blog and going through stuff that is not said anywhere is making me so angry.. how the truth is twisted and made into a fantasy, i guess its not even people fault who write only about their perception because they think of boys in a certain way rather than what actually happened and what has been happening and how unfair L is being treated.. am angry with myself that why am i bothered when a millionaire white male(H) has turned to be what they usually are.. i did not believe harry relationship with olivia but when i saw pattern of H and his personal trainer i was feeling very bad.. very bad for louis.. i know you don’t believe they are together but i did and i felt so betrayed.. you might think thats its silly to feel such strongly but trust me am unable believe myself.. it could’ve been that louis has broken up with harry or the otherway but i cannot help but feel sad for louis.. he is someone who deserves a better man than H but he also seem to take a lot of time to get into a relationship unlike someone who has relationships with every other random person.. may be that trainer is a good person but harry’s way of parading his girlfriends or boyfriends around the world is disgusting and people actually are doing is it just something else altogether.. i wanna sit with louis and wanna hear all about what he has to say and kick everyone that hurt him so badly..

Hi there!

I can’t say that I know enough about Brad the Trainer, except that sometimes he and Harry are in casual photos together? Honestly, idk anything.

I know when fandom hangs on certain myths (the two-week rule, we-kind-of-share-that, Louis supports Harry at his concerts, Harry is secretly helping Louis’ career), it can feel very personally anxiety-provoking when an event contradicts the mythology, like when they spent months during pandemic obviously thousands of miles apart.

I used to be a Larrie, and I remember those moments of huge doubt, only to have the fandom twist the truth so hard to eliminate the doubters. Then it would always turn to old gifs, jokes, memes, and fanfiction to make everything comfy again.

Here’s the thing. I think once you let go of “they still might be together,” you should try to question every assumption, even something like, “They check up on each other.” Do they though? Do they even have time?

Unlike fans, Louis and Harry know what they are (individually) doing every day, they don’t have to guess. Their days are often filled with work and meetings. They’re with friends. They have to plan months, years into the future. They have to talk to doctors, dentists, stylists, publicists, tour managers, graphic designers, producers… you get the idea.

I promise you they are NOT reading fan tweets or Tumblr posts and sending secret signals or anons. I promise you they aren’t coordinating what they wear, let alone colors. They aren’t checking each other’s lyrics or interviews or gossip pages or haircuts or fanfic-inspired movies or whatever, because their lives are already too busy; they are two separate people.

So I doubt that Louis is sitting at home feeling sad that Harry is dating whomever, because it probably never crosses his mind. Louis is living his own very full, very fulfilling, very fun, and probably at times very stressful life. He has employees he needs to pay, and investments in future projects that aren’t easy and aren’t jokes. Life isn’t just about getting on stage for 90 minutes every few days.

Instead, feel happy for Louis that he has so much going on, and that he is the master of his life. He can choose to settle down with someone or not. He can like whatever he wants to like on Instagram. He can design his 28 clothing campaigns the way he wants it. Louis’ stage design is his creation. He can choose not to perform at an Azoff venue, ever. He can support and listen to whatever artist he wants without worrying about their label or management affiliation. He watches the shows he wants to watch, wears the designers he wants to wear. He can spend money on his band, taking them on outings, and trust them completely. All of this is so much more than what he had before— and his joy shows.

Welcome to your freedom.

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magicalrocketships · 8 months

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This one is fun! thank you to @boxboxlewis for the tag. Love a bit of a dive into AO3 stats.

rules: give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the fewest words.

fic with the most hits: high school famous/not famous secret former relationship Harry/Louis from a DECADE ago, god: Truly, Madly, Deeply (10 Things I Hate About You)

fic with the second most kudos: this one was a surprise as it's relatively recent in comparison with some of the ones on the list. Harry/Draco accidental mpreg with Harry being a bit crap and Draco being a bit lonely: Can't Fight The Moonlight

fic with the third most comments: Nick/Louis depression/university au: Not Your Fault But Mine I forgot how hard it was writing such a tight POV with a depressed character, thoroughly hard work.

fic with the fourth most bookmarks: One of my favourite things I've ever written, I think? Certainly I think the fastest thing I've ever written, did 120k+ in less than two months. Nick/Louis, enemies to lovers, secret relationship, I still have the paper calendars working out the stupid timeline. One day I'll finish the sequel: I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow

fic with the fifth most words: Of my top five, this is the only one under 100k, and only just. famous/not famous, secret relationship, exes to lovers, a very ugly cat: Emperor's New Clothes.

fewest words: tiny little coda to my Nick/Harry secretly married fic where they have a ceremony for family and friends: I can't make it stop (give me all you got)

tagging: @flawlessassholes, @allwaswell16, @astorytotellyourfriends, and @junkshop-disco, if they want to!

#waffling on about fic

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cerealandchoccymilk · 10 months

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Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1-2, Chapter #09

previous | all | next

I’m doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc.

The volume numbers will be mismatched for most of the remainder of Trigun, since the Japanese first edition is 3 volumes while all later versions are 2 volumes.

As always, here are the non-analysis panels:

And the rest is under the cut.

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

To start off, we have Meryl talking about buying designer handbags. This part was very confusing in Japanese because even though I could recognize Prada, the two other brands she named were completely bogus to me. What the hell are エピピ(Epipi) and NCM!?

So I asked my mom about it last night (she knows a decent amount about brands popular in the 90's, since she was still living in Japan back then). She was also stumped for a bit, but after a while she asked to see the way "Prada" looked. She noticed that it was written like プラーダ(purāda) rather than the correct プラダ(purada). I didn't notice because I don't know shit about fashion... but she suggested that maybe all of these were slight variations on real-life brands. She said that NCM is probably based on MCM Worldwide.

Epipi probably took a solid 20 minutes to figure out.... We were naming every brand on earth searching for anything that could even vaguely sound like "epipi." Right when we nearly ran out of ideas, she thought of googling just part of the name, like "epi brand," and voila, apparently there's a line of Louis Vuitton leather called Epi.

Epipi (and brain soup) is an inside joke between us now btw.

The chapter cover!! Everyone here is so damn cute... also I'm sitting almost exactly how Vash is right now.

This is the second appearance of Vash's shades. I can't see the details, but the design looks the same as the one before.

I'd completely forgotten how tiny Kaito is??? Literally half of Vash's height.

Vash's response to Kaito's insult(?) is「お前そりゃないだろ…」and is something more like "C'mon, man..." or "Seriously?"

big eyes vash big eyes vash i want to scoop him up and put him in a jar with holes in the lid

It's so cool how Vash immediately understands exactly what's going on through what he's overhearing, thanks to his childhood on the spaceship and his time at Home. How can this man not drive

I think the engineer is talking about the Plant here, so it should be "The shock could kill it." (although the Plant dying would also kill everyone else. ykwim)

Didn't know that guy was called a helmsman.... In Japanese, the word for helmsman, 操舵手 (the scan is super blurry and looked like 士 but the correct word is 手) was written as ライツ(raitsu) with 操舵手 written in the ruby. Maybe raitsu was the name of the helmsman? Or it might be something else boat-related that I don't know about.

Vash's silent reaction to Kaito's words say a lot. This behavior is nearly identical to Vash's (again, more so in Maximum, after Vash remembers the events of July and gets even more depressed). He understands Kaito's pain and guilt, and worries for him, but he also can't help but see himself in the boy... however he feels about that. This gets a bit more into theory territory, but I think Vash doesn't want Kaito to turn out like himself. Of course, he wants everyone to strive for peace; he wants people to be like that part of himself, in that regard. However, he doesn't want people to act self-destructive like he is. One obvious reason is that Vash genuinely doesn't want Kaito to be hurt, especially when he believes that people always deserve to start over and live a happy life.... But another underlying reason could be that he doesn't like percieving parts of himself in others, out of self-hatred.

One of my favorite lines ever!!!!! (has 50 favorites)(its not my fault trigun/trimax is so constantly banger) While humans views the Plant as a tool and an incomprehensible being, Vash simply views them as just a girl that needs calming down—"people" just like him and everyone else. He has a familial relationship with every Plant, which I absolutely adore. And!!! I will expand on this bit in the next(I think) arc and beyond, or maybe even make a separate post!!! I have so many thoughts surrounding this and it's a core theme to Trigun as a whole.

Noting some SFX since some non-Japanese readers may not have noticed - the plant is making a high-pitched scream from here on. Also, Kaito says that it's a "voice," not a "sound."

More Plant object-person dichotomy!! This unfortunately gets lost in translation, but it's a very neat storytelling trick. In Japanese, This is written in an interesting way:「プラント――　それは『造りだす』もの」 with もの(mono) having dots above them (in this context acting like italicization for emphasis in English). Usually, this もの would be more specific. There's 物(mono) which means "object" or "thing," and there's 者(mono) which means "person" or sometimes "being." The narrator intentionally leaves the identity of the Plant vague. Again, in humans' eyes, Plants are machines of production. In Vash's eyes, Plants are full-fledged people.

I would write that line closer to the original format, with quotes around "creates" and leaving it at that.

A longer translation correction—just going to transcribe it here:

水紫外線酸素そして微電力を与える事によって物理法則を超えた『生産』活動を行う生体システムである They are organic systems that, when fed water, ultraviolet light, oxygen, and a bit of electricity, can "produce" things in a process that surpasses all physical law.

The sound effect here is loud footsteps on metal. I think it's neat that Nightow showed Vash running up the stairs with just onomatopoea and a shot of the stairs.

In Japanese, Vash says that he's counting on/leaving the rest up to the engineers/the others on the ship, after telling them to deal with it.

Again, Vash considers the Plant his family, a sister. He is talking directly to them and treating them with respect. The word used here is actually 兄弟(kyoudai), which means "brother(s)"/olderbrother-youngerbrother, where in this situation with a brother and sister of unspecified age/order it would usually just be きょうだい(kyoudai, spelled out)... it may be that back then, people didn't really specify or mix-and-match sibling gender (姉弟兄妹 etc) in writing as much as we do now.

The first appearance of feathers on Vash!! During my first read, I was absolutely mesmerized by this page. Mannnnnnn the angel imagery....

Also bonus reaction from my dear friend from my Instagram liveposting back in April (yeah. my first read was only a bit over 2 months ago). booty CRACK

This is the "beeeeeeep" sound of a flatlining heart monitor. Until now I thought it was more of an imaginary thing to show that their hearts have stopped, but I just realized that it may also be a real sound of the Plant's vital monitors. Could be either, to be honest.

Apparently "yards" are normal? In Japanese it's written as ヤーズ(yādzu, yards) instead of what would regularly be just ヤード(yādo, yard), so that may be the subtle miles-iles change?

This line would be "The pipes are stuck! They won't even budge!"

And the SFX here is a distant chattering and cheering crowd.

And here is the last scene, with Kaito humming Rem's favorite song. Idk, this just gives me a raw emotional reaction... I can't really analyze it lol. Rejoicing that you've survived through hardship. That while things still aren't perfect, this imminent danger has passed. That you still get to enjoy being alive. The same song of humanity still sang. Something something....

Anyways that’s it for Chapter #09! As always, the Japanese annotations are in the reblogs.

#mother comes to the rescue once again #'how can this man not drive' i say...not having a drivers license #actually yknow its the passenger princess swag. chauffeur for me boy #also finally installed a browser extension to store my em dashes and macrons 💪 <-was googling it every time until now #ik alt codes exist but they dont work on my puter. probably bc its bootcamp (windows on a mac)#we should probably use the macos side more buttttttt all our files and games are on windows :/#trigunbookclub #trigun annotation #trigun #trigun manga #hopeposting...(clenches fist)#ok time to cry myself to sleep now goodnight yall i hope the best for each and every one of yougjhfkhbm....(sobbing)#like actually im tearing up typign this at 1:30am #anyways anyways nighty night

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elisysd · 7 months

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13. Lately you’ve been searching for a darker place to hide

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Leave a Light On - Tom Walker

“Louis… Please, it’s not what you think it is.” said Julia, emotionless.

“You lied. You are a liar. You both are liars. All you did was lie, lie, lie!” screamed Louis.

Julia could see him shaking and she only wanted to rush to him and take him in her arms, whispering that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t. She knew he wouldn’t let her. That it would make everything worse.

“I’ve never wanted you to learn it like that, Louis please believe me.” she felt as if her throat was tightening, her voice was hoarse and she feared she was about to pass out.

“Louis, buddy…” Ethan tried to say, slowly moving his hands in front of him in a poor attempt to calm Louis down.

“I’m not your buddy! You are not my friend! You are a liar! Why is everyone lying? Mom and dad always say that families don’t lie to each other because we love one another and when we love someone we don’t lie!”

“I love you Louis, you know that..”

“Don’t talk about love! If you loved me enough you wouldn’t have lied to me!

“I can explain, Louis… please let us explain…” She was begging him.

“Louis, your sister is saving my ass, she is not responsible. I dragged her into that. If you want to get mad at someone, get mad at me.” Ethan slowly said.

But it was no use, Louis was not listening to them. He was relentlessly shaking his head, his eyes closed and his breathing loud. He was under a lot of stress and he couldn’t manage it. And it killed Julia inside to know that she was responsible for it and that she couldn’t do anything. She barely reacted when she saw Louis limping towards the house, silently. And Ethan rushed to her as she was falling apart.

“Julia..”

“He hates me. He hates me. He hates me. Ethan, my brother hates me.” he could feel her tears wetting his shirt but he didn’t care. He felt guilty, more than guilty.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. He is hurt right now, but he’ll come around. He loves you.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He could have decided to never talk to me again and he would stick to it. When he was 10, mom wanted to throw him a surprise birthday party and she acted as if she had forgotten his birthday. He refused to talk to her for two months.”

“It’s all my fault… Julia, I’m so sorry;”

“I’m at fault too.”

They heard footsteps approaching and soon, Lyanna and Charles were there, panicking. It didn’t take long for the parents to understand what had happened, especially after they had seen Louis coming back and locking himself up in his room. And this time, no one would be able to get him out of it. As Lyanna was rushing to take her daughter in her arms, Charles walked to Ethan, a worried look on his face.

“What happened?”

“It’s my fault… I… Louis, I did something that triggered his anxiety. I didn’t want to and Julia tried to come between him and I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“It’s okay… It can happen, unfortunately with Louis. It’s just that it never happens with Julia. Let’s go inside, you guys are going to get cold.”

They all walked silently to the house, the peacefulness of the night only disturbed by the regular sobs of Julia. Lyanna and his daughter sat down on the sofa as Ethan took a blanket that was near the fireplace and dropped it on his fake girlfriend’s shoulders.Charles was in the kitchen, occupied to boil the water and Louis was nowhere in sight. Charles soon came back with four steaming cups that he gave to each one of them. Ethan was not used to drinking tea but he could drink anything if it could help calm his heart that threatened to jump out of his chest. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the mug shaking slightly in the hands of Julia. She was pale, way too pale for his liking and most of all, she was silent. He hated seeing her like that. He would rather have her screaming at him and slapping him than utter silence.

“I’m going to try to talk to Louis. I don’t want to spend the night not knowing if he hates me or if I can fix what has been broken.” she said.

Ethan stood up to follow her but with one look, she made it clear that she wanted to do it alone. She went up and knocked on his door and unsurprisingly, she was welcomed with silence from the other side of the door. She tried again, calling out Louis' name, but then again, nothing. She tried to open the door and was surprised to not feel it locked. She went into the room that was filled with darkness and switched the light on.

Ethan heard Julia before he saw her. It didn’t take a minute for the young woman to run back downstairs, looking disheveled, a jacket in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Louis disappeared.” she simply said, panicked filling her words.

“What do you mean, he disappeared?” repeated Charles.

“He is not in his room.”

Lyanna gasped and looked at Charles who froze. Ethan was the first one to react, reaching for his jacket and his keys, before taking Julia by the hand.

“He couldn’t have gone very far, he is limping. We are going to take my car and drive around to see if we can catch him. Julia, is there somewhere he could have gone? You know him better than anyone.”

Julia shook her hand, unable to think clearly.

“I’m coming with you.” said Lyanna.

“Love, we should stay here, just in case Louis would come back on his own. And he will need you.” said Charles, taking her in his arms and kissing her temple.

As if the night couldn’t be more of a disaster, rain was starting to fall. Ethan could see Julia’ s leg bouncing as she started to bit her nails, looking frantically everywhere. Ethan knew she wasn’t seeing anything, it was too dark outside. To try to calm her down he put his hand on her leg which had the effect to make her look at him, her eyes red and puffy.

“Joolsie, we will find him. I promise you.”

“I swear Ethan, if something happens to him…”

“Nothing will happen.I won’t let anything happen to him. Or to you for what is worth.”

“You don’t know that. He is alone, he is limping, it’s dark and cold and it’s raining.”

Ethan shut up. He knew better than fighting with her by now. She was emotionally unstable and he needed to keep his calm. If they were both panicking, it wouldn’t help the situation. They started to drive around the neighbourhood, trying to catch a glimpse of Louis. But nothing. Julia was regularly on the phone with her parents to know if they had any updates, but Louis was still nowhere in sight.

“Julia, listen to me. I need you to calm down and think, okay?”

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your brother who went missing…” she replied, harshly.

“You need to focus. Is there a place that Louis could have gone to? Somewhere he loves or he mentions a lot? Anything that can come to your mind. Because it’s been an hour and a half that we are driving around and we don’t make any progress.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay! I can’t think!”

“Well I need you to!”

She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing as Ethan was still looking at her.

“The pond. It’s near the house but we can’t access it by car. There is a small footpath near and he loved to go there to see the frogs and the insects. I don’t know if he could be there but it’s worth a try, no?”

Ethan silently followed Julia’s indications to the beginning of the walkway. As soon as he stopped the engine, Julia was already out of the car rushing to the pond, leaving Ethan behind who had a hard time keeping up with her. Her heart was beating fast in her chest and she hoped with everything she had that he was there. She scrutinised the place but couldn’t see anything and she felt fear and panic get a hold of her. She turned to Ethan, tears falling down her face.

“He is not here. Ethan, he is not her and everything is my fault.”

She let herself fall into his arms as Ethan tried his best to comfort her. He was trying his best to stay calm but couldn’t help the nagging feeling of anxiety and guilt to rise up in his throat. As he was about to turn around and go back to the car, he saw a dark silhouette hiding behind a tree. Looking closer, he was damn sure that it was the lanky figure of Louis.

“Julia… he is here.”

It didn’t take much for Julia to leave the warmth of Ethan’s arms and rush to where he was pointing his fingers. Indeed her brother was there, completely soaked and visibly shaking. She knelled down next to him, not caring about how she would soon be soaked too.

“Louis… oh my gosh. I was so scared. Everyone is so scared. Don’t do that to us ever again.”

She took him in her arms but Louis had no reactions, she tried to force her to look her in the eyes but he was avoiding her gaze.

“I’m begging you, Louis, please talk to me. Tell me what I should do to fix things.”

Louis stayed silent for a moment before moving his arms up in direction of Ethan.

“I don’t want to see him ever again. He makes you lie to me and to mom and dad. I don’t like him.”

“I’m so sorry Louis… but I know I shouldn’t ask you that, but you have to promise me that you say anything to dad and mom. It would hurt them so much. And we don’t want that, okay?”

“I don’t want to lie.”

“I know, and I hate myself for asking you that but it’s important. I know you are not Ethan’s biggest fan right now, but please do it for me.”

The silence that followed felt like an eternity for Julia. She could feel the rain seeping through her clothes and she knew she was in for a cold, but she didn’t care. All that she cared about was getting his brother back home, safe and sound. Finally, Louis nodded and stood up with Julia’s help. The walk back to the car was made in utter silence, only broken by the sound of their footsteps. Back to the car, Ethan first reaction was to go for his trunk to retrieve some towels that he always kept there, in order for them to dry up a little. In the comfort of the car, he put the central heating to the maximum. Back to the Leclerc’s household, Louis was the first one to leave the car, as soon as Ethan parked. Silence followed again, as Julia was staring out at the window in front of her.

“I didn’t know Louis crisis could get this bad.” Ethan ended up saying.

“It had never been bad to the point he would run away.” Julia replied, her voice soar.

“It’s not…”

“I swear that if you say that it’s not my fault I’ll slap you Verstappen.”

“You couldn’t have known he would react this way. He was not supposed to hear our conversation, you can’t control everything Julia.”

“That’s the thing. I could have anticipated. He doesn’t feel and sees things the same way as us. That’s what making him special. In his world everything is simple, it’s black or white. People are nice or they are not. I wish I could be more like him sometimes.”

“In which category do I fall in his world?”

“For weird reasons, he likes you. But I guess after tonight it might change.”

“And in your world? Where do I fit, now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” she said, looking away and feeling Ethan’s insistent gaze on her.

“Because I know where you fit in mine.”

“And where am I , then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He repeated.

She finally turned her head away from him. She could feel her cheeks burning from the intensity of his gaze. Julia didn’t know if it was the heat in the car, the fact that she was more probably starting to get sick or Ethan but she felt suddenly hot. She coughed slightly to try and regain her composure.

“Did you forget something, at home?” she asked.

“I don’t think so and if I did, well, you know where I live.”

“Thank you for tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you had not been there.”

“You would have managed. You are one of the strongest people I know and one of the smartest.”

“Yeah, yeah… you are too much sometimes.” she smiles softly to him.

“ Only sometimes?”

“Most of the time.”

“I can deal with that.”

As she was about to leave the car, Ethan took her hand in his. It was cold despite the warmth of the cabin and he had to resist the urge to slip it in the pocket of his jacket.

“Julia, hey…”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t know why he tried to keep her next to him. He didn’t want to let go of her. This day, despite the downs, had been one he would remember for a long time. And he felt like they got closer, that something had changed between them without knowing what exactly. He grew accustomed to her. Her presence, her voice, her laugh, her smart remarks, her sarcastic comments, the way she always teased him, how she cared about her family, how she cared about his relationship with his dad. And he cared about her. He didn’t know if it was because the mountains of lies or if there was something more, deeper than that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. But one thing was certain, he wanted to keep getting close to her.

“I… I just… take care of you, okay? And… if you want to talk about something, anything, you can text me.”

She nodded and she removed her hand from his, leaving the car and him behind, but still, it didn’t prevent Ethan to look at her as she was disappearing in the dead of night.

When Julia came back inside the house, she saw her brother cradled in the arms of her mother, crying. Her dad was trying his best to not break down as well, putting a brave face on but his eyes were betraying him. She could feel drops of water falling from her hair down on the floor and it took her a few seconds to realize that she was shivering. She felt numb and she didn’t know if she was overreacting. After all, Louis was fine. It seemed worse than it actually was. But she couldn’t help but feel as if she had lost him, or at least a part of him. She broke his trust and realizing it broke her too. She sniffled and her dad looked at her before approaching. He was about to take her in his arms, in a bear hug but she backed off and passed by him. She didn’t want to get comforted. She didn’t deserve it. Not after tonight. She excused herself and moved to her room where she collapsed on her bed.

She reached for her phone but it was discharged. Of course. She groaned and searched for her charger before plugging into the socket. She didn’t have many notifications, a few text messages from Romy who wanted to know how the karting session went, one from Ethan saying he made it home and that he hoped she was doing okay and a few text messages from Martin who was actually sending her funny memes and cute pandas videos. She opened them and was grateful for the distractions. It made her laugh. The more she laughed the more she could feel the tension leaving her body. She didn’t know she needed it and she sent a quick text to Martin to thank him. She was not expecting him to answer this fast, almost as if he was waiting for her reply.

Are you okay?

Yeah. Just an issue with my brother but it’s fine now.

Do you want to talk about it?

Not really…

Okay. I won’t insist but if you need a friend to talk to, I’m here.

She could use a friend. She wanted a friend. She needed a friend. But was he her friend? Her thumb glided over the call button and she hesitated. A part of her knew it was a bad idea, but the other just wanted to forget everything about her day. Maybe not everything but the last few hours. She needed to get her mind off of how it all went down. So she pressed the button. It only took a few seconds before Martin’s voice was heard from the other side of the line.

“Julia? I thought you wouldn’t call.” he said in a velvet voice that felt like a warm blanket.

“Yeah, I thought so too… Am I bothering you?”

“Of course not. You are never a bother to me, Julia. I was serious when I said that if you needed a friend I was there.”

“I don’t want to talk about my day. It was shitty enough as it was. Tell me about you. I don’t really know much about your life. And I need to be entertained tonight.”

“Oh well… okay. I can do that. There are not many interesting things to say. My dad is an important business man in Poland. He works in the banking industry. I have a little sister, Georgia. She loves video games, she spent her days locked in her room to play when she doesn’ have school. She would love you, maybe one day you’ll meet her. I’m a cat person, I love how independent they are and quite frankly, I found them fascinating. I had one when I was younger, his name was Peppo. What more can I say? I’m afraid of heights. You won’t find me near a cliff that’s for sure. And if I wouldn’t have been a F1 driver, I would have been a secret agent. I’m a huge fan of James Bond. The books, not the movies. Should I keep going?”

Julia yawned, her body processing the events of the day.

“Am I boring to you?” joked Martin.

“No… not at all actually. Did someone ever tell you that you had a really soothing voice?”

“Never. But I’m glad you’re the first one to say it.”

“How come you are single? I mean… you are a nice guy and you are good-looking, there is no point denying it. Why don’t you have girls throwing themselves at you?”

“Careful of what you say, I know someone that wouldn’t be happy to hear that you find me attractive.”

“You are avoiding the question.”

“Yeah, you’re right I do.” he suddenly said in a serious tone.

Julia shifted on her bed, not daring to say anything.

“It’s just that unlike some drivers I don’t like hooking up. I want something serious and meaningful. I want to be with the right girl. I’m not interested in casual flings, it’s not for me. I’m searching for my better half.”

Julia didn’t know what to say and her throat was dry, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to entertain this topic.

“I hope you’ll find her, then…”

“I hope so too, yeah.”

“I… I have to go. It’s late and I have stuff to do tomorrow. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“If you want to hang out, some day, I know a few good spots in Singapore that I’m sure you’ll love. It doesn’t have to be Singapore, it can be any other time, just… text me, okay? Or call. Whatever you like.”

“Thank you, Martin. For everything. I needed a friend to call tonight.”

“And I’m glad you did. I’m glad to be your friend.”

She dropped the call and took her pillow to press it against her face and screamed in it. She shouldn’t have called him, she knew that. And why couldn’t she shake off the feeling of betraying Ethan by calling Martin? Why did it feel wrong to call him? She should have called Ethan, he had been there so much for her, he had been the one she was able to rely on the whole day. He was there for her. Her mind was going back and forth between Martin and Ethan and she didn’t even know why. She scrolled down her photo albums to look at the picture she had taken of the day. Most of them were Martin on the track and she didn’t even notice it. Of course she had some selfies with Louis and with her mom, some pictures of her dad too but the majority was Ethan. They were all the same, it was stupid to have that many uninteresting pictures. She selected a couple of them and sent them to Ethan.

I know you love to look at yourself so here are a few pictures I took of the day. Hope you are doing fine, have a goodnight.

She was expecting a joke, an arrogant comment, anything that could tell her that he was still the Ethan she hated, it would make everything in her mind so much more simple. She wasn’t expecting him to send back a picture of her smiling broadly and laughing with her brother. It was a pretty picture, the sun was reflecting on her face. It looked like a halo. She looked happy, genuinely happy. She didn’t even see him snapping this picture. She didn’t even know why he would have wanted to take a picture of her. Why a stupid picture suddenly make her stomach do backflips? Why did she feel her skin burning? Why did it make everything so complicated? She didn’t want complicated. She didn’t need complicated. SHe looked at the picture one last time. If it didn’t come from Ethan, she would have kept it, maybe even frame it. But this picture was making her feel contradictory things that she didn’t like.

She left the picture and looked at the text message. No words were added with the picture and without knowing why, another tear rolled down her cheek.

Author's note: I didn't want to make you guys wait too long, especially after the cliffhanger, so here's another part. Please bare in min that I won't be uploading next part before next saturday. Thank you!

What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

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