#bc this was foul i do think it’s ironic

[boxwinebaddie]

miss nina do u think u could repost wev u had up lastnight??

i'm in my serial deletion and lame ass uninspired girl era ( also i forgot when this was sent so i actually don't even remember what was up ) but if you want to laugh you can have this weird snip i was writing during the r.s. patches up j.k. para in progress where r.k. grabs him a very interesting blanket/pillow combination skldhshdls

weird exposition + lame stan name puns + kyle simping

the worst thing i’ve ever written but we luv 2 laff

[oukabarsburgblr]

Hi! Love your work! I dont know if your requests are open but Id love to see more of your Haikyuu work! Loved the the recent one and i just cant stop rereading it.

I wonder what would happen if reader was hit on by one of the other volleyball players before/after the matches. I just wanna see the three boys get jealous and protective honestly hahahd ofc if you dont want to write this its okay too! ( Ps. I also love ur Daisuke one, i love him hes so cute 🥰🥺 cant wait to see more of ur work )

drabble...aftermath of Karasuno

taglist : @ayuxiru @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer

i stopped working on my haikyuu fics bc i started s4 and i could NOT see atsumus face HAHHAHH idky i HATE HIM ARGH/jk. We love Daisuke in this household. Can anyone tell Daichi is my favourite? HAHA

this will be the last one for the crows CAW CAW

harassed, dark in general

Find out more under the cut!

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

Another team harasses the manager!

[START SCENE]

"Hey! Karasuno's manager! Don't make such an ugly face."

A certain (h/c) frowned, being cornered by tall volleyball players from other schools. He had just went to retrieve the paper rosters from the organizers for their current tournaments at the Sendai Gymnasium where Preliminaries are being held when he was stopped by students from other schools.

"You look like you don't have a lot on your hands right now. Why don't you come with us? Free some tension...you probably need it." A hand grasped (m/n)'s shoulders to which the (h/c) swatted it away. "Don't touch me." He hissed as he tried to move past them but another shoved him back against the walls, them moving closer to the manager.

"Hey hey. We're all friends here, right?" Hissing in pain as the hand lodged in his shoulder pressed his nails further, crinkling his black jumpsuit. "Listen here, fucker. I don't know what household you grew up in, but go ride someone else's dick. Better yet, why don't you go suck each other off? Since you're so desperate for some action."

(m/n) spat, his foul mouth and his temper wasn't a good combination but it was the right mixture for this situation. He pushed the players' arm and was ready to leave until his hair was clenched painfully.

A yelp from (m/n) and the ringleader of the group pulled his face close. "Nice face but a repulsive tongue...damn and I thought we could do this nicely. We'll find a use for your mouth soon." "Let go, asshole-"

Fuck, who do they think they are? The only one grabbing my hair is usually-

"I suggest you let him go."

A heavy voice uttered from behind them, catching the attention of the group. Asahi clasped the hand that seized (m/n)'s head. "Before I break your wrist." He muttered with a death glare, the light in his eyes gone.

"Fuck! Is he the coach or something?!" One of them whispered, scanning his mature features. Someone grasped (m/n)'s hand, pulling him away from the group. "Learn how to take a hint when someone says they don't like you." Sugawara pushed the manager behind him.

"Or go die in some random dump, you trash."

He stated blandly, his voice losing any cheery tone he would always carry. How ironic. (m/n) could never be more glad that the third years were here, clenching the papers in his hand. He felt someone gently pull his bicep.

"Go." Daichi muttered. "The team's around the corner. Go see Kiyoko for..." He brushed (m/n)'s head, where his hair was tousled.

The only one who would usually, or rather the only one, grabbing (m/n)'s head, tugging his hair, digging their nails into his scalp was Daichi Sawamura.

The (h/c) didn't think twice to leave the scene, not leaving a glance to the yelling players who had harassed him, Daichi particularly approaching the one who had pulled (m/n)'s hair.

-

He didn't want to be here anymore, (m/n) lazily draped himself across the railings. Only one manager was allowed on the benches so he and Yachi had to sit up in the audience' seats but he asked for some alone time from Yachi, her concerned about him after hearing that he was disturbed by a team from another school earlier.

Hinata had jumped up and about when (m/n) returned to their team, demanding to know who had hurt his friend and Kiyoko checked his scalp, making sure nothing was broken and everything was fine. Tanaka was adamant on being a good senior and wanting to avenge his manager so he went to help the third years who were confronting the aggressors but immediately retreated, staying quiet when Ennoshita asked what they were up to.

The games started and the first match went well, battling up against a two meter player. Daichi didn't speak to him yet. (m/n) noticed a bruise forming on Asahi's jaw and Sugawara only smiled at him quietly.

Second game came around and (m/n) held back a flight of curses from his mouth when the team Karasuno had to play against were the same players who had cornered him earlier, their captain glaring holes into Daichi. He noticed a few of them were missing, specifically the bitchy ringleader.

"Hey, (m/n). Thought you'd be down there this time."

Oikawa approached his cousin, leaning onto the railings in a similar fashion to the (h/c). "I guess all third years in your team is staying huh." He poked (m/n). "Yeah." He mumbled. "Looks like yours too."

(e/c) glanced at the Seijoh team that were currently watching over Karasuno's briefing by their coach. He noticed a new player. Someone that has a tennis ball for a head.

"Well, we're gonna beat Shiratorizawa this year. I'm gonna show Ushiwaka who's boss." "You say that at every game." The setter slapped (m/n)'s back, the latter yelping and smacking his laughing cousin. "So gloomy and for what? Your team seems to be energetic-...well they're playing more aggressive than usual."

Asahi slammed the ball set by Kageyama, earning a point as the libero was unable to receive the spinning ball. The ace looked furious, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked Kageyama for a faster set. Sugawara was itching to get on the court, pacing around, warming his legs up so he could be ready when he had a chance to play. Daichi was silent, his usual words of affirmation to the team gone. Only Tanaka and Nishinoya cheering when they won a point.

"We're going to win. Against them at least." Daichi muttered, his eyes gazing up at (m/n) when Coach Ukai took a timeout and asked what was wrong and why their play styles had differ today.

(m/n) stared back but quickly looked away when he felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't tell what those insects were trying to tell him. Daichi had warmed his bed a lot for the past month, even his parents assumed he was his boyfriend by how often he had came over to his house.

Karasuno won a fast game. Two sets straight, 25 - 17 and 25 - 13. The last set where all the third years were deployed went by quick, Asahi shining as the MVP.

"Well, that's my cue. I wonder when we'd play against you, it'd be any different." "....It will." Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Thought you'd support me this time. Given how your team lost on our last match." "But they'll win."

(m/n) peered at Oikawa, from the corner of his eyes. "My team will win beating yours, Tooru." The setter only stared down at the manager with a smirk.

"What's with the change of heart?" "..."

He didn't reply, only getting up to greet the team as he stood in the hallways, letting Hinata crash into him. Sugawara pulled the middle blocker off of him. "Now now. Stop causing trouble or Takeda-sensei won't let us watch the other teams play." They were done for the day and as requested by Kageyama, they went to see Seijoh's match.

Sugawara held (m/n) behind however, letting the team go first as they stood in an isolated staircase. He ran his fingers through (h/c) hair, his eyes squinting at the manager as he smiled reassuringly. "I hope you're alright, (m/n). We beat them for you. Those idiots. People who have nothing else to do but lay their waste on innocents like you."

The (h/c) hummed uneasily, leaning his head on the setter's shoulders and his fingers clutching onto the latter's jersey. "I didn't mean to talk to them. They cornered me." "I know, I know." Sugawara cooed, his other hand caressing (m/n)'s back.

A similar but earlier incident had happened, whereas a student confessed to the (h/c), who declined but Hinata excitedly told the team and Sugawara had an outburst in private, accusing (m/n) of cheating behind their backs despite them having no declaration, only taming (m/n) into their current relationship.

"Did I ever scare you? You look at me like I'm going to snap your neck at any second." The setter teased, his hand trailing over (s/c) neck, his fingertips pressing onto (m/n)'s Adam's apple. "No. You wouldn't." That was a bluff.

He had learned that Sugawara had the most violent tantrums out of the three. Paranoid, spiralling about what (m/n) does when he wasn't around. The (h/c) had learned what to say, what to do overtime, to ease the third year.

Said third year smiled at him. "If anyone ever approaches you, like earlier, scream our names okay." He always made sure to include Daichi and Asahi. "Remember, you're our favourite."

He winked at the (h/c) who didn't give much of a reaction, only hugging the setter. Was there any difference between those assholes and the third years in Karasuno? Both of those groups forced him, into these uneasy situations, Karasuno taking a longer approach.

Crows tend to build their nests with meticulous resolve, choosing the right twigs and taking the softest materials for the lining. Karasuno did live up to their name, (m/n) completely accepting his predicament, laying in the den Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi had woven for him.

Sugawara pulled (m/n)'s face up, smiling at him before pressing his lips to the (h/c) who opened his mouth when the setter swiped his tongue on his lips. "Let me hear you, (m/n)." The setter muttered as he pressed his wet muscle against (m/n)'s caressing his palate and pressing their bodies closer.

"Mmnff ahh! N-Not here Suga- ahk!" (m/n) choked when he felt a hand cupping his crotch, his breath shaky and coming out in stutters as he pushed Sugawara's chest. His cheeks were hot and he clenched his fist on Suga's jersey.

"Hahaha is it because we're in public? You'd be much more in trouble with Asahi then." The setter pulled away, letting (m/n) breathe as he dragged him up the stairs and they stepped into the auditorium seating. "Go. You owe me a date for this." He kissed the (h/c)'s forehead before pushing him to the row where Asahi and Daichi were.

The setter walked past them, opting to sit beside the second years, distracting them when they asked where was the manager. Said manager stood nervously, Asahi and Daichi silent, both of them sat in the furthest behind row, whereas everyone was sitting close to the railings to watch the games.

Usually (m/n) had no problem conversing with them, the third years constantly talking first but here they are staying silent. "...Good game." He referred to the two sets they stole from those assholes.

The captain didn't even look at him, only staring into space with a frown on his face. Asahi spared him a glance before beckoning the (h/c) to sit next to him. But as he was about to sit, the brunette pulled his arm, making him land in Asahi's lap instead.

"Huh? What are you-" He was silenced by Daichi's glance, his heart racing as Asahi adjusted him, placing him directly on top his crotch. "Sorry, (m/n)." The ace buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders. "Let me borrow you for a bit."

Here? In public? Where anyone could see him being used like a fucking-

His hands shook as he tried to peel himself off Asahi, but the latter only tightened his hold, crushing his waist with his muscular arms. "I'm sorry." The brunette mumbled apologies and (m/n) could feel his erection pressing up against his pants. He prayed the others wouldn't turn around. Daichi didn't move a finger, (m/n) couldn't read his face as he hopelessly squirmed in Asahi's lap.

He's going to see. He's going to look at me and see me like this.

His heart was beating fast, the ace still breathing heavily behind him and grinding his bottom on him. Daichi still didn't give any reaction. (m/n) felt his heartstrings pulled as the captain didn't give a damn of what was happening to him. Unintentionally, he glorified- favoured? Treasured the ravenette the most, the one who always seemed so distant from him yet was so close and quick to clog his throat-

Tears welled up in his (e/c) eyes as he turned his face away when he saw Tsukishima glanced at him from the corner of his sight. He genuinely prayed that no one else would see him in this shameful state.

Asahi stopped bucking his hips when a high pitched heave escaped from the (h/c)'s throat, (m/n) holding in a sob as he carved his nails into the ace's arm. "Shh...it's fine. No one saw anything. They just think you're sitting on me." He whispered into the manager's ear who shook his head. Tsukishima saw him and he was one of the smart ones. The rest of Karasuno hadn't seen but what about the other teams? Strangers who might pass by their rows. He hated how his three seniors didn't give a damn about his pride.

Asahi didn't make himself obvious, he just wanted to loose some steam is all. In the end, he did use (m/n) like those harassers did albeit tamer than expected but the intentions were there nonetheless. (m/n) whimpered endlessly as he was placed to sit on the cushioned seat in the same one as the ace, still with Asahi seated close behind him. (s/c) hands trembled as he peered at the captain who cruelly ignored him the entire time.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Asahi cooed at him, apologising and kissing his ears while rubbing his waist. Ensuring the (h/c) that he didn't even got off or anything as he whispered sweet nothings with his apparent boner pressing against (m/n)'s back. The manager was much more prone to crying when they were in public.

His hands hugged Azumane's as he leaned back into the ace's body, his attempt to hide his figure as he pulled on the ace's black jacket. "Hic- you're so fucking- mean to me." (m/n) whined as Asahi peppered kisses all over his face, his stubble scratching against his skin.

"I won't do it again." The ace muttered, placing his chin on the manager's head. (m/n) peered up and noticed the forming bruise. His fingers went to delicately trace them. "I knocked his teeth out." Asahi mumbled.

"Would've done more if their manager hadn't come running." (m/n) flinched when he heard Daichi utter. The first he spoke around the (h/c) after the whole harassment he suffered.

Coarse rough fingers covered his eyesight, a fingertip pressing against his right eye lightly, brushing his lashes and the ace placed his face down where (m/n) had his hair violently tugged. "Tell me if you want him to lose more."

(m/n) didn't say anything, only nodding as he let the ace touch his body, caressing his chest and inhaling his scent. He didn't feel bad for the attackers at all. They dug their own grave for being assholes.

He caught Daichi staring at him, the captain still facing straight but his eyes gazed into the (h/c)'s face as he slowly returned his focus back onto Seijoh's match.

(m/n) managed to pull himself off of the ace when the games were over and Karasuno was preparing to leave. He made sure he avoided Tsukishima, not wanting to answer any of his probing questions. He had went ahead to wash the water bottles at a pipe when he heard footsteps behind him.

He looked behind him to see Daichi with the bottle carrier, the captain picking up the clean ones and placing it in its stations while (m/n) finished up the last one. A rare act of kindness from the captain to the (h/c). "Are there any others left?" (m/n) shook his head to Daichi's question.

The captain staring at him with dead eyes and (m/n) noticed the small blot of red on the edge of his knuckles. He didn't say anything, carefully pulling Daichi's hand and placing it under the tap, letting the water flow and washing the ravenette's hand.

Said ravenette stared down at him with his usual silence. At times like this, (m/n) could never tell what the captain was thinking. Was he observing on what he would do? No. Daichi was too confident in his...work. Of what he made of (m/n) (l/n).

Maybe he expected it. (s/c) fingers rubbed the knuckles, ridding the smell of blood and dirt as Daichi stood directly behind the manager. "Did they hurt you?" The manager shook his head again. "I'm fine. They didn't do much."

He could feel eyes boring into the back of his head, the captain glaring holes at the part where they pulled (m/n)'s hair. "It's good for you to know."

Know what? The manager wanted to ask but opted to stay quiet instead. He could feel Daichi leaning into his (h/c) hair, them letting the faucet run under their intertwined hands.

"No one else can hurt you." (m/n) carefully turned his head around and found black eyes staring down at him. "Not Suga and not even Asahi..." The captain muttered, his other hand gripping the manager's jaw, the latter letting out a small gasp.

"Only me. And it will stay that way as long as I'm here." He muttered, leaning so close to (m/n)'s face, the other baring a blank expression, knowing and not daring to show any sign of fear.

"Be aware and be good....I'll take care of you."

The (h/c) nodded, the grip on his jaw loosened and suddenly he was enclosed with a kiss. Daichi pressed against the manager and bit his lower lip, prompting moans as (m/n) shakily wrapped his arms around the captain's neck, his knees weak.

Both of them leaned against the sink and there was a faint sound of an ambulance siren that could barely be heard over the shaky gasps and lustful moans the manager spilled from his throat. It was wrong to love your abuser. (m/n) wouldn't call it love.

He would never care for someone like Daichi.

But he couldn't leave. There was no option for someone like him, he could only embrace and lay in the nest the third years made for him. A good first year to embrace their devilish intent.

[END SCENE]

I planned like a smut scene where daichi fucks him but im tired of writing smut tbh. Like i need inspo. But if u didnt notice daichis hand was bloodied bc he did sumth to the harassers which is why theres an ambulance in the last part.

Someone requested a sick scenario where reader gets sick and third years feel bad for him but tbh they wouldnt feel bad. Its just more of an excuse to fuck him over and ill give a very SIMPLE drabble for that bc ive delayed this way for too long

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

(m/n) falls sick and the third years takes good care of him!

[START SCENE]

"Mmhhaa mmngg ahnn!"

(m/n) cried as he clutched onto Asahi's gakuran, his back against the wall and his legs wrapped around the ace's waist. The brunette's cock deep in him as they hid in an isolated bathroom stall, the third year pulling him in before classes were starting.

It was the norm for him. And he thought his body could adjust but he wouldn't notice he was slowly falling apart with how frequent the third years was using him for a quick fuck.

"T-Too fast! Ahn! Mmmn ahn ah ah!" His legs were shaking as Sugawara held his hips as he pounded his ass, the setter biting onto the manager's bare shoulder. The setter had whisked (m/n) away during their lunch break, him pulling the first year into the empty clubroom and bent him over the table to fuck his ass. He laughed when he found out Asahi had gotten to him first.

Daichi rarely took him during school hours or even school grounds for that matter. It was always the other two filling his ass up or suffocating his throat.

(m/n) choked as his head was pushed deeper into Asahi's crotch, his body naked as he sucked and licked at the dick while Sugawara was behind him shotgunning his bottom while grinding onto his naked butt. Saliva and precum was dripping onto the gym closet floor.

Sugawara always hold the keys and he'd use it as an excuse to stay behind, forcing (m/n) to help just for him to push him onto his knees and forced his cock into his mouth.

The manager knew his body wasn't feeling well that day. Seven rounds of sex in 8 hours was a record for him and a threesome in the mix? He went home sick and woke up with a sore throat and a burning fever.

(m/n) didn't go to school and he was glad he got to recover in his own bed but his mother suddenly barged in saying that his friends and his boyfriend were there to see him. The third years had neutral expressions when they entered his room, Sugawara easily conversing with his mother as she left the room, leaving her son alone with the monsters.

"I can't believe you actually got sick. I thought you were faking it so you could avoid me today." Sugawara grinned, sitting on the edge of (m/n)'s bed and placing his hand on the manager's forehead, pulling away and pulling out a fever plaster to paste it on the manager.

"I told you he was sick. He could barely stand when we were walking home and you thought he was faking it? You're scary, Sugawara." Asahi muttered to which the setter snapped back at him and they both argued over who had pushed (m/n) too far on yesterday's events.

Daichi ignored the two as he walked over to the bed, (m/n) could barely open his eyes, his skin hot and his head aching. He felt a hand pulling down his blanket and someone pushing his shirt up. A cold wet palm laid flat on his belly. The (h/c) squirmed but embraced the cool, his chest heaved up and down with slow breaths.

"Get better. Soon." The captain ordered. His dark eyes staring blankly at the manager. Sugawara turned to (m/n) and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You heard the captain." "Make sure to stay away from Suga."

The setter continued to yell at the ace, moving off of the bed and Daichi took the opportunity to take his place, his eyes now locking with (e/c) as he brushed his hand against (m/n)'s cheek fondly. "...I'll take care of you. I said I would." The ravenette muttered, the hand he had washed earlier trailing from his stomach to his chest, his hand under (m/n)'s shirt.

Daichi would only take him in his bed, in his room at nights after practice. Now, he was sick and laying in said bed with the captain looming over him, his eyes scanning his weak features.

(m/n) couldn't do a thing, letting the third year care for his sick body. They would come over after practice bringing homecooked meals they would make at Daichi's house. Sugawara often cleaned his body, using a wet towel to cool his warm limbs or helping him into his shower where he would- this made the manager's mom became more fond of the third years, letting them into her son's room at any time she was especially too busy to check in on her precious child.

The manager knew they were some sick fucks but he didn't expect them to go that far truly. Sometimes they would grope him, offering a quickie while mocking him by bouncing the (h/c) on their lap but Daichi was quick to stop them, especially Sugawara who was a bit too happy that (m/n) was weak in his hands, too frail to push away.

Asahi didn't do much, only going through the (h/c)'s belongings, digging through photo albums and taking some of his more personal article of clothings. Stupid pervert. He didn't even bother hiding it too. Daichi would force them to leave when it was almost midnight, him staying over and sleeping on a spare futon.

He was so attentive to the (h/c)'s needs, making sure he took his medicine and eating the required nutrition he needed. He kept his promise and (m/n) was able to recover in three days, returning to school after being deemed well enough by the captain.

Oddly enough, Sugawara and Asahi didn't pounce on him the second they met. Only ruffling his hair or hugging him and saying they were glad to see him well before leaving him alone. (m/n) thought that they finally got their senses knocked into them.

Until night arrived and (m/n)'s mother made a fatal decision to allow Daichi to check her son for another time.

"D-Daichi! I c-can't- urmff! Mmngghaa- ackk!" One of his legs were being held up as he laid on his side, his mouth full with fingers and his hole throbbing around the thick dick shoved inside him. The ravenette slowly rolled his hips, feeling (m/n) tighten around him as the manager shot cum from his penis onto the bedsheets.

He loved when the (h/c) would come on his cock, fluttering walls around his base was pleasure as he quickly thrusted into the overstimulated first year, (m/n) drooling and choking on Daichi's coarse fingers.

"Three days. You have three days to compensate." Rounds of sex to reimburse the captain. Not for the care he provided. It was just more of a reason for Daichi to fill his hole and he had warned the other two not to approach him, wanting to have his ass all to himself for the next few days.

(m/n) let the captain use his hole, his body to fulfill his lust. He wasn't sick any longer and Daichi had promised to take care of him. He could only hope the ravenette doesn't have any plans to stay around him for the long-term. Excluding the fact that they were neighbours.

[END SCENE]

I just love daichi so much rahhh. Going to see the movie next week. Remember this is the last one for karasuno so dont request for this team any longer lovies💋 If karasuno was intense just imagine the power play with shiratorizawa MUAHAHAHHAHA

[jreads]

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness. 

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago. 

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol.  One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now. 

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone. 

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above. 

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?” 

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks. 

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation. 

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.” 

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant. 

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling. 

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something… 

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

[hiraya-rawr]

so i betrayed you, my love– (2/5)

Xiao Version || Childe Version || Thoma Version || Gorou Version || Ayato Version

synopsis !! Part 2 of “You Were The Enemy All Along” featuring the aftermath of betrayal and confrontation, with more depth to their stories! (Part 1 of each character was also included to make reading convenient.)

contains !! some character lore spoilers / a little violence / dialogue heavy in some scenes / reconciliation but also complicated relationships mending together / cameos of other characters! / might be easier to understand if you knew the lore of the characters 

notes !! This was commissioned by the wonderful @mh8 who allowed this to be posted in public for everyone to enjoy! and honestly childe scares me to write bc I've barely written anything for him but I tried to bring out his charm? idk 😭

CHILDE

wc !! 2.4k

The noisiest of them all. He doesn't understand at first, tries to deny it by making jokes. The prank is up, what are you still doing? It's only when your betrayal becomes painfully obvious does he allow himself to laugh. It's ironic to be surprised coming from his line of work. He should really be used to these things.

"If you're this desperate for a fight, you could have just said so," He laughs, "Though, I warn you comrade, I won't hold back this time." It's so easy to drown in the adrenaline of battle and if he doesn't think hard enough, it feels no different than any of your usual spars together. There's a battle crazed look in his eyes at the thought of not holding back with you, but it's odd how numb he feels as Foul Legacy takes over. 

Whether or not he wins the fight, the result remains the same; with him lying in the middle of the battlefield, mask still on, staring blankly upwards. He thinks of the abyss he fell into as a child, and briefly wonders when did it all go wrong.

— Before Him

You sighed in relief, a long day of training was finally coming to an end. Dottore was not an easy harbinger to be a rookie under; aside from the harsh training requirements of a Fatui Agent, you also had to deal with a lunatic scientist for a mentor. You were lucky enough to have the doctor more distracted on conducting his experiments rather than training fresh meat like you. 

You leaned against a wall. You were in an isolated, snowy village, a mile away from the nearest Fatui training ground. It existed quietly, the villagers were as cold as Snezhnaya in that barren wasteland. You knocked twice on the concrete behind you, then an additional four times, then once more.

“Agent (Name), report.” A voice muffles from behind the wall, a figure you can't see.

“Pulcinella adopted a strange boy. . . He's coded as Childe. They say he fell into the abyss. He's quite strong, we've only sparred once but I know there's something off with him.” 

“Hmm. A peculiar new recruit. I've heard from the other agents.” Muttered the figure of the shadows. He doesn't talk much. You know it's to keep identities hidden and to avoid letting you know too much lest you get caught and the information forced out of you (and believe me, the information will be forced out of you).

“You think he could rise in the ranks? Perhaps become a general or diplomat?” You question quietly.

“I think he could be the next Harbinger.”

A sharp intake of breath, surprised. A Harbinger. The next and possibly youngest one after so long.

“Continue your work. Do what you believe is best for our organization. Leave any files you found useful under the gap.” Were his last orders before hearing the footsteps walk away. Work was never easy; you dealt with loneliness most of the time. The only comfort was when an ill-reputed plan of the Fatui failed, knowing it was only possible through your contributions and warnings. For every plan you thwarted was a step closer to revealing your identity and getting killed for it.

Yes, you're prepared. You've been preparing for it ever since you joined the Fatui.

With a sigh, you went back to the training grounds. 

— With Him

There’s a reason why Diluc Ragnvindr survived the hunt by the Harbingers when he sought out revenge in Snezhnaya. That should have been the first red flag for Childe. You were transferred early under his platoon, just when he was solidifying his position as a Harbinger. You were the subordinate he sent out to represent the 11th and, having the approval of Dottore (The old geezer, what a wack. Should he really be trusting a mad scientist? Childe questions this everyday) he trusted you enough to do your job.

Yet, the winery-heir-slash-fatui-serial-murderer escaped Snezhnaya with the help of those damned underground pests they've been trying to get rid of. Honestly, Childe could care less about the guy— if anything, he was immensely excited to try and pick a fight with him! But it still hurt his pride that one of his early missions as a Harbinger didn't turn out well. He needed to prove himself to the Tsaritsa after all! If not to at least make Pulcinella proud.

Going back to you.

It was always him and you; you and him ever since you transferred; sparring blade against blade. It was easy to get along when you were one of the only trainees close to his age, even easier when you managed to keep up with him in everything, bloodlust and all. 

You were his match and he was yours, or so he believed.

“Say, why did Dottore transfer you anyway? Did you get kicked out, pissed him off somehow?” Childe once asked, boots scraping the ground as he dodges an attack from you flawlessly. Despite Dottore’s rather crazed way of managing his platoon, agents were given a handful of benefits for being under a high ranking Harbinger with a budget larger than the others (Experiments don't pay themselves, you know!).

You huff, a little tired from the onslaught of keeping him entertained in battle, “No, didn't he tell you? I requested for transfer.”

“Oh really? What, did the good looks of a new Harbinger catch your eye?” He teases, going on the offensive once more as he sprints to slash his blade. You block it with yours, trying to push him back with force. When he does pull back, getting pushed a few meters away as hir boots skid on snow, you scoff.

“Good looks? If that were the case, I would have transferred to–”

He immediately sprints ahead again, blade nearly catching you off guard as you block the attack.

“Aww come-” Slash. Block. “-on! Don't tell me you're not-” Kick. Jump. “-even a little bit enraptured by-” Hit. Block. “-me?” He huffs heavily, finally catching your eye as your blade stays on his, pushing each other back with all your strength.

“Hmp. Must you be so arrogant?” You strain out, matching his force before– “Maybe. . . maybe just a little bit.” You avert your gaze at the very moment he catches sunlight in your eyes. Childe pauses, his grip on the blade loosens momentarily at your admittance. You take the chance— kicking his stomach back with force as he skids across the training ground, the sword clattering on the ground.

“Does this mean I won?” You giggle, your weapon still in your hand as he looks at you from where he crouches, a smile on your face.

Maybe it's the butterflies that erupted in his stomach, but he laughs out loud. Childe wonders to himself; Is this the thrill of battle? Or something else? You tilt your head in confusion.

“As if! I haven't even gone all out yet!” He yells enthusiastically, “Agent (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)”

Your smile tenses. Your heart beats. Pensively, you also wonder to yourself; Is this the success of a mission? Or . . . something else?

— After Him .

You should've known.

You should've known, you should've known, you should've known that the Fatui would never have let a betrayal such as yours go so easily. The past few months after him was spent laying low, hiding from daylight and any chance that you could be recognized. A large bounty was on your head and the Fatui weren't cheap by any means. The organization shielded you as much as they could but even you had missions you had to continue fulfilling. You’d gladly risk your life for the better good; after all, if you didn't, you wouldn't have went undercover in the Fatui anyway. 

But now, he was chasing you.

It's back to the snowy forests of Snezhnaya, sprinting and dodging all the tall pines in your way. You hear him gaining speed from behind you, hydro blades swishing as they cut through branches, unbothered to waste energy on dodging. Distantly, the sound of a Fatui gunner prepares his shot. You immediately switch directions, a pyro blast landing inches from where you once were. It’s followed by more blasts, each hitting a little closer to you until—

“Ah!”

It grazes your shoulder, blood escaping the wound and soaking your clothes. You don't stop running, adrenaline keeping you alive and conscious. Childe barks something out in Snezhnayan. You’re too distracted with running to understand what he said, but the Pyro Gunner stops shooting and soon enough you focus on escaping.

A clearing appears in your line of sight. A field of snow and endless white and—

Crash! You're knocked off your feet, landing on the snow. You feel him on your back as you quickly force him away, rolling to the side and kicking. It's a blur from there on— a flurry of kicks, punches, scratches, the snow around you forming the most unrecognizable snow angel.

Until his hydro blade was on your neck as he keeps you pinned underneath him. No amount of sparring could've prepared you for a battle to the death with a harbinger. Your breaths fog together with every exhale, the proximity feels bad for your heart but finally, you get a clear view of the face you haven't seen for months.

“I win,” He says, an ever-so-childish grin on his lips, “Any last words?”

It astounds you how casual he is, as if you weren't running for your life just moments ago. Sparring had always been his favorite game but this wasn't like the other times. You do as you were trained (by both the Fatui and your organization)— you keep your mouth shut. Last words are worthless in the face of the enemy, you’d rather bite your tongue off.

“Hmm. . . the (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ) I know would have barked back some words. You would've scoffed.” Childe says, the blade pressing deeper onto your neck, drawing beads of blood to the surface. “Or was that some personality you made up? Was it fun for you?” 

Silence.

The smile falls off his face. Something darkens in his eyes. “Alright. You won't talk, that's okay. Anyone who would dedicate their lives living undercover naturally wouldn't respond. I can respect that.” He starts, the blade doesn't move an inch on your skin, the snow numbing more of your back, “But at least answer me this. Not for your organization, not for you. . . answer it for me; was I ever anything to you?”

Silence. Keep quiet.

Something unrecognizable crosses his face. There’s a smile on his lips, but his eyes are pained.

“You know,”  He whispers, leaning down closer to you. “Whenever we sparred, did you feel anything? Anything at all?” His face contorts to a mix of frustration, “Because I sure as hell knew I loved you. I can differentiate things, (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)! I knew what was bloodlust, it wasn't just me being battle hungry. I’m not dumb! I knew— know I love you!”

As if wanting to hide from your gaze, he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Forehead to the snow, blade stilling on your skin. Despite how cold everything is, the warmth of him seems enough to coax you in.

“. . . At least tell me how much of it was real. Please.” He mumbles slowly. Did you mean to cause this much anguish? Did you have to go fall for someone like him? 

The words fall from your tongue before you could even catch them. The lack of hesitation, the urge to come clean; “Everything. . . everything was fake. Even my name. (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.). It's fake.”

He freezes over you, listening intently. Snow falls quietly into the ground, you wonder if you'll be buried in— caved to become timeless underneath the ice. Briefly, you think it would be fine if it happens if it's with Childe.

“I know it's hard to trust me, but please— loving you,” Pause. You feel tears well up in your eyes, blinding your vision of the descending snowflakes. “Loving you was real. Is real. It was the realest thing I had in that life under the Fatui. I’m so sorry, Childe, I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry we have to end like this.”

“You mean it?” He asks, hushed.

“Yes, yes, archons I mean it.”

“Then what's your real name?”

Your breath hitches, “(Name).”

“(Name).” He repeats.

The awareness of the metal on your throat becomes all too obvious. Breathing too hard would cause it to press more against your skin. You try to calm down, trying to accept the falling of the snow (the fall of you) as the end of your life nears and suddenly—

the blade is retrieved. You hear the shuffle of leather as it's placed back into its holder. Blinking, bewildered, you glanced up at him only to see his boyish grin.

“You honestly didn't think I'd kill you, right?”

Your mouth falls open. You want to hit him.

“You're going to let me go?”

“I mean, I did kind of let the traveler go back in Liyue.”

“The senior Harbingers reprimanded you for that!” You sit uo, hands flailing as you grab a handful of snow to throw at him. He lets it hit his stomach, laughing.

“It's fine, it's fine! The higher ups don't really care about me as much as they do the others anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly, “It gives me a whole lot of leeway. If I say I don't want to kill you, they'll just nod along.”

You stare at him longer than you mean to, holding his cheery gaze as the snow continues to settle around you. How quiet and peaceful to exist with him in that space. 

“Is this really okay?” You ask and he falls silent with you.

He looks away to the white horizon, speaking in a softer voice, “Well, of course not. You still betrayed me, I still got hurt,” He inhales, “But you love me. I think that's all that really matters, no?”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can't bear to think how close you were to losing your life (losing him) and how easily he pushes your lifelong conflicts aside. So who cares if you played for the opposing organization? Who cares if you struggled with love and truth?

You've faked yourself for so long but Childe would still embrace you, lies and all.

“Come on, the snow must be cold.” He extends his hand, gesturing for you to take it, “Sooner or later the other scouts would be arriving. You should keep running east.”

“Ajax–” You start but he hushes you gently.

“We won't be seeing each other for a while. I don't know when we’d meet again but. . . you know, I’m sure it'll work out if it's us. So don't cry anymore, (Name).”

Stiffly, you nod. It was this moment that you tried to memorize everything about him— his eyes, his ginger hair, the way your name -your real name- falls off his tongue. You replay every sound he made to say such a name, just for the sake of remembering.

“Now go—” He pushes you to the direction, “Don't worry! I won't let them catch the love of my life!” He grins widely, hydro blades appearing in his hands once more as you nod towards him, tear stained smile in response. Your feet take you away, further and further away as you hear the familiar sounds of his blades against his own agents. Icy wind whipping against your face. You can't help the laugh that escapes you, surely the agents would think their blood-crazed superior is in another one of his impulsive moods. 

You pity them and envy them all the same.

~

notes !! thoma is up next, featuring some of our fav inazuma characters <3 ill edit it into a post once my finals settle down (currently cramming in a cafe) I hope you guys liked this one

childe // i really tried to fulfill that he's the more talkative of the bunch! and honestly with childe’s history of forgive and forget, i dont think it's a surprise that he’d easily forgive MC and brush everything under the rug. if anything, he kind of likes the complexity as far as i could tell! by the way, did you like the inclusion of “before him, with him, and after him”? i think it was a poem or a dedication in some book. I really like the thought of it since it's a good way to divide timelines. BY THE WAY do you like the parallels? In part 1, he was left on the snow looking up at the sky. Now in part 2, ur the one on the snow looking up at him :D

[lovingtetsurou]

-`｡ cosplay — kuroo tetsurou. ˚ˎ-

cw : smut 1K. established relationship. somewhat pwp. self-indulgent. cosplaying. reader is shorter than kuroo. mentions reader has a slightly foul mouth lol. petnames (sweetheart, sweet girl, doll, princess). a/n : kuroo brainrot. word dump. not proofread. i'm just thinking with my pus– idk how or why but this idea just came to me, popped out of nowhere when i saw this cute elf-ish, cottage-core, fairy-core, outfit in a game that i was playing so... enjoy ig bcs i sure did ;) p.s. reader's not cosplaying a particular anime character!

after losing a bet, you now find yourself changing into an elf costume. it was kuroo's idea. it's a cosplay of a character, but you didn't know who it was since you weren't that much familiar with anime like kuroo was. (ironic, isn't it?)

'hmm, not bad.' you thought to yourself as you looked at the mirror and scanned the outfit.

a lilac themed palette. cinderella-like shoes. a short, ruffled dress that emphasized your waist and long, puffy, loose, chiffon sleeves that are fitted on the wrist. an off shoulder top that showed off the collarbones. daisy flowers tightly wrapped around the neck. crystal-like jewelry hung by the ears. and the cherry on top: a ferronnières.

“knock knock. you alright there, baby? you're not chickening out, are you?” your lover spoke at the other side of the door, the smirk evident in his tone. after rolling your eyes and holding back a smile, you took one last look at yourself and decided to show him what he's been waiting for. “hold your horses, will ya? i'm comin' out. and don't you dare laugh or you'll get kicked in the nuts.”

kuroo always found your vulgar language amusing as it contrasted your demure demeanor. he felt nice knowing you could be honest around him without holding back.

you opened the door and took a step back, letting the man in front of you get a better look at you.

beautiful. ethereal. pristine. elegant. pure. chaste. innocent. divine. heavenly. there were countless words to describe you, yet he could only stare. his mind had gone blank at the sight of an angel. his angel.

well, technically, his elf, right now,

“how is it?” you slowly asked, not knowing why you did. maybe it's because you initially thought that this was a dumb idea, but now that you've tried it, it might not be so bad. maybe it's because at the start, you wanted to just play and get a good laugh out of this, but now you actually wanted him to like it.

your fingers started fidgeting with the hem of the dress, avoiding eye contact at all costs, not wanting to feel more embarrassed than you already were.

“this might not be bad y'know. the dress is kinda nice. though i don't know much about the character so i don't know whether it would've been better if i had put on some makeup or not– mmph” before you could even finish your sentence, he snatched your lips with his, delicately cupping your cheek as he kissed you with much fervor, but at the same time, he was gentle and careful.

after he was satisfied, he pulled himself back to admire you once more since the first time, he got carried away and didn't have much time to take you all in. you normally take him all in.

“did you know–” he paused, eyes finally landing back on yours after engraving this image in his memory. “it's my favorite character because it reminded me of you.” he smiled that adoring smile of his that always got you so down bad.

“and why's that?” you tried to hold back a grin as you got ahead of yourself. kuroo chuckled, pinching both of your cheeks with a goofy look on his face. “because they look so innocent but they have the nastiest mouth.” he kids which earns him a playful (but strong, nevertheless) slap on his arm.

“i do not. i just curse, a lot.” you defensively retort.

“oh yeah? we'll see about that. i'd love to watch you eat your words, or in your case, spit it all up.”

kuroo is a man of his words, and he sure doesn't like to back down.

after the hazy happenings, you're now the one getting slapped on your ass. only this time around, it's kuroo's thighs that are smacking your backside with his length sliding in and out of your gaping hole.

your wrists were pinned above your head by tetsurou who's only using one arm to tie you down as his other is busy toying with your mounds, pinching and pulling. his mouth would alternate between sucking on your areolas, making out with you, and leaving bites on your collarbones, neck, earlobe, everywhere his lips could reach.

it felt hotter because he was fucking you with your clothes still on. your bare skin before was now decorated with blooming red and purple love marks.

despite getting all down and dirty, in kuroo's eyes, you still managed to look so magnificent, so angelic. the sounds you make were another case, however. spewing curses, lewd moans, salacious whines, lustful begging; it's a succubus speaking.

“yes? feels so good that you're finally showing your true colors, sweetheart?”

“ohh fuck me— yesyes right there that's the spot! your cock's going so deep inside me it's like your fucking me to heaven— hnng don't stop please, breed me, wreck my insides and reshape it, fill me up with your cum will you? please please—!”

he twitches inside of you from how horny you get that your rambles get so debaucherous.

“fuck. my sweet girl. every damn time, you still take my breath away.” he chuckles, amused, so turned on, and close to his high which was evident from his sloppy movements.

“shit, so close, doll. come with me, yeah? i'll give you all that i have. gonna fill you up to the brim and breed your dirty, little, hole. you'd like that, won't you, princess?”

“oh my god, yesyes i'd like that a lot— hnngah fuck 'm gonna cum so hard on your dick!” your walls pulsated around him, getting tighter and tighter from the pleasure that was threatening to spill. and after just a single flick, everything crumbles apart.

the aftermath was just as fun, especially for kuroo.

“curse a lot my ass.” he weakly laughs, giving you a kiss on your temple as he tries to catch his breath.

you lightly smack his shoulder, body slumping against tetsurou who instinctively pulls you to lay down on his chest, hands automatically brushing your hair to soothe you and calm you down, all the while giving you loving kisses here and there.

“but it's one of the things i love about you, so don't go holding back on me and just curse me endlessly. knew it was your love language from the start.” he chuckles, giving you a longer kiss to shut you up. not that you're complaining.

© lovingtetsurou  — do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or repost my posts anywhere

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering (totally okay if not) if I could request a quackity x reader where there playing minwcraft or smth with a few other people and its just like moments of them annoying eachother (as a way of love if that makes sense)

Thank you 💜💜

AH YES OF COURSEEE!! ; did my best w this one, had to quote a lot of vines for this bc I'm not naturally funny and it made sense in a way

QUACKITY ; vinecraft

summary ; annoying each other while playing minecraft with some friends

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 711

masterlist

You and Alex were playing on a Minecraft survival world with Bad and Niki. It wasn't a role-play SMP or anything, just a simple survival world with the Better Minecraft mod.

"Hurricane Katrina? More like Hurricane Tortilla!"

y/u/n was shot by a skeleton

"Y/n did you just willingly give yourself up to those skeletons?" Quackity laughs

"in my defense, they all have chainmail and gold armour, and I have an unbreaking one iron sword and a dream"

"Language! Stop talking about that!" Bad yells

"Yeah, stop talking about pussies, Quackity!"

"Y/n!" Bad and Quackity both exclaim in different tones while Niki laughs

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FORRRR?" Quackity yells, referring to the Vine as he almost breaks his voice a bit

"I'm waiting for those creepers to kill you," you answer, clicking your mouse to swing your hand as to point behind his character

"OH MY GOD NO-"

quackity was exploded by a creeper

"MY SHIT! Y/N, NIKI, GET IT PLEASE, I HAD AN AWESOME DIAMOND HELMET"

"It's Wednesday my dudes-"

"Shut the fuck up I'm fighting a warden, I can't do this right now, Alex!"

"I wanted to be a cowboyyyy baybyyyy" quackity speaks with a shit southern accent

"please stop fucking quoting that" you snicker, "I'm on the edge of this fuckin thing, if I fall I'll die and lose the teleporting thing and your shit"

"No off topic questions. because I don't want to. no. no. you've been stopped"

"PLEASE, I JUST WANNA MAKE THE PENIS, STOP DESTROYING IT Y/N/N"

quackity keeps trying to shoot you off the ledge of the mountain where you were trying to build the base on the side of

"I said whoever keeps shooting me, your moms a hoe!"

"language!"

"you're a hoe, motherfucker!"

"quackity, watch out!"

quackity was exploded by a creeper

"AGAIN!?"

yknow that vine of that kid playing simple piano notes and the other kid getting down to it? that's like the halftime show of the stream

quackitys playing guitar and you're busting it down in game next to niki who can't stop laughing, and bad is totally silent because of all the foul language

I mean the song slapped

then quackity got absolutely sniped by a skeleton while he was on two hearts

"What the fuck is up Kyle? no, what did you say? what the fuck, dude? step the fuck up kyle!"

quackity gets all up close with the mic to literally inhale it, "y/n i love you but my names not Kyle"

"WHATRE THOSE???"

"They are my crocs."

"Actually why do you own crocs? red flag, we're breaking up and I'm dating niki now"

"You move on quickly" quackity mumbles and rolls his eyes

nicki smiles before speaking, "because I'm better than you, quackity"

"Road work ahead? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does"

"Y/n you've spent 85% of this stream quoting Vines"

"Yeah I know, it's because I hate you"

"Wait what?"

when quackity brings up how he lived in the southern hemisphere and talks about living in Mexico, he pauses to breathe and you take the opportunity while you have it

"country boy I love youuuuuuuu. ah"

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"BAHAHHAH"

"I can't be here anymore"

we've all seen the "Hey ron" "Hey billy" meme I think

you'll break into the base through the ceiling to get back in because you're working on a tunnel trailing through the inside of the cliff up to the top as the entrance

"Hey quackity" you say as you land next to quackity trying to sort through chests

"Hey y/n"

you scream as quackity sits down with some pizza in the middle of stream

he screams, "stop, you almost made me drop my pizza!"

yk that meme w the kid w the broomstick doing some anime pose battle shit? here's that one

you'll be swinging your sword around and spamming emotes "don't fuck with me! I have the power of God and anime on my side! AHHHH"

"who gave you the right to speak? You're on trial for breaking Bad's space bar!" Quackity exclaims

"I got it working again!!"

"let's do the fork in the garbage disposal!"

cue spamming emotes and lagging your games til they crash 💀💀💀

"love yourself! accept yourself!"

you became a positivity priest while quackity became a drug dealer

really splitting this world into two sides now LMFAO

[a-libra-writes]

AAAA REQUESTS ARE OPENED ILYSM!!11!1!1If it's not too much id like to request for my bbgs Jamie, Brienne and maybe Arya when they haven't seen s/o all day so they're getting pretty angsty but when they're finished with training or whatever for the day they find beloved asleep in one of the spots they usually meet at while waiting for them. (Sorry if I made it too specific) sending much loveლ⁠(⁠´⁠ ⁠❥⁠ ⁠`⁠ლ⁠)

Im gonna do Jaime and Brienne (and some others bc i cannot control myself) but sans Arya! lets goooo

Jaime - First of all, he's in a foul mood when he finally gets back, muttering and grumbling to himself. When he spots you in the usual spot you wait in - oh. Shit, that's actually ... very endearing. He wants to be smug about it, but there's just a lot of sentiment that sits with him as he tries to remember someone wanting to see him that badly, that they'd fall asleep waiting. He watches you for a little while, considering this, before finally waking you up. Now he's all smug and teasing you about being so clingy. Naturally he'll escort you back to your chambers, not really caring about the hour or that he's a Kingsguard and shouldn't be seen doing such things. He'll figure out a lie an explanation later.

Jon - He's ready to kick in the door of the Lord Commander's chambers, if only his sore and freezing body would cooperate. Jon's exhausted and figured a while ago you would've gone to bed. You both have to be careful, after all - but then he spots you dozed off in an old wooden chair by a dying hearth. Were you waiting up this whole time? He feels guilty at once, and tries to be quiet as he gets the fire going again. Once it's up, Jon gently wakes you up by brushing some of your hair aside and kissing your brow. He really can't help himself, though his hands are like ice! You two cuddle and warm up before heading to your separate chambers.

Brienne - It was a brutal day of riding and routing bandits, and while she can normally take it, this went on longer than usual. Brienne's strong, but she has her physical limit. She's staggering back, being the last to retire to bed. When she finds that you waited for her, she feels so bad! Brienne hadn't realized you'd do such a thing - it fills up her heart with affection, so she gently wakes you and asks if she can carry you back to your room. You actually accept, and she feels the fatigue wash away as she gladly carries you back. She loves being a knight for you, and it turns out you're very snuggly when you're tired.

Arthur Dayne - He leaves his post late in the evening, much later than the usual meeting time. You probably aren't there, but - it's worth a look, isn't it? And there you are, asleep in the garden you and Arthur like to steal away to. He wakes you up very gently, cautioning you between kisses about falling asleep in such a vulnerable state. He doesn't have the heart to really scold you about it, at least not until the morning. He escorts you halfway to your chambers before has to retreat to the White Sword Tower.

Victarion - He already thinks about you when he doesn't want to, or when it's not a good time. It happens more often when he's tired, which is troublesome. The late hour doesn't occur to him when he's back; you're always waiting, no matter what, and - oh. You're asleep. ... You really shouldn't be asleep where anyone could find you and do something, even in Castle Pyke. Victarion scoops you right up, not realizing how badly that would startle you. He just grumbles that you ought to be more careful, and any touches or kisses distract him immediately.

Asha - First, why are you so damn cute? How'd you end up in a place like the Iron Islands, anyway? For once in her life, someone is waiting for her at home like a puppy... even when she gets back late, like now. Asha wills her tired body over and wakes you up with a big kiss and her soft laugh. Aww, what, you really like her that much? She messes with your hair and pulls you up, urging you to her chambers as you stumble and grumble behind her.

Jorah - Well he's always thinking of you, but especially so if he had to depart before the sun is up and he's finally returning hours after its set. By then, Jorah's exhausted and just wants to get home to you. Once he finds you asleep on the settee you like best - oh no, he might die from the sweetness. You waited up for him? Jorah sits right next to you, giving you a big, sleepy hug and apologizing about being back so late. You both end up falling asleep cuddled up on the couch because he's too tired to move and now you're comfortable and warm, so you aren't going anywhere.

Brynden - Coming back from a long day of training and keeping up with his men, Brynden doesn't notice the time until he spots you sleeping on a large windowsill. He feels bad for making you wait so long, and finds it endearing you even wanted to wait up for an old knight. He picks you up very carefully, so it's his voice that wakes you. "Making these old bones carry you back to bed, hm?" He's not bothered that anyone would spot you two - he knows which halls are empty at this hour.

[grendelsmilf]

okay i finally finished rewatching s1 of the afterparty (it took me so long bc i’ve been watching it w my dad and i haven’t seen him in a while) (will respond to whoever asked me about my thoughts on s2 once i get to it) so here are my thoughts (immediate spoilers btw)

yasper literally could’ve gotten away with it AND maintained his friendship with aniq if at the very beginning he had just said “i was up there talking to him and he accidentally slipped i tried to save him but i was too far away also it’s my birthday im a little birthday boyy” . and then even if danner had pressed him further bc she suspected foul play, aniq would’ve had his back bc he would’ve known that yasper was willing to take the fall just so that aniq wouldn’t be implicated. yasper rly fumbled that huh

that said, i don’t think yasper should go to prison because killing xavier is not a crime by any moral standards. in fact he should win the nobel peace prize

also yasper should win ANOTHER nobel just for being enmeshed in not ONE but two examples of toxic yaoi. he’s crazy for that

also i just love ben schwartz. who can resist his precious little punim

and his chemistry with sam richardson is amazing they should star in like a romcom or something

aniq and zoe are still cute together. sorry

on a rewatch the brett episode might genuinely be the funniest one. and the high school episode is still genuinely devastating

as for what I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT FUCKING STAND ABOUT THIS SHOW: it is a show fundamentally concerned with how the lens through which we view media shapes our perceptions of the world. it is a show about narrativization and the nature of propaganda. it is a show that continually lampshades the way in which our media is an inaccurate reflection of our material realities. it is a show that explicitly points out the harmful nature of copaganda, especially in terms of how it contradicts real-world policing…in an episode that simultaneously portrays policing in a fundamentally inaccurate way that plays into the exact same reactionary, harmful tropes it is ostensibly critiquing. and i don’t find this cute or charmingly ironic, i find this to be particularly insidious, because self-awareness without self-critique allows for the viewer (and the writer) to feel smugly satisfied while absorbing the exact same propagandistic tropes they somehow consider themselves immune to. the characters repeatedly emphasize that our perspectives are flawed as a way of gesturing to the failures of our criminal justice system, but the show ends with the same poirot-esque victory for our central cop heroine without ever actually taking into consideration the harm of presenting such a narrative. because the good cop gets to feel satisfied that she solved the case before the bad cop came and made a wrongful arrest, right? it’s especially insidious because they clearly imply that racism is a motivating factor in aniq’s status as the primary suspect as well as danner’s slower career trajectory (as well as misogyny, in her case), but acknowledging that there is racism and sexism embedded into these institutions of policing while otherwise upholding the work cops do as “solving crimes” and “serving the community” is an even more dangerous form of liberal copaganda in many respects. the way yasper’s arrest is framed angers me, but it’s not necessarily because i think ben schwartz is too cute to go to jail (although i still maintain jennifer 1 would’ve made for a better murderer if they had to go that route at all). it’s that the framing plays the assumptions of this fundamentally reactionary genre completely straight; the entire show continually lampshades many of the glaring flaws in this premise as it nevertheless upholds deeply harmful institutions. as far as s1 goes, it is an extremely entertaining piece of comedy with a great cast (although john early and tiya sircar were underutilized so what’s even the point), with an interesting premise and framing device, but completely ideologically abhorrent in a way that genuinely sickens me.

anyway watch gosford park

[vanillatalc]

managed to get 3kg of 10 inch white alpaca for £70 (v good, i make £70 from about 50 grams of fibre so you can do the maths)

emailed MANY MANY alpaca farms/breeders

put together a list of illustrators to potentially hire through the site i work for bc im in charge of a merch rebranding + shared this list with the men

me and benno went on a little walk this eve

currently sitting on the sofa and the cat has settled herself on my lap, she took her brushing session like an absolute champ yesterday + is definitely getting more comfortable w/ it over time. her skin + fur is looking much much better consistently now too

my hair is absolutely foul atm and im gonna have to get a haircut soon. haven't had one since pre-covid but my hair is looking hideous so im gonna have to go and get it done

bought some more bras in a smaller cup size :| i checked the last bra i bought which still fits well and it's actually been an A this whole time, idk who i was kidding when i bought a B omg

i keep noticing dizzy spells / when your vision goes dark for a minute upon standing - it has always happened a bit since childhood and i think it's v common but it's def been more noticeable lately - i am slightly nervous ive managed to malnourish myself - i eat LOADS of vegetables these days thanks to my increased abilities to cook (and i think the delight of being able to eat things like this for the first time in over 10y has maybe led to an overreliance on vegetables) but possibly not enough of other things?? not sure i eat any sources of iron at all really?? it would also be a bit disingenuous to not note the massive weight loss from the last 9 months or so and wonder if this could contribute to both hair quality + minor dizziness. im actually feeling fine mentally + not crazy but learning to feed yourself appropriately really is a lifetime job innit

[aqueeracademic]

endeavour being queer (and other commentary):

season 1, episode 1, “Girl”:

- pushes through the whole crowd to stand next to Jakes

- interaction with Debryn (Debryn telling him he can look because there’s no blood, suggesting he and Morse are close enough that he trusts Debryn to tell him something like that)

- checking out Derek like no ones business

- who the FUCK spits on their iron, Morse??? get a glass of water or something.

- Debryn subtly gives Morse somewhere other than the body to look

- going around the side of the building with Jakes 🤨🤨

- Jakes glaring Bright’s head off when Bright starts bullying Morse

- Jakes supporting Morse’s deductions 🤨

- imagine if season 1 Bright stfu.

- look, i know they’re speaking quietly so that girl can sleep, but goddam if Morse wasnt flirting

- i’ve never seen a man more uncomfortable than morse watching that girl beg for her child back

- “an immoral rendezvous?” bright stfu he can be married and be gay u dumbass

- jakes’ face when he said that shit 😧

- i’m so embarrassed for morse just putting this random ass guy in jail i literally wanna scream

- jakes coming to find him in the cells

- “made an arrest then?” 🤨🤨

- this gay ass priest is a liarrrr!!!!!!!!!!

- “something we have in common, i imagine?” 😏😏

- “you seem an unlikely policeman, if i may.” 😏

- why unlikely 🤨 wdym by that 🤨

- “something for you to think about on the way back to town.” 😏

- BRO WATCHED MORSE LEAVE W HIS GLASSES IN HIS MOUTH WTF WAS THAT

- these gay ass hoes

- “doctor debryn called. wants you to drop by the mortuary.”

- 🤨

- “do you feel alright? you’re not going to...”

- “no.”

- “i can get you a glass of water, if you’d like.”

- they know each other so well i’m—-

- “what did they tell you about me?”

- that ur batshit crazy and they were RIGHT

- “she’s beautiful, incredibly so.”

- doesn’t mean she’s not crazy

- “most of the lads have you off as a queer fish.” 🤨

- “have they?”

- WHY R U SURPRISED???

- have you met urself?

- i wanna smoke a pipe like thursday

- bro morse fr j ghosted strange like that how foul

- NO THE GAY PRIEST

- thursday is INSANE for j sneaking up on morse in a gay hookup spot like that

- his FINGERS ARE GONE

- “that’s frank’s scrawl. i’d know it a mile off.” 🤨🤨 no need for the little smile as u say it doc

- NOOOO THE GAY PRIEST

- i love jakes but he’s such a snitch on morse 😔 no need for all this hatred 😔

- morse there is no need to cry over being returned to general duties get it together

- thursday >>>

- morse’s interactions w women give me such an ick and not even in a “i think he’s gay” way but in a “he should never be allowed to speak to a woman” kinda way

- yes, i read the books so i know i’m right.

- oxford is so pretty i’m literally sick over it.

- no need to stare at jakes when he’s leaning over his desk, morse

- their bickering is literally-

- morse what is ur actual problem

- the first time i saw this i was obviously on morse’s side but watching it now i’m literally like... bro ur a MESS

- GO STRANGE!!!!

- jakes there is no need to lean over morse’s desk to get in his face like that JUST to make fun of him

- insanity.

- gay priest = confirmed by that little blond asshole

- strange is such a real one i wanna marry him

- “i’ve been an idiot.” OBVIOUSLY.

- i would go to church if i could go to church here

- “why wouldn’t he just come forward?” Bright you need to believe gay people are real NOW bc ur nick is CRAWLING w them

- the random old man covering for his son being the murderer is INSANE of the writers

- morse has no business being so smart

- also i’m allowed to hate him bc i AM him

- it’s insane to rly look at what was going on bc why was derek having monkford deliver the drugs in a gay hookup spot, why would his dad murder someone in a gay hookup spot, why would that old man murder a gay man for walking into a gay hookup spot

- he’s GAY????? he’s NOT going to come forward u psycho.

- justice for the gay people in this show i demand it

- morse and strange = besties for lyfe

- the THEME SONG DHMU

[pluvioseprince]

Omg thank u for answering they sound so good,,,,,, I love both the flufflier and darker stuff so honestly big win 🫶 ok your honour I got a fav pairing now

I think Albedo would go bonker over Tartaglia’s foul legacy bcs of his scientific curiosity. Even regular Tartaglia, if he tested the traveler in 2.3 event I bet he would also love to test Tartaglia’s strength and all. I can see Tartaglia all happy bcs “omg dream date he’s gonna watch me beat up things this is it the best moment of my life!!” LMAO. There’s also the way they both view themselves as living tools, Albedo is Rhinedottir’s creation and followed her orders until now (and even still do, as “finding the truth and meaning of this world” is his final assignment) while Tartaglia prefer to live as a weapon and follows every of the Cryo Archon’s order,,,, and ironically man would that improve Mondstadt and Snezhnaya relation, two important effective of their government getting together though do you think they would make it public ?? would they keep the relationship private?

I really like their dynamic, being able to be frank with each other as Albedo’s not the best in social skill while Tartaglia doesn’t really care for social standing,,,,, I think the tall extrovert with the short introvert is also very cute I love that for them 🫶 and their boba in your last post 🫶🫶🫶🫶 since you draw them in modern au as well, is there anything u wanna say about modern ChiBedo ?? Maybe the kind of dates they’d go on hehe

YESS I bet he'd be absolutely enamoured with Tartaglias foul legacy😭😭 THE DREAM DATE DIALOGUE IS HILARIOUS BTW it's such a Childe thing to say ... I bet albedo would get unconsciously distracted by Tartaglia that he just forgets to do whatever research/observation he was supposed to do and he has no clue what to tell Tartaglia. He goes "um. Can u fight another lawachurl" and Tartaglia beams wider

They really can help each other figure out the meaning of their existences - finding joy in staying true to their values, protecting those they love! I bet - for the initial part of their relationship, they wouldn't even know they liked each other back. Albedo, while secretive about Tartaglias identity as a harbinger - would talk about him to lisa, and Lisa has to exasperatedly point out that - Yes, you're down terrible for him. Yes, he's down awfully terrible for you too. I doubt they ever established it in actual words that they are in a relationship, but their increasingly affectionate actions already speak for themselves. Chibedo is so healing!!!

—————

Ohhh modern chibedo... I have so many thoughts and so many AUs but of course my favorite is always the college/uni aus 😂 !

Of course, these are my personal portrayal/imaginations of them, they're not to everyones taste!

Firstly, just like their Genshin counterparts, they'd fall in love unwittingly and slowly - but never realise it until the first direct glance across the classroom or office, and both violently recoil away - when they realise that SHIT they're both blushing.

—————

Tartaglia and Albedo's dates would be a little closer to parallel play than being romantic (? Not sure how to explain this...)

I doubt that they'd go out all that much, but when they do go out I bet they'd love action packed or competitive activities (albedo dies of social exhaustion ten minutes after they're done.).

When Tartaglia initiates activities, they're usually exciting, adrenaline-filled activities like go-kart and theme-parks (and fishing too, as an exception) - while Albedo would prefer activities that require more focus, like roller-skating or ice-skating, hiking and cycling.

Imagine the cute scenarios for each one...Albedo's 😐 face on a rollercoaster while Tartaglia is laughing, holding hands as they skate, or albedo falling asleep next to Tartaglia as he fishes... Or Tartaglia becoming insanely good at arcade games the moment albedo points out a prize that he fancies... Wow I hate chibedo ew ew ew ew

I'd need another post to avoid getting too long! If you'd like more, I'd love to answer another ask !

[zombified-queer]

26) “I was just playing. Surely you can take more.”  With the hotel?

Sorry this took, like, forever. I sure do hope you enjoy it bc I enjoyed writing it.

💌 🏨 🤵💌 🏨 🤵💌 🏨 🤵💌 🏨 🤵💌 🏨 🤵💌

"I was just playing!" Madam Hotel pulls the rotting Lobby Boy into a waltz. "Surely you can take more, Bug!"

I cut in, offering my hand in place of the Lobby Boy's. Madam Hotel's grip crushes his bones and his skin slips like a loose glove.

"Madam. Please."

She rounds on me, angry at first. Then Her eyes, with permanently dilated pupils and full of starlight, glance pitifully at the Lobby Boy.

Behind us, the Manager takes the guestbook in her desiccated hands. I know she intends to throw it. And I hope to ease the tension in the lobby before it boils over and destroys us all.

"You would?" Madam Hotel croons.

She takes my bony hands, nails digging into my drying flesh. Like a cat, intent on holding its prey in place so it can have its fun. Her grip on me is firm, like iron shackles. I couldn’t break free even if I tried.

The Lobby Boy shuffles off to stand by the Manager. In furtive glances, the Manager inspects the Lobby Boy for wounds under the rot. She drops the guestbook with a harsh thud on the front desk.

But Madam Hotel continues to dig Her nails into me. If She notices the Manager’s insolence, Madam Hotel ignores it entirely. She pulls me around the room, content to waltz through the lobby and over the slick tile floor. I stumble and Her grip tightens enough to tear flesh.

"You know," She whispers, resting Her chin on my shoulder, "I could get used to this. Teamwork and all that."

In Her defense, tonight's check-in had gone smoothly. The guest had been checked in and sent up to room 44 to meet their grim fate. Rolled tighter and tighter until they broke and then continued to roll the guest up into flesh and splintered bones. The Lobby Boy’s creation and something that had kept Madam Hotel immensely amused.

This form of Hers, the stolen shape of a guest, hides most of the damage under Her clothes. When the guests look at Madam Hotel they find something odd about Her but nothing frightening. No misshapen skull or blood pouring out and spilling into the lobby.

It's a welcome relief.

She sighs, a hand resting between my shoulderblades, nails threatening to pierce my clothes and more flesh. "Think we could do one more?"

I glance at the Manager and the Lobby Boy, both collapsing into piles of foul flesh behind the front desk. The Manager's fingers brush the Lobby Boy's and he makes a soft, frightened noise.

"Just us," Madam Hotel clarifies. "We could do it here! In the lobby!"

Before I can offer a protest or redirect Her attention, She lets go of me. The door to the private office opens, long shadows pulling what remains of the staff into the void.

"How do I look?"

Madam Hotel wears a sharp, tailored blazer and pencil skirt. All red. She stands out against the black marble floor and gray concrete walls of the new lobby.

"It'll be just the two of us, Mister Man." She points a sharp, red-lacquered nail to my suit pocket. "Card, please."

"Madam, if I—"

"Card," She interrupts. "Please."

I comply and pull the reservation card from my breast pocket. Corey Redd. Room Twelve. I hand it over.

"See? Isn't this fun?" Madam Hotel taps the short edge of the card on the desk. "Just the two of us."

But I can hear the Lobby Boy and the Manager whispering to each other in the private office. Small, worthless comforts before they both finish rotting away.

The skin on my skull is too tight to do anything but grimace. Madam Hotel smiles at me, starry eyes narrowed to slits.

Together, we wait for the guest.

[altfire-archive]

The Break of Dawn - Expedition Notes

im writing a fic that uses The Break of Dawn as a template so im gonna. replay it and take as many notes as i can of Locations and Enemies and Traps etc. and the puzzles. lol.

ignore references to do'kharr and his buddy, they're the OCs i'm using in the fic. also i have marcurio along and take note of whenever he has some shit to say bc i love him.

Let's get started lol

*places the beacon*

Meridia: Look at my temple, lying in ruins. So much for the constancy of mortals, their crafts and their hearts. If they love me not, how can my love reach them? Restore to me my beacon, that I might guide you toward your destiny.

Meridia: It is time for my splendor to return to Skyrim. But the token of my truth lies buried in the ruins of my once great temple, now tainted by a profane darkness skittering within. The Necromancer Malkoran defiles my shrine with vile corruptions, trapping lost souls left in the wake of this war to do his bidding. Worse still, he uses the power stored within my own token to fuel his foul deeds. I have brought you here, mortal, to be my champion. You will enter my temple, retrieve my artifact, and destroy the defiler. Guide my light through the temple to open the inner sanctum and destroy the defiler.

u can ask meridia about her "token" and do'kharr probably wouldn't ask, but the adventurer is greedy for loot so they ask. she tells them both about dawnbreaker.

LDB: Tell me more about this artifact.

Meridia: Mortals call it Dawnbreaker, for it was forged in a holy light that breaks upon my foes, burning away corruption and false life. You will enter my shrine, destroy Malkoran, and retrieve this mighty blade.

LDB: I'll do it.

Meridia: Of course you will. I have commanded it! Go now, the artifact must be reclaimed and Malkoran destroyed. Malkoran has forced the doors shut. But this is my temple, and it responds to my decree. I will send down a ray of light. Guide this light through my temple and its doors will open

so after talking to meridia (not sure how we'll do that, maybe she'll bring the both of them up in the air??), we turn around and take the stairs down to the door. they're winding and overgrown, a fallen log blocking the way but we can just walk around it. a snowberry bush grows in the middle of the stairs - it has been some time since this place saw frequent use.

the door to the temple is the usual nordic iron door, flanked on either side by nordic eagles.

marc: look at those ruins... think there's gold inside?

babe stay focused!

the entrance is dark and musty, the sound of wind outside muffled by the stone. desecrated corpses in imperial armor lay just inside the door and the walls are lined with tattered banners and cobwebs. there's also a ribcage at the top of the stairs.

the hall feels more like a runnel, rounded and made entirely of stone - not simply mined out but purposeful. it must have been beautiful once. the stairs continue here, leading lower and lower into the mountain, and there's light ahead, as well as a visible door. a sort of dark mist emanates from the floor. the adventurer comments on it, confused, and do'kharr says simply, "corruption."

marc: SIGHHH i suppose you intend to carry off every item of value in these ruins.

babe i havent touched anything yet!!!!

what appeared to be a door is rather part of a room, like if a hallway went in a tight circle without walls, a series of archways that culminate with a sort of pillar in the center. the room is trashed, beams and chunks of stone piled in opposite corners, left of the way we came in and directly ahead. we turn left to continue down the hall and there's another body, burned and blackened, surrounded by candles and another nordic eagle, a pair of urns. make that three urns. the adventurer loots the urns and the body.

as they continue, there are three ways to go - a locked door on the left, an iron gate that seems to need a pull somewhere to open, and if we go forward past more debris there's a passage that goes left again.

behind the locked door is a lever. it probably opens the door but we'll do that last.

if we go around the debris, there's another corpse in imperial armor beside a bench. the end of the hall is brightly lit with candles in front of a wall that *looks* like the end of the hall but, as we approach, archways on either side seems to open onto a much larger chamber.

this room is even more destroyed than the others, but there is a platform in the center with a strange... receptacle? it's receiving a beam of light from outside, directed through a series of crystals. at the end of the room is a nordic eagle above a large wooden door, and in its mouth is a crystal much like (identical to?) the beacon. if we shine the light onto it, it should unlock the door beneath.

this room's ceiling is open, full of holes to allow in light from outside but it's dark so rn it's just letting in snow. curiously, the massive braziers hung from the ceiling are lit, offering a little more light and warmth in the space. maybe this was a main worship chamber.

let's go back to the lever.

i didn't look through the grate before but it was just a short hallway with a chest. pulling the lever opened it up. before the chest is an ancient nord sword and inside is a couple coins (literally 2) and an iron chestpiece.

back to the light, it makes a sound like whistling.

activating the pedistal, the smaller beacon-crystal within raises up and redirects the light directly into the eagle's beacon-crystal. the door creaks open.

marc: keep your eyes open for traps. old ruins like this are usually filled with them.

before we leave we look around and there's another pair of bodies, one in imperial armor and another in stormcloak (or maybe just guard armor?). the latter's face is severely deformed.

through the door is more stairs, again leading down deeper into the ruin.

marc: don't like the looks of this!

SHUT UP

at the bottom of the stairs is another open wooden (double) door. from outside we can see another platform and pedistal, again receiving light (probably the light we just redirected). around it are shades, ghastly dark ghosts with no legs but rather whispy tails.

two float with their backs to the door, and another seems to be patrolling further in. at the far end of the room there seems to be a door on a higher level, and there's probably stairs on one or both sides, out of view.

*this* is probably more an actual worship room, because between the shades and the pedestal are rows of pews.

the two shades by the door have swords, the latter has a bow. their eyes glow red.

the misty corruption is strong in here.

the room is in three levels - the floor, with the pews and some tattered banners (rugs?), the pulpit with the pedestal and some shelves, and the highest level, which has the main door. there are two raised walkways on either wall, at door level but seemingly inaccessible. on the floor level, to the right, is a locked door that requires a key.

there are also four massive stone pillars, two on either side of the pedistal and the other two back toward the entrance behind the pews. they're also nordic in style but rather than the eagle they have the old man's face, reminiscient of a giant.

activating the pedestal opens the door to leave, but also the smaller door on the floor level.

when the shades die they leave a pile of gooey "ghastly remains" btw.

took the side door first and it opened on a long hallway, a pair of shades within. the whistling of the light is so loud here. there's a shelf with misc shit on it, an urn with a potion of magicka. there're windows along the left side of the hall that show more of what lies ahead - more beacons mounted to the ceiling, passing the light along. at the end of the hall is an unlocked wooden door.

this door leads to a winding hallway and some more stairs down to yet another door. it's also unlocked.

marc: there's a lot of history to a place like that. i'll bet these walls could tell some amazing stories.

i love u

it opens on a loot room and i was relieved bc that would mean we can go back and actually push forward, but no. lol.

so there's some empty urns, more debris, and a chest surrounded by candles in this circular room. the chest has some mid loot, but there's another magicka potion and a decent bow at least. through an archway and subsequent hall o nthe left of the chest, we can see the next pedestal. i'm going to go back to the big doors.

the big doors may have once led somewhere but it collapsed, so it's just debris and cobwebs now. overhead is a crystal directing the light, probably connected to the hall of orbs we saw before. back down lol.

in this third pedestal chamber, we're instantly greeted by the creaking of reanimated bones. nice.

there's a raised bridge-like walkway that, on a pillar at its midpoint, holds the pedestal. the right side of the bridge has fallen away, but might be close enough to jump if we can't get up the other side.

it's wild and overgrown in here, hardy skyrim foliage jutting through the debris.

the first shade is immediately to the left of the door, pressed against the wall. i can't see the others. maybe the creaking is *them* and not skeletons but we'll see.

the first shade had a warhammer and the second has a bow and is on a higher level. the latter pulled out a 1h sword when i drew close. also i lost marc so i had to fight them both myself. lol.

tp'ed him to me and he immediately said some sassy shit smh my head

marc: *do* try not to set off any traps, will you?

on that note we still haven't seen any traps

there are two sets of stairs that lead up to the higher portion of the room, which surrounds on all sides but the entrance. the first set of stairs is to the right, which is where the broken bridge is, which is what i suspected would be the case. the latter set of stairs is straight ahead and is where the archer shade came down to fight from.

broken side: leads to an iron door, this upper area inaccessible from the other stairs unless you jump the gap in the bridge (which is easy enough). the door is locked and needs a key - likely the light will open it. there's another nordic eagle above this landing.

normal side: the light from the pedestal is coming from an eagle above this side. the iron door here is lockpickable, and to its left are an arcane enchanter and an iron grate with a chest behind it. once again, upon unlocking the door there was a lever, which opens the gate and we get the spoils. the chest literally has one gold in it lmfaoo.

upon activating the pedestal, the light bounces from one eagle down and back up to the other, and the door audibly unlocks and swings open. we jump the gap and head through.

the stairs lead down but only a short way, and at the bottom is another desecrated corpse in imperial armor.

the last door - iron, like the two in the last room - here leads to kilkreath balcony.

marc: wow. would you look at that.

the view is spectacular but dangerous, as we are very high up and there's no railing of any kind, just a couple waist-high pillars with iron rings where a rope balcony could have once been tied between. there are several massive nordic eagles made of stone, all with beacons atop them. a thread of light connects them all and leads us left across a thin bridge, then points up.

across the bridge is an expert level chest. it opens first try (lmao?) and inside is 250 gold, enchanted studded armor, and an enchanted elven war axe.

more importantly, there's stairs that lead up, now, and there's a door that leads back inside the temple. this is where the light leads.

inside the hall is tight, the opposite of those tunnel-halls from earlier - they're high ceilinged but you can hardly hold your arms out beside you. the stairs lead steeply up, then left. there are candles on the landing.

the end of the stairs spit you out on another landing with a cobweb-covered urn on one side and the main chamber on the right. the light continues from here and hits another pedestal, again on a pillar as part of a bridge.

on our left from the door is a pair of thrones on a platform, and on the left is a rickety wooden staircase that leads to a higher section of floor. in the center of the room and extending off to the unseen left side, there's a bridge-like walkway that is covered in iron bars like a cage.

there is more of that black mist corruption in here, and i've seen at least one shade.

up the stairs is a small landing with a light-locked door and some good potions. the pedestal's pillar doesn't allow entry to the bridge due to the bars blocking them off, otherwise it'd be jumpable.

from the pedestal we can see *another* pedestal, again on a pillar, on the other side of the room and a *third* on top of the cage. we'll probably have to hit all three to progress. there are two shades on the floor patrolling.

hitting the first one activated the second, and i think i heard the door behind us unlock.

:) i did

through the light-locked door there's a short hall that curves around to the left, and into one of the upper landings. we might be able to get to the caged bridge from here. there's also a shade and he's literally staring me in the eyes while im typing lmfao.

this room has a LOT of urns, a shitty chest, and two exits. one is an open archway and another is a trapped wooden door with a desecrated imperial leaned against it. the trap trigger was master level but i got it second try (lol) and the room beyond was hardly worth the effort. terrible loot room. six gold in the chest and an empty strongbox.

through the archway instead, the hall again curves left and there's a tripwire. do'kharr and his buddy will probably just step over it but marc is stupid so i have to trip it, lest the wooden battering ram from above cave in his little ribcage.

at the end of the hall there's a lever, then it curves left yet again and lets out on the caged bridge. i pulled the lever but it's not clear what it opens yet.

at the end of the bridge the cage lets up and the second pedestal is right there, but i missed my jump so i had to fight the shades i'd seen before. three were on the floor while marc zapped from the bridge, and another attacked him so i had to finish the first three on my own. i looked around while he was fighting, looking for any other way up, but there wasn't any so i had to sprint back around the way we did the first time.

will try the jump again lmfao.

got it this time

the light now coursing through two pedestals, it bounces up to the eagle directly opposite the first. the last pedestal is still too high to reach, but it seems this has opened another light-locked door on this side. hopefully that will take us higher.

this door instead leads to a hall that curves right, and opens on a smallish two-level room, full of that corruption. at least one shade is visible. directly in front of the door, across the room.

there were two, the one on the floor with a battle axe and the one on the higher level with a bow. there are stairs that lead up on the right side of the room and nothing else.

there are stairs on both sides, actually. on the left they lead up to a normal pedestal with a solution of strength on it. it seems like a trap or a mechanism? it was lol and i got injured somehow. it sounded like spikes but i didn't see them so idk.

on the right landing there's a tunnel hallway that leads us right off the chamber, then turns and goes right again. there are more urns and a lot of debris, enough so that the passage is nearly blocked off, but it's not. ahead is the last beacon pedestal.

i think marc just yawned behind me lmao

there's a dead stormcloak up here. also touching the thread of light hurts like a bitch.

the light sprung forward into the last eagle's mouth, and far below us on the first floor, another door opened. im just gonna jump down but i'll have do'kharr backtrack ig.

through the door is a couple stairs down and the door to the kilkreath catacombs. i assume this is the end.

back to the tunnel halls, the entrance to the catacombs is dark and the stairs again lead downward toward the light. the corruption is everywhere down here.

at the bottom of the stairs the hall winds, turns right then left to go straight again. there's a doorway with no door that leads to another two-level room. jk the walls are just high, the landings are inaccessible.

there are no shades in here, only more corpses and one final (i hope) pedistal.

I DIED FUCK YOU

the pedestal is surrounded by candles, so many that it makes my eyes hurt. the light leads forward.

marc: the ancient nords were a savage people, but they built some remarkable crypts and temples.

tunnel hallway, leads down two flights of stairs. it's the best lit hall so far, lines w candles.

marc: don't like the looks of this!

dude me neither. but also shut up.

at the bottom of the stairs is a small wooden double door

this last room is rather well preserved. malkoran stands at the end over an altar where the light terminates, doing some sort of ritual. his dark corruption swirls around him, densest here. he is flanked by four shades, two on each side.

the ceiling is high and reinforced with wooden scaffolding.

the fight isn't so bad. lightning is really good against the shades so marc mowed them down while i focused on malkoran. he SUCKS ASS. in that he's very strong and fucked me up.

i depleted tun's entire stash of healing potions to kill him and, after he died, his shade. he used mostly ice spike but also had a very high damage blizzard-type spell, idk what it was, but it sucked. we defeated him by the fuckin skin of my teeth tho. for reference tun is only lvl 21 here lmao.

Meridia: It is done. The defiler is defeated. Take Dawnbreaker from its pedestal.

girl don't mind if i do lol. whiteout as she teleports us outside.

Meridia: Malkoran is vanquished. Skyrim's dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be. This is because of you. A new day is dawning. And you shall be its herald. Take the mighty Dawnbreaker and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow.

LDB: I'll wield this mighty blade in your name. 

Meridia: May the light of certitude guide your efforts.

all done! i am sick of this.

[ragtimedrakes]

sucks dark knight is probably like. my favorite job but it’s also a tank and I still hate tanking

[library-of-ohara]

Pokemon Au Headcannons

anon: Pokemon au headcannons for whitebeards, mugiwaras, kid pirates maybe more? Plz!

@dxvilmanlev: ahhh I saw pokemon and got so excited and I already had thoughts for Kid Pirates and pokemon so this was the perfect chance for me to blurb it all out I also decided to add Mihawk and Perona bc i have ideas for them too<3 also I kept them in the one piece world and just inserted pokemon into the world lol i hope that’s okay<3

Eustass Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, Mihawk & Perona

SFW

Eustass Kid:

• His pokemon: houndoom, steelix, magneton, aggron, mawile, golbat

• I feel steel and dark pokemon fit Kid well

• His first pokemon was Houndour, which he found right before he went out to sea with killer, as they traveled together, Houndour evolved into Houndoom

• Houndoom's moves: Howl, Inferno, Bite, Foul Play

• Steelix was found later on in Kid’s travels, peeking its head over the ship when Kid found it, deciding the Steelix would be a cool addition to his team, he decided to catch it.

• Steelix’s moves: Rock Slide, Iron Tail, Automize, Slam

•Magneton was found when it was a magnemite, Kid was using his devil fruit to make something outside of the ship when the magnemite was pulled in by him. The magnemite evolved shortly after he caught it into Magneton

•Magneton’s moves: Thunder wave, Tri Attack, Magnet Rise, Flash Cannon

• Aggron was a pokemon Kid was battling when he decided it was strong and could be a great addition to his team.

• Aggron’s moves: Metal Claw, Metal Sound, Rock Tomb, Iron Tail

• At first Kid was deceived by Mawile, not thinking anything of the small pokemon until it turned around and bit him, to which he threw out houndoom to battle it. Seeing its strength Kid decided he’ll add it to his team.

• Mawile’s moves: Fairy Wind, Sweet Scent, Bite, Play Rough

• Golbat was found when Kid was scouting the area of his hideout late at night, seeing the bat like pokemon, he decided to battle it and catch it.

• Golbat’s moves: Mean Look, Poison Fang, Air Cutter, Confuse Ray

• When Kid started his journey he never really thought about getting pokemon but as he travelled, caught pokemon and built his team, he was proud of his team and worked hard to make them strong. Enjoys pokemon battles.

Killer:

• His pokemon: duskull, bisharp, scyther, marowak, gliscor, krokorok

• I gave him an assortment of pokemon that i felt fit him

• Early in Kid and Killer’s adventure, Killer was organizing the treasure they found on the most recent island they were at when he heard a noise coming from one of the chests, when he went to look and a duskull popped out. So he decided to catch it, being his first pokemon.

• Duskull’s moves: Shadow Sneak, Curse, Payback, Hex

• Bisharp was a pokemon Killer was battling, liking the sword blade pokemon, he decided instead of defeating it, he’ll catch it and add it to his team.

• Bisharp’s moves: Torment, Iron Defense, Night Slash, Iron Head

• Killer didn’t expect to like Scyther, battling it to get it away from the ship, but the pokemon was fast, keeping up all his attacks so he grew a liking to the Scyther and decided to catch it.

• Scyther’s moves: Fury Cutter, Swords Dance, X-Scissor, Wing Attack

• On their travels, Killer went for a walk at night, spotting a cubone, and seeing the tears in its eyes, feeling sorry for it, he came up to it and sat down, keeping the Cubone company. Within minutes the Cubone calmed down looking at the strong man that was next to it and started evolving into a Marowak, and started following Killer when he left, to which he added Marowak to his team.

• Marowak’s moves: Mud-Slap, Tail Whip, Bonemerang, Stomping Tantrum

• On another night walk, Killer ran into a Gliscor, a pokemon that wanted to battle, so Killer battled it and decided mid battle he was going to add it to his team.

• Gliscor’s moves: Poison Jab, Night Slash, Swords Dance, Knock Off

• Killer found Krokorok on a desert island, it kept following the crew to which Kid said to do something about it, Killer decided to go to the pokemon and feed it some berries, before trying to leave again. But it continued following Killer so he caught it.

• Krokorok’s moves: Sand Attack, Sand Tomb, Crunch, Earthquake

• Killer never really planned to catch pokemon when he set out to sea with Kid, but as his team grew he was fond of the pokemon, growing stronger with them by his side. Doesn’t care for battling pokemon, he’s happy chilling with his team.

Wire:

• His pokemon: zweilous, toxicroak, murkrow, haunter, zorua, vileplume

• I gave Wire some dark/poison/dark types that I think fit well with him

• Zweilous was Wire’s first pokemon, it was following him to the Victoria Punk without him noticing, Heat was the one who pointed it out to which he turned around and saw the pokemon and decided to feed it some berries to see the pokemon’s heads fighting. Catching the pokemon he decided to bring it with him on his journey with the Kid Pirates.

• Zweilous’s moves: Dragon Breath, Scary Face, Headbutt, Dragon Pulse

• One day when they were at a swampy island, a Toxicroak came up to Wire clearly wanting to battle him, to which Wire battled and decided it’d be cool to add another pokemon to his team.

• Toxicroak’s moves: Nasty Plot, Poison Jab, Taunt, Sludge Bomb

• One night at their hideout Wire went for a walk where he met a Murkrow, battling it and adding the pokemon to his team, he’ll often go on nightly walks with the Murkrow.

• Murkrow’s moves: Peck, Wing Attack, Night Shade, Torment

• Haunter was found when it was a Gastly, it was also found on one of Wire’s nightly walks, where he hid himself to silently catch the pokemon and adding it to his team, Gastly evolved into a Haunter a couple days later.

• Haunter’s moves: Lick, Spite, Sucker Punch, Payback

• Wire found Zorua on an island on the outskirts of town on a foggy day, at first all he saw was what he thought was a child but after kneeling down and getting close the pokemon changed back, cautiously walking up to Wire. Wire gave the dark type pokemon a berry before catching it.

• Zorua’s moves: Foul Play, Fake Tears, Scratch, Knock Off

• Vileplume was Wire’s third pokemon, he found the pokemon in a field on an island they were visiting, the grass/poison type tried to use poison powder on him as it was startled, but Wire was quick to get away and battle the pokemon and catch it.

• Vileplume’s moves: Poison Powder, Petal Blizzard, Petal Dance, Spun Spore

• It’s not that Wire didn’t want pokemon, he did, he just didn’t know much before meeting the Kid Pirates so he was excited when he finally got to catch his own team. Wire doesn’t care either way if someone wants to battle, also likes chilling with his pokemon.

Heat:

• His pokemon: weezing, arcanine, salandit, charmeleon, qwilfish, dragapulf

• I felt poison and fire types fit Heat well and added a dragon/ghost type (dragapulf) as well

• Heat found wheezing at the hideout when he was walking around, intrigued by the pokemon he caught it and added it to his team.

• Wheezing’s moves: Poison Gas, Smoke Screen, Sludge, Belch

• Arcanine was found when it was still a small Growlithe. He grew fond of the small fire type and decided to catch it, as time went on the Growlithe evolved into Arcanine.

• Arcanine’s moves: Flame Wheel, Fire Fang, Leer, Flare Blitz

• Salandit was Heat’s first pokemon, finding it when he was a teenager, he thought it was cool, and liked the poison/fire type so he caught it and it’s been by his side through all his travels.

• Salandit’s moves: Poison Gas, Poison Fang, Venom Drench, Flamethrower

• Charmeleon was his second pokemon that he found, when he first joined the Kid Pirates, he fed it some berries because it was hungry and it followed him since.

• Charmeleon’s moves: Growl, Ember, Fire Fang, Flamethrower

• Qwilfish was found following the ship, Heat would go out everyday and feed it til he eventually decided to add the Qwilfish to his team.

• Qwilfish’s moves: Poison Sting, Toxic Spikes, Aqua Tail, Water Gun

• Heat found Dragapulf when it was still a Drakloak, he found the Drakloak to be cool looking so he battled it and caught it to complete his team, as they travelled the Drakloak evolves into Dragapulf and Heat was even more proud to have the Dragon/ghost type with him.

• Dragapulf’s moves: Dragon Darts, Bite, Dragon Dance, Phantom Force

• Heat always couldn’t wait to go out to sea and catch pokemon, he spent time learning what he could and now that he has a team of strong pokemon he couldn’t be any more proud of himself. Heat does everything with his pokemon, and also enjoys battling.

Dracule Mihawk:

• His pokemon: sneasel, mightyena, dusknoir, espeon, chandelure, banette

• I gave Mihawk some ghost/dark & a psychic pokemon, i felt they were interesting and fit him well

• Mihawk found Sneasel injured, when he was visiting an island, taking the pokemon in he healed it’s wounds, and gave it medicine, knowing exactly what pokemon need. Growing fond of the pokemon he added the Sneasel to his team.

• Sneasel’s moves: Scratch, Icy Wind, Taunt, Slash

• Poochyena was Mihawk’s first pokemon that he found when he was a teenager, growing strong together everywhere they went, Poochyena eventually evolved into Mightyena over the years and has traveled with Mihawk since.

• Mightyena’s moves: Crunch, Howl, Scary Face, Take Down

• Mihawk found Dusknoir when it was a Dusclops on his island when he first came to it, battling the pokemon Mihawk found it to be strong and added it to his team, as time went by Mihawk evolved the pokemon into Dusknoir and battled with it to make it even stronger.

• Dusknoir’s moves: Shadow Punch, Astonish, Night Shade, Dark Pulse

• Mihawk never planned to have an eevee, he found them not as interesting, but one day an eevee was following him around and after many attempts to leave it, it always came back, so he decided to catch it and add it to his team, a few days later the during the day he let the eevee roam and it evolved into espeon, to which Mihawk was actually proud to have caught the pokemon.

• Espeon’s moves: Take Down, Psybeam, Charm, Baby-Doll Eyes

• When Mihawk first moved into Kuraigana Island, he found Chandelure in the castle lighting up a dark hallway with a purple glow, catching the pokemon and adding it to his team, he lets it roam free around the castle but usually it just follows him around when he talks walks.

• Chandelure’s moves: Smog, Confuse Ray, Hex, Inferno

• Mihawk also found Banette in one of the castle rooms, knowing the history of Kuraigana Island and how these pokemon appear he figured the pokemon was once a plush doll that was left behind by a child, he added the pokemon to his team.

• Banette’s moves: Curse, Shadow Sneak, Grudge, Phantom Force

• Living most of his life with pokemon, Mihawk knew a lot about them, knowing what berries certain pokemon liked. He seemed to have a natural knowledge of pokemon. Mihawk will only battle if he deems you worthy. His pokemon roam free in the castle when he’s home.

Perona:

• Her pokemon: woobat, umbreon, misdreavus, pumpkaboo, gothorita, morpeko

• She loves cute and spooky things so I gave her some super cute pokemon that I think suit her well<3

• Perona found woobat when she was walking around the forests of Thriller Bark, she found it so cute she just had to have it on her team.

• Woobat’s moves: Gust, Heart Stamp, Air Slash, Attract

• Perona’s first pokemon was an Eevee, it was the first pokemon she’s seen and she thought it was cute so she caught it, as time went by they grew close together, doing everything together when one night the eevee evolved into umbreon, Perona was so excited to have umbreon as apart of her team.

• Umbreon’s moves: Tail Whip, Moonlight, Feint Attack, Confuse Ray

• Perona found Misdreavus when she was sent to Kuraigana Island, she fell in love with the ghost type, catching it and adding it to her team.

• Misdreavus’s moves: Hex, Mean Look, Psywave, Shadow Ball

• Pumpkaboo was another pokemon Perona found on Thriller Bark. She was taking a night stroll when it started following her around, falling in love with the cute pumpkin pokemon. Perona gave it berries and caught it.

• Pumpkaboo’s moves: Trick or Treat, Seed Bomb, Shadow Ball, Scary Face

• When Perona first joined the Thriller bark Pirates, a Gothita followed Perona around, Perona would feed it berries, and eventually decided to catch the psychic type, as time went on and the Gothita evolved into Gothorita and Perona was excited as the pokemon was still cute and now stronger.

• Gothorita’s moves: Confusion, Fake Tears, Psybeam, Psychic

• When Perona decided to go back to Thriller Bark, she found a Morpeko stuffing its face with seeds, once it was done it changed form turning purple and having angry eyes, she fed it some more seed and caught the cute electric/dark pokemon before it could get hangry again.

• Morpeko’s moves: Thunder Shock, Flatter, Spark, Aura Wheel

• Perona has always loved pokemon since she was young, she wanted to have the cutest team of pokemon and she’s also one who has some knowledge of pokemon, reading and looking for cute pokemon everywhere. Loves battling. Definitely dresses her pokemon up and they love it.

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?