AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can’t do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor’s certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.
That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn’t seem to like him complicates matters, though.
No gym for me today; went to my friend’s wedding shower!
What kickstarted my weight loss/fitness journey a few years back was a really terrible candid photo that I saw of myself. I was so shocked at how I looked to other people and it seriously upset me for weeks until I decided to do something about it. We were all gathering today for a group photo and someone snapped this picture and it truly made me realize how far I have come and how happy I am with my body and myself in general. It has been such a long road to get here but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A little blonder and a few more tattoos, but I can’t even recognize the girl on the left.
“Dude. It’s paintings and poetry. Together. It’s ‘swasome as hell. Da Vinci said it himself — painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”
“Wow. You have all quotes just ready to go, don’t you?”
“Nah, I just opened my book on a random page,” Nursey said, one arm still wrapped around Dex’s shoulders, and showed Dex the page he had read the quote from, making his defense partner snort. It was a side note, written in italics and underlined with a purple marker by Nursey — purple pen meant personal interest, Dex knew already. Just like he knew the red pen was for important stuff, the blue pen was for additional notes, the yellow marker was for the stuff his professor deemed especially important, and the green pen was to underline the lines in poems that were just “mad chill”. Dex had his colored pens right down to an art already and pretended that it wasn’t weird to know so much about Nursey’s studying habits.
“I’d read you one of the poems, but I thought you wouldn’t get it,” Nursey chirped as he finally closed the book. His arm was still around Dex’s shoulders. It was … nice. Weirdly nice.
“You got that right,” Dex chuckled. Seriously, Painting as Poetry? It sounded like a douchey book, assigned for a douchey class. No wonder Nursey was so over the heels for it. “Aren’t those artsy poems meant to be looked at, anyways? Not read out loud? If I remember anything from high school, that shit just sounds weird spoken out loud. Like a broken record.”
“Meh, I guess. But they’re pretty to look at,” Nursey shrugged. His arm was still around Dex’s shoulders. It was getting infuriating. Infuriating in a whole different way than Nursey’s presence usually was.
Dex tried to pretend he didn’t mind, though. In fact, he was almost afraid to move, aside from walking, in case he accidentaly ended this whole new, getting along thing they had going. They were always just one wrongful curve away from an argument, albeit that curve started to getting farther and farther away with each conversation, and he was just curious to see how long it was able to go. It was pure science.
Besides, it was nice. In a way he could all too easily get used to.
“I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.” ― Helena Bonham Carter