#hence why they had to hire a *professional*

[ciaomarie]

ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

[therealhousewifeofharrystyles]

Harry’s Home

(PART I.)

Pairing: Roommate!Harry // Nameless 1st-Person Femme Protagonist

Word Count: ~ 12k words

‼️Mature/18+‼️

⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Lots of Flirting, Pining, Love/Hate Dynamic, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Body Objectification (M & F), References to Masturbation (F), Mentions of Body-Type Biases, Alcohol Consumption (Legal & Responsible Drinking), References to Ovulation & Implications to Breeding

**ANY & ALL IMAGES USED ARE NOT MINE**

Likes, Comments, Reblogs, and Follows are 100% welcome 💕

Weeknights deserve more credit. For many of us, it’s the peaceful resolution to our day. It’s the time when we come home after being excused from our lectures or meetings, or when we clock-out at the end of our shifts. We’ll safely make it back to our comfort zones and our open time slot can be occupied with whatever we want. Those few free hours are sacred. They give adults a necessary recharge. Personally, I share my humble homestead with an egotistical, British businessman—Harry Styles.

Harry was employed as a marketing executive for a unisex fashion brand located in Portland, Oregon. ‘Vol. 6’ started out as a small business, and had recently made waves in the industry with its diverse designs and overall style inclusivity. The company’s roots were planted by a few local, starving artists who set up an online shop with the most modest of intentions. The amateurs were blindsided by how their ideas blew up in overwhelming popularity via the internet. It was like winning the lottery. They eventually accumulated so many orders that they needed to expand their operations—hiring an A-team of designers, tailors, and legal professionals(for copyright purposes, of course). International sweatshops and inhumane labor conditions were far from what Vol. 6 sought to create. And so they stayed in Portland—keeping their focus upon ensuring exceptional product quality, as well as enforcing flexible, comfortable, and progressive working environments for its employees. Although an underdog in the fashion scene, Vol. 6’s excellent reputation continued to soar without a hitch. It turns out that a cohesive process of structured business management and clever marketing can be achieved without sacrificing empathy, creativity, realness, or substance. The only disadvantage is the limited supply of merchandise whilst there’s a metastasizing demand. It’s not like this kind of business structure is rare. High-status designer brands have been known to keep their stock low—or at least that’s what they say—for their popular items to seem more valuable and special. As an operation that works against those capitalist games, Vol. 6 values employee and customer satisfaction over profit. The company’s active attention and true kindness are what separates them from the rest.

So, as I mentioned before, Harry is a part of Vol. 6’s marketing team. He often collaborates with the designing team when he’s working on new promotions or adverts. Creative cohesiveness is essential to successful marketing. Hence why Harry and Mitch became close friends as they had consistently developed ads together for a couple of years.

Some have referred to the boys as yin and yang. One of the two tended to present himself as intimidating and pretentious, whilst the other was comparatively quite mild and personable. It was a mystery how these men befriended one another instead of becoming enemies. Harry was the type that wanted to complete tasks his way, and his way only. In total contrast, Mitch liked spontaneity—preferring to ‘go with the flow’ rather than planning ahead. That method of living was despised by Harry. He was set in his ways. It didn’t make sense to him how his friend could act so unbothered by the world’s chaos. Maybe it was just his hot temper, or maybe it was the way his natural responses to conflict were either instigating a verbal quarrel or using bitter humor as a defense mechanism…but Harry just wasn’t a people person. Mitch had thankfully brought him out of his comfort zone a few times—reminding Harry of his university days when his mates had turned him into a womanizer. The results, however, differed from those times due to Harry developing a bleeding heart as he progressed through his twenties. He was open to new experiences and fun banter with strangers as long as Mitch accompanied him. And so they became somewhat of a package-deal. Well, at least that had been the case before Mitch started dating Sarah Jones.

Harry had nothing to dislike about Mitch’s girlfriend. They got along just fine. However, Mitch became less and less available to Harry outside of work…Which meant Harry wasn’t going out much, and that was his issue. Of course he was happy for his friend—Mitch was supportive of him when he was in a serious relationship a few years back. There was no reason for Harry to be bitter. I personally believe he was just lamenting; that he was struggling to accept the fact that life would no longer be the same as it was. He looked back to when he was working towards a degree and reminisced about how he felt more socially fulfilled from living with, and eventually befriending, complete strangers. Those college memories had been the stepping stones of Harry’s development into true adulthood. He had no intention to ever stop growing and improving as a man. Thus why Harry sought to make a big lifestyle change in order to work towards branching out on his own accord. No more was he to reside in a bachelor-pad apartment with a shitty landlord who had never fixed the rattling air-conditioner. He was going to move somewhere more permanent. A place where he could enter his thirties as successful, single, and not lonely. A housemate would solidify the latter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having met him briefly a few times, Sarah recognized a few of Harry’s traits as noticeably familiar. She knew someone personally with identical mood swings, a goofy laugh, and an annoyingly specific taste regarding every little thing. The combination of resemblances felt bizarre to witness up close. She felt like Harry had been performing as some sort of parody—speaking in hyperboles and absolutes as a joke. But she soon realized she was wrong and that he was just like that. Reacting emotionally was actually his genuine response to any sort of change. Sure, she’d interacted with the moody type before. She’d also certainly met plenty of picky control-freaks. Only, the person Harry reminded her of was unique in that she was entertainingly campy, yet sincerely empathetic; and Harry was the same. That person who’d come to her mind was me. And as soon as Sarah heard the news that Harry was looking for a roommate, her ears perked up and she reached out to me immediately.

But I guess I should probably explain the origin story of Harry and me, together, in more detail…here, I’ll start over:

My introduction to Harry was when a friend of mine, Sarah, gave me the news that her boyfriend’s officemate, Harry, was looking to lease a new place. The house was located in a nice suburban area just outside of Portland. Seeing that the neighborhood had been on the upscale side, he wanted to find a roommate to split the pricey rent with. Me, working full time and desperately seeking a replacement for living with my parents, saw this as the golden opportunity to finally have true independence. My initial excitement almost deterred me from wondering whether this ‘Harry’ dude was decent, or reliable, or if he was just some complete prick. I’d never met the guy. I didn’t know a single thing about him besides his name, and yet I’d already begun to mentally pack my bags. I still should’ve had more reservations about it. But then again, I was already aware of how uncomfortable living with a complete stranger was—thanks to college life in the U.S., of course. Also, Sarah’s boyfriend, Mitch, was (and still is) a respectable guy and I was sure he’d only surround himself with people of the like…logically speaking. After all, he was my closest friend’s boyfriend. If Harry stepped on my toes even once, Mitch would endure a hurricane of wrath from my Sarah.

The added layer of safety provided by my best friend’s loyalty was comforting. But this was still a gigantic step for me as a young adult. I’d be actually moving out of my parents’ house entirely for the first time ever. You could say I was blissfully naive of what challenges and obstacles my future held. Apart from all my idealistic daydreaming, I couldn’t help seeking a clearer picture of who Harry actually was (literally and figuratively).

Sarah had given me a basic description:

“He’s a sweet guy. But he tends to act kind of… ambiguous at times? His vibes go back and forth, you know? Kind of unpredictable. Hot ‘n cold…” she trailed on.

Ok. That obviously required significant elaboration—of which she’d eventually come around to providing after I sang the classic Katy Perry lyrics she’d unintentionally referenced.

“…Yeah, yeah, yeah…” She dismissed me, my sing-songy tangent coming to a giggly close.

“…But I’m serious—Mitch has told me all about Harry’s passive narcissism and how much of a stubborn grump he can be…I don’t know, maybe it’s a British thing. A stereotype, I know; but he switches from sarcastic to compassionate on the flip of a dime…” Sarah rambled.

I squinted at her and shook my head in disbelief. This was starting to sound a little sketchy. A grumpy, moody, narcissist? Awesome.

“Psh, so he’s a crabby geriatric divorceé? Wonderful…It’s no wonder he’s got that old-timey name, to boot. The guy just needs a caretaker…also, why would Volume 6 hire an old dude to handle their marketing campaigns..?” I joked.

Sarah shook her head and laughed as if I’d just said something utterly ridiculous.

“HA! Oh, god…I’ll have to remember to tell Mitch all of what you just said.” Sarah wheezed, entertained by my very false assumptions of Harry.

I blinked at her, not understanding why she found what I said so funny.

“…You have it all wrong, babe. He moved here from the UK, like, 10 years ago I think? Mitch said he hopped around from LA to New York City, then from New York to…um, well…to here, in sweet ole Portlandia.” She concluded.

As a young woman in her early-twenties, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this living arrangement coming to life.

The look on my face must have revealed my doubts because my friend chuckled, waving her hands around for emphasis, and quickly clearing the air for me.

“Wait, wait, hold on! Before you tune out—He’s in his late 20’s! Just realizing how weird that sounded…Yeesh, I’d never let you live with some stinky, old, Englishman, you dummy!”

Phew…That sounded much better. It wouldn’t be too different from living with my older brother, then. But that one word, ‘ambiguous’—it wouldn’t leave my mind. Adjectives like that just leave too much to the imagination…well, to mine, anyway. What was Harry being all ambiguous about? My overzealous curiosity pushed me to spiral, conjuring up whatever dirty secrets that would be instant deal-breakers for me…

Did he smoke inside? Did he hate cats? Dogs? Or worse, was he the leader of some creepy murder cult? And if so, would he reserve our living room for their weekly meetings?!

...Would I be spared as a sacrifice because of my not-so-virgin blood?

Was he a fratty douchebag who peaked in college and succumbed to alcoholism?

Was he the type who’d refuse to be my roommate once he saw that I wasn’t a size-00? Would he feel catfished and tell me I looked “bigger in person?” …Not like that sort of thing really mattered to me—I’d just heard that before from a few guys around his age who were surely expecting to be faced with some petite porcelain doll…

Anyway, I guess I just hoped he’d be direct enough to tell me…you know…anything worth mentioning before I’d officially become his roommate. For all I knew, he was probably just a snobby little brat with an annoying, pompous accent.

Amidst my internal ramblings, Sarah added that Harry was a perfectionist.

So, I was right—he was a brat.

I wanted to stay positive, though. Maybe he was just a neat freak, and that’s what Sarah was implying. I mean, that didn’t sound too intolerable, right? And if he was moody, maybe he’d just keep to himself most of the time. I was perfectly fine with that. I tended to keep to myself most of the time, too...though, I never thought of myself as that moody…

Whoever he was, I just crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t have any attitude similarities to Simon Cowell. Just imagining that possibility made my head hurt and my self-confidence plummet. Whatever. That was probably unlikely, right?

Nonetheless, I was desperate for answers. Sarah just shrugged at me and told me to look him up myself if I wanted to know more. And so, I went to work.

Who was Harry Styles? Aye, that was the question…sorry, I’ll continue:

Doing some basic Googling, it seemed that Harry was at least somewhat active on social media…enough that he wasn’t untraceable, at least. This was one of those (very)few times where I was legitimately grateful for the existence of online social platforms. I scrolled and scrolled, and clicked, and scrolled some more…for probably 3 solid hours. Daylight had actually run out by the time I’d realized how badly my corneas were stinging. I’d looked at myself in the black reflection of my phone and could see the popped blood vessels in the whites of my eyes. At least I found what I was searching for.

Luckily for me, his—albeit, ancient—Facebook page looked genuine and free of any red flags. To my dismay, I had to send a friend request and a follow request to his socials in order to actually have access to the profiles. Did that make it obvious that I was in the middle of e-stalking him? Quite likely, yes…But I’d let my excitement and curiosity overtake my sense of self-preservation that night. Tiptoeing around so I could naturally stumble across a morsel of information would’ve been agonizing. My main objective was more important to me than playing mind games with that stranger, Mister Harry Styles. I wanted so badly to free myself from the confines of my childhood home, regardless. Ugh! I was the only one in my friend group who still lived with their parents, and the lack of privacy only weighed heavier on me as time progressed. My dear friend, Sarah, kindly gifted me my long-awaited chance at freedom by sending Harry’s offer my way, and I wanted to run with it.

Yes, I may have been diving face-first into a serious commitment with a complete stranger. Sure, I’ve never lived with a man who wasn’t related to me. And, yeah, I was nervous that this guy was going to reject me because I was younger, eager, and…kinda on the chubby side, to be honest. I know, I know…

My size shouldn’t matter, I knew that, and I still know that. It never truly matters. I knew my situation wasn’t the same as meeting a lousy Tinder date or whatever, but I felt paranoid regardless. All sorts of men have burned me in the past with their shallowness, so I wasn’t about to hold onto a false guise of confidence just for my big break to disappoint me in the end. The age difference felt somewhat significant on top of that. I’d been made aware that Harry was a few years my senior, but it didn't bother me. I hoped it wouldn’t bother him, either…that, and everything else about me, of course…I just had to wait and see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He accepted my friend/follow requests immediately, and I dove head-first into research (lowkey-stalker) mode. From awkward prom photos and blurry, live music performances, the innocence of his Facebook profile finally put my worries at ease. His most recent profile picture was of him, his mother, and his sister. The candid, selfie-style photo successfully pulled a smile out of me. It’s not a secret that there are wolves in sheep’s clothing out there. But my gut assured me he was safe—that he was a decent guy. The back and forth comments on those family photos were friendly enough for me to assume a close bond between the two siblings, especially. My cheeks started to ache from my incessant smiling and giggling. The pictures were just so cute, I had to message Sarah about it.

[Text Messages]

Me: stfu this guy is adorable 😫

Sarah: HA I’ll have Mitch let him know u think so 😏 ❤️

Me: Oh my god, fr pls don’t

Sarah: Too late 😉

Me: Alrighty 🙂 Brb…gonna go play in traffic 🤪

Sarah: Ur such a drama queen lol

Me: Yep, that’s me 😚

Sarah: xoxo 😘💋

** one week later **

Sarah told me Harry was a bit different than the way he seemed in those family photos. She said he had tattoos and that he was a total frat boy at heart. All shyness aside, “…his true colors shine their brightest when he’s riled up…I’ve seen it. Little crabby pants man-child.” It was safe to say that Sarah was explicitly giving me a warning for Harry’s hot temper. I looked past it at the time because–as a sensitive crybaby myself–I assumed he was just in-tune with his emotions. I saw nothing wrong with that. I actually found it to be quite refreshing. A handsome man who isn’t an emotionless narcissist or a bird-brained himbo? Sounded pretty exciting to me! I looked forward to possibly cohabitating with someone who had a solid connection to their empathetic side.

Also, basically everyone and their mom has a tattoo or a sleeve. Harry wasn’t different or special in that way to me at all. I completely shrugged it off. Who cared? Still curious as all hell, I scrolled around for a link to his Instagram. The link was right there on his Facebook profile.

Nice.

This is just too easy, I thought. I’ve got all this information on this man at my fucking fingertips.

Wow wow wow wow…

So, uh…Needless to say, Harry presented himself as a little less, um…well, I definitely wouldn’t have pegged him as a “mama’s-boy.” I mean, it wasn’t like he was unrecognizably different or anything. Sarah’s depiction of him, although vague, was right on the nose. All of this was meant for research purposes only. But it was objectively true that he was insanely gorgeous. It was just a fact. Pretending like Harry was average in attractiveness…I mean, why would I do that? Why would I lie to myself when the man was just an innocent sight for my sore eyes? That’s all he was…he was cute. Handsome. Adorable. It was as simple as that. I just don’t know why I couldn’t stop coming back to his Instagram time and time again. No matter how paranoid I’d been about accidentally liking a post from like…5 years ago…I still kept clicking on his profile for more.

He had a few videos of him working out—pull ups, bench presses, deadlifts—all of which featured a very sweaty, and very shirtless Harry.

He also had a few group shots with friends. Sometimes there would be a picture of him with his mom or his sister.

The latest posts revealed his plethora of tattoos to my unexpecting eyes. It was obvious that he knew he was attractive. He knew he wasn’t some average Joe. And I swear he had to have known I was looking. Surely he was looking at mine, too. But I was quite conservative and innocent on my instagram profile—similar to the way he looked on his Facebook. I had to admit, the general vibe of this virtual scrapbook was indeed leaning on the fratty side. Sarah was right. He also seemed aloof in some ways. It looked like he preferred small gatherings to larger ones. He didn’t post very often, and it was hardly ever him who’d be taking photos of himself. Someone else would capture Harry’s beauty.

The contrast between the two online profiles distracted the hell out of me. Specifically, I found myself gawking at him in his sweaty workout videos. His defined shoulder muscles quickly caught my attention, my gaze drifting across the defined blades until I ventured lower. The butterfly on his abdomen was both creepy and beautiful. It reminded me of the moth from Silence of the Lambs. Its wings glistened with a layer of moisture as he pulled himself up and down on the steel bar. Beads of sweat made his chestnut curls cling damply to his skin. I salivated watching this man strain and flex continuously; and I felt myself arch my back while I sat, pressing and grinding my clothed core against my mattress.

Jesus…What was happening to me?!

So, uh…the truth is…I thought Harry was really fucking hot. There was no point in lying about it. His hair just looked so soft and silky, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. I wanted to pull at it. I wanted to slide my soapy hands across the art on his body under a steaming hot shower. I wanted to kiss my way down until I was met with what I was 10000% convinced would stand a girthy, 7-inch masterpiece. Oddly specific, I know. But it was obvious he had a gorgeous dick to compliment the rest of him. He just had this vibe—this aura about him. It’s hard to explain. What was worse was how it seemed as if he knew he exuded that ‘big-dick energy,’ too.

So why 7 inches? Well, the dildo I’d been using for a while was about 6 inches—which was very nice, don’t get me wrong. But it just didn’t quite fill me…completely. And so I’d begun to fantasize about how Harry could stuff my holes instead. Fantasy Harry was a motherfucking dreamboat, let me tell ya. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about him—from carrying heavy boxes into the house and helping me unpack, to flat-out forcing me onto all fours, spanking my ass, and fucking me to tears. The fantasies only evolved over time, no matter how hard I tried to push those perverse thoughts away…but to be honest, I didn’t want to…

Nevermind his admittance of vanity, he still had a gentleness about him…hiding somewhere beyond those pale, teal eyes. Or maybe it was my overwhelming attraction to him that cast a rosy hue to how I perceived his character. I guess that was possible. However, I tended to have a good radar for these sorts of things—people, I mean. Harry made me feel excited, secure, comfortable, and very horny. I had no intentions of backing out from signing that lease, and I decided it was time to officially confirm that with him.

My addiction had only worsened from there. I’d begun to shamelessly use his posts as some sort of spank bank for my regular sessions of alone time. My body reacted quite positively to the change in routine. I couldn’t get too into it, though, as I hardly ever had the house to myself. That was one reason why I wanted out of there. Of course, I was still able to have my fun; I just needed to keep quiet. But fucking myself to Harry made staying quiet extremely difficult. It was like masturbating on Hard Mode. I was constantly hyper aware of how I handled my phone with my one free hand—so as to not double-tap. Then there were some photos of him where I’d pinch and zoom in closer, straining my eyes to see if I could make out the outline of his bulge. He wore black athletic shorts a lot of the time, so he was usually protected by the camouflage of the dark fabric. In one of his weight-lifting videos, though, he brought the bar up from the floor up to his knees, then slid it up just below his hips, and—oh my god. The metal pressed so closely to the tops of his thighs that he had his whole package propped up. His shorts tightened perfectly around him. It was so subtle, most people would probably miss it upon first glance. But I didn’t. I saw it. And now I can’t unsee it.

Oh…but he wouldn’t post him with a…or would he…?

Ugh, that cocky little smirk…Fucking asshole.

I hated him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, I felt really dirty for thinking about my new roommate like that.

Oh, yeah…Sorry, uh, I forgot to mention: the two of us had e-signed the lease. I know, I know…but I needed to take the offer! How could I pass up the chance to 1.) move out of my parents’ house, and 2.) move in with a sexy, brooding, successful British man whom I could trust because he was a mutual friend AND…I honestly loved the house. It was old, but not broken or in shambles. The floors were amber hardwood, and the whole house was finished with matching carved, wooden railings and accent wall paneling. Having recently been remodeled, the kitchen was in excellent shape. Appliances were updated. The property was managed by an association which handled the lawn, utilities, and small, miscellaneous amenities. We had our own driveway, a connected two-car garage, and our mailbox was labeled with both of our last names.

The charming little cottage condo was now officially, and contractually, mine and Harry’s. I was ecstatic about it, honestly. We still hadn’t met in person yet, which I knew wasn't the smartest approach, but we’d at least chatted a bit over text and shared some friendly phone calls. His voice was insanely sexy, might I add. I knew he was from the UK, as per Sarah, and so of course I was expecting to be greeted with that accent. What I was not expecting was this slow, deep…rough…

Eek, sorry—um, I wasn’t expecting a voice like that to come out of the speaker, that’s all. Dare I say it, he actually sounded nervous to talk to me on that first call. He’d stutter his words whenever I posed a question, and I could practically hear his boyish smile through my phone. It also took forever for him to end our calls—our goodbyes resembling the never-ending midwestern kind that I was unfortunately very familiar with. They didn’t feel nearly as painful or awkward, though. Listening to his accented mumbles on the other line released a flutter of butterflies in my belly.

I later learned that Harry had performed his own research on me. The only difference was that he’d done most of it a week or so before we’d e-signed the lease together.

It was simple. At work, Mitch mentioned me in a conversation regarding the house Harry had his eye on. He was interested the moment my name was suggested, a gut-feeling making him latch onto me. Once he’d discovered my online profiles by searching through Mitch’s mutuals, his infatuation with me soared. He had a juvenile crush on me from the get-go.

Feeling 17 again, Harry would look for openings in their casual discussions so that he could bring me up. Mitch, being a good sport, spent day after day playing his role as the messenger between the 4 of us. He wished Sarah had just given Harry my phone number straight away instead. If she did, Mitch would’ve been able to eat his lunches in peace. Not only did Mitch lack the answers to those questions, but he’d also only interacted with me a handful of times. He struggled to provide Harry with even the barebones descriptions. How was he supposed to know whether I was a morning or a night person, or what my thermostat preference was, or which days I did my laundry, or how often I had guests over? My private social media accounts offered better information about me than that of the fleeting memories my best friend’s boyfriend stored in his brain.

Harry intended to use somewhat of a surreptitious approach to voicing his curiosity to Mitch. But his sly efforts were useless, as Mitch caught onto his scheme quite easily. There wasn’t anything indicating to me that he was interested in me in any way. Well, not until Sarah let it slip that Harry couldn’t keep my name out of his mouth whenever he spoke to Mitch. But I thought he was just curious…I mean, I was a random, younger woman whom he was going to be living with. It made sense to me that he wanted to know so much about me. I was just as curious.

Casual lunch conversations between the two men had begun to form a particular pattern of redirection. At first, Mitch thought Harry was simply just eager to send in his deposit before anyone else could. The rent cost was a steal for how nice the house was and for the lovely neighborhood it was in. However, he knew all this enthusiasm was directed towards me, in particular, when Harry’s eyes were perma-glued to his screen whilst scrolling through my photos. I didn’t really have that much to scroll through, but apparently Harry spent enough time staring at each individual picture that one may have assumed I had an endless gallery. He’d even taken the liberty of digging further and eventually found my LinkedIn page. I remember how the week before our first phone call, I’d gotten a notification from LinkedIn telling me that someone viewed my profile…I didn't even know why I kept the app on my phone since I was content with my current job. Nevertheless, Harry’s investigation wasn’t as covert as he’d hoped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was scrolling around on my LinkedIn profile in the Vol. 6 breakroom. Without thinking, he outwardly deduced to Mitch, “She must be the commitment type,” referring to my short, yet impressive résumé. He promptly followed up his inference by chiming,“She’s lookin’ for something’ serious then, hm?”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, Harry’s nonchalance disappeared.

Mitch stopped in his tracks as Harry decided to drag the comment out further.

“I-I mean, like, for a serious living arrangement, y’know?” Harry squeaked.

Mitch cringed in discomfort as the cracking of Harry’s voice pierced his eardrums. To the man’s dismay, his friend didn’t know how to shut his mouth.

“…Some people can be quite fickle ‘bout it, yeah? And what, she’s 24? Surely she’s been disappointed by dozens of pricks by now. Must be dying for someone she can actually rely on, dontcha think?”

Mitch pursed his lips and half-heartedly agreed, “Mhm, probably sick of the fear-of-commitment type.”

Harry nodded and pulled at his lip with his thumb and forefinger. He then continued to ramble on.

“Now tha’ I’m edging on 30…I dunno…’guess I’m just looking—” He paused to clear his throat and scratch his nose with his knuckle. He looked considerably anxious. “—looking forward to, uh, commitments, and all tha’.”

Mitch’s eyes narrowed towards his friend who kept fidgeting with his hands on top of the table and dodging all eye contact. He found Harry’s clumsiness entertaining. He wanted to see how long he could get him to chase his tail. Instigating, Mitch said,“Yeah…So, uh, did you find anything else interesting about her?”

Harry lifted his head up to meet with the other man’s suspecting stare.

“Huh? Well, y-yes, definitely! ‘Course I did. She, uh…well, she’s—”

“—She’s a pretty girl…yeah, H?” Mitch interrupted, cutting him off from his stuttering. Harry swallowed dryly in response. At that point, it seemed to him that Mitch had finally picked up on his crush.

“Uhm, yeah…yeah, I think she is. Quite lovely, now that y’mention it.” His eyes blinked down at the zoomed image of me in a bridesmaid’s dress displayed on his clutched phone screen. Mitch patted Harry’s shoulder, heartily laughing at the glassy-eyed brunette in front of him.

Except, Harry wasn’t laughing. The shells of his ears turned red hot and his knee bobbed awkwardly under the table, unintentionally knocking on the hard surface a few times.

“Ah! Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, holding his nervous knee down.

“Harry, it’s ok if you have a lil crush on her...” Mitch assured him. Harry gnawed on the inside of his lip as Mitch kept on. “…God, y’know, I haven’t seen you down this bad since…well, since Cam, I think...”

Harry gulped at the mention of the woman’s name…the woman who broke his heart several years earlier. His discomfort with the subject was apparent to his friend who then swiftly rephrased. “Shit…Sorry…I just mean, like, you’ve got heart-eyes for a girl you’ve never even met. You don’t know her. She doesn’t know you…”

Harry stayed silent.

“…Honestly, I’m surprised. ‘Used to you always going for the Barbie-type. It’s nice to see you’re, uh, broadening your horizons, hm?” He smirked and drew an exaggerated hourglass in the air with his hands.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and got defensive at the suggestive implication. “Besides having dated all women, I’ve never had a type, Mitchell.” He scoffed. “And another thing—” Harry quipped, his pupils swallowing the soft green of his irises. Mitch, unintimidated, seemed quite amused by his friend’s sensitive temper.

“—You shouldn’t talk about her like tha’. Inn’ she close with Sarah?! That’s your girlfriend’s best friend. ‘S fucked up.”

Mitch nodded in agreement with a dismissing chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sarah’s known her for years, but I was just messing with you, man. Relax.”

The men were quiet for a few moments before Mitch sent a warning Harry’s way.“Don’t fuck around with her, ok? ‘less you’re looking to mop up the poor girl’s tears every day. You’re signing a 3-year lease, remember? Try not to think with the wrong head.”

Harry glared at Mitch.

Wha—mopping up tears?! That’s a bit dramatic…

Contrary to Mitch’s assumptions, Harry wasn’t planning to create an uncomfortable living space. That’s the last thing he wanted. Sure, he was attracted to me and felt little butterflies fluttering in his belly when he read my posts and my texts. So what?! That’s his business if he had a teeny tiny crush on his potential housemate. It felt like Mitch was deliberately egging him on, and that’s precisely how the conversation escalated.

“What—? What are you going on about?” His voice strained to release the words. Mitch was done beating around the bush—he realized how the aftermath of Harry’s pursuit of me could end with lots of crying on my part; and worst of all, a very angry Sarah Jones. He wanted to avoid that outcome as much as possible.

“H, you’re stalking her Facebook and shit—”

“—Oi! ’S not like tha’! I just wanna know who I’m asking to move in w’me!”

“Ok, well I’m pretty sure you don’t keep looking through all her photos because you wanna know how good she is about washing the dishes.”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about…” Harry huffed. “…’Sides, you know it takes me a bit to get comfortable with people. Not to mention, I've never had a bloody roommate befo’, either.”

He was telling the truth—omitting some personal details in the process, but that didn’t matter. Not to Harry, at least. He knew Mitch was terrible at keeping secrets and that Sarah would be in the know before he could even finish a confession. There was no way he was going to risk jeopardizing such a safe and pleasant option with sharing his feelings so soon.

“Okay…” Mitch trails off. The air in the room was still and it made him uneasy. Harry scratched the shadow of stubble adorning his jaw. His impulsive mouth thankfully filled the silence that was suffocating them previously. As grown men and friends, the boys seemed to act like stubborn adolescents when it came to women—specifically, when it came to Harry and women.

“Um…so, you said you’ve met her before, yeah?” Harry couldn’t let it go.

Mitch drank from his water bottle and gave Harry the thumb’s up with his free hand.

“Then uh, why don’t you tell me ‘bout her? Like…Wha’s she like in person…?” Mitch took a deep breath and screwed the cap back onto the bottle. He then rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his chin mockingly. It was like Mitch was searching for ways to further tease Harry about his crush. Harry chose to ignore it this time.

Despite lacking approval in Harry’s newfound love-interest, Mitch offered him his honest knowledge anyway.“Hmm…well, I first met her at Sarah’s birthday party a few years back…She was nice, just a little on the quiet side. Seemed like she was holding herself back in that way, you know?”

The sincerity of his recollection shocked Harry. He was expecting to be turned down or mocked once again—he was even planning in his head what to send me via DM to further get to know me, assuming Mitch would’ve ended the conversation by that point. Luckily, he was mistaken.

“I remember her, like, tearing up at a picture of Lexi’s daughter. I thought that was a bit dramatic—the crying, I mean—but, I guess she hadn’t seen Lexi and her baby in almost a year or something..? I dunno…”

Harry frowned, empathizing with my reaction. It broke his heart whenever he couldn’t see his godchildren for long stretches of time, too. Mitch then tapped his fingertips against the table, traveling deeper into his memory to provide more details for Harry.

“…I’d say she’s sensitive in general, though. Sar told me how she’s always the one crying at movies, crying’ in arguments…cries whenever she sees a cat video on TikTok. Kind of a hot-mess, if you ask me…”

Harry’s lips twitched into a smile imagining my expressive emotions.

“...OH!” Mitch clapped his hands and chuckled before proceeding.

“She’s got this laugh that’s, uh, it’s like low-key really loud. Like, sometimes it’ll be this crazy wheeze and then, right away, she’s as red as a fuckin’ tomato. Sarah thinks it’s hilarious and they’ll basically laugh at each other for an hour. But yeah, you can tell she gets all weird and embarrassed after she laughs, though—and she apologizes for everything, all the time. Always sayin’ sorry when she literally didn’t do anything. I swear, dude…Someone could knock her onto her ass and she’d be the one to apologize. Wait, I think she’s from somewhere in the Midwest—like the northern nicey-nice states, y’know, so maybe it’s that? I’m not sure.”

“That’s…kinda cute.” Harry mumbled, his cheeks turning rosy.

Mitch grinned. “Oh, you think so?” A pink hue then washed over Harry’s skin entirely and he bashfully ran his hand through his loose curls. “Yeah, she seems quite lovely—I mean…”Harry stumbled over his admiration, trying his best to sound cool and detached. He failed miserably.

“…I-I dunno…Jus’ forget it.” He then buried his face in his hands, shamefully admitting defeat.

Mitch rolled his eyes and chuckled at his lovelorn friend. He guessed Harry was only randomly feeling things for me because he’s lived in a bachelor’s paradise for too long. It was also a known fact that he’d only have short flings once every blue moon. Those flings have become fewer and farther between as of late. Romance and commitment weren’t really Harry’s forte.

It’s not that he didn’t want a partner, but that he viewed the whole relationship-building process to be strenuous and stressful. Life and work were already difficult enough to balance. And so, for the past few years, Harry let himself be completely occupied by his job at Vol. 6. The go-to excuse to his friends (and especially his mother) for not settling down yet was that he carried a heavy workload, and he didn’t want to be an absent partner because of it. He’d end those conversations with a snippy “‘S as simple as that” phrase.

Even so, Harry was praying to God in the privacy of his lonely bedroom that he’d have the chance to settle down soon. All his adult life, he’d aspired to meet ‘the one’ and for him to give that one all his love and all his babies—a hopeless, hungry romantic Harry was. Dreams like these passed through his subconscious more frequently the more he aged. The British businessman was famished, desperate for love and connection.

Dating around was disappointing and redundant, and one-night-stands made him feel gross. He wasn’t simply a dumb, horny teenager anymore, he wasn’t even much of a dumb hornball of a man in his early adult years. Nay. He always kept an underlying craving for passion and compatibility. Harry was going to enter his 30’s in less than a year and he desired more than lackluster, meaningless sex with boring strangers. He needed more than arm candy. He needed more than a weak flame. He longed for an all-encompassing wildfire to eat away at his flesh from the inside out. He wanted to feel someone’s presence consume him.

Recently, Harry’s dreaming intuition had been signaling to him that he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to finally find his person. He was so needy for someone to genuinely love, and he felt overwhelmingly drawn to me from the very start—to my smile, my innocence, and my bleeding heart that matched his own. My lucky arrival into his life had only increased his determination towards lifelong romantic and sexual fulfillment. He just knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The time had come for us to meet in person. We’d gone out for drinks with Mitch and Sarah one weekend. It was a safe choice. This way, no one would feel uncomfortable, left out, or excluded. But in all honesty, it felt more like a double-date than a friendly gathering at a local bar.

I had been somewhat apprehensive about drinking around Harry knowing how I was a bit of a flirty(slutty) drunk. All it took was 1.5 cocktails for me to be a giggling, cock-hungry devil woman. Sarah knew this about me. She’d witnessed my nymphomania from the sidelines whenever we’d go out for a girls’ night. Yet, this knowledge did nothing to prevent her from ordering the 4 of us tequila shots before I’d even stepped into the establishment.

Of course, I was late—I’m late to everything. But that night, it was different. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown with hangers and loose clothes strewn across my bed and crumpled in clumps on the floor. Even my mother felt the need to knock on my door after one of my particularly loud outbursts of frustration—making sure I wasn’t actually in pain. I was fine. I just needed to look my absolute-fucking-best when I met my dream guy face-to-face for the first time! Was that such a crime to try and accomplish?!

My mom didn’t get it.

I’d finally slipped into a pair of high-waisted, dark wash jeans that made my ass look like a big, juicy peach, and a red, ruffled peplum-blouse that deliciously hugged my curves—my large breasts, especially. I topped it off with a tin cup choker and a pair of black, knee-high, heeled leather boots. My self-confidence switched from plummeting to soaring once I’d done a final mirror check on my way out the door.

I knew I had the ability to somewhat ‘make an entrance’ (in dim lighting, at least). However, as soon as Harry and I locked eyes, I saw his mouth hanging open as if I was an A-List celebrity approaching him. My stomach glittered with butterflies at witnessing the effects of my gorgeously buxom appearance. The high-pitched ring of Sarah’s playful wolf-whistle pulled me back to reality.

There he was. He was real. And he was even hotter than I thought he was. Yet, it was him whose features reacted to me with lusty enchantment.

His pupils were devouring me as we stood in a lull. My hand extended towards him for a cordial handshake. But as his large hand gripped mine, he pulled me into his chest for a hug—planting a soft kiss on my cheek. What was even more unexpected was how natural it felt to have his arms around me. The four of us then did a few rounds of shots that night. As a (heavy-weighted) lightweight, I was giggling like crazy after the first two throws. Harry laughed every time I did, and vice-versa, and so we’d run out of breath repetitively—basically falling to the floor on top of each other. We looked like a goofy, touchy couple out on a double date, but we were completely ignoring the other couple. Sarah found our loopy mingling to be quite entertaining, as did Mitch. They both had intimate knowledge the other didn’t. The night eventually wound down and the snoozy (actual)couple left for home via car service. I definitely wasn’t sober enough to drive, either. Thinking back, I suddenly remember sharing a private moment with Harry around that time. Nothing R-rated. Not even PG-13, really.

Our friends had already parted ways, leaving the two of us drunk and cozy at a corner-table in the back of the bar. He ordered us some ice water, of which I’d gratefully accepted. I was mid-gulp when I felt his fingers tuck a section of my hair behind my ear. In hindsight, that was a cheesy, 90’s romcom thing for him to do. However, it felt so gentle and sweet in the moment, I didn’t care. My eyes blinked up at him, my mouth occupied with chilled fluids, and he smiled dreamily down at me. Swallowing and setting my glass down, a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“You’re even prettier in person, y’know.” Harry drawled. More light laughter came out of me before I returned the compliment. “Mmm, you too, Mr. Styles.” His cheeks dimpled and he shook his head at me. “Tha’s cute, but I’m serious.”

I raised my eyebrows at his accusation. “So am I.” My arms folded over my chest in playful defiance. We sat there for a few beats, deeply drinking each other in as if the other person was the bartender’s last call. Harry broke the trance first. “Need t’get ya home, love.” His hand moved to cover mine on the tabletop. Out of instinct, my glassy eyes followed his touch. He was cold, clammy even, yet I could feel my skin flush red-hot in retaliation.

Harry seemed hardly intoxicated or loopy anymore. He had more to drink than me, for sure. However, I had to hold onto him for stability in order to exit the building. Leaving the bar that night gave me the same satisfaction as going home after an amazing first date. I hadn’t met a guy so instantly enamored by my presence since high school…back when I was a size 8! As a size 16 in my early twenties, I’d gotten used to men talking over me and looking right through me. There was no reason for them to treat me that way. I’d always been told that I’m the nicest person in the world—that I was beautiful and hilarious and passionate and brilliant. None of that mattered, though. I was either met with pure indifference or blatant, manipulative narcissism from the opposite sex. But Harry was the diamond in the rough. He treated me better than just decently. He made me feel like a person deserving of much more than the bare minimum—more than just mere kindness—worth love, attention, effort, adoration, and affection. I hadn’t felt that in a long time…if ever.

And don’t worry, neither of us drove home. Harry ordered an Uber for me and rode along so that he could make sure I got inside my parents’ house safely—escorting me to the door like a proper gentleman would. I’d only really experienced that kind of ‘chivalry’ once or twice before. Not that every guy I’ve dated was a complete asshole to me, but the bare minimum was certainly a chore for some…It was refreshing to be treated so delicately—by someone who hardly knew me, to boot.

That entire first impression…it was a solid confirmation for me.

I liked Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and I have grown to be quite friendly with one another since we first met a little over a year ago. However, we sure as hell didn’t start out that way—yeah, the amazing time at the bar was a false first impression. Sure, Harry would still have his moments where he was genuinely caring and gentle. But for the most part, his demeanor changed into that of an antagonistic older brother. So, you could say the initial acquaintanceship was tense.

For starters, we had that 5 year age-gap; and so Harry used that as a pass to be an arrogant, cynical, pretentious know-it-all. It was like he always needed to be the one and only expert on everything. And I’m certain he’s always gotten off on every rare instance where I’ve shown to be naive. Yelling-matches would occur every so often for months as both of us are sensitive hot-heads. We ended that streak of arguing when Harry’s big mouth had inevitably put me in tears. I think it was around the 6-month mark (of living together) when it happened. What’s silly is how his comment didn’t even deserve my dramatics, really. I’d already been in a piss-poor mood that night, and I’m just a crybaby in general. So you betcha any joke about me and my body, no matter how innocent the intentions behind it, throws just enough of a punch to unleash the hysterics.

I was in our living room watching YouTube when Harry came home from work. The video on the TV had pulled a full-blown guffaw out of me a minute or so before the door opened—which felt like a wave of relief after a long, miserable day at my job. I typically would spend more of my time enclosed in my bedroom, but I guess I just felt like switching things up that day. Besides, Harry acted as if he owned the whole goddamn place. The house was 50% mine, too (per our rental agreement). I had every right to venture away from my compact sleeping quarters for the evening. There was still a high probability that Harry would be a grump about it.

Fucking whatever.

If I wanted to enjoy our shared entertainment room, then I was gonna fucking enjoy it! My confidence was torn out from underneath me the moment that prick made his entrance. The door swung open, and there he was—white-collared, spotless, and as smug as ever. He released a generous sigh, an attempt at drawing my attention, but I refused to acknowledge his homecoming. What? Did he want a freaking ‘welcome home, honey’ from me or something?! Being a part of Harry’s House’s Greeting Committee wasn’t in the fine print of our lease. Plus, the last time I kindly acknowledged him after work, he brutally mocked me.

[“Hi!!!” I exclaimed with a sweet smile.

He raised an eyebrow as he slipped his shoes off. “Uh, hello.”

I was in the middle of stowing the last of the groceries away. I’d been in a pretty good mood that afternoon. I don’t know why or what made me so excited for Harry to come home, but I just was. Typically, I wouldn’t be keen on asking him to talk about his day. But, again, I was just feeling good. I didn’t understand why that deserved such an adverse response from the man.

“How was your day?! Oh yeah, you had that big meeting, or whatever, right?”

“Mhmm.” He muttered, unbuttoning the wrist cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his shoulders.

I grinned brightly at him and opened the fridge. The way Harry looked with his stuffy work clothes always made me melt. He kept his tattoos well-hidden, but simply pulling his sleeves back would reveal the art…and that was something he’d do as soon as he got home. The action was so small and innocent, but witnessing it so closely—whilst simultaneously inhaling the faint notes of his expensive cologne—sent rushes of heat down to my core. He had no idea how hot he was when he did that…actually, he probably knew exactly how hot he was…little shit…

“So…Did your presentation go ok?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘went fine. It was fine...glad to be home, though.” Harry sighed, but I saw him fighting a smile once I’d turned around to face him.

“Oh? Just fine?” Judging by his subtle cheekiness, I had thought he had some news to tell me. It just seemed that way to me, at least. Or maybe that he was hiding something, or about to make a joke. My latter suspicion was quickly confirmed as true.

“I dunno…It went well, I guess…couldn’t wait to get home...” Why was he smirking at me?

I giggled and continued the banter.

“What are you being so modest about? I’m sure the reps at Gucci fell in love with the designs.”

Harry slipped onto one of the bar stools and watched me unpack the remainder of paper bags from behind the kitchen island. He leaned back against the seat’s backing with his arms folded and resting comfortably atop his abdomen. After making silent eye contact for a moment, I resorted to laughing lightheartedly and raising my eyebrows at the man.

“Eh?”

Harry just smirked.

I’d begun to fold up the empty paper bags. My cheeks were definitely blushed pink, reacting sheepishly to his stare. To conceal my submissive appearance, I reached up—pushing up onto my tiptoes—to stack the paper bags above the refrigerator. It didn’t matter that my back was facing him. I could still feel his eyes following my every move. Why did he have to intimidate me so much?

“Fine, be that way. Just so you know, I bought cookies for us, but now I'm not gonna share!”

“Oh really?” He hummed, leaning up to rest his forearms on the counter.

Scoffing, I stepped forward to face him from the other side of the island and grabbed onto the edge of the countertop. My upper half was angled towards him so that I could talk more directly to him.

“Really, really.” I purred, not realizing my voice would sound so erotic. Instead of backtracking, I just ran with it. Harry’s pupils expanded much like a feline’s when they’re hunting their prey.

But he just sat there smirking at me. My pleasant mood wasn’t to be ruined by his teasing. I wasn’t going to allow it. I could play, too, Styles.

“What kind of cookies did you get us, hm?” His low, British drawl sent chills down my back.

“Oreos.” I didn’t sink into that ‘subspace’ as they call it. Not yet.

Harry basically moaned a hum out in approval. I swallowed, still combating my natural instinct to surrender like a desperate little puppy. This was getting more difficult.

“You know those are my favorite, don’t you?”

I blinked. “Uh huh.”

“I bet you got’em just f’me…you weren’t gettin’ them for us...” He paused for a moment. “…were you, sweet girl?”

“I…maybe…” I squeaked, earning Harry’s immediate amusement.

“I’m gonna take a guess at something real quick, a‘right, doll?”

“Ok…” He was so close to me. I was just thankful I’d been chewing gum at the time…

“Are you ovulating right now? Is that why you’re being so doting and domestic?”

My face fell.

“Wha—Excuse me?!” I stepped back from the counter and put my hands on my hips. What kind of guessing game was that?! Who even asks that?!

In the most annoying way, Harry stood up from his stool and copied my stance. He was using far too much sass and flamboyance to be accurate, though. I did not look like that…

“Oh, don’t you give me that look, sweetheart.” Harry chuckled, walking over to me. He then reached his long index finger up to *boop* the tip of my nose. I huffed in response. The breaking point was nearing closer with every word he’d spoken. But submission was not an option.

I knew that he knew. He had to have known. He must have caught onto my shyness, saw how much he made me blush, sensed how bratty I’d become whenever he teased me. I was putty in his hands.

“Awe, You’re cute…” He mumbled under his breath. His hand rose to my shoulder and he twirled a lock of my hair around his finger.

I was furious. It was obvious he was just trying to rile me up. That’s all this was…reaction bait.

“Harry…—”

“—I’m just sayin’, one might think you were trying to sweet talk me into letting you milk me dry and put a baby in ya. I’m sure you’re just as fertile as you look, aren’t you, babe?” He grinned and drummed his rings back against the marble counter, now leaning back all cockily.

There it was again—that smug little smirk on his stupid, perfect, dimpled face. What did he mean by, “as fertile as I look?!” God, a woman can’t be mean or nice without a man having some bullshit to say about it. Whatever. I told myself at that moment that the next man who dared to comment on my missing smile would be a dead one.

I gave him a dirty look and hustled my ass up the stairs to my room. Thankfully, I was finished putting all the groceries away. There was no reason for me to stick around playing this silly game with Harry. As I was making my way up, he called out to me, “I may have a high sperm count, but I’m not quite ready to be a daddy, yet, love!”

“Shut up!” I groaned and slammed my door shut. I think I could still hear him snickering to himself downstairs. Such a dick. Also, how the hell did he know I was ovulating..?! Ugh!

Oh, and Harry wasn’t even finished with his jokes yet, because he’d leapt up the steps in long strides and knocked on my door…just 5 minutes later. I opened it, having then changed into a crop top and pajama shorts in the meantime. Not only was my round ass falling out of the shorts, but my heavy, unsupported tits were also threatening to peak out from the bottom hem of my shirt.

Typically, I wouldn’t want to be caught dead wearing that kind of getup in front of anyone. However, I thought I looked deliciously thick and absolutely, downright-fuckable that night. Of course I’d been aware of this, as well. And so I used my innate feminine sexuality to my advantage. As soon as I opened the door, Harry’s eyes (unsurprisingly) flickered back and forth between my chest and my face. How classy… I took the liberty of folding my arms together in front of me to feign some modesty.

Looking back on it now, I definitely watched a similar scene in porn...

He just stood there at my door, all of a sudden at a loss for words. I wish that silence would have lasted longer. It took only a few seconds before he was flashing me his signature dimpled smirk again. He then mirrored my body language and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He teased, plucking at the hem of the shirt sleeve that hung loosely past my shoulder.

My back straightened up, an attempt at asserting a smidge of self-confidence amidst my pink cheeks and pounding pulse.

“What do you want, Harry?” I tried to act annoyed, but I think I sounded too timid…and to be honest, the idea of Harry filling me up with his cum had caused my panties to dampen significantly. They were surely leaking through my shorts, but fortunately my thighs were meaty enough to hide it.

“Hmm…No bra? Tha’s interesting…” I could tell he lowered his canter when he said that, but I still heard him.

“Gross, you pervert.” I spat, squeezing my arms closer against my chest.

“Ay, hold on, little miss sunshine. What’s with the bratty attitude, huh?”

“Shut up, mister big loads. Go impregnate a sock.” My expressive irritability only further inflated his ego.

“Hmm, I’ve gotta say, tha’s tempting, but…I wouldn’t wanna make you jealous.” I wanted to scream.

“Ugh! Get out of my room!” I pushed at the door, but Harry held it open with his hand—and there was no way I could win against him in that impossible match of strength.

“First of all, I’m not in your room.”

I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing.

“Second,” he held his finger up. “Would you like f’me to order us some dinner?”

I huffed. “What I’d like is for you to leave.”

He shook his head and tsk’d in response. “Mm-mm, tha’s not what I asked.”

My teeth clenched at his audacious snark.

“I don’t care, Harry.”

His rings then tapped awkwardly against the smooth wood.

“Ah…” he sighed with his head bowed. “…Look, I’m sorry. I was just tryin’ to mess with you...I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed…”

Even though I couldn’t stand him, I’d begun to feel my heart soften at his puppy-eyed expression. Why did he have to be so irritating and so adorable at the same time?! Just choose one!

Hmph…whatever.

“…Well, I know you’re hungry…I’ll pay…?”

I sighed and chewed at my lip. I was starving…

His boyish apology was reluctantly accepted, but I made a point out of picking something expensive. He could afford it.

We ate and watched a movie on the couch together. To my surprise, there were no more stupid comments coming out of his mouth for the rest of the evening. Impressive. I noticed his eyes turned basically black. It wasnt like we had all the lights off; plus, it was August—the sun didn’t set completely until 9pm. I felt those pupils following me.

It was apparent that Harry found me attractive. That night he certainly did. Or maybe he was just high? Either way, after he’d pointed out my lack of undergarments, I decided to brush him off as simply horny. At least that was the best explanation I could come up with for all the sneaky eye-fucking. There was no way I could’ve convinced myself he was actually giving me that kind of attention consciously…

After we’d finished eating, he went out of his way to fetch me a blanket(our good one, no less) and then proceeded to drape it around my back and shoulders, tucking me in as if he’d done it a million times before. Look who’s the doting one now, Styles!

I also remember how he basically bolted for the bathroom and took a shower as the film wrapped up with the end credits…Ok, ok…so, I may have purposefully bent over in those shorts while cleaning up the coffee table…but surely he just had a long day and was desperate for a hot shower…Surely.]

It’s safe to say that I toned down the ‘domestic’ part of me from that point on. Even though Harry just likes to get my goat, I still wanted to make it more difficult for him to have a reason to tease me. The night when our door to the garage swung open, his voice echoed through the house with such vigor that it sent yucky chills down my spine. Oh, the irony...

“Well, shit—Mitch wasn’t kiddin’ ‘bout y’laugh being loud as’ell! ‘Could hear ya from the driveway!”

This man survived off of my agitation, I swear. I shifted in my seat to face him and my eyes narrowed at the sight of his stupid, cocky face. I’ve always felt embarrassed about my somewhat-loud, slightly obnoxious laugh—and the thought that it’s been a main point of discussion between Harry and Mitch (and who knows who else) stung even worse.

It’s fine. Don’t listen to him. Don’t react. Just…breathe…

“Hi, Harry.” My intonation was as unimpressed as I could make it sound. He of course snorted at my brattiness, slipping his shoes off and tossing his wallet and keys onto the kitchen counter before taking long-legged strides in my direction.

“Good evening, doll.”

I huffed and waved my hand half-assedly. Something that drove me mad was how he was fiercely antagonistic towards me, and he insisted upon giving me little pet names. I knew he was just teasing me. That’s why I made sure to always swallow my bashful giggles whenever he said them. My subby-ness was not to be easily accessible anymore.

“So, what’s this, hm? Grown tired of hiding from me all the time?” He casually gestured to me with his flat, open palm.

I exhaled through my nose in aggravation as he plopped abruptly down onto the couch—his arm propped up next to him and one leg resting on the opposite knee. His draping arm was stretched out towards me. I refused to take part in Harry’s game at that time, and so I returned his question with silence. But it didn’t even matter because he could tell I was holding my anger in.

“Oh, I get it. It’s some sort of opposite day or summat.”

He stretched his fingers closer to where my head was resting on the back of the couch. They wrapped themselves around a smooth lock of my hair and twirled it continuously. This man thought it was absolutely hilarious to get even the faintest reaction out of me. Harry was generally the ‘touchy’ type of person when he’s around those he’s comfortable with. It made me feel special whenever he went out of his way to be affectionate towards me because…well, I had a crush on him for a while. And so, at first, I naively understood those soft touches as hints for his deeper feelings. At least that’s how I perceived things privately. But the more time I’d spent living with him, the more I had to come to terms with the fact that he was out of my league, and that he probably only viewed me as a little sister. My mind convinced me that Harry just enjoyed taking advantage of my innate submissiveness. He would never be attracted to someone like me. In order to protect my heart from the shattering effects of rejection, I chose to play into the little sister dynamic and behave as though Harry Styles was just a stupid fucking boy, and nothing more.

My behavior shift from the bashful sweetheart to the indifferent recluse somehow drew him closer to me anyway. I was so fucking pissed. I was sick of his games! Most of all, I hated Harry Styles. I hated him, and I hated his wandering hands, and his cockiness, and his giant ego.

My hair is not a toy, and I am not a doll reserved for Harry’s cruel amusement. And yet I kept living with all these antics because I…

…Because I liked his attention…honestly, I loved his attention. I’ll admit it! There was no way he could ever find that out, though!

That night when he (once again) twisted a piece of my hair around his long fingers, I pretended it didn’t make my heart flutter. My face stayed emotionless. It had truly been an award-winning performance by yours truly. To an outsider, this scene would’ve looked as if Harry and I were a bickering couple. They’d probably assume I was just a crabby girlfriend punishing her partner with the silent treatment. To be honest, that’s what it felt like for a second before I caught myself leaning into his gentle contact. I smacked his hand away from my hair and he just smiled at me.

Ugh!

He smiled at me, and then he poked my cheek with his index finger. I swear to God, my skin was on fire.

“So what’s next on the opposite day schedule? ‘You gonna go for a run?” Harry snickered and let out an amused sigh. “That would be the shock of the century, wouldn’t it?!”

He kept laughing at his juvenile dig. I let out a weak scoff, unable to swallow my pride that time. The air in the room was stale. Harry faced the television screen and sunk further back into the cushions. I sat there in mopey silence.

So I live a sedentary lifestyle, so what? And yes, I’m overweight—I’ve been struggling with my body my entire life, so there’s no need for anyone to give me a reminder. Regardless of the obvious and regardless of Harry’s ‘opposite day’ joke, I wasn’t in the right mindset to just brush it off…not that night. Starting a fight wasn’t the route I wanted to take either. I was exhausted. A retreat into solitude felt like my best option.

But, God…why did he have to fucking say that?

My bottom lip quivered and I was unable to blink back the tears for a moment longer. Every last ounce of patience I had left was dried up at this point. My long hair shielded my face whilst I bowed and dabbed my dripping eyelashes with my sleeves. Noticing the lack of verbal retort from me, Harry turned his head back in my direction. His breath hitched in his throat and his sage irises washed over to stormy blue.

“Oh, shit…” he muttered.

I sniffled and got up from the couch, making a beeline for the privacy of my bedroom. He never meant to make me cry. It was obvious Harry was just poking fun at me, but words can still hurt regardless of the speaker’s intent. It was too late for him to consider that now. Harry quickly jumped in front of me. He leapt into action so fast that I was physically startled back against my bare heels.

“What the fuck, Harry? Move!” I whined frustratedly at the man as he stood there with similarly glossy eyes.

Then he reached out and held my shoulders in his strong hands. His thumbs did that rubbing thing that most people only do when comforting their loved ones. Back then, I wished so badly that the simple gesture hadn’t sent such soothing goosebumps down my arms. It was so infuriating how this man held that kind of power over me.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, love. Please don’t cry. I—”

I gritted my teeth at his pity.

“—why? Are my big, fat tears too loud?! Or are you worried I’m so huge that I’ll get stuck, and my arms and legs will burst out of the fucking house?!”

Harry’s brows furrowed at my imagery. “Uh, wait—are you trying to reference…Alice in Wonderland—”

“—ALSO! Last time I checked, YOU were the one who ate all the cookies last night—YOU and your RABBIT TEETH fucking decimated my Oreos! So why don’t you go for a fucking run!”

Harry seemed amused with that one. His stupid dimples popped out at me and I was fed up.

“Get out of my way!”

I pushed against his chest, but he stood firmly on the carpet in front of the stairs. I remember fighting my urge to stomp my feet like a toddler. He wasn’t letting me retreat. He wouldn’t get out of my fucking FACE!

“I know you want to yell at me, so do it.”

“No, I don’t want to yell at you! I want you to move so I can go to my room!”

“Cmon, love. Talk to me…Give me all y’got. I know you have it in ya.”

“MOVE!”

Then he laughed. Why? Because I actually stomped my fucking foot—just like how I’d previously forbade myself to. And I’m sure the performance was quite entertaining for him.

“Don’t you throw a tantrum on me, sweet girl. Use your words!”

“You’re such a fucking smartass.”

“Oi, don’t talk about my ass like that! I’ll have you know, it’s quite dumb!” He grinned.

Un-fucking-believable. I can’t believe that got me to crack a smile. Harry instantly mirrored my surrendering, his hands drifting down from my shoulders to my elbows. My arms were crossed over my chest, but he wiggled them loose.

“YES! There’s that pretty smile…”

I huffed and groaned, feeling like a total child.

“…Don’t you be teasing me for my teeth—Y’look like a bunny just like me, babe.”

I giggled and playfully shoved his chest. “I do not!”

“Uh-huh! You definitely do!”

My hand rose up to cover my mouth and Harry just laughed at me. Lowering himself closer to my height, he *booped* my nose which caused me to scrunch it up in response.

“Aww, you are just a lil’ bunny, aren’t you?”

I squirmed and whined, annoyed as all hell with his patronizing.

“Don’t you start stomping your feet again, sweet Bunny. You’re better than that!”

I couldn’t help myself from just letting my guard all the way down at that moment. Inhaling deeply, I circled my arms around Harry’s middle and buried my face against his chest.

“Sorry…I just want us to get along, H.” My small voice was muffled against his shirt.

Harry frowned and wrapped his arms around me, reciprocating my surrendering embrace. My ear was pressed against his chest. There was a strong beat beyond his hard surface–my head pulsed with each fierce thump. That was the closest we’d ever been to each other. One of his hands slid up to my hair and combed through it.

“I do, too…I’m sorry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a house was less expensive for both of us 20-somethings, and rent has thankfully stayed reasonable and affordable since we two moved in a couple of years ago. I’m happy in my living space with my roommate. It’s a platonic situation between me and Harry—regardless of what family and friends want to believe. And I doubt it will ever venture beyond friendship any time soon. It can’t. Things are perfect right now…exactly the way they are. I keep my little fantasies to myself within the privacy of my bedroom. Harry can never know.

I’ve been single for a while. It’s possible that my holes are the tightest they’ve ever been, and that it might feel like I’m losing my virginity again whenever I do get some dick. So what, sometimes I think about what would happen if I just accidentally sent a racy photo to Harry…

…Whether he’d keep it and pretend he never saw it (as a way to be gentlemanly)…if he’d be disgusted and laugh at my body…or if he’d turn feral like I hope he would, bursting through my bedroom door and finally taking all that I’ve unconsciously reserved for him…

Don’t fret, my pet — smut will come in part 2 😈

Writer’s Notes: Hi, everyone🥰 Phew…well, there she is! Part 1! Thought I’d celebrate my birthday today by posting my first H piece💕 I’ll start off by saying…I’m kind of an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to my writing…so I won’t be super speedy when posting updates on my work, as I really want to be certain that I’m posting exactly what I want you to read. I know that other content creators on here are excellent at keeping a quick, reliable posting schedule—and I will be trying my best to do the same(I hope to make it in the same ballpark as them, at least). However, please be patient with me💕🙏🏻 💕 I have devoted a lot of time, love, and creativity into my work just so that I can share it online with strangers for free. I greatly appreciate any and all support, suggestions, criticism, questions, etc., so please don’t hesitate to comment or send me messages/asks. (Anons are welcome!) I’ve been working on this piece for a while now and I’d really like to get your feedback on it. If you would like to be tagged in future updates/parts, please let me know!!!👏🏻💗👏🏻🩷👏🏻💖 👏🏻

xoxo ~ Regan 😘💕

@victoria-styles @harrystylessmuttyfics @therealhousewifeofharrystyles

[jesuschristmattyhealy]

you're the only one I want to see

to the anon who suggested this idea: I hope you know it has become a permanent installment of my before-bed-fantasy-dream-time. this is very much inspired by the Andrew/Amelia Golden Globe's interview, hence the title. thanks to @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars for the reader's interview theme I appreciate you bestie <33 hope you all enjoy comments and feedback is always appreciated. ilysm

////

“I think you’re being summoned.” 

“Am I?” 

You watch in professional disbelief as Harry Styles turns in profile to find that, yes, his publicist is waving him onto the next interview. 

“Oh, yeah,” he pouts, “So sad, I was having such a good time chatting.” 

“Don’t worry,” you reply with an air of chumminess you can’t quite believe is coming across as effortless, “We’ll find a time soon, darling, I promise.” 

“They can’t keep us apart, I won’t let them,” he declares, “Keep up the good work.” 

“I’ll certainly try!” You call after his retreating back. As soon as he’s out of ear and eye shot you double over, wheezing to the camera man, “I can’t believe I just had a full conversation with him.” 

It’s the 2023 Britt Awards and British GQ has hired you as a representative for the red carpet, after your web series gained popularity and got you noticed by large publications across Europe and America. In a world where every interview has to have a schtick, yours is called “Two Drink Minimum,” a show where you invite celebrities out for at least two drinks and ask them increasingly more ridiculous questions as the night progresses. So far, you’ve hosted names such as Pedro Pascal, Bryce Dallas Howard and Jonathon Van Ness and in the new year, it seems like everyone’s publicist is in your inbox asking for a feature. Your career has led you to a lot of “pinch me” moments, but watching Harry Styles’ ever-sequined back sauntering away from you calls for a punch square in the face. 

Suddenly, a male voice pulls you from your star-struck stupor. 

“I was hoping you’d be here.” 

You start, spinning around to come face to face with the man who decorated both your high school bedroom and college dorm room, and your phone lockscreen for as long as you can remember having one. Matty Healy, wearing a dark green suit and an amused smile.

You press a hand to your chest, “You scared me-” 

Instinctively, he reaches for your forearm, “-oh no, I didn’t mean to scare you-” 

You grip the sleeve of his suit, hardly believing his real skin and bone is beneath it, “-you just materialized out of nowhere-” 

“-I was just so excited to see you, I couldn’t help myself.” He giggles — really giggles. 

You can feel your face heating up in spite of yourself, “Wha- excited to see me? Matty Healy please-” 

“No, really, ask the boys I’ve been dying to meet you.” 

The knowledge that the men of the 1975 have even mentioned your name, let alone had full conversations about you, is almost too much to handle. You search for a word, anything really, that might be appropriate. Your brain feels like hot pea soup. 

“And where is your… gang this evening?” 

His brow furrows, you immediately regret saying anything. Staring at him might’ve even been better. 

His lips turn up at the end, “Gang?-” 

You’re already explaining yourself, “I don’t know why I said that you’re-” 

He’s smiling full on now, like he knows something you don’t,“Yeah, there’s a name for what we are, love, it’s a-”

“- A band, I’m sorry it’s just that I’ve been talking to Harry Styles and I’ve lost all cognitive ability,” you joke, gesturing wildly at your forehead.

He rolls his eyes, the smile becomes a smirk, “Oh that’s it, is it, you’re still thinking about him? Should I leave, should I go find him for you?” He points his thumb behind him, already turning to go. 

You reach for his arm again, giggling at his sarcasm, “No, no, Matty that’s not what I meant-” 

“- No it’s alright, I don’t want to stand in the way of true love.” He waves one hand at you, the other loosely holds your finger tips.

“No, honestly what it is is that I’m actually getting really nervous around you but I was embarrassed so I used Harry as a cover,” Truer words had never been spoken. 

He’s nodding, a single strand of hair tickling his eyebrows,“Oh, there’s the backpedal, no it’s alright the damage is done, I see where I stand. Just England’s second best male pop star, that’s alright.” 

You whistle through your teeth, donning a jokingly skeptical look,“I don’t know, I feel like Ed Sheeran might have that title.” 

His mouth actually falls open at that,“Ed Shee- right I’m leaving, you’ve slandered me for the last time-” 

You’re laughing now, the nerves have gone. It feels like you’ve been old friends forever,“No! Matty, don’t give up on us-” 

He shakes his head, looking away from you into the crowd, “-after I was so kind and complimentary to you-” 

“- you’re right I’m the worst, I’m awful-” 

“-telling you how excited I was to see you, practically baring my soul-” 

“- please come back, let’s talk about this!” 

“Ok, fine you’ve convinced me.” He circles back to you, clasping his hands in front of him. His eyes make a trail from your eyes to your mouth to your necklace back to your eyes. If you weren’t blushing before you certainly are now. 

You take a deep breath, “Ok, now you were telling me where your band is.” 

“Yeah, they’re queueing at the Glam Bot.” 

“Oh, is there a line?” 

“Yeah, it’s ages long too, I couldn’t stand there any longer. George is gonna text me when we’re up.” 

“Do you have your pose planned?” You ask. 

“No, and I’ll tell you what we should probably figure that out because that thing is proper intimidating.” 

“Yeah, it comes at you awfully fast doesn’t it?”  

“Yes! It’s so fast, I get nervous just watching it.” 

“Matty Healy? Afraid of a robot?” 

He frowns with his whole face, leaning backwards,“No, no, I’m not. I’m a big guy, I don’t get scared-” 

You roll your eyes, laughing through your nose,“That’s right I forgot, forgive me.” 

“-It’s fine, just try to remember next time,” He winks at you, just barely so much so you think you might have imagined it, “No, I’m mostly just scared that I’ll blink or something stupid.” 

You make a noise of agreement, “Do you want to practice not blinking?” 

He bites his lip in thought,“How would we do that, exactly?” 

“Easy, we’ll just have a staring contest.” 

“Oh yeah, okay .” 

You square off, each of you closing your eyes in preparation. 

“Ok,” you say, “Counting us down. Three, two, one, go.” 

You open your eyes and are immediately met with his stare, dark amber, autumn leaves and the forest at sunrise, maple and mahogany. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s smirking at you again, as if he can read your thoughts. You try to think about neutral things, dogs, going to the grocery store tomorrow, how much your feet hurt right now, just in case he can. 

“My eyes hurt already,” You whisper. 

He doesn’t say anything, just hums something under his breath. It all feels strangely intimate, all these people in the room and he’s staring at you like you’re the first person he’s ever seen in his life. An idea washes over you suddenly. He’s rocking back and forth slightly on his heels. Just as he moves forward, you lift your hand and snap your fingers in front of his nose. He blinks immediately. 

“Ha! You blinked!” 

“That’s cheating!” He’s indignant, his Northern accent evident. 

“It’s not cheating, I’m just preparing you!” You laugh as he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. 

“This is so unfair,” he rubs his dry eyes with the heel of his palm. 

You pout sarcastically at him. “I’m so sorry, I hope someday you can forgive me.” 

“It might take a while,” He wrinkles his nose at you, then is distracted by his phone lighting up i his pocket, “Oh, George is demanding I come back now.” 

Your stomach falls slightly, “Yes, go back to your-” 

“Gang?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“-exactly.”

He touches your arm again, the skin tingles, “So sorry to leave you, I feel like that was probably the most worthless interview you’ve done all night-” 

You laugh. 

“Not like that it was bad, I just feel like I didn’t give you anything whatsoever.” 

You place your hand over your heart, “Don’t worry, it was very impactful to me.” 

“Ok, well that’s all that matters,” He’s inching away, lingering slightly, “Maybe we uh… maybe we can have a redo on your show.” 

You hum agreement, “Now there’s an idea, Healy.” 

“I have good ones sometimes.” He shrugs, thumbs in his pockets. 

“I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” You say, and before you can stop yourself, shoot him a pair of finger guns. 

He’s almost turned away, but does a double take, laughing, “Did you just finger gun me?” 

“Pretend that didn’t happen.” 

“Sure. I’ll see you in there.” 

He walks away, giggling still, looking over his shoulder at you. You retreat to the bathroom to call your roommate in hysterics. 

[findingnemosworld]

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬.

( 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 )

( 𝐎𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟?? 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟?? 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 × 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞?? 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 )

___

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 𝐱 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

[ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 ]

( had to use this gif )

Rúben Dias did not like to talk.

Everyone that knew him, knew that he was a man of few words; he liked to work in silence, the less he spoke to the clients that hire him, the easier it would be for him to get the job done and move on to the next one, the rules he had set were simple and seemed to work for him as most - if not all of his clients were aware of how efficient he was in ensuring their safety above all while maintaining a high level of professionalism.

The only times you'd see a glimpse of him, the real him. Is when he's around his family and friends and even then; he doesn't like to be vulnerable, he views vulnerability as a liability; preferring to be cold, distant and detached - it's easier for him and easier for those that approach him, yet he had no idea of the storm that was lying ahead, a storm of sunshine, softness and the kind of joy that he faintly remembers experiencing as a child.

The storm that is international pop star, Yeliana Ladrón.

Rúben's perception of pop stars, actresses or anyone from the entertainment industry was that they're loud, talkative and spoilt hence why he had wanted to refuse the task almost immediately until his co-worker and good friend, John Stones advised him not to.

" Why not? " Rúben questions, " She's probably a spoilt princess who will spend the entire day talking my ear off with stupid and trivial matters "

" I worked with her once " John explains, " and I can assure you mate, she's far from the other ones, a sweetheart, grounded and humble too " he laughs, " she literally goes out of her way to ensure everyone around her is comfortable, plus she pays generously so if you take it from me, don't say no "

Despite his hesitance, Rúben ends up accepting which lead him to this current moment, he was lead by Yeliana's assistant inside the mansion, " Miss Ladrón is currently busy, so if you'll follow me I can show you where you'll be staying "

Before Rúben could respond, a tanned and petite brunette appears from the kitchen; dressed in a baby blue summer dress which stopped just below her ankles, her hair was tied up into a ponytail and her face, whilst bare of makeup was rather unique, doe eyes that shone as she smiled brightly, her assistant smiles. " Ah, there she is. Yeli, this is Rúben Dias, he was sent by the agency "

" It's nice to meet you " Yeliana extends her hand, expecting him to shake only for him to acknowledge her with nod which made her brows furrow in confusion, " you don't like physical contact, got it? "

" I was on my way to show him his bed room " Her assistant states.

" It's fine Renata, you can go home! the house is secured so nothing should happen. I'll show Rúben around " Yeliana smiles.

" Ok then! it was nice meeting you Mister Dias, and I'll see you later Yeli "

Rúben watches the woman whom he now knows her name walk out of the house before he turns to Yeliana, " Where's the room? " He asks, in a curt tone.

Yeliana ignores his tone, still maintaining the same smile. " Follow me then "

Rúben quietly walks behind her to the ends of the house where the rooms were, " You'll be staying here " he hears her say as she unlocks the door to the neatly furnished bedroom, " there's an en-suite bathroom, everything you need is in there and if there's anything missing you can let me know "

" Are your fences high? " Rúben asks, ignoring the last phrase.

" Yes, and they're secured " Yeliana nods.

" Are there security cameras installed? " Rúben asks.

" Yes " Yeliana nods.

" Locks? "

" Yes "

Rúben was about to ask again, however Yeliana rolls her eyes. " My house is fully secure, don't worry! I didn't want to burden anyone but my father insisted " she mutters.

Rúben was silent, before curiosity got the best of him causing him to ask. " What happened exactly? I was only informed of a supposed threat "

Yeliana visibly stiffened, " Yes "

" What is the threat? " Rúben asks, " If you don't mind me asking "

" My ex boyfriend " Yeliana mutters before mustering up the same smile he had seen earlier. " Are you hungry? "

Rúben shakes his head, " I'll be down in a minute however "

" Please " Yeliana said, " I don't like eating alone "

Rúben grows silent before nodding, " Alright "

__

They sit down in the dining room, Rúben maintained a safe distance away from her; Yeliana took the moment to study him, he was broad, well built, with features that reminded her of all the social media videos she sees of models people use as images of fictional characters, and when he looks up from his plate, she looks away and hopes he didn't notice her. " So, how long have you been working in the agency "

" Nearly four years " Rúben answers in the same curt tone.

" Oh, so you must know John " Yeliana deduces.

" Yes, I do " Rúben mutters.

Yeliana chews on her bottom lip, " You don't like to talk much huh? "

" I find it easier this way, to not be attached and ensure that I do my work at the highest level, besides I'm not here to befriend you, I'm here to protect you " Rúben responds, " So, the less we converse, the better "

Yeliana nods before smiling, " I get it, but ... I'm not going to stop "

Rúben's brows furrowed, " Pardon? "

" Listen, it took me a lot to get through John and while I'm sure you think I'm some spoilt singer but I'm not, so I give you my word that once these weeks end, we will be friends " Yeliana said with a smile, she stands up and grabs the dishes to go and wash them.

Rúben watches her from where he was sitting, still confused by her words, he shakes his head before walking up to the kitchen to tell her, " I'm going to look around the house, just to be safe "

" Ok " Yeliana nods with a smile.

_________

The only thing Rúben can think of that could describe the following weeks was one singular word, a rollercoaster -- he noticed just how much Yeliana loved performing, and how beautiful she sounded doing so, he was an avid listener of music yet never bothered to take a minute and truly listen to music until he heard her sing, she seemed to sing from a place of pain and an unexplainable sense of dejection.

One night, he was in the kitchen to grab a glass of water when he heard her voice outside in the balcony, coupled with the strumming of the guitar was enough to lure him out of the kitchen which overlooked the balcony.

" You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard?

You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart

I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't

'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand "

Rúben stood there, allowing the words to sink in - they were charged, quite heavily; and he didn't know what came over him, however he decided to speak. " You sound great "

Yeliana gasps then looks up before smiling, " Thank you, I guess it helps when you have a deplorable ex boyfriend "

Rúben tentatively sat down on the other chair, keeping the same distance he did since the first day. " What did he do? "

" He cheated " Yeliana responds with a sad smile, " I gave him four years of my life, on and off, ups and downs, and I kept my mouth shut while he stuck his cock in everything that moves " she laughs.

" Why would you stay with him? " Rúben asks, " He sounds like an idiot "

" Because I'm a hopeless romantic " Yeliana responds, " When I care about someone, platonically or not! I tend to give my all to that person "

Rúben nods, " Hm "

" Have you ever felt that? " Yeliana asks him.

Rúben raised a brow, before shaking his head. " Emotions are a liability for me, I was engaged once but she never waited for me and since then, I made a promise never to love anyone again "

Despite his curt nod, and standoffish nature. Yeliana could see that behind of all that was someone so hurt, that he believed being like this was the right call. " For what it's worth, she's an idiot too "

And for the first time, in a really long time; Rúben smiled, he truly smiled which made Yeliana smile then say, " You have a beautiful smile "

Rúben's smile instantly vanishes the minute he hears her, this wasn't what he intended on happening; he stands up, " Listen, you need to sleep cause you have an early day tomorrow ok "

Yeliana nods, " Ok " she follows him fifteen minutes later, and was about to head to bed when she said. " Hey Rúben "

" Yes " Rúben responds curtly.

" Goodnight " Yeliana said then closed the door behind her.

Rúben did not respond, he walks into the guest bedroom; placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm his heartbeat. This wasn't what he planned, these past few weeks were a rollercoaster, while he may have been able to keep a neutral face, he couldn't help but admire Yeliana, she was kind, welcoming and indeed true to John's words, humble as when he had searched her up, he came to know that she hailed from humble backgrounds which surprised him given that most singers are blinded by fame, yet she wasn't - and against his own set of rules.

He was beginning to feel drawn to her.

Yeliana couldn't believe it, while she was out of Manchester with Rúben and her team to perform in Paris, her ex boyfriend had tried to break and enter her home; however thankfully he was arrested -- and as she returned, she had cooperated with the police to ensure that he goes away for life over the horrors and pain he had caused her and with his arrest, came the conclusion of Ruben's task, he was set to leave today.

" I really appreciate you staying with me Rúben " Yeliana smiles.

" It's my job " Rúben nods.

Yeliana fiddles with her bracelet, which caught Rúben's attention and caused him to ask, " What is it? "

" Well, since you won't be working to protect me anymore " Yeliana begins with a shaky voice, " And to be fair, I really liked spending time with you even though you hated my chats "

Rúben chuckles, " I did "

" And you disliked how I would hum while I'm making breakfast " Yeliana adds.

" I value silence " Rúben retorts.

" You were basically a grumpy person " Yeliana laughs, " I still think that we can be friends, right? "

Rúben looks away, unsure if he should tell her or not, she was this worldly angelic human being with so much popularity and love, and he was just ... a bodyguard, " I ... " he begins but falls silent again.

" What? " Yeliana tilts her head, with a confused expression.

" Yeliana " Rúben whispers, " These past few weeks have been enlightening and I loved every single moment, which is odd seeing as that I've always hailed myself as being able to keep my emotions buried and yet ... "

" Yet? " Yeliana prompts him to continue.

" Yet I've grown attached to you " Rúben murmurs, " While I initially hated everything you did and how you're always happy, I realized why you did it, and I .. " he licks his lips, " I know that there won't be any chance for us but, I - "

" You .. " Yeliana mutters, subconsciously leaning closer.

" I really like you Yeliana, like really like you " Rúben said.

Yeliana's eyes widened, cheeks turning pink. " You do? " she whispers.

" Yeah " Rúben nods, grabbing her hands. " I just, I want to know if you feel the same way "

Yeliana smiles, her tears brimming at the ends of her eyes; she stands on the tip of her toes to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. " I feel the same way " she giggles.

A big smile spreads across his lips and Rúben pulls Yeliana into an embrace, " You're my sweet melody " he whispers.

[regalbootie]

Binoculars see all chapter 2! (SMUT)

Literally so much smut, but it still kinda has a plot! This is the last chapter unless I can think of some way to continue it! If anyone has suggestions they are so welcome!

Larissa weems x reader

⚠️ warnings: pure raw sexual energy boiiiiiii

Tags

@the-bagel24 @thatkinkylesgirl1 @natashaswife4125

....

Larissa barely had time to remove her hand before her assistant came in “Principle Weems, Professor y/n just called by and wanted to talk to you about something”

Her heart was beating a million miles an hour, nervous sweat starting to build “I’m rather busy right now, I have that meeting remember?”

“Oh they called to say they would be late so you have time!” God she was ready to kill her receptionist, ‘there’s no way she’s coming about spotting you’ she thought taking a deep breath.

“Show them in then” taking a gulp as you entered the room, visions of you moments ago invading her mind and a deep blush spreading across her face and a heat in her core.

“What can I do for you, Professor y/n” trying to be professional as possible after just spying on one of your intimate moments. Your back was to her and she heard a click of the lock of her door.

“did you like the show?” Turning around to finally face her, you had a glint in your eyes that she couldn’t place, she had never seen you like this before.

Slowly approaching her, she quipped “I don’t know what your talking about!” if the blush wasn’t noticeable it certainly was now. You stopped at the front of the desk and placed your hands on them leading forward that a peak of breast could be seen.

Larissa licked her lip as she peeked a look, raising her eyes to see your knowing face. “You forget Larissa, You hired a seer”

Leaning so you could whisper in her ear “I don’t need binoculars to spy on people” Larissa gasped and a hand came to cover her mouth. You had seen her and there was no mistaking what you had said with anything else.

How could she have forgotten. You were a seer, not only would you have visions but also seers can see anywhere within a certain radius and can also sense when being observed.

Most of your kind go into assassin work with having this ability but murder was never quite your thing, being a seer and a teacher had its perks too. Students could never get away with anything with you hence why all your classes were so well behaved.

You yourself had done a little spying recently, in the mornings you would pleasure yourself while seeing over into the silver haired beauty’s office watching her lips and movement imagining her quick hands on the keyboard of her laptop were doing something else. But this morning you had seen something else.

Someone was spying on the spy, you felt the shiver first and used your ability to locate them only to be surprised and pleasantly so.

“I’m so sorry y/n it was very unprofessional, I understand your upset! I... I..” rambling on excuses you cut through them.

“Did you finish?” you purred with a quirk of your brow and Larissa’s mouth dropped.

All she could do was shake her head no, you swayed your hips as you rounded the desk to the woman. Placing hands on the arm rests trapping the woman in place.

Larissa’s heart felt like it was going to explode, biting her lip when your lips were just an inch from her neck. What were you doing, was this really happening.

“I must confess, I’ve been watching you too.” You lay a kiss to her neck leaving a mark of your lipstick.

“you are an extraordinary woman Principle Weems, one that seems to need a bit of a helping hand”

Your hand at that moment snuck up her skirt and fingers met soaked underwear. “you really were so close weren’t you�� you grinned against her neck and could feel her moan traveling up to her mouth against your lips.

Larissa’s head was a mess, your hands delving right where she wanted no needed them. Her moan slipped out and you shivered at the sound. It was better than you had imagined, you began teasing her running a finger behind her underwear and over her core, resting a finger to stop at her entrance.

Your fingers were already soaked, “I watch you every morning as I pleasure myself” Larissa gasped and your fingers entered her dripping core, her gasp turning into a loud moan.

“I imagine my hands are yours as I moan and cry out your name”

Her hands reached for you, pulling you closer, not stopping your slow rhythm “I think about what gets you excited as well, what sounds you make and what I want to know most of all is what you taste like”

You slip your fingers out and suck on them, moaning at the taste. She was divine, you had never tasted something so amazing in your life. Watching you Larissa couldn’t take it anymore and pulled you into her lap, crashing her lips to yours.

She could taste herself off your tongue and whimpered against your lips. Her hands were greedy as she pulled you as close as possible , exploring your body only to rest on your ass, gripping so tight that you thought she may rip the fabric.

You lay a hand on her chest pushing her back, slipping your hand down below again, pushing her skirt up so you had better access.

“watching you pleasure yourself as you watched me, it was the last straw for me darling. I needed to have you and look at us now, I have you a mess by my hand”

Larissa whimpered as you left her lap missing the contact but was not complaining anymore as you knelt between her legs. She struggled to make a intelligible word and every word came out a moaning and whimpering mess.

Spreading her legs you pulled her panties down her legs and stuffed it into your pocket, kissing your was back up, looking into your eyes she watched as you reached her core and with a single swipe of your tongue made her hips buck and back arch.

You wasted no time and delved in licking the length of her core, swirling around her clit and giving it a hard suck. You felt her hand comb into your hair pulling your head closer. Her grip was rough but you liked it rough and continued your worship on her.

“Yes more, please more” she begged, it was the first thing she was able to string together and who were you to deny her. Your fingers found there way back to her core and unlike last time this pace was faster. You couldn’t wait any longer you wanted to see her cum for you.

The room was filled with the sounds of moans and begging along with the sound of your fingers fucking her deliciously. Her walls began to flutter around your fingers and you knew this was it she was so close.

“I’m so close, please please make me cum” you moved faster, your arms began to burn but still you added another finger.

Filling her more broke her, she started to cry out and your free hand covered her mouth. As much as you wanted to hear her, you knew she would not like to be caught having the whole school hear her.

Her back arched more and you continued to fuck her but slowed down so you could drag out the ripples of pleasure. She was left a gasping mess, looking up at her she looked at you her essence dripping down your face and with the grip in your hair crashed your lips to her again.

When air became necessary, breaking the kiss you cleaned your face. Both catching your breaths a knock was at the door, her eyes widened again, you thanked the gods you locked the door when coming in.

You rose from the floor and whispered into her ear once more “I shall see you later” a quick peck to her lips and you sauntered to the door giving yourself a once over that everything was back in place. “oh and you won’t be getting these back” you tucked the panties securely into your pocket with a smirk.

Larissa was left there still a mess, she had came but wanted more she needed more. She quickly tidied herself up and called her receptionist in after she knocked the door again.

“Your late meeting has arrived Principle Weems” a deep blush was on her face as she lay some papers on the desk in front of her.

“Mam, you have uhh.. you have something on your neck” grabbing her pocket mirror from her handbag Larissa gasped at the lipstick mark you had left behind and quickly tried to remove it as her assistant scuttled out of the room.

A text came through and she looked at her phone before starting her meeting, it was from you.

Dinner tonight, I’ll swing by to pick you up ;)

-y/n

[yuurei20]

Following up with this Ask from November, the newest episode of Twisted Radio Station welcomed six people from the development team including D-6th, f4 Samurai and more!

⚠️ Caution: Minor spoilers for events and main story elements that have not been released on EN. ⚠️

Sebek's VA Ishiya Haruki hosted this episode alone, which featured scenario/novelization author Hioki Jun (D-6th), composer/lyricis Ozawa Takumi, designer Osakabe Wataru, background artist Mineda (D-6th), f4 Samurai producer Sato and f4 Samurai animator Shiga.

Composer and lyricist Ozawa Takumi talked about Ferro and Gidel’s theme from the Playfulland event, saying that the whistling was a request from Yana and she had never recorded one or incorporated one into a song before.

She considered hiring a professional, but didn’t want someone who sounded too proper for Ferro. She has created over 200 songs for Twst. She says cannot see the visuals when making music, so she doesn’t know how things are to be assembled until it is released for users.

Designer Osakabe Wataru says he has been a part of the team from the beginning (6 years ago), joining after he heard that they were looking for a designer for the logos, user interface, fonts, etc. He also designed the dorm emblems, the Twst Fes logo and more!

f4 Samurai producer Sato said the game took two years to develop (hence why they have all been working together for 6 years), and he'd wanted to do the Stitch event from before the game even launched. He talked about the unique struggles of developing that event with Stitch.

f4 Samurai animator Shiga said that she joined the game after it launched, and she is now in charge of brushing up the designs they receive from Yana for use in animation. She is particularly fond of the unique animations for Rollo and Ferro.

[bebx]

Honestly, I don't get how people can think that Sylki won't be endgame. Are they forgetting that it's Disney? Or that the writer is a Sylki shipper? Let's be realistic. I agree that it would make zero sense, but this argument is lame, because we know Marvel doesn't care and they're capable of doing that. I wouldn't be surprised if they rushed it and pulled "actually Sylvie has been in love with him the entire time, but she's been hiding it, trying to push him away, because she thinks she doesn't deserve love. But she got over it now." Not to be rude, but I feel like everyone who believes that Sylki won't happen is delusional. I really want Lokius to happen, not Sylki, but even the idea of Sylki not happening is too good to be true. I feel like those leaks are true.

the leaks, which came from several people who claimed to have seen the entire season (and they all said the same thing), were correct about Marvel’s revealing that Mobius has 2 sons in episode five. I know it’s just a “rumor” and there’s no way to know if they really did see the entire season, but tbh I expect Marvel to pull the Sylki endgame in the finale (like how those leaks also said they would do that, getting Loki and Sylvie back together in the last episode).

if I had to guess, I’d say it’d go exactly the way you said, that Sylvie was always in love with Loki all along, but didn’t think she deserved to be loved, hence why she tried to push him away.

I would love to be wrong, but I guess we’re all finding out soon.

also I wouldn’t call anybody delusional for thinking Sylki won’t be endgame or that Lokius will be canon, unless it’s in a joking manner where I’m also making fun of myself. but in all seriousness, I don’t think anybody is ever “delusional” for having opinions about which direction the show will go based on what was actually showed so far in the series. because if this weren’t Disney, I’d say Lokius would absolutely go canon, after all those hints and everything they gave us so far. Sylki parting ways as friends and Lokius going canon as a couple are very highly unlikely, but it’s not entirely impossible either.

as for the writer, if you mean Eric Martin, dude’s a troll (and I say this with respect lol nothing against him, I’m sure he’s a good person with good sense of humor), he’s always liked both Sylki and Lokius posts because he knows fans monitor his likes and I fully believe he’s doing it on purpose just to (playfully) mess with the audience. so I wouldn’t take whatever he liked on social media as a “confirmation” of anything, not even his personal opinion about which ship he thinks is “better”.

*and even if he does personally ship Sylki, it’d still be unfair imo to assume he only made Sylki endgame solely because he personally liked the ship. if he’s a professional writer, I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had other reasons behind his writing choices that had nothing to do with his personal feelings, since after all, the characters belong to Marvel, not him. so his personal preferences shouldn’t be the only factor in deciding which direction things should go. (to be clear, what I mean is: it’s perfectly okay — and it is a good thing — to write a story based on how you, the writer, personally prefer, but I don’t think he’d make Sylki endgame just because he liked it without any other reasons involved when it’s still Marvel’s show and he was hired by Marvel, not his show, if that makes sense.)

[venticuliao]

The concept of family between Alhaitham and Kaveh

The first thing we learn about Sumeru is that knowledge is handled as a resource, that is to say, it serves both as social and economic capital that grants people different status. The more academic merit a person obtains, the more power and opportunities they’re handed.

As such, the conventional idea of personal relationships within the Akademiya is transactional in nature, it’s based on creating bonds with the goal of producing academic (and therefore economic) value. These bonds are traditionally formed when the people involved share the same objectives and are able to cooperate in research, since that’s what their professional pursuits and livelihood depend on.

Academic Divorcees

Alhaitham and Kaveh’s academic collaboration was deemed successful in this sense by the Akademiya, and so their project was rewarded with a property. In academic terms, this bond they shared in the past was considered a successful relationship.

However, Kaveh removed his name from the credits and rejected the house that now belongs to Alhaitham. In this sense, Kaveh rejected societal norms and only acknowledged personal value, independent from the economic value they may produce, which in this case was none. Hence why their… friendship fell apart.

We saw him also follow his own principles in A Parade of Providence when he rejected Sachin's nihilistic research, for instance.

Their core philosophies rely on the concepts of altruism and collectivism (Kaveh) versus individualism (Alhaitham). Kaveh is someone who prioritizes collective well being and is willing to depart from his own gains in order to accomodate others; while Alhaitham is someone who prioritizes individual stability, and he doesn't believe intervening in the status quo serves any purpose unless it produces meaningful change.

For example, in one of their message boards banters, Kaveh empathizes with a group of workers whose experience in their field has been deemed obsolete due to the Akasha and th​​ey can no longer find stable jobs. He offers to put them in contact with someone who is looking to hire, and it seems he plans to aid them with additional money too.

Alhaitham argues that this single act of kindness is useless, since it doesn’t fix the root cause of the issue: ​​even if Kaveh gives up the money now to help this small group of workers, there are many others suffering from the same problem, and after this job they will still struggle to find another. Society evolves and advances in one direction, and attempting to go against its flow is illogical.

In Alhaitham’s understanding, individual gestures won’t change a system where those without power or capital are left adrift, but Kaveh refuses to stand by to watch people suffer. Still, by giving up his own well being he’s condemning himself to perpetual suffering without a significant purpose other than kindness for the sake of kindness.

(Funny enough, it’s Alhaitham himself who plays a central role in overthrowing the corrupt political class of the Akademiya in the archon quest, thus effectively fixing at least some of those root issues)

The Need to Belong

Kaveh’s altruism is genuine, if a little influenced by his compulsive guilt due to believing that he caused his own family’s demise. He grieves the losses he’s suffered and the loneliness left behind to such a degree that he can’t ignore those in need around him. He aims to help others in order to avoid guilt, yet he himself feels burdened by the weight of his reputation and can’t afford to ask the same from others. When he finds himself in debt and alone, there’s only one person who has remained the same, both in ideals and in terms of his relationship to Kaveh.

On the other hand, Alhaitham had a recluse childhood. His parents died before he was old enough to remember them, and his grandmother allowed him to study at home instead of the Akademiya. As a result, he grew up without forming meaningful interpersonal bonds (except Kaveh) and to be self-sufficient and of independent thought.

Family is, after all, a micro-community: a small group of people who depend on each other to survive. And Alhaitham is a character who lives outside the borders of society, independent from his relationship to others. It is precisely for this reason that he’s able to detach himself from the Akademiya during the archon quest in order to overthrow Azar —even though, as we know, it was a selfish decision in nature, since he wanted to maintain his job as the Scribe (and therefore, the stability that Kaveh relied on).

We’ve seen the problems that belonging to a community conveys in Nahida and Alhaitham’s story quests: the people who wanted to avoid grief by staying with the memories of their dead loved ones, and the scholars who felt ostracized from their community and organized into a hive mind to share their strengths (though at the same time sharing their weaknesses).

Though both gathered people with a unified interest that made the community function, the nature of this collective commitment was fragile and fated to fail. However, rather than focusing on individual faults, it’s important to note the characters who got involved in these communities were more a product of their environment and a victim to their own human vulnerabilities, whether grief, arrogance or loneliness.

Unlike Alhaitham, who has a comfortable job that pays well enough to spend on luxuries and doesn’t have any blood relatives to take care of or fulfill filial piety for, characters like Ilyas were burdened by these constraints, and the additional emotional need to belong in society.

Only focusing on people’s strengths while leaving their weaknesses unattended, like in the Hivemind from Alhaitham’s quest, makes the structure of the community frail and it will easily crumble.

Supplying a means to ignore people’s pains or vulnerabilities instead of actual support, like the illusion world created to avoid grief from Nahida’s story quest, only leads to stagnation.

There are certainly wrong ways to go about in building a society, but the solution is not to become individualistic.

Building A Successful Community

In Nahida’s voicelines she says:

(In Chinese, that final “us” is between quotes)

Interpreting this line in terms of how society is built, Nahida argues that there are common people who depend on the support of a community to survive and thrive (the “mediocre majority”), so naturally without them there is no nation (“us”).

A nation is not made of exceptional individuals only, nor is it upheld only by those with more power. Everyone deserves to have their needs met, and everyone can contribute in their own ways.

The Grand Bazaar that supports the Zubayr Theater is depicted as a small community which thrives on human connection and collectivism within the borders of the city.

In Nilou’s story quest we see that the locals are fine giving away their merch for free so that the goods won’t be wasted, that they welcome anyone who is willing to be part of them and protect each other fiercely, and that they share a bond that goes beyond just working for wages.

This quest features a daughter alienated from her father who seeks to escape the burden of the Akademiya’s traditional concept of family, but finds true connection among the theater. When her father threatens to demolish the place, all of them stand together as one and turn this bond into a strength. A debate is held, and Nilou acts as a representative against the Akademiya (and its values).

Nilou and Sharif's daughter, Inayah, end up winning the debate and their right to remain functioning as a theater.

A collective formed on the basis of human connection is fated to succeed, Nahida is right to consider this in her understanding of an ideal nation.

However, Alhaitham is not blind to this fact either.

Alhaitham’s Tether To Community

He has an exceptional intellect, but that doesn’t mean he lacks emotional intelligence as it’s usually assumed. He may not share the pains of others like an empath, but the archon quest proved that emotion should be appreciated where it’s meant to be valued: this was precisely the key to fight the sages at the Akademiya when they used Cyno as an involuntary mole.

At the end of the Sumeru archon quest, Alhaitham says this about the Grand Bazaar during the toast of victory:

And then, immediately brings up Kaveh:

In this sense, it could be said that Kaveh is to Alhaitham what the people at the Grand Bazaar are to each other. A bond formed not on the basis of academic pursuits, but on human connection. It is not measured by the results produced of joint collaboration, and whether there’s failure or success, it can still stand on its own and act as a support for both parties.

Nahida's voiceline:

Considering Nahida says Kaveh has an almost perfect grasp on what it means to be a nation of wisdom, maybe Kaveh is the person that allows Haitham to be an active part of this ideal society which is based on human connection, altruism and collectivism.

After all, as someone who exists outside of society by choice, Alhaitham has lent Kaveh a hand in a time of need. It is unclear if he owed it to him, since Kaveh refused his part of the house that was a product of their collaboration, but Haitham isn't concerned about it.

Alhaitham’s voiceline:

Due to his reputation, Kaveh can’t show his vulnerabilities to other people, but there are certainly those who are now able to see through him and support him like Tighnari, Cyno and Alhaitham.

Alhaitham mostly refuses to be part of their little group, but he has Kaveh, their relationship is defined by a concept of community (and, by extension, family) that is unique to them, and based on connection.

Final notes: I left this post up for interpretation, but when I mention "family" it includes romantic relationships. A significant other/romantic partner is a person's family too, and the bond is just as strong and committed as that of platonic or filial relationships. I don't personally ship these characters myself (their dynamic just isn't my cup of tea, otherwise I'd be on board), but fans who do are also engaging in analysis of their dynamic and to me that perspective matters.

[judgementale]

Some facts about Sans:

He was forced to wear something more professional by Papyrus once he shared the news of his newest employment since he was going to be Asgore's assistant.

The reason behind the change in jobs is because of the fact that a royal judge just isn't very high in demand in the underground. The local authorities handle most cases fine and monsters are pretty peaceful.

And since it's been several decades since the last human sighting (very few monsters alive in the underground know how a human looks like), it was high time for a better gig.

My headcanon is that Asgore is dyslexic (Dreemurr being a misspelling of the word "Dreamer" being the primary reason) and Comic Sans is famously dyslexic friendly. Hence why he was hired and not somebody else.

(Explanations for my thought process below:)

I've always had a gripe with how nobody (as far as I know) has done anything with Sans' position as judge for things *other* than checking/punishing humans or monsters for killing.

What if it was a normal job? What if it was a position that he had to apply for? Who would've been the previous judges? How did he learn the things he knows?

So I've made a point to answer those questions myself, which is where the original concept of the AU (and the name of it) came to be. It's expanded a lot since, but Judge!Sans is still a central part, even if he doesn't work as one anymore.

[duckapus]

Had an idea for what to do next with Ozymandias and Garyboy... they're gonna join a cult!

Well, okay, they find a cult dedicated to Ozymandias so now they have a bunch of zealously loyal henchmen and a place to stay but that's not as funny.

I figure that with his whole "ancient world-destroying serpent sealed in a prison of his own making who still has enough influence to tempt passing programs into potentially freeing him" schtick he'd have the mythic status to draw in zealots. Leto not so much since it's "That One Overpowered Program Almost Everyone's Been Screwed Over By At Least Once," which doesn't lend itself well to gaining a Godly reputation.

Anyway, don't know what to name the cult, but I do know that its leader is a server Admin (not one of the Adminspace ones, just a standard one like the one in charge of the Veggietales server) named Roulette, and her server is the Snake-Eyes Casino, the biggest, most popular casino (and hotel) outside of the Dark Web. It's all above-board, even their most...controversial attraction.

...Yeah, they have a Professional Fighting League. Not a fight club, they don't let any random pop-up ad off the street waltz in and get themselves killed by the freakshow of the week, it's more like the Glitz Pit where it's basically professional wrestling but with any form of combat allowed (within reason, there are certain rules and regulations to keep the fighters as safe as possible, hence why this is legal when fight clubs aren't). The fighters are all under contract as casino employees, and receive extensive training and medical benefits to keep their skills sharp and prevent as much lasting damage as possible. They're here to compete and draw in a crowd, not kill each other.

Speaking of the Glitz Pit, the manager of this attraction just so happens to be a version of Mr. Grubba himself. Considering his reputation, many are wary of him being in charge of yet another combat arena, but the lack of a Crystal Star and having Roulette as an overhead seem to be keeping him in line.

He's one of the few non-initiates aware of Roulette's life outside of work, and while she doesn't exactly trust him to keep it a secret, she trusts he knows what she'll do to him if he tries to tell anyone while still indebted to her. It's not exactly cheap or easy to smuggle someone out of Computer Hell and get rid of their Inmate code flag without anyone finding out, after all, and as a Character-Level who got in by dying he didn't exactly have a way to pay with money when he hired her for that job, so instead she basically owns his code until his arena makes enough money to cover his tab. And she makes damn sure he remembers it.

[theliterarywolf]

The funniest thing i saw on twitter like, a month ago was a person replying to a bunch of people making fun of a shitty fandub of Jojo with AI voices saying: "This is great actually because then we won't have those WoKe PeaPLe ruining dubs". And some idiots were agreeing with him somehow.

The people that do the voices in dubs and the people that do the translation... aren't the same people. And even if there are some people that translate AND voice characters, this problem won't be fixed by making the voices such.

2. People realize that AI translation is just google translate right? Even if it "Improves with time" or whatever it still won't understand little nuances like slang, or made up terms, or that characters should have different personalities.

Seriously, i know that people really dislike things like 4kids dubs, or little annoying changes like in Dragonmaid, but these idea of just translating everything literally is even worse than any of that.

Trust me as a person that lives in a country that dubs everything, and has watched some bad literally translated stuff. Y'all will be lounging for 4Kids stupid added puns and jokes after some of those

I think we also need to realize that the solution to the issues with the dubbing/localization industry in the US isn't AI or isn't 100% 1-to-1 translation.

But, really, is the dissolution of the Popular Kids Club that is so prevalent and long-standing. What I mean is that the American dubbing/localization industry has a problem of only hiring people from a certain group of 'professionals' that have been in the industry forever and, because of that, feel like they can treat their place in the industry as the high school clique that they never had in high school.

Hence, why they feel they can get away with being antagonistic, producing shoddy work, and only letting in 3-5 new VAs/localizers every four years.

We also need to spread that shit out. There was no reason why the bulk of the dubbing/localization work had to be centralized to Texas and Southern California.

But, you know, some people don't want to look at long-term solutions and think that AI will magically fix everything~

[xaharadesert]

MC Who Hates Nail Clipping - Headcanon

Lucio x MC

A/N: this one is for @somethingbunny! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open!

💛Lucio💛

As you may have guessed, Lucio is a man who cares very deeply about personal hygiene

He has an hour long skin routine every morning and night, not to mention the hair, the clothes, the makeup, the nails—

So, when he sees how bad you are at taking care of yourself, especially your nails, he’s irked to say the least

He doesn’t really understand why you don’t hold the same reverence for personal hygiene that he does

He tries to rectify this by hiring a team of professionals to do your hair, makeup, etc in hopes that maybe you’re just someone who likes to be pampered

For the most part, it works

But you never seem to warm up to the nail tech

At first he assumed the tech was just incompetent, hence why you would avoid them

But, no, he’s had his own nails done by them a few times, and they’re as good as they come

He really doesn’t know what to do

Is it a sensory thing? Do you not like having your nails filed? They could clip them instead— but no, you don’t seem fond of that either

He once tries clipping your nails in your sleep, but that just kinda freaks you out when you wake up with shorter nails

In the end, he sort of just accepts it for a while

It’s not like you need to do much with your hands— there’s no problem in letting your nails grow out as long as they’re cared for

But when you get used to the nail tech, he gives them to signal to discreetly cut your nails when you’re too distracted to even recognize that it’s happening

It might be a little underhanded, but hey, it’s effective as long as it’s subtle

[findafight]

I posted 7,803 times in 2022

145 posts created (2%)

7,658 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@galahadwilder

@bbq-grillmaster

@phoenixyfriend

@hyenasnake

I tagged 2,374 of my posts in 2022

#qitup - 345 posts

#stranger things - 311 posts

#sw - 302 posts

#video - 213 posts

#steddie - 148 posts

#steve harrington - 134 posts

#platonic stobin - 111 posts

#finda's rambles - 89 posts

#ml - 71 posts

#finda writes stuff - 57 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#jim is down for it and afterwards goes 'that was wild. when can we do it like that again?' and spock is like 'in seven years' jim goes oh🥺

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Middle-aged rockstar Eddie on twitter is so funny to me he'll have very professional tweets about tours or releases etc and promote causes he supports but then he'll be a little chaos gremlin like

"the first time Steve and I actually met I held a broken bottle to his neck. Think that awakened something in him. 😈"

And Steve replies

"Robin told me I sucked on a daily basis, Jonathan punched me in the face, two weeks after Nancy pointed a gun at me I told her I loved her. You ain't special"

And Eddie replies an hour later with

"WAIT A SECOND STEVE DID YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON JONATHAN"

While his followers and fans are like...what is going on and who is Jonathan. Why is Eddie Munson airing his relationship drama on twitter dot com. WHY DID HE HOLD A BROKEN BOTTLE TO STEVE'S NECK

2,113 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#4

I am a hardline Steve is a "boring queer" truther. Yes he's bi and genderqueer!! Does he change pronouns? Nope! It's easier to use he/him and he doesn't care. Does he wear anything other than high waisted mom jeans and sweatshirts? Absolutely not. Just because gender means next to nothing to him both for himself and in regards to attraction doesn't mean he's going out of his way to do anything about it. He knows he looks like Just Some Jock but he's comfy!! His ass looks good! What more is there to clothes than that!

He goes to bed at ten and wakes up at six-thirty for a run before work. His favourite show is M*A*S*H. The most outlandish thing he's done besides Monster Killing is name his rescue cat WoodChipper because it kept trying to eat his porch.

3,596 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#3

Steve shows up to work one day with a baby bjorn complete with sleeping baby on his chest and Robin is like Steve....what the fuck?

And Steve says "I would've called you last night but she'd only stop crying when I held her and my parents were fighting, obviously, and I had to figure out how to make her bottle then I fell asleep with her on top of me and I think my dad legitimately forgot about us even though this is his fault, and there's no one to take care of her so I had to bring her. Sorry."

That is a lot and answers very few of Robin's questions.

"who...is she?"

Steve brightens and smiles down at the baby who's tiny baby fist is scrunched up in his work vest. "Oh! My half sister. Her mom works for one of my dad's business partners and brought her to my parents while they were away last week so they came home, mostly to dump her off on a nanny they forgot to hire--hence my baby holder here--and fight. Turns out dad cheating is easier to ignore when there isn't actual proof of it."

"oh. Woah."

"yeah. Anyways, ready to rewind some tapes?"

So they start work Steve logging returns into the computer and cupping the baby whose name I don't know yet's head. Then the little baby wakes up, making little baby noises, and Robin is not one for babies really, but Steve coos and picks her hand off his chest and waves it at Robin.

"see, that's your auntie Robin! Say hiii auntie Robin!"

The baby chews her tongue at Robin and blows a spit bubble.

And how is Robin supposed to not be charmed by that?

"awww," she says, letting the baby grab her finger, "yeah, I'm your auntie Robin. Your big brother's gonna take care of you so good huh? You'll know your way around retail in no time."

Steve giggles.

It is then that The Gremlins decide to show up and Cause Noise. Baby sister starts to cry and Steve takes her to the back to get her to calm down and change her, comes out (ignores the party's questions. Giving them Ultimate Mom Pose with Bonus Effect of Baby) hands her to Robin who is a little nervous but she will not let her new niece (?) Down, and goes back to find and heat up a bottle.

Eddie, who drove the gremlins and was looking for something in his van comes in, sees Robin holding the baby and is like huh? What's this?

And then Steve comes out with a bottle and a baby blanket over his shoulder, reaches for the baby from Robin and tries to get her to latch on the bottle with quiet words and gentle hands and Eddie is not okay he's not fine he's having a melt down because Steve with the kids is one thing but Steve with a Baby is something very different and he should not be expected to keep it together seeing this

Part 2.

Part 3

5,784 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

#2

Rockstar Eddie au in the 90's and there's rumours he is ~homosexual~ right. So the whole band is in an interview, and the journalist asks

"so, Eddie, what do you have to say about those rumours ?"

"what rumours" (he knows exactly what rumours)

"the rumours about you having slept with a number of men. About being, ah, gay? Seeing as you've never had a public relationship with a woman, and some of the songs you've written could be seen as, ah, insinuating things."

(at this point Jeff and Gareth make Significant Eye Contact. They know what's about to happen.)

Eddie nods. "Ahhh. THOSE rumours. Well, gotta say, don't believe everything you hear!" He pauses just enough for the interviewer to open their mouth and interrupts. "I mean," he leans forward with a wide grin, "obviously I am a flaming queer. We know this. [Insert song title here] is clearly about gay sex, duh, I'm not exactly a subtle man. It's the sleeping around stuff that's just plain rumour. I've been happily in a committed monogamous relationship since '86!"

this is obviously not how the interviewer thought any of this would go. They are scrambling. "O-oh? Would you like to... Elaborate on that?"

Gareth speaks under his breath "oh no, now he's not gonna stop" as he looks to the ceiling. Jeff's face is valiantly trying to not smile.

Eddie is vibrating. "Oh absolutely! Okay, so we're from this Podunk Indiana town in buttfuck nowhere, right? Steve and I met when-"

"Eddie please, man. I can't believe you held out this long but we have an album to promote and if you start gushing about Steve we'll be here forever. Please, Eddie." Says Jeff, smiling.

Eddie proceeds to pout as his bandmates ignore his grumbling about never getting to talk about Steve and Jeff and Gareth are like Eddie you waxed poetic about his chest hair in song literally five minutes before this interview. PLEASE let us talk about music I'm sure people will clamour to get an interview exclusively about Steve. You'll have time to talk about him to the press just let us have One Last Interview that isn't just Eddie Talking About Steve Time. Please.

9,948 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

When someone comes out Steve's immediate gut reaction is to drag their taste in romantic prospects. Robin rejected him and came out and he went full "okay fine but please like BETTER girls oh my god" like the Mean Girl he is. God bless.

When Will blurts that he's in love with Mike (which... Yeah Steve knew that one.) Steve goes "okay there's nothing wrong with liking boys but why wheeler?? You can do so much better Will. Seriously. Literally anyone else." And will is just ?????? He just said he liked boys and Steve's biggest issue is that it's Mike?! "Mike is being a jerk!! He's ignoring you!! Dump his ass, Will!" Most confusing acceptance ever.

Eddie confesses to Steve and the man blinks at him like "but...I'm a prep?? And bitchy? And have had, like, five concussions?"

And Eddie is like "what the fuck are you talking about"

"I'm just saying I doubt I'm your usual type! Obviously I like you back but you could probably do better"

"Steve are you saying my feelings are reciprocated while also being self deprecating n order to insult my taste in men?"

"oh. Yeah. Oops."

Lucas and max come out without specifying crushes (except on each other) so there is no need to drag them for their taste in men or women.

Dustin is like "I literally only like Suzie" and Steve is like "I know this and I love you (and her)" BC Suzie is amazing and helped save the world too. And grey ro/ace Dustin.

The only person whose taste he doesn't criticize is Mike and that's because when he says he's in love with will Steve just goes "he's too good for you" and nothing else.

12,144 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fuzzydreamin]

Random Headcanons for: Nick Valentine

♥ His senses are more dulled than a humans, but they are there. There are spots on his body where he doesn't get that kind of reception, but also many places where he does. He can 'feel' if someone presses a hand to his fake skin.

♥ A lot of his senses work in the way the human brain tricks itself into believing things, like that certain colours exist when they don't, or filling in blanks we couldn't actually perceive in order to get a clearer picture. It's not always real in the literal sense but it's real to the mind either way. It's all just electronic signals, but that's the same for fully biological people too. So, his senses and feelings are real, real enough anyway. He just has more electronic signals to make up for the lack of chemistry and hormones.

♥ He can eat. It’s not quite the same as with a human, but he can process food through his body similarly to a human, and he even gets some energy from it. It’s not a necessity, and he can certainly go without food, but it’s enjoyable and makes him feel more human. That’s why he eats noodles sometimes.

♥ Adding on from above, he has working chemoreceptors, meaning he can taste and smell things (this is canon). So he can enjoy his noodles, or other food and drink, in this fashion too. Also his cigarettes and anything else he puts in or near his face. Again, he's not sure anymore if it's the same as a regular human, but the senses are there.

♥ All that said, the things he consumes don't necessarily have to be edible. Poison doesn't work on him for example. Hence why Vadim likes to use him as a test subject for his moonshine. Nick's eaten some weird, and potentially dangerous, things in the past just to see how they taste.

♥ He has a regular maintenance schedule. Which he never sticks to perfectly, but he does get around to it eventually. Ellie will usually bother him before he does. He'll pop open his body and check his joints, grease things up, top up his coolant, etc. He has to set aside a whole day for this, maybe two.

♥ His skin is pliant and flexible, softer in some places than others, like the joints. It's still noticably harder and tougher than human skin, especially around the broken edges, since they have weathered more. It's like rubber, but not.

♥ Generally he's not as self concious about his exposed parts as some might think. Sure, it can still be a sore point, especially when meeting someone for the first time, but he's never made any attempts to hide what he is, and he can glean a lot about a person by how they react to him. Mostly he's concious about his metal hand hurting someone, not how it looks.

♥ He'd wear a glove over his hand more if it were feasable, but the metal catches in the fabric and either tears it up or severely limits the movement of his hand. Same goes for wearing a scarf to cover his new facial damage, he'd constantly be readjusting it and that's too much of a bother.

♥ He reciprocates Ellie's feelings to him, viewing her like something of an honorary daughter the way she sees him as a father figure, but he also worries about leaning into that and overstepping boundaries. She is an adult, who had real parents, and is tough in her own right. So he tries to keep up the air of friendly professionalism most of the time. He'll still wade through hell for her. Don't touch his kid.

♥ His favourite dance style is the Lindy Hop. His old synth body might have a little trouble keeping up on some of the moves, but he's still down to do his best at cutting a rug with you.

♥ Human Nick could play the piano and synth Nick hasn't forgotten this skill either. He also has some skill at bowed instruments, but he feels he could never quite get the sounds right. He's a bit of a perfectionist there.

♥ He could have hunted Eddie down on his own. The Commonwealth may be a big place but he's had nothing but time, and it wouldn't have taken too much effort to hire some decent mercs to clear the places taken over by raiders or mutants to get the tapes, but the big issue was that he didn't feel that that was the right way to go about it. It was still personal to him, and he didn't want to do it alone. It wasn't until Sole showed up that he had a person both close and capable enough to go through it with him.

♥ He's dated but never had any serious relationships. He and Irma has a short fling. It ended when she realised she liked Amari, something Nick had already picked up on. It was entirely amicable and Nick is supportive of their relationship.

♥ Doesn't want a Gen 3 body. There are too many implications surrounding that, no matter how it's done, that he is absolutely fully against. Even if his body were destroyed and his memories were put into a Gen 3 to 'save him', he would still be very conflicted and upset about it for a long time. Honestly he'd prefer being put into another Gen 2 over a Gen 3, he'd still have some confusing thoughts to muddle through but at least it wouldn't be so much of a violation in his mind.

♥ That said, he's all for finding ways to modify his body, so long as he approves of the changes. He's tried before, so actually getting things like that to work would be great. When Ada gets a jetpack he seriously considers his whole 'synths with wings' bit.

NSFW

♥ Is more self concious of his body in this regard. The hand and face people just have to deal with, but there's a lot of other damage that few people get to see on him, and even then he's not usually concerned about what they think of it outside of whether he needs a new screw or some wires fixed. But with a partner there's a little more at stake on the physical side of things than just his health. He'd just need some reassurances and time to get used to the fact that it's not a bother.

♥ Nick is fairly vanilla on the surface, he's a natural romantic and honestly happy to be wanted (outside of just as a fetish for someone, which is a hard no from him), and would put a lot of emphasis on making sure his partner is comfortable, pleased, and lavished with that good old fashioned affection.

♥ That said, he makes a very good dom. He definitely has a thing for control within his close personal life, and can be very demanding when he wants to be. So if this was something his partner could enjoy he'd lean into it. This would mostly be played out by asserting authority, roleplay, and the restriction of movement and other senses. He would be much more hesitant to play into anything that might actually cause harm to his partner, such as spanking or the like, and would only do it if his partner insisted, and even then only after triple checking that they're sure.

♥ Can also easily be flipped, with him letting a partner take more control during a sexual situation and allowing himself to let go for a bit under their care, letting them explore him to their hearts content.

♥ Spit as lubricant for real. Produces a fake saliva that helps smooth his voice rather than having him speak in the tinny voicebox of other synths, and aids in his eating habits. So, it can be used in bed too.

[karinasbaby]

PARK SUNGHOON SMAU | I WISH SUNGHOON WAS MY BOYFRIEND..

PROFILES !

Ꮺ previous | masterlist | next

LEE JENO: model, 24, was recruited alongside jimin & sunghoon by chaeyoung, most of his brand deals are in paris + his schedules align a lot with jennie’s hence why he’s constantly travelling between seoul & paris, is close with the other two.

PARK SUNGHOON: model, 23, was recruited by his manager chaeyoung to odd atelier aka jennie’s fashion & design company, is really close with jimin & jeno, a smug and obnoxious asshole (he’ll hopefully get better eventually 😞)

YU JIMIN: model, 25, was also recruited by chaeyoung for odd atelier, besties with jeno & sunghoon, does runway more than the other two, on her way to become the top female model of sk.

UCHINAGA AERI: photographer, 23, got into photographing (mainly) & video editing bcs of yn’s influence, has been besties with day ones + jake since childhood, really sweet but .. concerning.

KIM YN: photographer, 25, has always had a special passion for photography since she was younger and that somehow migrated to her friends making some of them become photographers as well, an artist at heart, day ones founder.

NING YIZHUO: photographer, 22, youngest out of her group and had a rocky relationship with them in the beginning but they’re inseparable now, is attached at the hip with day ones.

JENNIE KIM: CEO of odd atelier, 30, picked up fashion designing at a young age before moving to paris to establish OA. travels between both seoul & paris constantly for the headquarters, recommended the triplets to chaeyoung personally after finding them on the internet. doesn’t have the best reputation around her personality as the industry always attempts to bring her down.

PARK CHAEYOUNG: manager at OA, 29, jennie’s best friend, in charge of the triplets, recruited the triplets around the same time after jennie’s request, also does CEO work for jennie in whichever opposite headquarters jen is at when needed.

JEON JUNGKOOK: supermodel, 27, was the most popular model in sk and had won model of the year award multiple amounts of times, highly praised and placed on a pedestal by the entire industry, is GOLDEN’S (the company he’s under) first and only supermodel. (horrendous personality i love u kook but sorry)

KIM MINJEONG: professional makeup artist under OA, 24, got hired after she graduated and applied for OA, was personally picked by chaeyoung from over a thousand applicants, is mainly hoon’s appointed MUA, a part of day ones and is yn’s best friend.

SIM JAEYUN: model, 23, born and raised in korea but moved to brisbane at a young age, now he’s pursuing a career in modelling, yn’s & day ones’ childhood bestfriend, a sweetheart and your go to gossip corner human version.

a,note. the profiles were rushed! a bit unclear as i didn’t know exactly what to put bcs i don’t want to accidentally spoil smth 😔 hence why some things might not make sense for now but trust me they will in future chapters! so this will have to do! enjoy & happy birthday chels !!

[alemad200]

Best Car Rental Deals in Dubai: Affordable, Flexible, and Convenient Options

Variety of Services at an Assorted Price Range for Monthly Car Rental Dubai

If you are planning to spend a longer period in Dubai, getting a rent a car monthly Dubai is also advantageous for various reasons. Long-term car rental is a much more reasonable option for employees who require a car for more than a few weeks; it will be useful for expatriates, businessmen and long-stay tourists. With a monthly rental you also get to pay much lesser than you would if you had to rent the car daily or per week, and the added advantage is that you do not have to return or get another car very often.

Cost Efficiency: Renting a car monthly in Dubai is more affordable compared to daily or weekly rentals, allowing you to save money over the long term.

Ideal for Long-Term Stays: It is perfect for expatriates, business professionals, and tourists staying for extended periods, offering a convenient transportation solution.

Read about the benefit and ultimate saving on your Pocket when you Rent a Car in Dubai on Monthly Basis

Low cost and Easy ways to hire an economical car in Dubai

In fact, it is possible to rent cheap car in Dubai without having to compromise on the quality or standard of the car. There’s many choices when it comes to both cheap and cheerful, or great deals with fresh well-maintained cars. Whenever you decide to take a cheap car for a rental, you will be well-connected with low-cost, affordable means of transport to suit you in your transport needs without having to struggle to pay beyond your means. This option is especially pertinent for thrifty tourists who planning to use a car as a temporary mean of transportation.

Affordability Without Sacrifice: You can rent a car in Dubai at a low cost without compromising on the vehicle’s quality or performance.

Wide Range of Options: There is a variety of budget-friendly cars available, from economy models to well-maintained, reliable vehicles, ensuring you find something within your price range.

Save the Most — Discover the Best and Most Affordable Car Rental Companies in Dubai

Those people who are looking for getting a maximum benefit for their money will be glad to see that a cheapest car rental Dubai meets them. This rental plans has the cheapest prices on the market hence serves perfectly for those who only require using a vehicle for a short period of time. With even the cheapest of prices you get a car that is efficient and ensures that any faults are fixed in order to give the customer a smooth and hassle free drive. In choosing the cheapest rental, one is somehow able to contain himself financially while having his own car to move around with.

Now, let’s have a look at the benefits of renting a car and having a desired vehicle on a monthly rental basis in Dubai.

Why It Makes Sense to Choose Car Rental Monthly in Dubai

Therefore, opting for the car rental monthly in Dubai is much effective for people who require a car for work or other things for a month or so. This rental model is relatively cheaper and flexible and enables you to coordinate your transport undertaking with little or no hassle. This is so because monthly rental has some charges which are lump sum while a daily rental costs are made up of daily charges. Moreover, when one has a car for a full month, it means that one is ready to be used anytime for any traveling needs that may be of importance for either personal or business use.

Flexibility: Renting a car on a monthly basis offers flexibility to suit personal or business needs, without the hassle of frequent returns or renewals.

Convenient for Work or Personal Use: This model provides a reliable vehicle that is always available for commuting, business travel, or personal errands.

Choose Dubai Rent a Car to Enjoy the Liberation for Traveling

However, when you decide to dubai rent a car, you have to enjoy a variety of car models that can suit your desires and needs. Car hire in Dubai enables you to go around the city and the surrounding areas without strict schedules on times to leave or arrive since one can terminate the rental and proceed at his/her convenient time. Regardless of whether you travel in and the city or prefer to travel long distances at a go, the availability of a wide means of transport means that one is able to get the right car for the job.

Get Ready To Enjoy Unmatched Flexibility with Rent a Car Dubai Options

Conclusion

Opting for a car rental in Dubai, whether monthly or short-term, offers unmatched convenience, flexibility, and affordability. Our diverse fleet ensures you find the perfect vehicle to meet your needs, all while enjoying competitive rates and exceptional service. From budget-friendly options to premium vehicles, our rental solutions cater to every type of traveler, making your stay in Dubai as comfortable and enjoyable as possible.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. What are the benefits of renting a car monthly in Dubai? Renting a car monthly in Dubai offers flexibility, cost savings, and convenience. It avoids the hassle of frequent renewals and typically provides better rates compared to daily or weekly rentals.

2. How can I find the cheapest car rental options in Dubai? To find the cheapest car rental options in Dubai, compare rates from different providers, consider budget-friendly vehicle models, and check for any ongoing promotions or discounts.

3. Can I switch vehicles during a monthly rental? Many rental agencies offer the option to switch vehicles during a monthly rental, allowing you to choose a different car if your needs change.

4. What do I need to rent a car in Dubai? To rent a car in Dubai, you typically need a valid driver’s license, a passport or Emirates ID, and a credit card for the rental deposit. Ensure you meet the rental agency’s specific requirements.

5. Are there any additional fees for renting a car in Dubai? Additional fees may include insurance, fuel, and late return charges. It’s important to read the rental agreement carefully and inquire about any potential extra costs before finalizing your booking.