i could stare at it for days

anonymous asked:

one of the first things I thought of whenever I first saw your day/night au was the science behind the sun/moon and how it could easily be made into a metaphor? like how the moon only glows because it's reflecting light from the sun? and it could possibly be like the more yuuri and victor see each other, the brighter the moon is? idk, I think it kinda goes with canon too? since when victor came into yuuri's life, only then did he reach his true potential?

i want this hanged on a wall and just stare at this because this is beautiful

the very idea of the moon shining so brightly just because night is spending so much time with day is so wonderful it’s like he’s being shown a part of him he has never seen before and there’s that thought that comes up, the-“how did i live before i met you”-thought that always kills me and now i’m flailing and am about to cry

my favorite things about johhny
  • another post no one asked for but ur still gonna get it 
  • this one is short tho even tho i could go on for days
  • leggo
  • ok, first of his all, his height??
  • [insert the when he’s over 6 feet meme]
  • literally a giant but a cute one
  • hes actually so cute???
  • do y’all remember his aegyo dance 
  • bc i think about it everyday
  • he has the most heartwarming smile i 
  • i melt 
  • HIS LIPS OMG
  • IDEK WHAT IS GOING ON THERE BUT WOW
  • BEAUTIFUL
  • I COULD STARE AT HIS LIPS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE
  • ok but also,,,,
  • his lisp???
  • the fact that people don’t know about this has me SHOOK
  • #appreciate johnny’s lisp 2k17
  • I ACTUALLY MELT WHEN I HEAR IT I 
  • MY ACTUAL FAVORITE THING ABOUT HIM
  • also, him and taeyong
  • he’s always protecting him and i
  • i choke
  • HIM W TEN
  • thats it, no further explanation 
  • theres sm more but this is just a couple of things
Zutara Month Day 24: Home

Katara traced the rim of her tea cup as she stared blankly at the wall of the Jasmine Dragon.  She wasn’t really interested in her tea but Iroh had insisted it could cure anything that ailed her.

Suddenly the cup was out of her hands.  “Hey!”

Zuko put the cup back down, steam wafting from the new warm liquid.  “It was cold and trust me it tastes bad cold.”

“I don’t think anything Iroh makes tastes bad,” Katara replied.

“Fine.”  Zuko sat down.  “You know, I’m not really good at this whole talking thing but I think there’s something on your mind.”

“The South Pole doesn’t feel like home anymore,” Katara said softly.

“Is that why you’ve been bouncing around from place to place?”  Katara nodded.  “Why doesn’t it feel like that?”

“It’s just…different.”

“Ok…”

“It’s not the same feeling!  I know there are people who care about me there and I was born there but it just doesn’t feel the same.  It doesn’t feel like the Western Air Temple or Ember Island!”

“Maybe because home means something different now?”  Zuko offered.

Katara snorted.  “When did you get so philosophical?”

“I spent years with Uncle, something must have rubbed off in that time.”

@officialzutaramonth

anonymous asked:

Bellamy is looking so hot. It's no wonder Clarke is staring at him so much. Season 4 is going to be so good!

Honestly with Clarke’s hair now looking half decent, my bi ass could not figure out who I was more attracted to in the promos. I’m lit, 10 more days

elvenelegy  asked:

Do you ever have days where you look at a work-in-progress and think, "this is terrible, there's too much work left to be done, and I've tricked myself into thinking I could ever do it in the first place"? How do you get through those days and keep working? -Sincerely, a young writer at her first real writer's conference

Yes. Yes I do.

When this happens, I close the laptop, stare at the ceiling for a bit, clean the toilet, eat something with protein, drink a glass of water, cue up the BSG soundtracks, and go back in. In writing, as in so many things, the only way out is through, and you just have to sit in the chair and do it.

It helps if you promise yourself you can have cookies when you’re done, but under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you eat the cookies first. This is called a “preward”, and, to quote @kierstenwhite, it never works.

“I don’t even know why I try to maintain a blog anymore. I’m often too tired or too busy to be online, and, when I do sit down and try to write drafts, I fall asleep after finishing only one! Gone are the days where I could write from sunset to sunrise. My energy and motivation have left me, and all I’m left with is myself staring blankly at a folder of drafts I know I’ll never complete.”

2

Wedding Day Worries

Words:943
Dad!Steve Rogers X Female Reader
Imagine: The morning of their wedding the reader starts to have second thoughts. The wedding is starting to feel forced, they’re not sure if this is what they want after all, but one look at her father Captain America tells her everything she needs to know. The world isn’t so scary as long as you know you have at least one person in your corner at all times. 

All you could do was stare at yourself in the mirror not in vanity, but in astonishment. You couldn’t believe the picture-perfect model staring curiously though the mirror was actually your own reflection. You’d gotten so use to seeing yourself covered in motorcycle grease, with your hair twisted in a messy bun on the top of your head, you had almost forgotten what you looked like after a shower let alone with make-up and a designer dress on. Your hair was all pulled together in a complicated braid design you’d never be able to replicate in a hundred years. There were about forty silk flowers woven and fixed up and down the massive braid making you look more like the Disney princess Rapunzel than you thought would be possible.

What were you thinking? This wasn’t you at all! Why had you wants such a frilly, pastel wedding? Why had you let your best friend talk you into wearing your hair in this stupid braid? Why were you wearing flip-flops? Where did they come from anyway? You didn’t even remember buying flip-flops, yet there they were, your toes tucked between the thronged straps of a pair of sandals.

Keep reading

The problem is less that autistic people aren’t speaking, and much more that non-autistic people won’t stop.

Today is Autistics Speaking Day. I have something to say to non-autistic people. Can you listen?


Marvin and I went out to eat after protesting the 2014 Autism Speaks walk with ASAN Vancouver. From the moment we entered the restaurant, a patron sitting and eating with her family was openly staring at me and my wheelchair.

It seemed like this person really had a problem with me when I got out of my wheelchair to fold it up and sit at the only place we could-  the table right next to her and her family. The staring got really obvious then. When Marvin brought over our food and McStaringson saw that we were going to stay and eat there, she got very uncomfortable.

I was tired, 110% finished with non-autistics, hungry, and overloaded in all of my senses. In that moment I cared a sub-zero amount about looking non-autistic, or less obviously disabled. I just did my thing and ignored McStaringson. I made no eye contact with anyone. I didn’t force any facial expressions. I was rocking in my seat, and I very likely flapped my hands when I saw our food coming.

When she couldn’t take it anymore (and she didn’t last long) McStaringson leaned over and pointed me out to her family. From the table immediately next to us. She was upset. I could hear her very clearly, but I’m sure she wanted me to. She actually managed to convince her teenage kids and spouse to get up and leave their food, which none of them had finished, so that she could get away from me as fast as possible.

I never went back to that restaurant. It took a little time and a lot of gritting my teeth to be able to eat in public again.


I have tried to talk about this three times in the presence of non-autistic people. All three times I was met with disbelief, justification, or correction- as if I were wrong about the thing that happened to me. Perhaps you’re feeling bristly and defensive yourself. Perhaps you’re already composing a #NotAllAllistics response like the ones I have heard in real space.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I’m sure you misunderstood.”

“Maybe she was leaving for some other reason.”

“Well, don’t autistic people struggle with understanding facial expressions…?”

They spoke for me, over me. They were so unwilling to hear what I was saying or believe that ableism is a widespread problem to which everyone is owed some responsibility, that they denied reality and my experiences.

And yet, this is the same kind of person who expresses dismayed surprise when they are finally confronted with an act of violent ableism or obvious oppression that they can’t deny. The denial of our daily lived experiences is the foundation for more obvious forms of oppression, but they can’t see the link. That link needs to be pointed out and the silencing needs to stop.

It’s not so much that autistic people aren’t speaking. We are speaking. It’s that so few are listening, and the rest of you won’t stop speaking over us. Our voices get drowned out. Often this is intentional. Sometimes it is the result of a true ignorance about autistic people and our lives, or the wrong belief that autistic people need someone to speak for them. But allies can help fight this ignorance and slay that insidious lie.

When an autistic person shares their lived experiences, believe and support them. When we have something to say, listen. Value our knowledge. Share our words so they fly farther. Amplify our voices, no matter how we communicate. I would say that the Autistics Speaking Day hashtags are an excellent place to start.

#AutisticsSpeakingDay #ASDay

even and isak talking about how they fell in love with each other gives me so much life you guys,

  • one day they’re in bed and they’re just cuddling and idk the subject comes up and even casually says something like, “oh man i was falling so hard for u and u barely gave me the time of the day” and isak is like. wHAT
  • isak is just sO surprised when even’s like, yeah i was pretty sure u didn’t really like me. 
    • “but?? you caught me staring at you 738935 times???”
    • “ah but you were so quiet and staring could really mean anything i didnt want to misinterpret it”
    • “but i told u about my rapping skills???”
    • “is that………….the best flirting you could do isak. wow. how did we even start dating.”
  • isak looking back at every time even bumped him with his shoulder and said something kind of cool and vague and realizing. that was flirting. even was flirting with him the whole time. i mean he knew it wasn’t friendly but he thought it was just even being charming. but nah. even was highkey hitting on him.
    • isak wakes up in the middle of night, grabs even by the arm. “even. wake up. did you really forget your ID or was it just a way to hang out with me.”
    • *groan* “yes isak it was just a way to hang out with you how did u not realize till now i swear to god. next thing u know u’ll be telling me u didnt know the only reason i made cheese toasties was so u wouldnt realize u probably should leave.”
    • wHAT
    • THE CHEESE TOASTIES WERE A LIE??
  • isak confesses to internet stalking even, and even loVES IT. he never stops teasing isak about it tbh he’s just like “oh my god i can’t believe you were so iN LOVE with me, man, you had the bIGGEST crush on me,” and isaks just like “yeah yeah shut up at least i didnt make up a lame excuse to hang out with you. why dont u have any social media anyways?? u some sort of hipster??
    • so much banter. guys. its embarrassing.
  • they were both so in love with each other and they BOTH thought the other wasn’t really interested what kind of fanfic bullshit is this i love them so much

the scary thing was that i missed you even when we were still talking. the midnight text messages that said you loved me weren’t the feel of your skin. i could talk for hours about my day and it still didn’t feel like you had been there. things were different without you, duller, less full of love. and i missed you, almost always, to the extent that something simple like breakfast made me stare up at the ceiling, wishing i could share it with you.

My Aesthetic
  • Even noticing Isak the first day of school, weeks before Isak ever even noticed him
  • Even probably having his own moment when Isak had some sort of epic slow-motion walk as he went by
  • Even probably staring at Isak a lot 
  • Even sitting himself in the cafeteria in a place where Isak could easily see him just in case
  • Even joining Kose JUST TO MEET ISAK
  • Even seating himself near Isak and then looking at him when Vilde says to group up
  • Even leaving to go find Isak after he leaves bc “no it took me weeks to get near you where the f did you go you adorable boy”
  • Even doing that dumb thing with the tissues as a conversation starter
  • Even looking at Emma when she comes up to them outside like “this bich…”
  • Even immediately claiming Isak as his partner when Emma intrudes bc “back off chick I saw him first. I’ve been after him for WEEKS there ain’t no way you steppin up on this now. yeah you heard that right. WEEKS.”
  • Even “forgetting” his id just so he can invite Isak over
  • Even knowing about Isak’s rapping skills which mean he did so much stalking of his own
  • “like hey that cute dude in the snapback whats his name?” “oh he raps that’s cool” “what year is he” “yo is he single?”
  • ((CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS JUST UP TO EPISODE TWO! I know Even probably won’t be the main for season 4 but I want to know more about him and him noticing Isak and what he does and ughhhhh)

“Just do what I’m doing,” Alicia says, fighting to keep herself from laughing.

“I am!” Bob’s looking at her with eyebrows raised so high he looks like the ‘after’ photo of a botox catastrophe. “I feel like I’m doing exactly what you’re doing.”

“That can’t feel natural. Relax your face. You’re supposed to look surprised, not horrified.”

Whatever gene gives hockey players their talent must feed off their acting abilities; she’s worked with a few in her day and none of them could manage more than some stiff lines delivered with blank stares. It doesn’t seem to get better with practice, at least not in Bob’s case.

The doorbell rings and they both stand quickly, giving each other reassuring looks before making their way to the front door.

Jack stands in the doorway with Eric, and Alicia pretends not to notice their hands linked together until the timing is right.

“Maman, Papa, you know I said I wanted to introduce you to someone special?”

“Of course we remember Eric, dear,” Alicia says fondly.

“We’re dating.”

Alicia schools her expression into a practiced look of polite surprise, and pinches Bob as his cue to do the same.

“Uh, Dad? What’s wrong with your face?”

@mimimojo said: “So I saw a Victor body pillow on Facebook and was wondering if you could write a fic where Yuuri has one and hides it with all his other Victor fan stuff under his bed or something and Victor finds it”

He’d just been looking for a bedsheet.

“Ack! Victor! No!

Victor blinked, wondering why Yuuri would sound so panicked over bedding (clean bedding, even), and then he tugged the pillow free.

And found himself face-to-face with… himself.

The body pillow was obviously of high quality, if somewhat dubious in origin, with Victor lounging luxuriously on the cover, bedroom eyes aimed at the holder.

Victor was impressed.

Yuuri was…

Victor didn’t turn his head, but he was fairly certain Yuuri had lost all color.

“Amazing. They even got my eyes right,” he complimented, undecided as to whether to laugh or not.

A body pillow. Of him. Victor wasn’t exactly surprised it existed, but to find one here while looking for a bedsheet of all things…

Yuuri made a noise like a dying animal. A very small, very cute animal, but a dying one all the same.

“Ah,” said Yuuri’s sister, poking her head into the room. “I forgot you had that thing.”

Hhrrghk,” said Yuuri.

“You and Yuuko saved up for ages for it, remember—” She caught sight of Victor and covered her mouth. “Ah. Never mind.”

Nee-san!

Flattery. Flattered was the correct response, Victor decided, to having his image worked for by not only Yuuri’s very cute friend, but Yuuri himself.

Yuuri seemed to unfreeze, bodily shoving his sister out the door and slamming it behind her.

This, incidentally, shut him in with Victor.

Victor swore he could sense the moment this occurred to him.

Taking pity and more than a little amused, Victor spoke.

“Well, it certainly looks comfortable.” Then, because he really just couldn’t resist, he added, “Not as comfortable as me, though, I assure you.”

(Now, if only he could convince Yuuri to test that out…)

Victor,” said Yuuri, in a tone that suggested he was going to make any witnesses of this incident disappear, himself included.

Victor glanced over and pulled his most innocent face. “Are you doubting me? I can prove it, you know.”

No.

Yuuri was adorably red.

“Are you sure?” Victor wheedled, utterly charmed.

Yes,” hissed Yuuri, and Victor watched the color climb up to his ears.

It was possible that Victor was having too much fun with this.

Only possible.

“Then I’ll have to prove it to myself,” Victor decided, regarding the pillow with something not unlike rivalry.

“Prove…?” Yuuri echoed dumbly, looking between the two Victors while the color in his face rose higher and higher.

“Of course! Which Victor is more comfortable — it’s a battle.”

Then Victor grinned over his shoulder. “And you can judge!”

Yuuri’s glasses slid down his nose.

I could stay up all night talking to you.

And today….
Is the day I think I will.

I hope you realize how quickly I’m falling for you.
All of your quirks, your stares, your charm.

Your warm smile, your big hands and messy morning hair.
The thought of you lying in bed talking to me sends thrills down my spine and butterflies to take flight in my stomach.

I’m falling so fast.
.
.
.

—  10:41
He has someone else

Hi guys! As promised, this is the One Shot of Harry cheating. Hope you’ll like it!

Plot: Harry’s girlfriend is confronted with the knowledge that he’s cheating on her and has no choice but to deal with the consequences. 

Warnings: There’s hints on smut as well as a smut scene, but it’s not too dirty. 

The pic isn’t mine, but oh so beautiful. 

It was Wednesday when the life I loved ended.

The day had started and been nothing but completely ordinary, until now. Because at this moment, both of my hands were numb, shaking and sweaty. My lips were bitten and I couldn’t recall when my eyes last had to fight so hard to keep the wave of tears at bay.
Nick had meant well, as he always did, being one of the nicest people I knew. He was staring at me, unsure what to say and I could read by his expression that he was doubting both, my sanity and whether or not he had made the right decision to tell me. His words kept replaying in my mind, becoming louder and louder by the minute until they resounded inside my head as a yell.

“Harry has been sleeping with a girl he met in LA for a while now. About 3 months, I’d say, but… maybe a little more than that.”

At first I hadn’t believed him. Because how could it be true? Harry and I loved each other and neither of us could ever betray the other like this, right? Understanding my doubts, Nick had grimaced and pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons before turning the screen so I had a perfect view onto the numerous texts he had received from Harry. They had proven everything and told the story how he had met her and how, though he’d felt bad, had slipped into a relationship with her. My vision had blurred once I got to the part of him describing what had gone through his head while sleeping with her for the first time, and I had felt sick.
The reality of it all had yet to kick in as my mind tried and failed to make sense of it at all. It was most certainly not what I had expected to hear when Nick had called me this morning and asked if I could meet him for coffee. I’d expected it to be about Harry’s upcoming birthday. Sure, a little early, but hadn’t we started to plan his birthday party early last year as well? We had been so in love back then and, at least as I thought, still were. All the butterflies in the world erupted in our tummies when the other smiled. Our hearts beat in the same rhythm. We had the kind of connection every couple desired to have themselves and therefor stirred jealousy in them.
The smile left my lips as all blood drained form my face. Nothing would be the same from now on, I realized. The life I’d led for the past two years was about to end and turn into an unpredictable and unwanted replacement.

“Y/N?” Nick’s voice was soft and low.

One of his hands which had both been clasping his coffee mug reached out for me and took a gentle hold of my wrist. His kitchen in which we sat, suddenly seemed awfully small and a restlessness settled into my bones.

“You are welcome to stay here. I have two spare rooms so… you’d have your space. It’d be easy.”

Nothing about any of this was or would ever be easy.
Harry had held a girl who wasn’t me. His lips had kissed someone, other than me. He had sex with a girl. And she was not me. What made the tears fall from my eyes and spill onto my cheeks, what caused my heart to shatter into pieces was, how just because he had her, he hadn’t stopped holding me at night. Harry and I had still kissed, often, and with so much love we lost our breaths and believed to be in a different world. He had still come to bed with me and touched me, and looking back I could not recall feeling any less loved. But I must have been lacking his love for a long time, because otherwise, I would have surely been enough, right?
The skin of both cheeks was wet and no will was left in me to somehow stop the tears from spilling freely from my eyes. Nick’s expression of sadness and regret increased with each cry and yelp slipping from my lips.

“Y/N,” he spoke in a pleading tone, though I believed neither of us knew what he was pleading me for.

“I appreciate it, Nick,” I whimpered, sounding utterly ironic, “for telling me. I know that I-”

A sob wrecked through my body, interrupting my sentence and I briefly shut my eyes and attempted to catch a breath.

“You love H-Harry and he… what I mean to say is thank you so much, Nick…”

“Of course, Y/N,” he answered gently, a hesitant, yet warm smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

I tried to give him a smile back and raised my own mug to my lips, taking a small sip from the lukewarm camomile tea. Nick’s eyes followed my movements.

“What do you think you’re going to do next?” he asked quietly.

My shoulders lifted and lowered in a shrug and my aching lungs filled with air when I took a deep breath.

“I think I’ll go home.”

….

The sound of my home front door falling shut behind me had a shiver rush over my skin. The noise echoed almost in a mocking way and I hurried to drop the keys in the small bowl we kept by the wooden hall-stand next to the entrance. My feet made their way to the kitchen where I began the ordinary task of making tea in hopes a warm liquid to drink would calm my distraught emotions. To my great luck the tears had ceased to fall during the quiet car ride. Nick had insisted to drive which allowed me to settle down in my seat and try to collect my thoughts. Though I had not quite figured out how, I knew what I needed to set as a goal from this day forward. Ending what had been Harry’s and mine relationship for the past two years. There would be a lot to decide, plan and organize, finding a new home was at the top of that list, and no matter how much this all pained me, it was the only thing I could do.

Harry had taken someone new to be his partner, and though it may ‘only’ have been in the physical sense so far, it might as well have become an emotional connection by this point. It wouldn’t have mattered much concerning my decision. This wasn’t something I could possibly tolerate. The only thing knowing he was only in it for the physical act brought me, was a strange sense of relief. One that I couldn’t explain.  
Harry and I had stopped being the happy couple we had been for a long time, exactly 3 months and 2 weeks ago. That was, I assumed, not a coincidence and marked the day he had started to seek comfort in someone else. 14 weeks ago. 14 weeks, in which every sign, act and word of love had meant absolutely nothing.

I flinched when the front door opened loudly and slammed shut, indicating Harry’s return home. He didn’t call out to actually announce he was back, just like he hadn’t done in a long time. My fingers hastily rubbed my cheeks, drying them off and with both eyes squeezed shut I willed myself not to scream. I didn’t turn around when I heard his steps coming closer until he stopped to stand in the doorway.

“Hi,” he spoke, nothing but plain indifference in his voice.

Taking a deep breath I looked over my shoulder, wearing a fake smile like a mask while my hands brushed over the wrinkled shirt I wore.
His appearance robbed me of my last breath. Everything about Harry was so familiar to me, I probably could have described him in detail without having seen him in a month. And still, now that I was looking at his body, his effortless beauty felt overwhelming. The soft and slightly curled brown hair was styled up, freeing his forehead and making room for his green eyes to sparkle without any disobedient strands covering them. He stood tall, adorning the typical black and tight jeans combined with an almost see through white shirt, complimenting his physic by showing off every muscle. He looked like and angel. Perhaps that was why I had stayed a fool for so long. My gaze left his again and I turned to look back at my hands.

“Hi,” I breathed, pretending to be busy reorganizing our tea supplies. “I didn’t expect you to be home already.”

“It’s 7 PM. When else was I supposed to be back?”

Any other time you please, I thought. His words and the faint tone of mockery in them stung, as Harry hadn’t come home by the time he’d promised he would in a while. But I let it go.

“Right,” I mumbled, “How silly of me.”

“What’s for dinner?” he demanded, unfazed by my reply, just as if he hadn’t heard it at all.

Before I had gone to meet Nick, I had prepared a lasagna for Harry and I, thinking a nice dinner might give as a chance to talk a bit. Now it seemed like a joke when I stared at the food in the oven, watching how its crust slowly began to melt.

“It should be warm in about ten minutes,” I quietly informed the man standing impatiently by the counter, his phone in his hand, clearly not granting me any of his attention, “I’m not feeling too well, so… I’ll be upstairs.”

From the moment I exited the kitchen, I felt as if I was separated from my body. It couldn’t be my feet which moved up the stairs, fleeing from the man I loved. It wasn’t me who’s palms pressed the door to Harry’s and my bedroom shut and it certainly couldn’t be me who’s fingers turned the key in its lock with so little hesitation, locking him out. I refused to believe that the girl kneeling in the middle of the room, with her shoulders shaking as sobs and cries wrecked through her entire body, was me. But it was. And no matter how hard I tried not to, there was no resisting against the despair I was feeling. All of a sudden every last bit of strength left me alone with my excruciating pain and I felt utterly defeated.
The walls of our house were thin. So thin actually, Harry had often even claimed he could hear my every move upstairs over the TV playing in the living room. Back then this had made me laugh, now it gave me the knowledge that Harry could hear every painful noise coming from me. And the fact that there was no knock on the door made clear that he really didn’t care. He was punishing me with total indifference.
My trembling fingers reached for my phone and opened Nick’s chat, typing one simple message.

Don’t tell him I know.

….

Today it marked 17 days since I had learned of Harry’s betrayal and until two days ago I hadn’t done anything to work towards settling everything to leave him.

Harry had taken no notice of my despair. He hadn’t commented on my swollen and red eyes when I’d faced him after that awful first night and neither had he mentioned the fact that he’d had to sleep in our guest room, given that I had fallen asleep without unlocking the bedroom door for him. He hadn’t spoken one word about it, but instead stopped coming home most nights. And when he did, then he either behaved horrible to me or stayed silent all together. Simply put: we had become even less of a couple than what we had been anyway.
Noises like his rough voice announcing his departure or sights like him swallowing down his food without chewing so he could run off again, had me longingly miss the times where we hadn’t been able to get enough of each other.
I’d picked up on my plan only two days ago, after spending the night before with one of my best friends, Kate, who was quick to put me into my place. 

* one night earlier *

The heavy taste of alcohol on my tongue left my head feeling dizzy and my body in an almost tingling state. It needed more concentration on my part not to fall off the bar stool than it had in the beginning of the night, but I didn’t mind at all. This was exactly what I needed to relieve me from my ache. Next to me sat my friend Kate, very tipsy herself but in a much better shape than I was. She rested a gentle hand on my wrist and lectured me on my life choices.

“I know you love him still,” she said.

I shrugged and lifted my shot glass, tossing it back and swallowing the burning liquid. Though some days had passed, I hadn’t learned how to live with the newly gained knowledge of Harry’s unfaithfulness and until now I’d simply tried to push it to the little corner far away at the back of my head.

“I cannot comprehend what went wrong, Kate. What it was that I did to send him away.”

“You didn’t do anything, babe,” she spoke kindly.

Her blue eyes fixated on me and though I could tell that she didn’t approve of me drinking another shot, she didn’t comment it. It was my fourth tequila of the night and by this point, even my fingers began to tingle.

“I do love him. That’s why I haven’t kicked him out yet,” I admitted, my focus set on the tiny drops left at the bottom of my glass, “Well, that and the fact that the house is his.”

My sticky hands brushed over the skin of my cheeks as I hid my face behind them, shaking my head repeatedly. The liquor I had consumed kept the feelings at bay as I was, once again, overcome with the pure emotion of betrayal. My tears were kept from forming in my eyes and after taking one last deep breath I removed my palms, facing my friend.

“I love him, Kate, love him so, so much.”

I swallowed noisily as my heart fell to the pit of my stomach. Over the past few days I had been overcome with thoughts and memories of Harry and I whenever someone mentioned his name. The image of him lazily smiling at me as we lay in bed together after a stressful day was one that came back often. There had been a time in which it was part of our night routine, right after showering together, drying each other’s skin off and shortly before we began to make out tiredly. My stomach turned at the thought of what had become of that lovely ritual.

“Harry, he’s… everything. I mean…” I trailed off completely, my mind slow as it tried to find the right words to explain the situation I was in, “At least he has been so far and now that’s just supposed to change? I can’t make sense of it at all.”

“You didn’t choose any of this,” Kate spoke softly, taking a sip from her own drink, “Of course you don’t now how to make sense of it.”

“You know what’s the worst about all of this?” I asked.

The loud music around us seemed to quieten, as if anticipating what I had to say next. The air of the room felt so tense as if I could touch it.

“He still had sex with me.”

Tears shot to my eyes at the confession but I forced myself to ignore them, hoping they’d go away again. Kate’s brows furrowed as she, though understanding the pain I was in, didn’t know what I was getting at yet. My swollen eyes briefly focused on her face before moving to fixate on the empty glass I held between two fingers.
My next word voiced what had been frightening my for the past week, something I could only admit to someone as close to me as Kate without feeling embarrassed.

“Bare.”

Her forehead set into a frown as she failed to follow my trail of thoughts. Then it seemed to dawn on her and for the first time since I’d told her of the dilemma I was in, Kate truly looked like she didn’t know what to do to help me.

“Are you… Y/N, did he knock you up?”

I let my head fall back before shaking it vigorously. “No. I’m not pregnant.”

“Then what is it you’re trying to tell me?”

“Harry fucked me bare because he likes it better that way. How do I know he didn’t do that with her as well, Kate? That he didn’t have his way with the both of us, without using a condom?”

“Sweetie,” Kate began slowly, still unsure of what it was I was trying to say, “what is it?”

“What if she’s ill?” I asked, staring at my friend with desperation.

“No,” Kate shook hear head as her eyes filled with sadness, realizing how frightened I was, “We’re not even going down that road, Y/N. Stop troubling your mind.”

“You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility,” I argued.

Cold fear ran down my back and settled into every cell of my body. The thought that Harry’s infidelity may have caused me to have a sexually transmitted disease like HIV, had begun to burden me that very same night I had learned of his lover.
Kate, who’s hand still rested on my shoulder, smiled and squeezed me gently. Her eyes still held a softness, but their usual confidence had returned.

“You are fine,” she decided and with a final short increase of pressure to my shoulder, she released me and snapped her fingers to get the bartender’s attention.

Kate’s obvious beauty had caught his eyes easily and the young male was quick to follow her request of bringing us two more shots. Once we received them, Kate clinked her glass to mine, her prefect eyebrows raised and a certain smile pulling at her lips.

“You’ll go home and get to packing your things. You can stay at my place until you’ve found something else, that’s not an issue.”

My mind rushed back to the moment Nick had offered the same thing and though my heart still ached, I was overcome with a warmth as I once more learned how good hearted my friends were.

“Thank you.”

Kate shook her head and held up one finger. “I’m not done yet. You need to get out of that house and away from him. That’s your part. Get all your things sorted out and plan a good way to dump him. Make it brutal!”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she went on talking before I had a chance.

“In the meantime, I will get us both a doctor’s appointment. I won’t let you run around with that stupid worry in your head.”

She downed her shot and squeezed her eyes shut as the liquid burned her throat.

“Thank you,” I repeated, meaning it with all of my heart.

Her arm nudged mine. “What are best friends for, huh? Besides, I could use a check-up as well. It’s been a while since I’ve gone in and made sure my most precious region is alright.”

The laugh that escaped me at that comment was probably the most honest one I’d let out since losing Harry and I made a metal note to from now on keep in mind, that you might just get by with a little help from your friends.

….

It was now day five since Kate had ordered me to get everything arranged and so far it was save to say that I was doing fine. I had received several replies from landlords who were willing to rent their apartment to me, one rather eager woman had even been friendly enough to send out a handwritten welcoming letter. I’d gone through my options, but before I would actually go and look at them, I had decided to take up Kate’s offer and stay at her place.
We hadn’t decided on a date for me to move in yet, but she kept it easy and had simply said I could come over whenever I’ve had enough of my cheating boyfriend. The day would come soon, I knew that, but I strangely didn’t dread it so much anymore. It was a strange thing to describe, but the whole planning process gave me an almost thrilling feeling and though I still wasn’t happy about having to leave my home and the man belonging to it, it wasn’t as bad as it had been in the beginning. I could somehow see where my future would be going and that certainty gave me strength.
Kate had kept her word and so we had both been to the doctor’s and though the HIV test needed a couple more weeks until the results were ready, I was clean from any other STDs. This knowledge relieved me from a great burden that had weighted on my shoulders and even lifted my spirit a little. 
That spirit darkened however the moment I was left alone with Harry for too long. Though I hadn’t seen much of Harry in the past days. I didn’t know where he went as he didn’t bother to tell me and I didn’t want to ask either. Never would he actually own up to where he was, but even if he did, I couldn’t bear the thought of hearing her name falling from his lips, along with some useless explanation.

Speaking of the devil, I heard the front door fall shut and a pair of feet walking noisily down the hall. I quietly shut the bedroom door and hurried to hide the few bags I had already packed by pushing them under the bed. I hadn’t stuffed them with anything he would have noticed gone. They were mostly filled with female products, a couple of shirts and some books, little things I could carry myself and didn’t need the moving company for.
Just as I was rising to my feet again, the bedroom door opened and Harry stepped inside. My heart beat so hard and fast I believed he must hear it, too and I clenched my hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice the letters addressed to me laying on our bed. Though I had somehow come to terms with my situation, seeing him was difficult. He still looked so much like my Harry. The one I had loved and cherished for two years, the person I’d given anything to and whom I believed I would spend all of my life with. His angel like face still looked the same, aside from the softness it had lost over the past months. The green of his eyes still shone with warmth despite their cold color and I had to remind myself to not look at them for too long, or else I might imagine finding love in them.

“What are you doing?”

His voice was rough and came to me as a surprise. After not having him heard say more than one word for several days, it almost felt foreign to hear him speak.

“I was just tiding up a bit,” I lied.

He gave a slow nod as reply and I bit my lip, unsure of what to do or say next. My eyes met his and for a moment I believed to see the same uncertainty in them as I knew mine held. When had we become such strangers?

There had been a time in which Harry and I had been inseparable. No matter where we’d gone, he would have always been touching me somehow. We’d walked with interlocked hands, stood with our arms wrapped around each other, his around my shoulders and mine around his waist and we sat with either his hand on my knee if we were in public or my feet in his lap when we were at home. When things got heated between us, which they had often, I would somehow end up sitting in his lap, grinding my hips to his whilst kissing down his neck and afterwards, when we’d lay in bed, he’d have his head on my chest and our legs tangled together.
If someone would have asked me back then if I believed we’d ever end up where we were now, my answer would have been a strong and certain no. Not ever. Us falling out of  love seemed as unlikely as snow in August.

“Alright,” he mumbled and then leaned down to have a closer look at the letters on our sheets.

My heart stopped when he picked up the envelopes.

“What’s this?” he asked, a frown appearing on his forehead.

I went cold when I recognized the envelope as the one holding the handwritten letter inviting me to look at an apartment east from here.

“Nothing,” I spoke quickly, but calm enough not to alarm him, “just an invitation.”

For a moment I believed to have my Harry back, because suddenly I could see something in his head clicking, as if he, in that moment, knew that I was hiding something from him. A flash of realization crossed his face and my mind rushed to make up a story, but before I could even begin to explain myself, the spark in his eyes was gone. His indifference towards anything considering me was back and he let the letter fall onto the mattress with a court nod.

“Okay, well,” he began and cleared his throat, “I’ll be out.”

….

The house was quiet when Harry entered it, finding the hallway deserted. Though a lot had changed for him in the past months, coming home meant looking for me. Even now, considering everything, the habit had stayed and so he timidly turned to enter the living room. There I was, laying on the couch, feigning to be asleep so I could avoid him. I briefly wondered when I had begun to follow the noise of his feet wherever he went. When had this become the only way for me to know where he was or what he was doing?
My act was broken when his fingers stroking my left cheek ripped me from my thoughts. He stared at me with surprise when my eyes shot open and for a moment we both seemed to be holding our breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke hastily.

For what, I wondered, waking me from my pretended sleep or for ruining everything we’d had for someone else?

His forehead was pulled into a frown. “I didn’t intend to wake you up.”

“It’s alright, Harry.”

He gave a short nod. With him crouched by my side I could clearly see every detail of his beautiful and kind face, the evident jaw and the clear sparkle in his deep green eyes. All of a sudden the urge became too much and I reached out my hand, trailing the tips of my fingers along the skin of his soft cheek. My heart stopped beating when I felt the faint movement of him leaning into my touch. All breath left my lungs when his own hands lifted, one settling on the curve of my waist as the other clasped my wrist, keeping my hand on his face.
I stared at him with wide eyes. He seemed just as surprised at the affection we were showing each other, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his face slowly leaned in, coming closer and closer until the tip of his nose gently nudged mine. I held my breath. A mixture of fear, excitement and sadness settled at the pit of my stomach. My heart picked up on speed and beat so fast as if it was trying to flatter away.
Though I hadn’t felt the touch of his lips in a very long time, there was nothing unfamiliar to his kiss. When he leaned in further and began to really move his lips, I wasn’t at all surprised that my own knew exactly how to fit to them. Warm hands wandered to my jaw, trailed down to my breasts where they stroked the skin for a moment before lowering further to my hips. Crawling into a sitting position without breaking the contact wasn’t easy, but I somehow managed and before I knew it my knees where on either side of his narrow waist and we were kissing while he hoisted me up and swiftly carried me to where our bedroom was.
We hadn’t laid on this bed together in a long time, I realized when he lowered me onto the mattress, but I pushed the thought away once his body came back into view. Harry’s eyes found mine and I could see uncertainty in them. Suddenly his touches didn’t feel as sure anymore and he hesitated before climbing to kneel over me. Though there was still lust evident in his orbs, I could also recognize a hint of sorrow and regret in them. He was breathing hard and the light hold he still had on my hips tightened, as if he worried I would disappear. Still wanting to ease his pain whenever he felt it, I reached out and gently brought his face down to mine, where I leaned up to press little kisses to his forehead, his temple and lastly his right cheek.

I knew it wasn’t right. Him and I shouldn’t be looking at each other like this anymore. We shouldn’t be touching each other’s skin like we loved one another and wanted to care for the other’s wellbeing. Harry’s mouth wasn’t supposed to settle onto my neck while his fingers freed me from all my clothing as my own hands did the same to him and the little moan escaping me when he pressed his naked frame to mine should not have left my mouth. And still it happened, with no no awkwardness between us. It wasn’t difficult to open my legs for him like I had done so many times before. Holding onto him felt like finding the home I had lost and feeling the warmth of his breath fan over my face as we kissed, somehow settled my nerves.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, his voice sounding rough and quiet next to my ear.

I could hear the question in his tone, asking for permission to continue.

“Condom,” I replied, my thoughts rushing back to the discussion I had had with Kate.

There was still a risk if we’d have unprotected sex now, a risk I didn’t want to take. A frown formed on Harry’s lovely face as he raised his head so he could look at me. I knew it felt better with no condom on, for the both of us. But I wouldn’t give in.

“I forgot to take my pill,” I lied.

He didn’t look as if he believed it and once again I swore to see a flash of realization cross his features. But he didn’t say anything, and instead silently moved to reach his black jeans. I didn’t ask when I saw him pull out a condom form the back pocket and instead tried really hard not to think about the woman he had bought the condom for, as he hadn’t used any with me for a year.
His tattooed chest moved rapidly and I noticed his fingers shake a little as I watched him put the latex on. His green eyes found mine before he slowly began to lean back down and over me again. The green of his eyes locked with mine as he came impossibly close. Our mouths met in a heavy kiss which said so much more than any of the words we had exchanged in the past few weeks. A kiss I broke off when a gasp fell from my mouth, a reaction to Harry bringing his hips forward and connection us in the most intimate way.

My heart burst and my tummy tingled. Harry’s hands touched me with such a gentle care it made me cry. He didn’t notice the silent tears running down my cheeks, too caught up in his own pleasure, though I could tell he was different than normally.
Sex with him had always been a big deal and meant a lot to the both of us. Sure, we’d had our fair share of short and rushed fucks in situations where we just couldn’t wait, but most of the time, it was about experiencing the open vulnerability and the other’s trust.
But tonight, it appeared to hold even more meaning to him. His movements, though firm and deliberate, weren’t harsh. He didn’t want to force me to an orgasm, but rather tried to gently coax it out of me. My lips were swollen from the kisses he left on them every now and again and I gently pressed them to the skin of his neck, sucking on it, leaving a final mark.

It felt good, even when it wasn’t supposed to. And when I came I cried even more, knowing that this would be the last time I’d feel Harry this close to me. Never would we be as connected to each other again. His moan followed suit and his body tensed above mine as he released. Our breathing continued to puff out rapidly and I whimpered when Harry pulled out, only quieting down when he came back to wrap himself around me.
That was it what broke my heart. His head still fit so perfectly into the crook of my neck and our legs tangled together so naturally. The soft snores leaving his mouth calmed my breathing and though I still cried, in that moment I was happy. Tonight, he allowed me to relive some of the hours we had spent together, hours I cherished and missed so badly. He’d allow us those few moments of loving each other goodbye.

I kissed his sleeping face and pulled up the sheets around us, before I secured my arms around his naked torso.

“I love you so much,” I told him in a whisper, “And I’m sorry you had to do this to me.”

A sob wrecked through my chest and I wound a hand into his soft hair, hoping he wouldn’t wake up. I needed him to let me absorb him some more, so I would have this moment as a clear memory.

“I wish you hadn’t found someone better, Harry. Someone else to take my place,” I cried and cursed silently when I was hit by another wave of tears.

“And above all I wish I wouldn’t have to leave you, my love,” I whispered.

My blurry vision settled onto his sleeping face and my heart ached at the knowledge that I would miss him so much more than I was ready for.

“But I do.”

I kissed his head one last time before closing my eyes. Harry hadn’t heard one word and though we both knew the end was coming, we spent that last night together in each other’s arms. Me crying softly as I caressed his hair, oblivious to him being tormented by nightmares.

Hope you enjoyed it and that it didn’t upset you too much. I’m super against forgiving a cheater so that’s why I chose this ending. 
It’s a subject I’m interested in so I’ll probably write something similar in the future. 
Request and feedback are both welcome! Also, please let me know what you think about me making the one shot’s a little longer.