#i love how they seem to slowly be switching styles lmao

[alby-rei]

[Arthur Week, Day 3] Midnight Snacks

a/n: in which MC (ft. accomplice Dazai) wants to make the resident flirt, Arthur Conan Doyle, jealous. Why? Who knows! But what I do know is that it ends up working in his favor rather than MC’s... wait, what?

a/n 2: changed the title cuz it was bothering me xD nothing else changed.

My entry for @scummy-writes​‘s Arthur Week! 

Day 3: Coffee and Fudge || Writer’s Block

[Pairing]: Arthur x You/gn!MC, (pre-relationship)

[Characters]: You, Arthur, Dazai, Sebastian

[Word count]: ~2300 words

[Rating]: T

[POV]: 2nd Person 

“...and all of a sudden, I hear Mozart yell ‘stop releasing chickens in my music room!’ but Dazai didn’t even flinch!” You brought a foam-covered hand up to your mouth to cover your laughter.

You and Sebastian were cleaning the dishes together after lunch time. You’ve made it a habit to catch up on your day and share observations with Sebas, as pretty much no one steps into the kitchen around this time.

Well, that is except—

“_____~!”

Except Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, naturally. He must’ve finished his writing session and been wandering around the mansion, as is his trademark since your arrival.

You closed your eyes, hoping the man would walk past the kitchen without checking. You weren’t exactly in the mood for flirty games with the mystery writer, especially not after dealing with a haughty music teacher in Mozart. Sadly, luck was not on your side, today.

“I’ll tell you the rest later,” you wipe your hands with a towel. Picking up the tray of plates and cups to put them in their rightful places, you didn’t pay the writer any mind.

“After this I gotta find Dazai,” you said as you opened a cupboard. Your turned around to find Arthur leaning on the door frame, and your tone shifted dramatically, “Oh! Arthur, funny to see you here.”

Sebastian knew that tone very well. It was your sickeningly sweet voice that you dedicated to either (a) dodging conversation, or (b) planning something against that person.

“I’d say the same to you, ___, but you’re always in the kitchen. I couldn’t help dropping in to check on my favorite bird,” Arthur leaned against the door frame, flashing you a grin and a wink.

“Oh please, don’t talk about birds after what happened this morning,”  You caught sight of your target at the end of the hallway, “aaaand I have to go, see ya!” 

You duck under Arthur’s arm while his guard was down. He twirled around to follow you, but you evaded him, calling out to Dazai. Arthur stood in his tracks, as he watched the japanese author stop for you, and you beamed up at him.

“Dazai-san, I’ve been wanting to ask you for something, if you’re… free,” you noticed mid-sentence that the chicken that was still nestled in his arms.

“Hm?” His piercing yellow eyes brightened, “I’ll always have time for you, Toshiko-san.”

“Bawk!” The chicken… agreed, supposedly.

You laughed sheepishly, “That’s very sweet of you, I was actually interested in learning about your writing style and get some advice. I’ve been going through some terrible writer’s block.”

“I was working on a short story earlier, it’s in my room. Want to come with me?” He began to lead her towards his room.      

“I’m honored! I’d love to, Dazai-san.”

Oh yes, you were definitely planning something, Sebastian noted.

As the two of them walked away, Arthur stood glued watching the scene. Sebastian had been poking his arm the whole time, but he didn’t budge. Even shaking his entire arm didn’t spur any sudden movement from him.

“Sir Arthur. Earth to Sir Arthur,” Sebas continued tapping his shoulder and pinching his arm.

“Huh? Oh…” His gaze held an odd expression, one that Sebastian hadn’t seen from him before—a hint of sadness, maybe even frustration. But it was quickly replaced by his signature grin as he finally took notice of me, “Sorry, Sebas, I must’ve been blocking your path, got to go!”

And just like that, he scurried off.

After a moment’s pause, and after making sure the hallway was clear of esteemed residents, Sebastian did much the same, but in the opposite direction. He has notes to take, pronto. 

~*~

You and Dazai sat in the lounge room, having passed by his room, and Dazai collected his writing material.

“You have really pretty hands, Toshiko-san. I’ve heard you playing in Mo-kun’s piano room, you’re a wonderful pianist,” Dazai held your hand delicately in his, as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“Thank you, it’s something I take a lot of pride in,” your heart swelled from the warmth of his compliment, “but I’ve been much more interested with writing as of late. Actually, I’ve always wanted to write a novel.”

“Oh? I admire your ambition. How can I help?”      

“Well well well, what do we have here?” A third voice chimed in.

Right on time, as you expected.

“Have I interrupted your little rendezvous?” Arthur walked slowly and purposefully, as if he had caught them red-handed doing something they shouldn’t.

Internally, he was trying his best not to jump to conclusions. That would be uncharacteristic of him, after all. You weren’t tied to him in anyway, so there was no reason to feel so jealous that you went to Dazai for writing help instead of him. He didn’t even know about it!

So why was his heart pounding so loudly in his head while his eyes were fixated on their linked hands?

Dazai withdrew his hand, occupying it with his writing pen instead. He shot Arthur a smile with closed eyes.

“Of course not, we were just talking, Arty.”

“…Don’t call me that,” Arthur narrowed his eyes, “and second, I’d like to steal ____ now.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur, but I want to talk with Dazai a bit to improve my writing.”

Being shot down so directly caught Arthur off-guard; his insecurities getting a hold of him. For the first time, he found himself at a loss for ways to turn the conversation in his favor. At the moment, if he persisted, and you kept turning him down, he wouldn’t be able to let it down for the rest of the day.

Instead, Arthur straightened himself, fixing his tie, “Well then, I’m heading to the pub soon enough to find me a pretty skirt for the evening. Have fun, you two, I know I will.”

He huffed childishly, going out with a wave. Dazai turned to you with a polite smile.

“Do you think it worked?”

“Oh, he is definitely salty, thanks for agreeing to this, Dazai-san.”

“Any time, Yoshie-san, what are housemates for?” He smiled fondly at you.

“You’re a great actor, didn’t even flinch!”

“Ah, but who said I was acting?”

He got up with his writing tools and stepped out of the lounge before you registered what he said.

“Wait… what?!”

~*~

Later that evening…

…Well, more like around midnight, you just happened to catch the insomnia bug and were heading to the kitchen, as all people naturally do when they’re insomniac. You switched on the lights, thankful for the dimness of the lanterns in the kitchen. Scanning your options, your eyes settled on the coffee pot that sat quietly in the corner. Thoughts of a certain mystery writer gnawed at you, but you darted them away and walked past the coffee pot to get a glass of water instead. You leaned forward, filling her glass with bleary eyes that refused to slumber but also refused to open properly.  

Suddenly, you felt a touch to your backside. Eyes cracking wide open, you spun around and swung your makeshift weapon of glass at your offender. The offending mop of ash blue hair felt the full force of the blow, and the glass shattered across the floor.

Well crap.

“Ow… If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you were trying to kill me there, ____.”

For the love—.

“Arthur what the hell were you trying to pull?! Bloody hell! You made my heart drop.”

In a flash, his body was pressed against yours, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter. The crunch of the glass under his shoes was the only sound in the room. You saw a small stream of blood start to fall by his ear.

“I was going to prepare myself a midnight snack with my coffee, but it seems I already found one ready for a taste test,” he licked the back of his fangs.

“At this hour??” It was well past midnight by now, and caffeine was the last thing you’d recommend anyone at this time. 

You felt his breath on your ear before he inhaled your scent. It was comforting to him as much as it was intoxicating to his senses.

He sighed, “____… I can’t get you out of my mind, no matter what I do.”

His arms circled around your waist, pulling you away from the countertop and flush against him, instead. All sorts of alarms were going off in your mind despite the drowsiness, with your instincts telling you to push him off.

“But then, you started avoiding me. And then… Sebastian and Mozart and even Dazai took you away from me,” he sniffled.

You pushed him off gently but still within his arms, as you stared at his face. There was a pink dust across his cheeks and a redness in the corners of his eyes.

“Arthur, are you… drunk?”

His frown flipped into a grin as he nuzzled his nose into your disheveled hair.

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear. I may have been out drinking, but I can bloody well hold my liquor. Theo can vouch for me on that.”

(a/n: no, he can’t lmao)

The sight of him in a somewhat vulnerable state, as well as the smell of his cologne, made it hard for you to properly fight him. Plus, you felt bad for crushing a glass cup on his head. Speaking of which…

“Is your head okay?”

“Hm…” He brought a gloved hand to his forehead, feeling a dull pounding in its wake, “I must say, you got me good, even the most daring fools never landed a hit on me yet.”

Just how thick is his skull to endure that?! You were both dazzled and frightened by their realization. 

With one of his arms off of you, you took this chance to escape, but you slid on a shard of glass and would have fallen face first onto the floor had Arthur not pulled you against him and taken the impact of the floor to his own shoulder. He laid on his back, clutching you protectively against his chest. He groaned with pain, but he pushed it aside to check on you first.

“Clumsy tonight, are we, or are you seriously trying to kill me?” He chuckled wryly.

Before you could even blink, you felt your vision do a 180-flip, and you were suddenly beneath him, away from the glass shards that littered the floor. The scent of his cologne flooded your senses again, as he smirked down on you with a drunken lopsided grin.

“I was absolutely livid when I saw Dazai hold your hand. Was that part of your plan, darling? Well, I’ve taken the bait.”

You flinched, your body wide awake to every touch and caress of this man. You bit your lip to avoid playing into his hands. You were still in control of the situation, you thought. His lips descended to your jaw, barely brushing your skin, like he’s testing your limits. Instinctively, you sighed, unaware of the breath you’d been holding.

Ok, maybe you weren’t entirely in control, either.

“Arthur…” You commanded, trying to regain some semblance of control back.

This was not part of your plan, however, and you were quickly losing grip of all reason and logic. You needed to get him off and away from you before you acquiesced to his ministrations.

“But don’t worry, ____. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

He drew back from you, staring down at you with an uncharacteristic tender look. He continued.

“The effect you have on me is not one I’ve felt with any woman I’ve ever encountered before. It’s confusing—maddening, even— and I can’t escape it… because I don’t want to,” he sighed in surrender, “I want you, ___.” 

It was a look of pure love and affection that shone in his eyes. His half-opened shirt invited your gaze to roam his body, and his thick-rimmed glasses framed his features in such an alluring glow that outshone the dimness of the kitchen. His hair looked softer than usual, too. Your hand twitched at the thought of running your fingers through those ash blue locks. Your mind was thrown into a whirlwind with the influx of new information, one that dented your rationality. Your desire to get closer to him wrestled against your impartial stoicism, threatening to crack the armor around the stone gates to your heart.

“Hey Arthur,” you started, twirling a lock of his hair with your hand. It was ever-so-slightly damp; he must’ve bathed in le thermae earlier.

“Yes, ____?”

Damn that seductive voice of his, you shooed away that thought as soon as it entered. You chose to focus on something much more pressing at the moment. 

“We need to get you bandaged up. You’re bleeding terribly from your head.”

~*~

It took a lot of convincing, but Arthur finally acquiesced to your persistent request.

“There, all done,” you stepped back from Arthur, who was sitting hunched over on his bed.

You were both settled in his room with his medical bag open on the desk and his equipment strewn all around. You didn’t exactly know what to do to treat Arthur’s wound, but you insisted on doing it for him… with copious amounts of instructions from him.

“I brought you some fresh coffee and fudge, as an apology.”

“At this hour?” He mimicked your tone from earlier. You rolled your eyes at his childishness.

“And here I am trying to make it up to you, and this is how you show gratitude?”

You huffed indignantly, ready to head out and leave the unappreciative writer to his own devices.

“Hold on, now,” he gripped your wrist before you could fully turn away, “you’re the one who smashed glass on my head, so you owe me a favor.”

“…a favor on top of tending to your wounds and bringing you coffee?”

“Oh, indulge me, won’t you? You did those of your own volition.”

You sigh, “Depends on the request, then.”

“Feed me,” he perked up with no hesitation or embarrassment in his tone.

You wanted to turn him down, to tease him about his child-like excitement, but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes. Those eyes held a very powerful hold over you though you blame it on your own tiredness outweighing your better judgment.

“Alright…” You moved aside his things to sit next to him, leaning towards the table to drag the tray closer to yourself.

“Open wide, you incorrigible baby.”

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[lovelyysiriuss]

love in cutlery

*gif not mine

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is actually a story of how my parents met LMAO i just decided to turn it into a bucky oneshot. it's so cheesy and has overall fluff, enjoy <3

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: “When love feels like magic, it is called destiny; when destiny has a sense of humor, it is serendipity.”

WORD COUNT: 906

MAIN MASTERLIST | ASKS! REQUESTS! TAGS! | SUBMIT ANYTHING! | WATTPAD

Destiny. A fascinating concept. Though, it discontinues remaining so once individuals cease believing in such. A constant waiting game of expectations—expecting the perfect person. They begin to feel impatient.

He was one of them.

106 years of waiting. Enduring anyone’s worst nightmares; mind control with gut-wrenching torture. Furthermore, PTSD. Slipping, slipping into a doom without a possible ending.

Fate was the last judgment on Bucky’s mind. Although he longed for it, a desire. His constant thought of a special her. A person to assist in easing his pain along with the pressure of the world. A woman to wake up to; waking to cook pancakes, with blueberries—his favorite.

Steve found a special someone, envying Bucky. The scrawny kid from Brooklyn, switching into superhuman overnight, then Captain America decades succeeding. He found himself a soulmate.

She was giving up, as well. Tumbling into nothingness.

Then they meet. Time flowed differently. Slowly, without rhythm, as they gaped. Piercing gazes, little to no end. She bestowed him hope, an acknowledgment that it was okay. A confirmation that loving is a component of living. To live is to love, to love is to live.

Once again they meet. Serendipity.

A significant day. Consisting of excitement, including the chitter-chatter of many. Steve Rogers, the Captain America, was being espoused. Naturally, his reliable companion, pal, and buddy was the best man. James Buchanan Barnes.

Fatefully, she was summoned. Sharon’s kindest colleague and friend. The maid of honor.

Without warning, nor anticipation, they caught sight of each at the matrimony. Shocked, appalled, yet at ease.

She turned to the man staring directly through her. As if she was the most gentle piece of glass, nearly ready to be shattered within any given consequence.

He noticed that her locks were styled to perfection, with her dress hugging her body to supremacy. Bucky never appreciated true beauty until he was looking directly at it. The brunet was breathless, at a loss for words, an impossible struggle to get them out, until he does, “H-Hi.”

The girl was suffocating. Suffocation in the best way. Almost livid. “Hey…”

“This was so unexpected. I-I didn’t think you’d be here…” James trailed off, running a hand through his dark locks.

She chuckled, fidgeting with her hands apprehensively below his gaze, “Same here.” An awkward silence occurred between the pair, “How were you invited here?”

“The groom is a good friend of mine. Um, you?” He questioned.

She chuckled, “The bride is a good friend of mine.”

Bucky chortled alongside her, “Well that makes a lot of sense.”

If past Bucky was observing 106-year-old Bucky, he would slap him for being incredibly unlike his past playboy self. Yet, before doing such, current Bucky would grab his hand and rip it off. He may have lost his charm, never his strength and stamina.

“Are you going to the reception?” He asked, exceedingly quickly.

She smiled at his eagerness, “I am.”

The waiters were beginning to serve food to the tables. “Shall we eat?” Bucky confidently brought his hand toward the girl for her to latch on to. She delivered a crooked, awestruck grin his way while tenderly grasping his hand, nodding. Feeling past Bucky entering his current being, he led the youthful maid to her seat, pushing her chair in for her. Then moving to the opposite side of the table and settling on a chair to directly face her.

The food was served to their table, followed by a quiet “thank you” arising from the polite girl. The man was practically melting at her charm and grace, like ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

She lifted her fork in her grip and began to peacefully eat her food. He was just about to seize his utensil as well until noticing that he did not attain one near his plate. He proceeded to scan the area to notice if his missing spoon was carelessly lying on a random spot atop the table, or perhaps if one of the waiters happened to misplace it there.

He kept looking around till she noticed. “What are you looking for?”

Meeting eyes with her, he shrugged, “I don’t have a spoon and I was wondering if it was lying around the table somewhere. I don’t think the waiters would just forget to give me a spoon.”

He continued fixating his gaze throughout the table, though he was interrupted by her once more. “Just take mine I’ll get a new one.” She beckoned a waiter over while gripping her spoon.

“Oh- w-well you don’t have to do that…”

She shook her head, clutching her spoon in her grasp, a waiter appearing beside her as she spoke, “I’m sorry, but my friend can’t seem to find his spoon. Is it alright if you-” She discontinued her train of thought as she looked down at the table, her metal spoon in hand, and felt it pull apart to reveal another metal spoon previously attached to it.

Bucky was staring at the scene as well. She looked up at him to see him already looking at her with a luminant expression. The waiter nonchalantly sauntered off with a gentle smile on his lips. The pair continued to have a stare-off, blown away at the scene that unfolded between them.

“Well, um…” She cleared her throat, “Here’s your spoon.” She passed the utensil his way.

He tenderly retained it from her grasp, sending a dazzling smile her way. “Thanks.”

PERMANENT TAGS: @soccer-100000 , @rottenstyx (dm me if you want to be part of a taglist, and specify which fandom)!

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[husbandomail-archive]

I just finished reading your dancing headcanons for the 5D's boys and was wondering if we get also have some dancing headcanons for the ARC-V boys, please.

Did the dragon boys + a few others lmao

Yuya leans heavily into his entertainer persona; he’s not the best dancer, but he’s been practicing, because there are plenty of moves that would go well with his dueling style. He can be a bit shy while he’s learning new things— there’s just something inherently mortifying about being imperfect— but he doesn’t mind being around you. Whether you’re already talented, or if you’re learning alongside him, Yuya loves having you as his practice partner; he’s gotten good at twirling you on your toes and then hauling you up in his arms as he finishes the spin himself, both of you laughing all the while.

Yuto has always been a bit more on the solemn side. Even then, it’s obvious when the dimensional war has begun wearing him down; he steps back into your shared hideout one night, quietly hanging his coat on its hook and saying he’s fine when you inevitably ask. Clearly he needs some time to relax. Before he can slump over on the couch, you’ve reached over and switched on the tiny radio on one of the cluttered shelves; it runs on old cassette tapes now, and a familiar song begins drifting through the air. When you smile and bat your eyes at Yuto, he smiles back, his hands landing on your waist as the two of you clumsily waltz around the room.

Yugo can’t dance, but that sure won’t stop him; he’s constantly bouncing to his own beat, and you’re sure Crow taught him a few dad moves. He’s always humming his own songs and tapping his toes, and it becomes habit for you to join in too; occasionally he’ll try to mimic a few ballet moves he saw on television, all to drag you into peals of laughter. Some mornings, though, when the two of you are barely out of bed and still blinking the sleep from your eyes, he comes up behind you as you’re trying to make breakfast and practically drapes his weight across you, the two of you swaying slowly as he hums something new.

Yuri, as part of his general education, knows a few ballroom dances; Academia has standards for its students, after all, and he’s no exception. To keep up the facade of being a normal school, occasionally there are events and dances; with his interest in you, it was inevitable that you’d end up in his arms, spinning in time across the polished floor, surrounded by other students in sparkling dresses and extravagant suits, his eyes trained on you alone. His one hand is warm against your waist, the other tangled with yours— for someone with so many crimes on his hands, they’re a lot more delicate than you’d expected.

Gongenzaka is not the dancing type. He’s large and his movements are sharp, steadfast— he doesn’t waltz, he doesn’t tango, and he sure doesn’t breakdance. No matter how much you pester him about practicing with you, he gently says no; it doesn’t suit him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint you with his two left feet. One night, as he’s helping you close down You Show for the evening, you realize that you’re the only two in the building— there’s nobody around to watch and judge, so you ask again. He’s not sure how you got him to agree this time, but suddenly you’re in Gongenzaka’s arms, smothered by his cologne and the fabric of his coat; he’s so much larger than you, you’re able to balance yourself on top of his feet and laugh as he tries to follow your instructions.

Shingo has had a very ‘classical’ education— although the etiquette training doesn’t seem to have stuck— and he always loves to show off whenever he can. He’s always seemed to love teasing you in particular; it’s not uncommon for him to snatch you up when you pass each other in the LDS hallways and twirl you around a bit until you’re dizzy. It always leaves you red in the face— maybe frustration, maybe embarrassment— and he laughs as he walks off. But then, one day, as he’s reaching out to grab you in passing, you beat him to the punch; dragging him in by his uniform’s tie, you lead him in the same dance he’s always taunting you with, spinning him around like a doll as his eyes get wider and wider. And then all at once you let go of him and continue on your way, as if nothing had just happened— Shingo stands there, stunned, his friends laughing at his dazed face.

[rebornthestage]

[2021.08.22] Kitamura Kento (Hibari) 17LIVE livestream

(I live translated his stream, so there may be details I'm missing/misheard.)

Starting remarks:

He wants to play Hibari more

He usually has great memories of the plays he's worked on, but not quite for this one; It doesn't feel like it ended yet.

He feels like they can do the play again, do the future arc again

His little bro is a big fan of Amano's works, especially KHR, so he's very familiar with this series

His brother is babysitting in the US, so he sends him clips of the play lol

It's only been half a year since he started Twitter and he appreciates all the support (likes, RTs, replies)

His faves are Dino and Primo in the manga. He loves their visuals. He thinks they look cool.

He actually wants to play as Primo lmao

Was excited when he heard James was playing Dino; he's worked with him in at least 3 plays (?, Hakuouki SSL, Hataraki Saibou); Met the first time in a while thanks to this stage

Q&A Section:

Q: Why do you have so many Hibird photos in your makeup area?

A: They're from Yamamoto Ryosuke! Ryosuke receives a Hibird photo from the production team every performance, so he gives them all to Kento since he's Hibari after all. He has around 8 of them. Sometimes Ryosuke forgets to give it to him and he feels unnecessarily disappointed lmao

Q: Thoughts on receiving Hibari's role A: First he wondered a lot about how he'd portray Hibari's fighting style, and tried to portray his cloud-like, untouchable feeling. Kento was set on fighting with "pauses" and "urgency" for Hibari. Hibari's the fastest in thinking and acting, like that time when everyone was panicking about Byakuran's attack, while Hibari immediately left to check on Namimori since that's where the attack landed.

Hibari can also be misleading. When the Real 6 Funeral wreaths landed at Namimori, he was first to speak. However, just when you think he was going to propose a plan, he just states that one of them landed in Namimori, which makes you wonder just how much he loves the place haha.

That unexpectedness makes him interesting to the viewers. He tends to speak, pause in the middle, and then change his tone/aura when he continues his sentence.

Q: Thoughts on Hibari before and after playing him A: He talked about this in his blog post. After playing him, he thinks of other people more than you'd expect. He acts to protect Namimori, and as a result, saves people.

Q: Have you planned the curtain call interactions with Ryohei and Lambo beforehand? A: Nope. That was all thanks to Kimeru adlibbing, and Kento has no idea when Ryohei will jump in lol.

On a tangent, but he very much admires Kimeru for perfectly playing his role. He has already perfected the role even when they just started rehearsing. He has the formula for Lambo down pat. This makes it easy for someone to copy and stand in for him during rehearsals.

Q: Can you share more info on the action parts? A: Every week he gets the stunts instructor to teach him something new, then he practices it on his own for the rest of the week.

Apparently, he practiced while facing a tree at the park, haha. A lot of people commented, saying they want to be the tree. He was like, "No way lol". There were so many people wanting to become trees that he said they were going to turn into a forest lol.

He then talks in detail about how to do a roundhouse kick properly lmao. The left leg/standing leg is important apparently lmao. He repeats this sentence a couple of times and demonstrates it with his fingers.

Sometimes he got tired after doing it so many times. However, when he started doing 1 hour stretches everyday, it became a lot easier.

Does aftercare? (Is that the right term to use here? haha) after practice because it's a lot of strain on his left leg and arm.

Q: What are your similarities with Hibari? A: He likes to do things on his own. Hyperfocused on what he likes. Is stubborn.

He likes to have a lot of preparation before taking something on...

He'll leave when he feels like leaving, lol

Q: Thoughts on Tsuna and Hibari's relationship, and your relationship with Takenaka Ryohei A: Tsuna is an important person in Present and Future Hibari's life.

Takenaka Ryohei is amazing. He has a different reaction to Present Hibari and TYL Hibari and he can really see and feel it... Ryohei's act really contributes to Kento's own acting. It's because Ryohei reacted that way that Hibari seems even more fearsome.

Ryohei can portray Tsuna's fear of TYL!Hibari, but then also show a different reaction when he stops Present!Hibari during Choice.

Usually, it should be the protagonist who would do something proactively while everyone else reacts. As the protagonist, but it's hard to give large reactions. However, in KHR, it's often Tsuna who reacts. It's because Tsuna reacts in a certain way that you can figure out what type of person the other character is. Ryohei is amazing for being able to do that role.

Q: Was it you playing as Alaude's silhouette? A: Yes. Yamamoto also played as Ugetsu.

Random tidbit: At the part where Deisy gets caught with the huge handcuffs, they didn't have those huge handcuffs until they were at the venue lol. So they've been practicing without it until then.

That's why his actions during that scene slowly started to change, since he began to have ideas on what else he could do at that scene.

Q: Thoughts on the Hibari switch scene A: He asked viewers when they realized it wasn't Kento as Hibari onstage? On their first watch? During the stream?

Daiki tried really hard to copy Kento's Hibari, like his walk so people wouldn't catch on. Was really happy when it was decided Daiki was the one who'll be his body double. He actually thought it would be an ensemble doing it, until 2 weeks (?) into rehearsals

Q: Happenings onstage? A: He doesn't really want to talk about it... However, after he turned 25, he's become more open to his mistakes so he can talk about this now haha.

When wearing suits, he wants to look suave and used to wearing them. Having the box in his pants pocket ruins the silhouette of the suit, and so would placing it in his chest pocket, even though the latter seems cool. He talked with the costume designers to add some sort of leather pouch (?) at his waist.

However, after putting the box in and out of the pouch so many times, the leather pouch worse out and became looser. In one performance, the box dropped to the floor sometime without his notice. ("Roll rolled." LOL)

During his fight with Genkishi, he stuck his hand in the pouch while talking and realized it wasn't there. He was like, Oh Shit, lmao. Then clumsily tried to hide the fact that he has no box by taking out his hand and only showing the back of it to the audience, lmao.

He watched a clip of that performance afterwards and learned that the box fell while he did a roundhouse kick.

Also, during the fight with Deisy, he can't see anything. The lights were so bright. When he twirls the handcuffs, it has to face a certain side so that the cuff would close, but sometimes it ends up facing the wrong side, so he has to twirl it back. However, it's hard to figure out if it's facing the right side or not because of the light, so he accidentally dropped the handcuffs once.

(There were actually a few fan reports saying that Kento seemed to drop his props often lol)

Q: Thoughts on Hibari unbuttoning his suit before fighting A: When raising your arm while wearing suits, the middle part scrunches open and he doesn't like that. He wants Hibari to look flawless, so he tried to make it part of the act to unbutton the suit.

He doesn't do this for the part where he trains Tsuna, since he doesn't want to make it like Hibari's doing it for appearances. He tries to make it seem like it's an act Hibari does when he expects a good fight.

Q: Any special training? A: He has a lower center of gravity because he played ice hockey seriously for 9 years. He's jealous of actors who took karate and dance since they are useful skills as an actor. He believes that playing ice hockey and balancing on ice skates really contributed to doing action scenes.

Q: Do you do any weight/muscle training? A: He used to go to the gym, but stopped because of covid. He apparently started classic ballet recently. He likes gaining strength without getting too bulked up. Before he hated wearing tight clothes, but now he has embraced it lmao

Q: Any KHR weapons he would like to try? A: He likes Japanese swords, so he likes Yamamoto's sword style.

When Chrome was handed the Devil Lens, he wondered how one would fight with it? How do you make it look like you use it often? Do you twirl it like a pen?

He's seen James' whip skills live during Secret Bullet and was very impressed that James was able to use them to the fullest. It's a weapon you can more easily hurt yourself with after all.

During rehearsals, there wasn't a center door to come out from, so he had to wait at the sides while Dino and Deisy were fighting. Hibari often comes out from the center door, so he calls Hibari a "Center Door Guy", lol.

Q: Judging from how fast you changed into the yukata during curtain call, are you the type of person who changes clothes fast? A: He has to change from suit to yukata in 1 minute and 30 seconds and be careful not to make Hibari look sloppy, so he was really worried about it... That's why you'd see him touching his collar from time to time.

Final Words

He asks fans to answer the Reborn! The Stage questionnaire and request for a rerun of the Future arc stage plays. They were able to change the future in Future arc, so he believes we can change the future in real life as well. A rerun isn't impossible in his opinion.

He'd love to livestream again sometime with others, like Daiki-kun (Glo Xinia/Dino), and Daiki-kun, and Daiki-kun.😂

[duskholland]

I’m just imaging walking into a room, already buzzed off the drinks and the lights dim and you think it’s Harry in the room and you’re like sick party h, everyone’s here. Tom Holland’s here he’s actually kinda hot in person lol and toms just like LMAO proceed, kinda hot huh??? Just letting you spill the tea and think he’s Harry 💀💀💀

hnnng he’d be so smug about it, I love it. this is inspired by those pics of harry styles on set looking very suspiciously similar to tom holland !! cw: alcohol. 

———

You should’ve known there’d be trouble the moment your gaze fell on the open bar that Harry had so generously provided. One drink turned to two, to three, to four, and now, as you walk through the spacious London apartment that your friend had rented to host his birthday party in, there’s a warm, tipsy spring to your step.

You’ve known Harry for years, best friends from high school. When his career had taken off, he’d brought you along for the ride. Over the years, you’ve worked at his side, switching between the role of his friend and stylist with ease. You weren’t surprised to receive the invitation to his party, but you had been intrigued when you’d taken a glance at the guest list and seen one particularly perplexing name printed: Tom Holland.

Harry doesn’t know Tom well, but what he does know is that you have a very large, very embarrassing crush on the man. You’ve never met him, but you’re definitely an admirer - a huge admirer. Knowing of your affinity for the actor, Harry’s gift to you in return for the years spent at his side appears to be this invitation, extended towards Tom under the guise of friendship from Harry, when really it’s just part of an elaborate matchmaking scheme devised by your best friend.

You couldn’t be mad if you tried. Any irritation you’d felt about the sneakiness of it all had melted away the second you’d seen Tom walk through the door.

Tom looks very handsome tonight, wrapped up in a pair of tight black jeans and a bright white t-shirt. Shrugged around his broad shoulders is a plaid shirt - blue, you think - and his chestnut hair messes in curls across his forehead. The moment you’d seen him enter, you’d turned around, heading off in search of a few drinks to loosen your tongue before you try to shoot your shot with your celebrity crush. This mission has led you here: surveying the room twenty minutes later, lower lip pulled between your teeth.

You can’t see Tom. As you narrow your eyes and glance around at the dark crowd of people, it’s hard to make out anyone in particular. A sigh slips past your lips, but then you see Harry, standing with his back to you in the corner, chatting with some friends. Deciding the man of the hour has a better chance of locating Tom than you, you set off across the apartment, muttering small apologies when you brush up against a few scattered people. Your head spins, dizzy from the alcohol and the buzz of the atmosphere, and you feel unbalanced as you move through the dim room.

“H!” You call out. You frown when there’s no response. “H?”

Sighing loudly, you move forward and wrap your arms around Harry, greeting him from behind with a hug, as you always do your best friend. He stiffens immediately, causing you to frown.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask. You place your chin on his shoulder, sighing contentedly for the rest. His brown curls brush against the side of your face. “Could you not hear me?”

“Love, I think-”

“-Anyway.” You’re too excited to hear what he has to say. “Why didn’t you tell me how hot Tom Holland was in person?”

There’s a moment of silence. Just as you go to look at him, Harry says, slowly, “Sorry?”

It’s loud in the room, and his voice sounds a little different, but you’re too eager to clock onto it properly.

“Tom Holland,” you repeat, closing your eyes and sighing dramatically. “He looks like a fucking god.”

“A god, eh?” Amusement hangs in his voice.

You hum. “So handsome.” You feign a swoon. “Anyway, I was trying to find him but I can’t see him anywhere. You’ve got to help me. You will, right? I mean, you invited him so you could set us up, but it’s not like that’s going to happen if I never have a conversation with him.”

“Very true.” He pauses before adding, slyly, “How long have you liked him?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you sigh. “Oh, forever,” you muse. “Since Spider-Man Homecoming. He’s just so…”

“Dreamy?” He offers.

“Yes.”

“Talented?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Hot?”

You snort. “Harry, you know I think he’s hot-” Your voice fades as you open your eyes and finally take a proper look at your surroundings. “Wait…”

With the dim lighting of the room and the general haze of alcohol and loud music, it would appear that you’d been mistaken as you’d approached Harry and wrapped your arms around him. Now, you find your eyes bulging as they land on Harry, halfway across the room, laughing loudly with an entirely different group of people.

So if it isn’t Harry that you’ve got your arms wrapped around and your chin resting on, who is it?

“Holy fuck-“

Your arms fall slack, and you step away immediately, embarrassment overwhelming you. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“-I am so sorry, I thought you were my friend.”

The man turns around to face you. “No problem, love.”

Your heart sinks to your feet as you stare at the man, jaw slackening as you’re filled with abhorrent shock. It’s Tom Holland.

It’s Tom Holland - with a very large, teasing smirk on his face that makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“Oh no,” you mutter, eyes wide. You feel like you’re on fire, burning with humiliation. “I am so sorry,” you say earnestly. You watch through wide eyes as Tom steps a little nearer, pushing one of his hands through his hair and rearranging the messy brown strands. “I had no idea.”

Now you have time to pause and think about it, it makes sense. Tom isn’t as wide as Harry, nor is he as tall, and he smells different, too. Huskier. Their voices are slightly different, as well. But you’d seen exactly what you’d wanted to see, and apparently shot yourself in the foot as you did so.

“It’s okay, I entertained it.” Tom bites at his lip, his eyes shifting over you, flittering briefly over your figure. “What’s your name, love?”

You swallow, tilting your head to the side as you notice the intrigue in his gaze and the way he seems to stand a little taller when you step nearer.

“Y/N.” You offer him a hand, smiling nervously. “I already know who you are, but I suppose you know that already.”

Tom side-steps your hand. He shifts one of his palms to your waist, the other resting loosely on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek gently. His lips are warm as they linger against your skin.

“Pleasure to meet you, darling,” Tom says, accent thick. When you drift closer to him, his hand on your shoulder drops down to your waist.

You look at him curiously, your heart beating differently for an entirely different reason now. Tom is very handsome, with those sparkly warm brown eyes. There’s a smile on his face that shows no sign of fading.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I know you, Harry Styles” Pt. 2

aka “You’re an Angel”

how harry always be lookin’ at you ^^

AHHH so I’m so glad I wrote a second part of this! It got to be much more enjoyable once I just starting writing what I wanted and not keeping with the original idea I had lol. - I hope y’all enjoy: give me feedback and also I’d love some requests :) 

Cannot believe I gave this a slight musical twist bahaha

Also more music was inspiring me to write (that’s usually how it goes) so main songs were: Besame Mucho - the beatles and Time of the Season - the zombies (both mentioned in the story but if you wanted to get ready lol

Word Count: 6.6k (lmao what is wrong with me) | Warnings: kissing, allusion to smut, mentions of covid/quarantine, a little self-doubt/allusion to insecurity, FLUFF

Part 1

-

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

His lips connected with yours. The kiss was chaste, but it felt so good. Your lips tugged slightly on his lower lip and Harry continued to kiss you. Then he gave you one more kiss that lingered on your lips, his lower lip slowly pulling itself over yours before he completely pulled away. The warmth of his lips remained on you even when he was gone, but you couldn’t help yourself from trying to tug him back down onto you.

-

You went to bed that night flustered, to say the least. You couldn’t shake the thought of what almost was down on that couch. It excited you, but it scared you a little too. You didn’t actually know this guy, even if he was famous Harry Styles. You wanted to get to know the actual person, Harry, before you did anything you might regret. It also scared you because this would eventually end. Your lives weren’t connected except for David and that was a rather loose connection. It wasn’t realistic to get involved with Harry, no matter how hot it felt to almost kiss him.

-

You woke up from the light flooding into your room, through the beautiful, yet impractical, sheer white curtains. You groaned, a slight grogginess from drinking last night. Then you remembered the events of last night, and you groaned louder. 

“Oh God,” you moaned to yourself in disbelief, before sliding out of the bed. You padded to the window and looked outside, the view from here was incredible, the city to your left, the vast hills to your right. This offered you some comfort. 

Then, you went over to the mirror in the corner of the room. Your hair was a mess from sleep, your eyes were drooping, and your clothes that you had slept in were askew. You rubbed your face with a single palm before setting out to the bathroom down the hall. You crept slowly, worrying you might run into Harry in your unideal state, which would make the events of last night all the more embarrassing. However, when you left the room, you heard music coming from downstairs and decided Harry was likely down there as well.

After the bathroom, you looked in your mirror once more. Your appearance was far more uniform now, even if you were still in your sleepwear. Harry still hadn’t learned what quarantine was so you were assuming he’d be in some nice outfit. You didn’t know what would be worse, going down in the oversized t-shirt you had worn to sleep last night or getting dressed like you actually had something to do today - when you didn’t. You decided to go with the easiest option, go with what you got. You added shorts underneath the shirt for some coverage and ventured downstairs.

There, the music became clearer to you. The Beatles’ rendition of “Besame Mucho” had just begun and Paul’s voice was extra sultry in it. You loved this song and you almost ceased to exist when you saw a shirtless Harry singing animatedly to it as he made himself cereal. 

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Harry. He had begun to sing to his cereal box when it had started, but he looked at you directly when he realized you were there. The way he sang out, “Besame, Besame mucho,” similar to Paul, was full of sexual yearning. 

His tone made you feel something deep inside, but it also made you feel like you were right where you were last night. But it was morning now, no wine to blame. Just the two of you with your eyes locked and Harry singing “kiss me, kiss me a lot.” The two minute song seemed to last forever. However, when it finally ended, Harry released you from his stare. You were in disbelief that the tension from last night had been so quick to pop up this morning.

“Lovely song,” Harry threw out as he passed by you and went somewhere else to enjoy his cereal. You stood there, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. You shook yourself out of it and went to prepare your own breakfast.

Finding all the ingredients for your breakfast smoothie, you blended them up, poured it into a glass, cleaned up and headed out into the house. Slightly in search of you entrancing roommate, but also interested in taking advantage of all the space this house provided. 

Harry was sitting in a different sitting room than the one from last night. You were happy with the change in scenery, not wanting any more reminders of last night. This room was smaller than the other, but it had a cute, little fireplace and you could imagine nights of laughing around the crackling fire, snuggled up next to someone you loved. You pushed the thought from your mind, knowing you didn’t have someone to snuggle with.  

Harry had transferred his music to this room's bluetooth system and a random playlist was on, you assumed. He was happily chowing on his cereal when you entered and you smiled sheepishly at him. You crossed to the empty spot on the couch, the furthest one from his toned, tattooed, naked torso. 

He raised his brows at your presence. “Hey,”  you said, you had no clue what else you could say. “Hey,” he echoed in response. Silence. God, this is awkward, you thought. How could you have gone and screwed this up already? You mentally facepalmed.

Harry broke the silence, “Any plans for today?”

“Ah no, David doesn’t really have anything for me to do right now, but,” you stopped for a second to sip on your smoothie, “I think I’m going to take Checkers out on a walk at some point.”

Harry perked up at the mention of Checkers, “Let me know when, I’d love to get some fresh air and play with Checkers, too.” 

You nodded, knowing the conversation was ending already and you’d go back to the awkward silence.

-

Harry and you went your separate ways again after breakfast. 

At around 3, you decided it’d be a good time to walk Checkers so you grabbed one of his leashes and searched the house for the dog. In the living room, from last night, you found Harry, laying on his stomach, with his arms around the tiny pup, snuggling him and whispering to him. 

You heard one snippet: “You’re such a cute lil’ baby, aren’t you? I love you,” he cooed to the dog below him. Your smile made an appearance on your face.

Clearing your throat, you notified Harry of your presence. 

Harry flitted his gaze up to you standing behind him, brows raised once again. “I thought we could go for the walk, if you’re still interested,” you said, holding up the leash. 

Harry jumped to his feet and thought better of making a comment about who the leash was for. Instead he said, “Yeah, thanks for letting me tag along.” 

“Of course.” You leashed up Checkers and went for the front door.

“Actually,” Harry’s words stopped you, “do you think we could go out the back gate?” 

You stood there slightly confused, you knew there was a path from the back, but you preferred walking to a patch of grass that required you to go out the front door. 

“Um,” you started, not particularly wanting to change your plan. 

Harry elaborated, “It’s just, I’d prefer no pap photos and the back walk is much more private.” 

You understood his preference and you knew you didn’t want to be part of a twitter storm of “Who is that with Harry Styles!” and you, even more, didn’t want to be part of the twitter storm that followed the first: the deep dive into your life and then whatever terrible thing they decided to say about you afterwards.

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t want that either.” You switched courses and Checkers was roaring to go, prancing and yipping excitedly. 

Harry mulled over what you said, he was, on one hand, glad you weren’t eager to be seen with him, but he also felt another feeling, possibly rejection, on the other hand, that you didn’t want to be seen with him. He didn’t know why he felt that, especially because he had been the one to bring it up.

-

Once out on the path, you actually let Checkers off his leash, he knew to stay close and since you weren’t walking next to streets you didn’t have to worry about cars. 

That left you and Harry to walk beside each other while Checkers went around exploring and sniffing everything. It felt weird to have your hands next to each other yet not touching as you walked. The path was wide enough for the proximity of your bodies to not be as they were, but for some reason you and Harry had decided to walk within touching distance.

Harry wasn’t one for silence, you were beginning to realize, as he always seemed to be the first to fill it whenever it fell between the two of you. 

First, he commented on Checkers and how smart of a dog he was for how small he was. You responded with something about how looks can be deceiving, even with dogs. Harry laughed. Silence. Then, he commented on the nature around the two of you and how beautiful it was. You only said “I love it.” Silence. 

Harry was at a roadblock, mentally, there were no roadblocks on the path. The three of you had been walking for ten minutes and you had only said about ten words. Last night had been so fun for him and then you ran off and he felt like it all had been ruined. Now, today the two of you had been walking on eggshells around one another.

He thought back to last night and ran through the list of things the two of you had meshed on. There was actually quite a bit and he was determined to get back to the ease of conversation that had occurred between you two last night. Finally he had it. Travel.

“If you had to live in one country for the rest of your life, where would you go,” he paused, “And why!” 

“Did you just pull out an icebreaker on me?” you asked, incredulous at the man walking beside you. 

You had been content with the silence, but obviously had to bite at his question. It was a good question. 

“I have no idea what that is,” Harry shrugged, crossing his arms nonchalantly. Your face turned to him and you couldn’t help your laughter. You could tell he was trying to be cute - and it was working. 

You thought about his question for a moment.

“Am I able to travel still or am I required to stay in that one country at all times?” “You have to stay there at all times, but you can travel to different places in the country.” 

You hummed at his response. “Alright,” you began, “Do you want to hear my thought process?” 

Harry nodded eagerly, “Please.”

You knew you talking more would make him happy and honestly you were happy to oblige. As awkward as you felt after last night, you knew you had to shake it off. You were both adults, Harry probably has kissed plenty of his friends and it's been nothing, you sure had. You could’ve been another name on each other’s list of friends you’ve kissed. It was hard for you to think of a reason as to why it had been so daunting for you to face Harry today.

“Ok, so the smart choice for a travel happy person would be the United States because it is very large and you could travel around within the country to different places.” 

Harry looks at you, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “Uh-huh,” he encouraged you to continue. 

“But, honestly I’ve always wanted to get out of this country. So then my next idea was Japan because while it may be small, I love it there and everyone is wonderful. It’s just this awesome place.” 

Harry’s smile was now an entire grin, he loved how animated you had become. “But?” 

You laughed at the fact that he already knew what you were going to say. “Exactly, but! I don’t know the language, so I would have to spend a long time learning it either there or here first and as you get older, picking up a language is hard, and Japanese is a complicated language even if you are young.” 

Harry nodded, again. This time you needed no verbal encouragement to keep going, travel excited you.

“Final answer,” you said, tone dire, like you were on a game show about to win the big money prize. 

“Final answer,” Harry echoed. 

He had flipped around and was walking backwards, you had no idea why, but he had wanted to get a better look at your face. It had lit up while talking and he just wanted to memorize the twinkle in your eye. 

“France. It’s relatively large - with cities, coasts, and countryside. It's wonderful, filled with beautiful art and history. I speak the language already, and even though the French can be a little mean, I, also, in fact, can be a little mean.” 

Harry bit back his laugh and clapped his hands.

“Wonderful answer, Ms. ...,” He paused, confusion filling his face, “I actually never got your last name, Y/N.” 

“Oh,” you said before quickly telling him your last name, then he repeated his praise, adding it to the end. 

You smiled back at him, feeling pride for your answer even if it was something silly. Harry made you feel extremely special. It was almost like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. 

You jumped a bit to get back in pace with him and he turned back around. 

“What about you, Mr. Styles, where would you go if you could only live in one place for the rest of your life?” You nudged his exposed arm, the one that wasn’t covered in tattoos - just the eagle, as you repeated his question.

He sighed and looked at the sky, thinking for a moment. 

“Are people allowed to visit me?” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“Sure, it’s not like you’re dropping off the face of the earth, people would know where you’ve gone,” you said. 

“But you wouldn’t be able to visit me?” Harry followed up. 

You responded to Harry with a question. “In this scenario are we both moving to places that we are never able to leave?” 

He shrugged, looking to you for the answer since he had asked the initial question that had complicated the scenario. 

You huffed and then took it upon yourself to decide. “Ok, so anyone who is not in a similar agreement as the one we have entered into in the scenario is allowed to visit you. So as long as your mum doesn’t enter into an agreement where she moves to one country for the rest of her life - that isn’t the same as the one you pick-  then she can still visit you.” 

Harry nods and snorts a little at how much you had just said in one breath. “Still no you though?” he teased. 

“No me,” you confirmed, smiling that he was considering you in the scenario, even if it wasn’t plausable thing at all. Like you said, he made you feel special.

“Ok, well,” Harry finally began his answer, “I like France.” 

He continued to look at you, but you knew he wasn’t done. “And I’m glad you cleared up the mum thing, because that would’ve probably swayed me back to England.” 

He chuckled at himself, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and whisper a little laughing “Shut up.” 

He went on, “I like the idea of Japan or Italy as well, but I don’t know the languages there either. I don’t know, even with my Mum still able to visit me, I just love my home.” 

You bit your lip, that might just be the cutest thing in the world. 

“I love traveling around, I do. But, I want to go live in the English countryside some day. Have a little farm and a little family. We could go into the city if we needed, but it’d be a quiet little life and it’d be all mine. So, if I could only live in one country for the rest of my life it’d have to be England.” 

You blinked and smiled softly at the sentiment. He described something so beautiful and the way he said it, he sounded so sincere - he’d obviously thought about the idea before - settling in the English countryside with a family.

“That makes sense,” you started, your voice low, just above a whisper. 

Harry must have thought he detected some sadness in your voice because he was quick to say, “Technically, you know, the English Channel is half English territory and half French. So if we wanted to see each other, we could take boats out and meet in the middle,  without leaving our respective countries.” 

You threw your head back in laughter, but then you stopped in your tracks. You turned to your right and went off the path to a little patch of flowers you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. Your body crouched and picked one of the taller wildflowers. 

Harry had followed after calling to Checkers, letting the dog know of your pause in the walk. He and the dog came up to you. You turned your body back to Harry who was watching you intently. 

“We could see each other,” you looked at him and extended the long flower to him. “But we wouldn’t be able to touch,” you studied him carefully, he was like a puzzle - and you weren’t very good at puzzles, “Not without breaking the rules of our agreements.” 

Harry delicately touched the opposite end of the flower between you. His eyes flickered between the flower and your face. He smirked, “It’s a good thing that none of it’s real, then.” 

He plucked the flower from you with one hand and grabbed your now empty hand with his other. He spun you around and your laughter came out a little high pitched from the surprise of his actions. 

“Harry!” you exclaimed, you loved his spontaneity, but you felt like you couldn’t show just how much you really enjoyed what he was doing. He was still spinning you until he extended his arm and you thought it was the end. Until he tugged you and you spun right into his chest, leaving you wrapped up in his arm and staring at his face right above yours. 

As you worked to catch your breath, you placed a hand on his chest. You could feel his heart beating below your hand, it was practically in sync with yours. Harry didn’t know that though and he feared you’d think his heart was racing unreasonably. Your smile calmed him down as you continued to stare adoringly up at him. It was nice to be held so close. He was so warm and soft.

“Can you not run away this time?” His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious. His jaw flexed beneath his skin as his eyes squinted slightly at you. 

“I’m sorry?” you licked your lips. You didn’t understand his question. 

“Can you not run away before I can kiss you,” he repeats. Oh, you thought.

“Harry…” you trailed off, conflicted. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted him to just lean down and take your breath away with the touch of his lips. 

“Just let me kiss you, please,” he was begging. Why did he have to beg? And give you that look that made you want to melt into him? 

“We barely know each other,” you finally get out. It pained you to even put your thoughts into words. 

“So what?” It was more of a statement, than a question when it came from Harry’s lips.

You realized he had a little clip on the top of his head, pulling back his curls. He still managed to look despicably handsome. He reached a hand to curl a strand of your hair between his fingertips. You sighed. Your eyes faltered from the hold his eyes had been keeping, his dimple making an appearance as he smiled sweetly down at you. You could tell that he knew what he was doing to you.

“Wanted to kiss you so bad last night,” Harry continued when he realized you hadn’t formed any words in the last minute. 

He began to sway the pair of you slightly in the March breeze. You couldn’t stop your tongue from darting out and wetting your lips at his words. His eyes trained on your face of course didn’t miss the small movement. He only blinked. 

“I wanted you to,” you said, still unsure of yourself, “I still want you to.” 

His hand in your hair moved to the shell of your ear and trailed lazily onto your jaw. “Then I can kiss you,” he stated, but his voice faltered giving away that he was still a little uncertain. 

You put pressure into the hand on his chest, “I’d say you’d have to make me dinner first, but you already did that.” He raised his brows at your change in tone, your words sounding slightly more flirtatious. 

You knew what you wanted and hell, maybe this would be the two most fun weeks of your lives. 

He leaned down to meet his lips with yours. Softly, your mouths danced together. You pushed your lips into his and his brushed against yours expertly. His pink lips were soft and you felt his bits of chin and mustached scruff on your skin. It all felt amazing. His mouth practically engulfed yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

Your body responded by pressing closer and humming a slight moan of satisfaction. Harry liked what he heard. Eventually you both had to come up for air, unbeknownst to your counterparts, both of you had asthma and this hot kiss had taken away your breath a little more than you’d like to admit. 

You pulled away from Harry a bit, but he kept his arm around you. “Seems like a good end to the walk, yeah?” Harry asks you. You bit down on your lip and nodded. Checkers had stayed close throughout your whole ordeal, thankfully, but it seemed like he was ready to go back home as well.

-

Back at the house, Harry and you flowed so much better now. Whether it was the chatting or the kiss, it didn’t matter. 

You planned for dinner again, deciding on take out, talked about watching a movie tonight, and then occupied yourselves with various random thoughts. 

Whenever you were in reach, Harry had his hands all over you. You weren’t complaining. You liked having him close to you. His skin was fiery while his rings somehow managed to maintain a coolness about them. 

The two of you settled in the back room with Checkers. You laid on the couch, while Harry was on his back, on the ground with Checkers laying on his chest. He lazily ran his hand through the dog’s fur, his other hand was extended up and you held his large hand in yours. 

Harry had insisted on being the music player for the evening. It had prompted the discussion of music selection switching between the two of them every day, which was reasonable. It wasn’t too awful, Harry and you had similar tastes in music and it was only one day if one of you wasn’t loving the choices being made on your off day. You liked the simplicity of it all.

Over the speakers, “Time of the Season” by the Zombies began to play. You started moving your head side to side to the beat. Harry began singing the main verse. Then you both sang out “it’s the time of the season for loving” not fully grasping at the meaning behind the words. 

Harry shifted as the music played so he was sitting at eye level with you. Your face turned to meet his and he smiled as he sang, “What’s your name?” And you giggled and pushed his shoulder. He stayed right where he was, leaning in closer. 

You spoke the next verse, “Who’s your Daddy?” while looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at this, there was no other word for what you had just done to him, it was simply hot. 

He tried to grab for you, but you pulled away and sat up, still singing the song. “Is he rich like me?” You caricatured yourself as if you were a wealthy woman on a yacht, flipping your hair and fanning yourself, and finished with a bite to your lip. 

Harry followed you up, taking over control of the lyrics, “Has he taken any time?” While he sang he pushed you softly into the back cushions, “to show you.” He pulled his body up over yours, face skimming over the front of your body, then when his face was at the shell of your ear he whispered, “what you need to live?”

You let out a shaky breath. His whisper against you sent sparks tingling straight to your core. He was pressed against you, waiting for you to make a move. The song and performance the two of you had begun was forgotten. You turned your head towards him and he moved to face you.

“Hi,” you giggled and brushed your nose against his.

“You’re an angel.”

“Oh?”

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met. Only makes sense that you’re an angel.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Down boy! Don’t go writing an album about me.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and he looked at you with slightly squinted eyes. Then he smirked, sneakily, “I just might! I can see it already: Quarantine Angel the Album.”

“You already have a song called ‘Only Angel’ and she was your ‘only’ one so you can’t have another angel?” You tried to sound logical, but you were playing with him and had to try to hide your growing smile.

“Ah-ha!” Harry jumped up at your words and pulled you up with him. This left the two of you standing chest to chest, his hands now taking up residence on your waist. “You are a fan, I knew it!”

“That proves nothing!” You tried to break away from his grasp, but he refused to let you go. Your body twisted in his grasp so that your back was now against his chest and he was hunched over you slightly, trying to keep you from running away.

He scoffed, “C’mon that’s one of my least streamed songs and it’s off my first album. You obviously listen to my music, Y/N!” 

You didn’t dignify his remark with a response. You continued to wriggle in his grasp, but you actually were quite happy in his arms. 

“You can say you listen to my music, angel, won’t make me like you any less,” He smirked down at you.  

“You really are a narcissist,” you muttered under your breath. 

“What was that, angel?” He moved his head around to try and see your face. You huffed, it was clear he wasn’t going to stop with the pet name now that he had it. “Did you say I really am an amazing artist?” 

You finally wriggled yourself from his grasp and turned to face him, “No, I said you really are a narcissist.” 

Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line as you smirked at him. His mouth then shifted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. 

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. You’re not an angel. More like an evil nymph.” 

“Why not just make me a demon?” You teased. 

He was backing you up into the wall as you continued to talk. “You’re sexier than a demon,” he replied like it was common sense. 

“Oh, alright.” 

Harry pressed up against you, your back on the wall, his hands back on your body. “See,” he whispered, “That right there. Who responds to someone telling them they're sexy with ‘alright’?”

“I don’t know,” your blush crept up your neck, suddenly feeling much more shy. Harry caressed your cheek, urging you to make eye contact with him. It was hard, but you obliged.

“I don’t usually receive comments like that.”

“But you’re stunning, angel?”

“Thought I was an evil nymph…”

“‘M not calling you an evil nymph, as a petname, you’re so weird.”

“You said it first, not me. But, seriously, I’m not usually one who receives constant attention - like that…”

“That,” Harry paused, nibbling his lower lip, “makes no sense to me. I find you unbelievably attractive and then your personality makes you all the more amazing.”

You continued to blush at his praise. “That,” you poked a finger into the center of his chest, punctuating your words, “is because you're able to find the good bit in everyone that makes them attractive. Plus, most people find my personality to be rather...off-putting.”

Harry tilted his head at your response, the playful conversation had quickly turned serious. “How do you know I always see the good in people?”

“We’ve already been over this, I know you, Harry, you’re a kind person. You do good by others, even if they don’t always do good by you,” you looked at him meaningfully, you wanted him to know that was a good way to be.

“I can be mean sometimes, unkind, angry, jealous, spiteful, all of it. I’m human, Y/N. I like you, not because I like everyone I meet, but because of who you are. Who you’ve shown me you are.” His eyes were looking intently back at you and you thought you might melt. “Your personality is refreshing, it’s real and honest. Anyone who doesn’t like it just doesn’t like being challenged.”

Your eyes faltered from meeting Harry’s gaze. Your hand on his chest fiddled with his cross pendant. 

He was wearing a white tank beneath an open short sleeve white button down. It was clean and refreshing. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing come out of his mouth. Like his shirt, it was refreshing to hear someone speak so kindly of you, even though you barely knew one another. It felt so good.

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him. 

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.” 

His lips connected with yours. The kiss was chaste, but it felt so good. Your lips tugged slightly on his lower lip and Harry continued to kiss you. Then he gave you one more kiss that lingered on your lips, his lower lip slowly pulling itself over yours before he completely pulled away. The warmth of his lips remained on you even when he was gone, but you couldn’t help yourself from trying to tug him back down onto you. You whined a bit, pulling on his open shirt.

“You’re an amazing kisser, by the way,” you said quietly. Harry chuckled at your words and how you sounded so timid. 

“Next you’re gonna tell me you’ve never been properly snogged.” 

You disregarded his words, not trying to make yourself sound pathetic, that yes, no one had ever kissed you like Harry did.

“And I’m sorry I boxed you in before. I know you’re human and you have a full range of emotions. It’s unfair of me to say I know you, when I so clearly don’t.”

“Hey, hey, no. I know that’s not what you were saying. I just wanted to show you that I’m not perfect and I have my fair share of critics. Doesn’t mean I’m any less worthy of being treated well. Same goes for you. That was what I was trying to show you.” He wrapped you in his arms and you sighed content to rest your head on his chest and be engulfed by him.

“I want you to believe me when I say you’re an angel,” he kissed the top of your head. “And stunning,” he continued, kissing you again. “And sexy…” he trailed off, stroking your hair. You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest.

-

The two of you spent the rest of your day together, cuddled on the couch talking and flicking through the various streaming services David had, never able to settle on anything. For dinner, you decided on Chinese takeout and you ate it on the couch.

After you both were satisfied, you leaned into Harry’s side and he extended an arm around your shoulder. You placed one of your arms over his stomach and circularly rubbed him over his butterfly tattoo. You also threw one leg over his lap so your entire body was pressed against his. Harry liked the feel of your body on his, so he adjusted his arm to pull you flush against him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked. Harry nodded. “Ideas?” He laughed before saying, “Earlier when we were singing Time of the Season, made me feel like I was in a musical.” You echoed his laughter as you looked up at him from your spot on his chest. “Mamma Mia?” You suggested. “Love that one.” “It’s probably on one of these apps?” You scrowled through until you found it for free and flicked it on.

The two of you settled again, pressing closer even if there was nowhere closer to go. It just felt good to feel Harry’s body against yours. Warm and strong, yet soft. You both sang softly to the songs in the beginning, but you loved hearing Harry’s voice so much that you stopped singing along by the third song. You laughed along to the antics of the characters, but you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he would sing. He mostly kept his eyes on the screen, but would sometimes flicker them down to your face and smile dopily at you.

You fiddled with his necklace again when you would watch the scenes go by. You’d also comment on what was going on, you were never able to sit quietly during a movie or show, you liked to talk about it too much. Harry didn’t seem to mind, saying something if your comment warranted a response.

When ‘Our Last Summer’ started, Harry began to sing again and you motioned between Colin Firth on the screen and Harry. You said, “Harry and Harry.” He laughed while he continued to sing, the words slightly hiccuping due to his laughter. His soothing voice overpowered the three men, who weren’t actually that good of singers, despite him not trying to sing very loud at all. Then, you had to sing, “And your name is Harry!” when it came around. All Harry did was tap your nose and smile down at you. He wanted to tease you, but he liked how sweet you were being with him.

You continued to watch and about half way through the movie you shifted your spot so your face was in line with his. “You really are an amazing singer Harry, like to hear you right in my ear - it’s like magic.” Harry shook his head and grinned. “You’re too sweet to me, angel. Thought you said you weren’t going to give me special treatment.”

You pecked his cheek and bucked your head softly against his, similar to a cat. “It’s different now.” “I know,” he trailed off again. The pair of you turned your focus back to the screen, finishing the movie with some more side comments and kisses throughout.

When it ended, you yawned slightly, “I forgot how long it was.” Harry nodded his agreement. You began to sit up, but Harry pulled you back into him. A sigh left your mouth as you were able to explain how you wanted to upstairs and get ready for bed. “I just want to keep snuggling, angel, you’re so warm.”

“Harry, I need to go to bed.”

“Then sleep with me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sleep with me in my room. You’re such a child, Y/N.”

“Says the one who won’t let me get up and go to sleep just because he wants to keep cuddling,” you gave him a shake of your head with squinted eyes.

“Look, I can guarantee you will enjoy it. I’m a very gentle man in my sleep.”

You threw your head back, still in slight disbelief of the situation you currently found yourself in. Cooped up in a house with Harry and no one else - besides the dog - the end nowhere in sight, since the news kept telling you how dire the situation was, and him constantly flirting with you. Not to mention the casual kissing that always seemed like it was on the verge of going somewhere else. You had no idea what sleeping in the same bed as him might bring. Sure, you didn’t know each other all too well, but look at him, he was gorgeous and if he wanted you, you were definitely not opposed to giving yourself to him.

You blew the air out of your nose and looked back at him. “Fine,” Harry lit up at your words, “But, you have to go let me brush my teeth and change.”

“I can agree to those terms.”

Then the two of you set off upstairs, Harry practically dragging you by the arm. But the smile never left your face. Checkers had gone to bed hours ago in the den, he preferred to sleep downstairs.

Once you were ready, you headed down the hall to Harry’s room. You admittedly had done a bit more than just change and brush your teeth - full skin care, reapplication of deodorant and some lotion, you didn’t want to smell gross when you were sleeping in the same bed as him.

He’d left the door slightly ajar, but you still decided it was polite to knock. “Come in,” he called, he was already in bed. You stepped into the room in some sleep shorts and a shirt that ended below the shorts, meaning you appeared to be only in the shirt. The room was dimly lit and you scurried to the bed. Harry sat up and dangled his legs off the bed when you came over. You stood in between his legs as he looked at you, running his hand over your face. You loved when he touched you, even in the simplest of ways.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into his lap and you straddled him daintily. Your thighs rested on his and you felt his hands move to cradle your round bottom. He shuffled the two of you back so he was resting against the bedpost. Your hands rested on his chest so that your fingertips fell into the dips of his collarbones.

He was only wearing boxers and you had to remind yourself to keep your eyes at his neck or above. The tiger on his left thigh was almost fully visible and you just wanted to trace it with your mouth. He kneaded your cheeks slightly and you jerked your body forward into him in response. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re very...responsive.”

“Harry,” you practically whimpered.

You knew where he was going and like you said, you wanted to go there with him, but you could feel your exhaustion wearing on you.

“Can we wait?” You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m so tired and I know that it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us if I wasn’t fully into it.”

You took a hand and ran it through his locks, he sighed at your touch. He moved his hands up to your waist and rubbed up and down softly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just look at you and I just want to kiss every inch.”

You took one leg from around his waist so that the two of you could settle in for sleep.

“Same here,” you laughed quietly.

He gave you one last searing kiss before you fell asleep.

“Goodnight, angel.”

-

Tag list: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, @mellamolayla, @chillingbythesea, @thatgirlwithcamera, @reidsmemory, @socialfake, @harrxier, @imagine-that-1975

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

~

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

~

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

[a-dumb-simp]

How the obey me brothers + Arcana would react to a dancer gn mc

> The Arcana + Obey me

Regular and competition hc

This is purely self indulgent because I dance lmao <3

> I matched up different styles to different people based on what they would be most interested in!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

^ this is so long and I’m sorry but I’m on mobile so I can’t put a read more :( I love u <3

Ballet

Lucifer

He found out you did Ballet when he looked through your profile for the exchange program

He was interested but waited until you wanted to tell him to ask anything

He loves to watch you stretch and if you convince him well enough he might join you some nights and morning

It's part of your guys routine

His brothers must never know

You convinced him to finally do a partner dance with you

Him in a Ballet leotard and black legginging

His brothers are going insane but his glares still give them chills

Makes a room for you guys to practice with mirrors and ballet bars set up

Will spin you and then dip you

Kisses in the middle of dances all the time

Becomes a lot more flexible and doesn't know what to do with it

You teach him all the French Ballet terms and sometimes use it as inside jokes cause no one else can understand ”dance talk”

Cuddles in between fun practices :))

He's soft for you

Asra

He knew you did ballet before the incident

Afterwards he helps teach you again

Has to teach himself the moves and terminology first so now he gets to dance with you

Loves teaching you small bits of French when you learn to talk again so it's easier to understand ballet

Once you remember the both of you go to masquerades and do partner dances in the ballroom

Nadia loves watching the both of :)

You try to teach Muriel and it goes awful but Asra finds it adorable

He teaches you slowly and you learn to be a dancer again thanks to him <3

Contemporary

Belphie

He was napping the first time he heard you jumping around

He looked up curiously to find you practising a sequence

Almost asked you what you were doing but instead went back to sleep

Woke up again and saw you in a butterfly jump

You heard him rustling around and got excited!!

You can finally show him what you had choreographed!!

He watched you do a routine with a sleepy smile

Afterwards he'll applaud and let you curtsy towards him

Acts like he's throwing roses to you (plz pretend you caught one in your mouth)

He loves watching you dance

It's soothing to him honestly and if he's ever in a bad mood he’ll ask you to dance for him

Muriel

He found out through Asra that you liked to dance

He found you one day in the garden outside the hut practising grande jetes

You looked like a little fairy jumping around the in the forest

He honestly fell in love again

He sat down with Inanna and watched you for a good hour

Loves seeing your face light up when you finally nail doing your firebird

Will walk up to you and and tell you how beautiful you looked dancing

Scared you a bit!

He's v sorry :(

You just looked so focused he doesn't want to interrupt you!

Hip-hop

Mammon

Found you practising moves after school

You were playing music in your headphones and couldn't hear a damn thing

He just watched you for a bit until he felt the need to cause mischief >:)

He grabbed your waist as you were about to do a move and your hips went back towards his

-0-

He's a blush mess now and so are you, you compose yourself better than him tho

He didn't realise what you were dancing to at first so he begs you to play the music without headphones

As soon as it starts playing he can't take his eyes off you

He has little hearts shining in his eyes and is a blush mess but at the same time proud of you

Please teach him some moves

This man can sway and shake his hips-

Show him how to dance in different styles

wacking would be just favourite, the mix of pop with a subtle sway is perfect

Both of you doing duets

Please recreate dirty dancing scenes with him, he’ll die happy

Lucio

He's in the ballroom when he sees you

You and Portia we're just messing around and she found out you had danced before you came to Vesuvia and she immediately asked you to teach her

His heels made so much damn noise there was no way you couldn't hear him

Portia took her leave after blushing and left him staring at you

Deciding to be a bit bold you continued the combo

Leaning down to the floor and dragging your hands up your body slowly while continuing eye contact

He's a blushing mess

He may seem like a dominate tall leader but. You make him especially weak

He's begging to learn how to strut

You pull out his pairs of highest heels and go walking through the castle

He's surprisingly good at it, maybe a bit too good

His balance isn't the best but his confidence makes up for it

If he falls he's taking you down with him though so watch out

Tap

Leviathan

He found a video of anime characters dancing to song and saw someone recreate it with tap shoes

He found it so cool and shoved his phone toward you to show you

You quietly goggles and said you would be right back

He was a bit disappointed you didn't have a reaction to the video but he let it go for now

When you came back he looked up and saw the same style of shoes in your hands

He jumped up and yelled that you had to learn the dance!!

Oh you will, but he's using your spare pair of shoes to do it too

He's of course on board, dancing and anime with you!! of course he loves it

The other brothers not so much, the constant noise forced you guys to learn it outside

Levi was clumsy and not forceful enough to truly make sounds but he had the right spirit

You're both giggling and out of breath when he gets the idea to upload the video

Mammon and Belphie are both already making fun of you guys in the morning

Portia

She was so excited to come home and see you with a tap board laid down and playing a metronome

You were so distracted you didn't see her looking at you with stars in your eyes

She closed the door and you still didn't look over

She finally had to walk over and grab your hand

You were so concentrated as you were mastering doing a switching pullback without moving

You completely fell

You forgot to tape the bottoms of your shoes and slipped when she tapped you

She quickly pulled you up and made you sit on the couch

She's apologizing but you assure her she's fine, she's just mumbling about how powerful and focused you looked

She loves seeing you so passionate about something <3

Pointe

Satan

Satan had read about traditional French and Russian ballets at some point probably has seen a recreation of a Christmas classic dance at some point

So when he was in your room reading and saw your first pair of shoes tied up he asked about them

You showed him how they bent and about how the shank was dead but they were your first pair and it was sentimental so you kept them

He went with you to get fitted for a new pair and even paid for them just to see you dance

As soon as you got home he asked you to show him some basics

He had seen enough dances to know how to twirl you and you let him

He held you and you taught him how to do partner work

It becomes a regular thing

The brothers find you guys in the living room one day, him in a leotard and tights and you in a leo and a pancake skirt

They all watched as he completed a lift with you

Please convince him to try pointe

He learns fast so pre-pointe isn't really and issue and he has good balance

You eventually both learn multiple traditional combinations and show off

He's so glad he asked about your old pair of shoes

Nadia

She found out you did some sort of balance-related sport as soon as she saw how you carried yourself

She knows from having to learn how to walk elegantly and from dance lessons how the two are related

She just flat out asked you

You told her you did pointe and for once you didn't have to explain it to someone using the term ”toe-shoes”

She took ballroom lessons as a child and then went on the learn some other styles as well

She never did try pointe but she knew what it was

She took you to get handcrafted and fitted Russian pointes

You showed her different moves in French and she taught you the same terminology in Russian (she knew both)

It was fun honestly, she could relate more than anyone to learning

She taught you styles of dance she learned and in return you put on shows in pointe shoes just for her

She loves watching the control you had over your body and the concentrated faces you made

Jazz/Mucial Theatre

Asmodeus

This man lives for drama

As soon as you told him you did musical theatre dances he was in love all over again

He loves helping you come up with ideas for dances

He will ABSOLUTELY do a duet with you

You have to perform in front of the brothers

Diavolo has you both be entertainment for his parties

He's so enthusiastic about this

Please let him do dramas with you

He can't act for shit but it's still so funny

There's really no dancing happening more just over exaggerated falling into each others arms

Julian

We already know he's been in plays and acted in theatres

So that night he had acted as himself when he accidently fell onto stage you told him you danced

He's already dragging you to dance on the tables at the bar

Everyone drunk and clapping for you and you get free drinks for the entertainment

He's also making you come to be in theatre with him

Please indulge him in this

Your both getting ”made fun of” by Asra but he truly finds you both adorable

You put on shows for Nadia and the staff and Portia is crying by the end of it

Julian completely falling into your arms and taking you down with him

This man forgets his height

Demands to be the damsel in distress

Please be his knight in shining armour

Acro/Lifts

Beel

This man-

Get him to lift you please

He’s absolutely strong enough to lift you over his head

Dirty dancing lifts that Mammon can’t do lmao

He loves watching you stretch before and he starts stretching with you too

You guys work out together to build strength

He uses you as a weight honestly

You both scare the other demons in the gym

(Mostly him but like seeing a tiny human being able to keep up with a demon is also a bit terrifying)

Protein shakes together!

The other boys will come down to the kitchen to see you both in workout gear and happily talking and wonder how the hell you're both this excited in the morning

He loves watching you concentrate and enjoying it with you when you finally land a move

The first time you successfully did your arial he was so proud

The first time you fell doing a trick he was so worried

He learns to spot you from then on

Please lift him, he loves it

FAUST <3

She’s so excited!!!

Her human can do tricks

Likes wrapping around you while u stretch

STRECTHES WITH YOU

She sits in blanket forts and watches you

Sits on your head while your balancing

Emotional support <3

She loves you so much

💘💖💗💘💞💖💓💝💕💖💓💘

[captainsimagines]

Titanic || H.S

Part Six || “The Heart of the Ocean”

Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures I use for title cards. Obviously. 

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

A/N: Sorry for a late update. I do plan on finishing this series lmao, enjoy! 

“Did you… did you break something on the ship? ‘Cause if you did I’m sorry but I’m for sure going to pretend that I don’t know you.”

     The cold wind seemed to nip at your skin harsher than when you were standing over the railing, and perhaps it was because a major red blush was currently tainting your cheeks. A negative one - not pleasurable.

Either you could brush this whole incident off like it hadn’t happened, or you could come up with your best excuse as to why you were so flustered. You knew what the crew was currently wondering, as was your disturbed fiance and his friendly detective, George. For the slightest instant you imagined what Cal would do or say if you revealed the truth of your midnight endeavor, but you quickly erased the images as they were all so tempting to make you climb back over the railing. 

All this time your savior was being dragged onto his two feet, being thrown from crew member to crew member in such a rough manner that it made you uncomfortable. The air was causing a sort of fogginess to your hearing, but you quickly snapped out of it when Cal began insulting him. 

“What makes you think you could put your hands on my fiance?” Cal questioned, stepping towards Harry and grabbing his chin to raise his face. You held the itchy blanket tighter against your shoulders as you stepped forward. “Answer me, you filth!”

“Cal, stop! Stop it!” you begged, quickly transitioning from a tone of hysteria to one of more confidence. “It was an accident!”

Cal stumbled a bit on his heels, wondering if he had processed your proclamation correctly. As did Harry. 

Harry had not spoken during this entire ordeal for the simple truth that if he did, he would be entirely ignored. There was no way to reason with these people, he thought, as it was your word against his. And he had almost wholeheartedly believed you would go along with the ‘assault mishap’, but your sudden intrusion between his body and Cal’s made him rethink this entire night. Harry remembered your expression of pain and loneliness from when you were contemplating jumping - how wretched and unhappy you seemed to be. And for someone to have that look on their face in what could have been their last moments of life, then they had to be good at heart as well. 

Cal cleared his throat, “An accident?”

You forced yourself to giggle as you looked between both confused men. “Yes! Oh my, it’s stupid really.” 

Harry waited patiently, hands handcuffed behind him and with a smug expression on his face. Anything you could possibly invent at this very moment was sure to be impressive. 

“I wasn’t very hungry earlier so I decided to take a stroll on deck. The night was so beautiful and the stars were reflecting off the water! So, I leaned over and I slipped!”

Cal blinked somewhat rapidly, looking between you and Harry. 

“I leaned far over to see the stars and those- uh-uh-”

You knew the word. Of course, you knew the word. But you still milked the lie and mimed the movement of the propellers - this way Cal would honestly believe you were stupid enough to lean over the railing. 

Cal looked up to the sky, annoyed by your ignorance. “Propellers?”

Your voice raised an octave, “Yes!”

Cal shut his eyes at your sudden high voice but maintained his perfect posture.  

Your savior was watching you this whole time, that smirk growing and growing as you continued talking. He was enjoying every second of this, even with a prospective charge of attempted sexual assault in his future. But with your toying of vocabulary and puppy-dog facial expressions, that charge might definitely be removed from the table now.

“I was leaning far over to see the propellers and I slipped! I would have gone overboard but Mr. Styles here saved me. He was only a few feet away enjoying a nightly cigarette.” 

Harry wanted to click his tongue and walk away, but the officer was still squeezing his hands together. It was as if everyone was waiting for Cal’s approval. 

“She wanted to see the propellers! Oh my, she wanted to see the propellers!” Cal laughed, an approval to your story that prompted everyone else to agree with it, too. 

The officer pulled Harry back to whisper in his ear. “Was that the way of it?”

Everyone turned their heads to Harry, who immediately looked to you. You practically pleaded with your eyes for him to agree.

Harry sighed and slightly smiled, “Yeah. That was pretty much it.”

The officer released Harry hands from the handcuffs and made his way over to George for his compensation. Cal’s drinking buddies all rejoiced in the happy accident, patting him on the back as if to say, ‘See! No nonsense was committed! Nothing to worry about!’

“The boy is a hero, then!” one exclaimed, walking over to Harry and shaking his hand. Cal paid no mind, and instead grabbed you by your shoulders and began rubbing your arms up and down. 

“Look at you! You must be freezing! Let’s get you inside.”

Cal turned you around to leave, but you gave one last look over your shoulder at Harry, thanking him quietly under your breath. 

The officer chuckled towards Cal, stopping him with a look of amusement. “Perhaps a little something for the boy?”

Cal raised an eyebrow, looking from the officer, to you, to Harry. “Right, George. I think a twenty should do it.”

Although it confused you to admit any form of love connection between you and Cal, you still pulled him back for such an absurd number. “Oh, is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?”

Cal pursed his lips and smiled at you, enjoying your attitude for once. “My fiance is displeased.”

Everyone shared a round of chuckles. 

“What to do?” Cal pondered. “Oh, I know.”

Cal shoved his thumbs into the tiny pockets of his vest, slowly walking up to Harry while looking at him from top to bottom. He was enjoying this, Harry could tell. Although he somewhat believed the wild story you told, Cal was not one to be taken as a fool. He had heard you speak freely before on a variety of topics, with such an advanced vocabulary and lovely hardened look of determination to always get your word in. Cal knew you weren’t stupid, no, but he would not have made sense of a possible meet-cute situation with a third-class passenger. He believed he knew you better than that - you would not dare stoop so low. And at this moment, with a frightened young man’s future practically in Cal’s hands, he decided to flip a switch and have a little fun for once. 

“Perhaps, you would enjoy joining us for dinner tomorrow night? To regale our group with your heroic tale!” 

Harry squinted his eyes at Cal. Everyone remained quiet, no silent laughs were heard, and Harry realized that he may actually be serious. He looked over at you, watching as you trembled underneath that sad excuse of a blanket, skin blotchy from dry tears but still so elegant. Your hair moved ever so slightly with the tiny burst of winds, and your lips were murmuring quick pleas. 

“Sure, I would love to.”

Cal lightly nodded, turning back to you and guiding you away from your temporary guardian angel. 

Harry watched as you slightly recoiled from the hugs Cal tried to give, but then watched the instance of submission, and wanted to run up to you and guide you instead. As your midnight savior, it only seemed right to pursue that role. But the third class would not be suitable for you, and Harry’s wild hero fantasies were quickly squashed. 

Instead, Harry motioned toward George. “Could you lend me a smoke?”

George looked from Cal to Harry, debating on whether to engage with him or not. But he took out his own pack of smokes anyway, lifting the box for Harry. Harry took one and left it dangling between his incisors for a few seconds, watching George watch him. 

“I find it interesting,” George spoke, tucking his smokes back into his coat pocket. “That you were so quick to remove your jacket as the young lady slipped so suddenly.”

Harry shifted his weight, “I had removed it before she slipped.”

“And where were you standing?” George asked, walking to the railing. “Here?”

Harry only stared as George walked over to the other side of the railing. “Or here?”

George grinned, almost as if a lightbulb came on above his balding head. “Or…”

And he walked over to the lonely bench that had Harry’s drawing book, pencil pouch, and solitary pack of smokes. “Here.”

Harry shifted his weight once again, trying to seem more confident in his face than in his worried body. “Like I said, I removed the coat before she slipped and made my way over as she yelled for help.”

George raised his chin up high, judging Harry with every sudden movement. 

“Perhaps,” George said. “But a sudden slip from leaning would have resulted in her flipping over the railing, and her arms would have been backwards so how could she grab-”

“I would really love to stay and chat and ponder all kinds of possibilities but the rats in third-class need feeding,” Harry announced, grabbing his stuff and giving George a short wave goodbye. 

It wasn’t until he was around the corner and down the stairs that Harry could choke out the sob that was scratching at his throat this whole time. 

He really saved you. 

He really fucking succeeded in doing that. 

He stumbled down to third-class swallowing the massive lump in his throat and blinking away the stinging tears, ready to scarf down whatever food was left at the buffet. 

          “What have you done!?”

You flinched from the volume of your mother’s voice, practically cowering at the edge of your bed as she, Cal, and George walked through your messy stay room. Flower vases shattered, jewelry pinched and pulled from their stands, buttons from your evening gown on the floor, and perfume bottles shattered, their smell intermingling with the expensive fabric of the carpet and wallpaper. 

 “Look at me! What have you done?”

Before you could speak, Cal shushed your own mother and held his own hand up. Your mother blinked rapidly, looking from Cal and back to you, a look of absolute astonishment tainting her pale face. But was she going to respond to that disrespect? She never did and you didn’t count on her starting any time soon. 

“This night has been…” Cal muttered, loud enough for only the four of you to hear. “Peculiar.” 

He picked up the tossed chair by your make-up table, gently turning it back up and messed around with whatever trinkets were in his immediate reach. 

“I’m sure she has a valid explanation for such…” he paused. “Clutter.”

All you wanted to do was open the blankets and hoped they swallowed you whole. This whole situation was beyond embarrassing. Yes, you destroyed parts of your stay room and had no reasonable explanation for it other than ‘jumping into the ocean and ultimately not having to worry about it’. But all eyes were eating away at your awkward demeanor. You sat with your hands intertwined in your shaking lap, staring at little diamond designs in the soiled carpet. 

Cal’s voice rang through your ears again, “Well?”

You looked up and decided to look at George first, the least threatening one of the group. He seemed to be giving you a wholesome look of sympathy, as if he knew Cal was going to handle this whole situation in the worst way possible later. 

“I’ve been really anxious lately.”

“Oh, well, we haven’t noticed!” Your mother’s voice dripped with heavy sarcasm. Instead of collapsing deeper within yourself, you quickly turned your head in her direction, a look of solid outrage etched across your face. You had had such a difficult night, what with wanting to commit suicide and almost falling into the freezing ocean all within the last hour, that a look of pure anger toward your mother was enough to tell her non-verbally that you would indeed fight her if provoked. 

“No, I haven’t. Excuse me for having a breakdown.”

“Yes, excuse you. Now we’ll have to bring the waiting staff up here to clean up your little breakdown, and God knows they’ll gossip about it until the end of time,” Cal groaned, rubbing his temples. 

You shook your heavy head, wanting to say anything to have them leave you in peace. “I’ll clean it. I will simply ask for more towels and an empty box to put the broken items.”

Your mother scoffed, “You? Clean it? How absurd of a-”

“Would you rather I ask four or five servants to help and rant about my day to them?”

Cal stuttered in his stance, surprised by such an outburst. George, poor George, was used to this but still had a tiny smirk on this face. He decided to take his exit and slip out of the room. 

“I will clean it.”

Your mother simply marched from your room. Cal stood silent for a moment, looked at you, and gave you a small smile. 

“Don’t forget to scrub the carpets.”

And with that, he exited as well. Once the door shut and it was quiet for more than ten seconds, you collapsed onto the rug beneath you, your breath unsteady and chest tight. 

          It was as if he walked through the hallways completely lightheaded, still bouncing on the adrenaline spike from almost falling off the ship earlier. The combination of slipping, catching you, and watching your face contort with such a frightened expression was enough to increase the pressure in the middle of his chest. All he could do now was travel through his third-class lounging and take his mind elsewhere. 

Through the happy commotion and drunk third-class passengers, Harry could faintly hear the sound of the band underneath his feet. Dreamy eyes watched him pass by, hungry for a word or two with the confused boy, and drunk pushes from side to side to accompany such a late night. Harry didn’t know if he was heading to his own room or down the stairs for his snack, the music now beginning to become hazy in his ears. 

Without even comprehending the movement of his quick feet, he found himself in line for the last of the dinner soup and freshly baked bread. Once he got his meal, he sat at one of the empty tables and drank his soup, watching everyone lean on each other in sleepy states and finishing their own meals. There were families of all sizes, singles enjoying their time alone, and couples leaning over the railing outside watching the waves swim by. A part of Harry wanted to warn them about leaning over too far, that it was so simple for a sweaty palm to lose its grip, that the water was just so cold that it may just be better to be shot point blank. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair and quickly finished his meal, grabbing his untouched piece of bread and picking at it as he walked back to his cabin. He shoved his sketchbook underneath his armpit like he always did, walking slowly and absentmindedly back to his cabin, small pieces of bread in between his teeth every once in a while. His mind wasn’t entirely absent, obviously, but he still only saw flashes of the dark abyss below your dangling body. A shiver ran up his spine and he was hit was the sudden need to see you - you couldn’t be around the ship’s railings without him. 

Stop. You’re being ridiculous. She’s probably all cozied up with her rich fiance in that massive bed and far, far away from the water-

“Woah, where have you been all night? I had to eat dinner with our roommates, who have no manners by the way-”

Harry just now registered that Drake was steadying his shoulders and speaking to him. He snapped out of his dazed state, wondering just how many of his third-class mates he had ignored as he walked. 

“Drake, I gotta talk to someone. Now.”

“Did you… did you break something on the ship? ‘Cause if you did, I’m sorry but I’m for sure going to pretend that I don’t know you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and continued walking to their cabin, glancing over his shoulder once in a while to make sure his only confidant was still following him. Once they entered their room, Harry locked the door and checked if their roommates weren’t hidden in any crevice of their very tiny room. 

“Spill. I’m curious now.”

Harry breathed slowly, holding in his large breaths and exhaling deeply. This intrigued Drake, who was leaning on the bed post of his roommate with his arms crossed, an amused expression painted across his face. Harry sat on his own bed, hands covering his mouth. But once he could control his rapid breathing, Harry set his hands in his lap and looked up at Drake. 

“I did something good.”

“Oh, thank God! You had me there-”

“And I did something bad.”

“- Fucking Christ, man.”

Drake lowered his head as if to protect against the bad blow, but nonetheless curious to what horrible act Harry committed.

“I saved a woman from falling over the side of the ship.”

“Man that’s-!”

“She was trying to commit suicide.”

“...Man, that’s-”

“I convinced her to come back over the railing-”

Drake interrupted yet again, “She was already over the railing?”

 “And then she slipped and I almost went over, too.”

This time Drake let Harry finish.

“I saw her face. I had convinced her to come over the railing, and she was just this broken soul who didn’t want help. It’s like she didn’t even know the concept of receiving help.”

Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair repeatedly. “Then it was like we were joking with each other, only for a second. She wanted to come back over. Then she slipped and I swear Drake, I saw the regret in her face.”

Drake shifted uncomfortably. The subject matter was too intense, but Drake would have done the same thing. An opportunity to be there for someone else - well, that was Drake’s perfect cup of tea. 

“But you saved her. And saved yourself, luckily, in the process.”

“That’s not the worst part, Drake.”

“You gotta tell me, because right now I’m blank.”

Harry groaned and lay back onto his pillow. “Pretty sure she was fucking royalty.”

Drake’s eyes widened and he puckered his lips in silent astonishment. He didn’t say anything, opting to let Harry continue talking. 

“She had the clothes for it. She was wearing make-up, this dark and glossy red lipstick. And although I could smell the sea below us, I could still smell her fruity perfume.”

Neither man knew what to make of this encounter. For Drake, he was the listener and was to provide some form of broken advice. Because from what he heard so far, there wasn’t any worry unless the woman complained about Harry to someone else. For Harry, all he wanted to do was tell someone about this - he wasn’t craving advice or words of encouragement. He simply needed to tell someone that he saved a life and almost lost his own in the process. At this moment, no matter how much he respected Drake, he really wanted to speak to his mother. 

“After I pulled her back over, we tumbled onto the dock. It was like my ears didn’t register her loud screams as I was pulling her back up because next thing I know, I’m being pulled from on top of her.”

“Fuck, Harry please tell me-”

“She wasn’t wearing a night coat and I wasn’t wearing one either. By pulling her up, her dress had ripped to the middle of her thigh.”

Drake now groaned non-stop and he climbed to his top bunk, slamming himself face first into his own pillow. 

“Then her fiance came out.”

By now, Drake was involuntarily laughing. Loud laughs that shook his whole body, a response to the amazing events that transpired. The pure lack of luck Harry had was too much not to ‘involuntarily’ laugh at it. 

“But she lied. She told them she was leaning over and I simply caught her. She made herself look stupid just to save my ass.”

“Obviously she didn’t want to just announce she almost killed herself,” Drake replied. But still, Drake stared at the ceiling, fingers tapping the top of his other hand. A first-class passenger taking the blame for something major? Unlikely. Unheard of. Unbelievable. 

“Why do you think she saved your ass?”

Harry sighed softly, a small smile forming on his face. “I think it’s because I’m the only one who wanted to pull her back over. No one else came. No one else was around.”

Drake nodded even though Harry couldn’t see him, “I don’t really know what to say, Harry.”

So Harry ranted the rest of the night, subconsciously thinking about possibly seeing you again. Would you look happy and well recovered? Would you nod to him in silent agreement, like a nonverbal statement of truce? Or would ignore him entirely, thank him for what he did, uninviting him from that dinner your fiance mentioned?

“Oh my God!” Harry yelled, hands accidentally tugging some of his hair from their roots. 

Drake’s sleepy eyes flew open and he sat up straight, watching as Harry began pacing around the small room.  “Wha-What?”

“Her fiance invited me to dinner tomorrow night. First-class dinner. I don’t- I said ‘yes’!”

“Why in the world would you say ‘yes’?”

“I panicked! What was I supposed to say to an offer like that after what just happened?”

 “Uh, ‘no’!”

Harry collapsed on his bed, pulling the blanket over his head and shutting his eyes tightly. Drake was somewhat wide awake now, completely amazed at both Harry’s bravery and stupidity combined. 

“We’ll deal with this tomorrow,” Drake started. “For now, we sleep and hope she doesn’t change her story.”

Harry agreed with that logic, no matter how much his mind told him to think of a backup plan. But now wasn’t the time, not when his thoughts were scattered. All he knew for sure was that he would see you again, and he had no idea what he would ultimately say. 

           You absentmindedly pulled stray hair from your hairbrush, rolling the strands and tossing them into the can beside your make-up table. You had cleaned the room the best you could and used so many towels that the staff would definitely wonder what happened this night, but you couldn’t care less. The floor was clean, your bed was made, and only the smell of the perfume you broke lingered in the air. 

You didn’t hear the door to your stay room open as you continued to get ready for bed. You gasped at the sight of Cal, hand instinctively clutching your chest. He chuckled at your reaction, walking slowly to where you were seated. 

“I did not think tonight was going to have so much excitement.”

You gave him a small smile, eyes trained on him through your mirror. “It’s late, Cal. Perhaps we should go to bed.”

“Are you inviting me?”

You cringed inwardly but still kept a steady posture. You shook your head and chuckled nicely at his statement, hands going back to work on your hairbrush. 

“I was hoping to save this for the engagement galla next week,” Cal continued, sweeping the jewelry on your desk to the side and taking the hairbrush from your hand. You accepted the small defeat, hands now resting on your thighs.

“But I think now is the proper time.”

Cal opened a velvet blue box in front of you, a heart-shaped diamond that could fill the palm of your hand inside. 

“Oh my,” you gasped, looking up toward Cal for an explanation. “Cal, this is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled and picked up the necklace, unclipping the back and bringing it toward your neck. You pulled your hair back and let him clip it on. 

“Look at you.”

And you did. It was heavy, the dark blue tint looking more like a horrid bruise in the middle of your sternum, and you wanted it off immediately. It was beautiful, you thought, but it was not yours. 

“Cal, it’s overwhelming,” you said, somehow trying to convey the very uncomfortable feeling you were being drowned by. But Cal just smiled behind you, kneeling down beside you and looking into your eyes and back to the necklace. You cupped the heart in your hand. 

“It was worn by Louis the XVI, his crown. It was made for royalty,” Cal spoke, now watching you as you held it tightly. “We are royalty. ‘Au coeur de l'océan’, they call it.”

“The heart of the ocean,” you translated at the same time Cal did, a look of shock on his face. You wanted to roll your eyes, disbelief overriding your senses at the fact he assumed you didn’t know French. As if you hadn’t studied it since the age of three. 

“It’s yours now.”

You looked at Cal without the help of the mirror, staring at his dark eyes and trying to read them. He leaned his cheek on his left hand and he gave you a small smile. 

“Oh, open your heart to me, Sweetpea,” he practically begged, waiting only a few more seconds before sighing and unclipping the necklace from your neck. You actually pondered his request, wondering if opening your heart for this man would truly be as bad as you assumed it would be. But all you could do was give him a gentle nod - not one of acceptance, but a promise to at least think about it. He left you alone after saying goodnight, still sitting in front of the mirror, furrowed eyebrows straining your forehead and giving you a headache. 

Because as you thought about succumbing to a possibly loveless marriage with Cal, the soft face of the boy from earlier crept back into your mind, poking and prodding at any common sense left inside the padded confines of your skull.

- xxMoni

[zodiyack]

Gut-Feelings

Requested by anon: Hiya there ! Could you please do 19 and 39 from your 2nd prompt list with Tommy Shelby whenever you have the time? Thank you so muchasdfghjkl in advance! Xoxoxo

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, violence

Prompt: [19] “Go to hell.” “And leave you here all alone?” [39] He kissed her brow as the world around them burned. “See you in the next life, my love,” he whispered.

Words: 2003

Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK!!! Also I got really caught up in this lmao... hope you like it!

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​, @stydia-4-ever​, @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @peakysputain​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

He was fucked. And she made sure he knew. Tommy practically had everything a man could desire; a beautiful and loyal wife, a huge house with an equally as huge property, family and strong bonds with them, a fancy car, loads of money, and a child on the way. Not to mention, business was successful as ever, but it apparently just wasn’t enough for him.

Tommy almost wanted to blame Linda for Y/n’s accusation, but he knew she was only telling the truth. They fought, arguing about his choices, but hidden behind her reddened face and daggered words formed with anger, she was terrified. Beyond terrified.

“Thomas! You’re going to mess up, and I’m only telling you beforehand so you find a way to prevent it. And the way to prevent it is to take a b-”

“Take a break? Y/n, we have money, food, loyal allies, and so much more-”

“Yes! That’s exactly why you should stop! And when our child comes into this world, they’re likely to wish for the same thing!”

“And what may that be?”

“Your goddamn safety, Thomas!” He scoffed, walking to his desk and pouring himself a drink as he reclined into the chair. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yep.”

“I’m worried sick, Tom! It’s not like you have to go through the horror-fueled thoughts of ‘will my husband even come home tonight?’ or ‘will my child be lucky enough to experience life with a father?’ So please, indulg-” He shot up, grabbing her arms and pushing her into his desk lightly. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you calm down.”

“Go to hell.”

“And leave you here all alone?” His smile was cocky, sure he would get her to stop fighting him. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight. Or, you can indulge me in why you should continue putting yourself into danger.” She ripped her arms from his grip. “Make up your mind by dinner, Thomas.” she spat, giving him one last glare before she left.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Tommy dropped back into his seat with a heavy sigh. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t find it himself to admit such a thing. This work was too much. Far too important. But so was family, and everyone knew that family went first.

Even Thomas.

Tommy gave it his best. He avoided sporting, gambling, and most of the Peaky Business. He turned to working from home, giving him more time with his wife and their new baby boy. She was happy, to say the least, and quite relived.

She told him she didn’t care if he returned to the business, as long as he waited until their child was older and had known him for at least a year or two, and he actually came home to them. Slowly, he was getting back into the business, Guns and fire, however, were postponed.

At least, to Y/n’s knowledge.

“Tommy?”

He grunted from his seat, fag hanging out of his mouth as he carelessly scanned the paper; it’s words of no interest to him. “Yes, love?”

Y/n walked over, sitting on his lap and gaining his attention. His blue orbs dragged all over her form, so small- no- fragile, compared to him. Her hands adjusted his collar, then his cigarette, placing it between her pink lips before putting it back between his. His eyes watched her every movement, fixated on her like he was in a trance.

“I’m feeling a bit drowsy. Would you care to join me for bed?” Her suggestion was tempting, truly, but he had promised he’d meet Arthur at the Garrison. For the work he told her he’d stray from.

“Of course, Y/n.” Setting down the paper and putting out his cigarette, he stood up and rested his hands upon her waist. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“You’ve made me well aware quite a number of times, Mr. Shelby. However, it’s time for bed. Proving it to me can wait until tomorrow.”

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Shelby.” He pulled her in by his grip on her sides, pressing a loving kiss to her lips. They could’ve stayed like that forever; Y/n wouldn’t mind, neither would Tommy, but he had work to get to.

Picking her up bridal-style, he carried her to their bedroom and set her down on the middle of the bed. He crawled over her, kissing her roughly, smiling goofily to the sound of her giggles. Y/n pushed her off of him, stripping him of his clothes and sliding under the warmth of the blankets.

“Goodnight Tommy. I love you.”

Guilt panged inside of him, knowing he would be breaking her trust, as well as her heart. “I love you too, Y/n. Sleep well, darling.” He allowed her to rest her head on his chest, drifting to sleep slowly as he stared up at the ceiling.

“She know you’re here?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Arthur.” He was in no mood to talk about Y/n’s knowledge of his activities, the guilt far too much to bare. “Now, what do we need to do?”

“Nothing. You don’t need to do anything, Thomas.” A familiar voice spoke from the doors. Y/n’s words dripped with anger, hurt, and sorrow. Tommy began to think of how she knew where he was.

Arthur was removed as a suspect, his immediate response once Y/n had entered fully was a simple mumble. “Shit...” Though Arthur told Linda everything, there was no way he told her of this.

“How’d-”

“How’d I found you? Well, you leaving in the middle of the night is kind of hard to miss, Thomas.”

“We’re just getting drinks, love.”

“Don’t lie to me. Either way, you’re not telling me something.” His brows furrowed with confusion, a mocking laugh to escape her lips in response. “You come and get a drink this late at night? There’s something wrong and you refuse to tell me. You’re lying to me and you’re actually doing something else? You’re still not telling me.”

“Y/n-”

“Don’t start.” Arthur cleared his throat, Y/n’s attention switching to him. “And you! You knew I didn’t want him involved for at least a little longer! How could you!” Her voice began to break and her eyes began to water.

“Isn’t this a surprise!” A new voice interrupted their confrontation. The three of their heads snapped to the entrance, Thomas and Arthur exchanging glances with wide eyes full of fear. “Too bad I hate surprises.”

The man, whom Y/n didn’t recognize, snapped his fingers. Two other men came out, grabbing Y/n and dragging her to him, ignoring her squirming.

“You leave her out of this!” Thomas lunged from his chair, only to be pushed back by another man.

“Oh? Is she important to you, Shelby?” The mystery man’s hand came to Y/n’s face, grabbing her cheeks harshly. “She’s a beauty, I can see why you like her.”

Another pair of men walked in, pouring gasoline all over The Garrison as the man toyed with a match in his free hand. The look in Y/n’s eyes as she continued squirming sent a wave of hurt to Tommy’s heart. Just as he was about to give in, offer the man what he’d been after, and idea sparked. And Y/n was the one to thank, as it was for her.

While he was distracted, poking fun at Y/n, Tommy whispered is plan to Arthur, who hesitated- but agreed to initiate it. They would need to time it perfectly.

“Before you set this place ablaze... Let me say my goodbyes to my wife.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, pushing Y/n towards Tommy as he cackled.

“Your wife? Damn, when did gypsy-trash like you get this lucky?” Nevertheless, he turned to speak with the men who were previously holding Y/n. “You have five minutes.”

Tommy nodded, pulling Y/n closer to him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he explained his plan in a soft whisper, leaving out details he knew she would never agree to. “Do you understand?” He took her face into his hands.

“I understand...”

“Good. Now, hurry, kiss me, make it seem like it’s the la-” She pulled him forward by his collar, kissing him desperately, the act genuine.

“Time’s up, love birds!” Y/n was yanked backwards as the men finished pouring the rest of the gasoline. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, Thomas. I’d like to keep her as... well, a little prize. Souvenir perhaps?” He continued making comments, pointless ones at that, until Arthur snatched the match from his hand.

“Now Y/n!” She darted for the doors, but the man’s guards blocked it. The window was her next escape, and luckily, she made it on time. Tommy helped her out of The Garrison’s window. 

To her horror, he rejected her offer for escape. “I thought... I thought you said-”

“I only said it to get you to agree.” From behind Tommy, Y/n could see Arthur strike the match and drop it with a grin of success. Her attention flickered back to her husband. Her hands gripped his so hard her knuckles turned white, a newfound race to her breathing.

He kissed her brow as the world around them burned. “See you in the next life, my love,” he whispered. In a blur, Thomas let go of Y/n’s hands and nudged her back slightly before the window shut and locked, preventing Y/n from forcing Tommy to leave with her.

Y/n knocked on the glass as hard as she could, but as the fire spread, Tommy and Arthur disappeared into the smoke. A hand slamming against the window, relief entering her body once she realized it didn’t belong to either of the brother’s, was her cue to leave.

As she ran, her heart felt oddly relaxed. It freaked her out, but somehow, she knew it was right. Her gut-feeling was always right. It was right when it told her not to sleep, it was right when it told her to go to the Garrison, it was was right when it told her to go for the window, and now it had to be right.

The boys had to be alive.

Her gut was always right, and though they had their moments, the boys were smart.

A smile graced her lip, prompting her to run faster. The uneven ground had no effect on her as her bare feet hit the rough surface, shoes left behind at the now burning bar. She kicked them off unintentionally whilst she struggled to escape the men’s grips.

But she didn’t care.

She didn’t care how much the ground would’ve hurt had she walked upon it like this any other day. She didn’t care how cold the night air was, the chill nipping at her nose until it turned pink. She didn’t care about anything except for getting home, butterflies in her stomach as she raced past the folk of Small Heath. 

She didn’t care; because Thomas would be waiting for her, Arthur likely sitting next to him on the sofa, soot on the soft material from the two’s escape, a glass of whiskey in both of their hands. She could see it, she could see herself hugging him tightly, the black powder rubbing off onto her skin and nightgown, and her not car

The boys were always a tad bit faster than her, and they had a head start with her hesitation, so she was sure they’d be home first. Despite who would be home before the other, she was ever so determined.

It was like her legs had minds of their own, never stumbling over each other, never faltering, just as eager to get to her family as she was. The wind didn’t slow her either, the cold nips just encouragement to move faster.

Even if she stopped to take a break, which she didn’t, she wore her smile. She wore it without a second thought. She wore it with determination.

She wore it because her gut-feeling was never wrong.

[sliggoons]

Raihan, hm? How about a Drabble of Raihan and a crush that has an altaria that mega evolves??? And he's like, j e a l o u s

Yesss FINALLY my time to write for raihan has come!! Also, to be honest, I haven’t finished any of the games or watched the show that actually HAS mega evolution in it (YET) so I did a teensy bit of research and hopefully I’m getting all this right lmao

(also I just wanna say that this was the perfect request UwU so thank you! Specific enough that I had something to go off of, but it left plenty of room for creativity, it was so fun to write!)

???? And I can’t remember if the actual battle against Raihan is in the Vault?? Or just the gym mission thingy? Forgive me 

Mega Crush, Raihan x Reader

    Raihan was confused from the moment you set foot into his gym. Well, long before that actually. There had been talk amongst all the gym leaders that there was a particularly strong challenger battling their way through the league. Milo had confirmed this, adding in the details that you were from a far away region and you were older than the typical preteen gym challengers. Nessa learned that you didn’t Dynamax your pokemon, which Piers was over the moon about, he couldn’t wait for your battle. And Kabu had told Raihan about your beautiful, strong Altaria. 

    As soon as he heard that, Raihan was weak in the knees. He could not WAIT to battle you. He had never seen an Altaria in person. So soon after your victory against Kabu, Raihan spent his free time loitering around Hammerlocke, hoping to find you as you passed through on your way to Stow-On-Side. Just to his luck, he did just that. He had watched recordings of your battles with the previous gym leaders after they told him about your Altaria. And he had watched you blow through the battles with ease. You didn’t even need to use your dragon type pokemon in the first two battles. Through this, Raihan was able to recognize you as you cleared the long staircase leading into his city. He followed after you, conveniently ‘bumping into you’ as you were headed into the pokemon center. 

    “Hey, you’re Y/N?, right?” the gym leader asked, grabbing your attention from the mid-day bustle of the city. 

    “Hm?” You turned to look at who had called your name. It couldn’t possibly have been Raihan. You weren’t from Galar, so you didn’t know him as well as the other gym challengers, but you could definitely put name to face, and you knew the status and fame he held in the region. 

    “I’m Raihan!” He greeted, sticking out his hand for you to shake and flashing you an award winning smile. 

    “Uh, yeah. I know. I’m surprised you know who I am?” You said curiously. He had to admit, Raihan’s heart sank a little when he found out you knew who he was. He was hoping he could just meet someone who would get to know him as Raihan, not The Great Raihan, or Gym Leader Raihan, or Dragon Tamer Raihan. Don’t be mistaken, Raihan loved the fame, and adored his fan base, but it’d be nice for someone, especially if they were as cute as you, to have no previous opinion of him. 

    “I saw your match with Kabu! That Altaria is sick!” Raihan’s heart skipped a beat as he saw your face light up. “You know, all the gym leaders are saying you’re the trainer to watch out for. Might even light a fire up under Leon one of these days.” 

    “Oh, for real? Well, I’m flattered then,” you could feel your face flushing red. “I gotta get some of my pokemon into the center, though. You coming?” 

    “Oh, yeah, that’s where I was headed. The whole reason I ran into you,” Raihan laughed, nervously, it starting to dawn on him that this whole situation might come off as slightly… creepy. He was just doing his duty as a gym leader right? Keeping up with all the strong challengers who have a chance at the championship. You walked up to the counter, handing over your pokeballs to Nurse Joy for treatment. 

    “Can I buy you something to drink while we’re here?” Raihan asked you, following you over to a small table and set of chairs. “Maybe some fresh water or lemonade? I take it you just got in from training hard in the Wild Area?”

    “You don’t have to do that. But yeah, it’s a good place to train up! There’s nothing like it back home. Weren’t you here to heal your pokemon too?”

    “Oh! You’re right. I’ll just go, uh, do that then.” That was a big, fat lie. Raihan’s pokemon were perfectly fine and he knew it. In fact he had only left the house with his Duraludon. But Raihan was in too deep now. So he awkwardly shuffled over to the counter, greeting Nurse Joy and handing over his sole pokeball. 

    He stopped by the cafe to get two lemonades before plopping down opposite of you. Within seconds, Nurse Joy came back over with a tray, delivering your healed pokemon to you. She handed Raihan his one pokeball, a confused look on her face.

    “Raihan, your Duraludon was just fine, there was no need for it to be healed.”

    His face turned red, he looked over at you, a questioning look on your face along with a slight smirk. “Oh, uh, really?” He chuckled. “My mistake!” He gave Nurse Joy an innocent smile, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. When Nurse Joy left, he turned back to you. 

    “What’s that all about? Everything okay, Raihan?” You sipped your lemonade, watching him from over the top of your glass. 

    “Yeah, it’s nothing. I’m just really looking forward to our battle!” Except nothing was okay. Raihan had just made a complete and utter fool out of himself, and the way you said his name might just send him into cardiac arrest. He wished Nurse Joy would have just played along. 

    “Oh.” It seems like he took you by surprise. “I’m looking forward to it too. I’m sure you’ll be quite the match.”

    “I’m sure I will be, princess,” Raihan smirked, his confidence slowly coming back.

    The next time you saw Raihan it was at Stow-On-Side Gym. You weren’t even sure it was him. You caught one quick glimpse of a very, very tall man in the commentator’s booth during your battle. Of course, you were secretly hoping it was him, coming to watch your battles. But your logical side knew he was busy, and besides, would he really be that interested anyway?

    You flew through the Stow-On-Side Gym with ease, passed Opal’s tests with flying colors, Circhester started to slow you down a bit, until finally you reached Spikemuth. You had heard Piers didn’t Dynamax his pokemon. You were a bit disappointed, actually. You respected his traditional ways, of course, but you were hoping for an opponent whose strength called for the trick you had been hiding in your sleeve all this time. Your Altaria’s Mega Evolution. 

    You were confident you saw Raihan’s signature hoodie and bright orange headband sticking out of the crowd in Spikemuth like a sore thumb. Was he really coming to watch you battle?

So when you found yourself walking into the Hammerlocke City Gym, Raihan was eager to get to know more about you. What better way to do that than through the long anticipated battle? The media had picked up on you too, anxiously awaiting for the day you faced off against Raihan. As one of the few remaining challengers, you’d be surprised if all of Galar wasn’t familiar with your name by now. 

Raihan’s team was no laughing matter. He had managed to get you down to only one pokemon, your Altaria. But luckily you had done the same and you were facing off against his Duraludon. The gym leader certainly knew how to manipulate the weather, and his unique double battle style had helped him gain the advantage. 

You smirked, knowing you had finally found what you wanted. Mega Evolving your Altaria took a lot of effort, and wore it out, just like Dynamaxing, so you saved it for when it really counted. You had seen Raihan eyeing the Mega Bracelet that hung on your wrist, and you wondered if he recognized it. He had to, right? He was a gym leader after all, but then again the entire Galar region was hyper fixated on the Dynamax phenomenon. 

You watched as Raihan called his Duraludon back, preparing to Gigantamax it. You knew this would be a tough match up. Your Altaria transforms into a dragon and fairy type during mega evolution, so Raihan’s dragon type moves would do nothing. Mega Altaria would be weak to steel type moves, however. You had spent extra time training your Altaria’s speed. You knew that in order to win this match, you’d have to be able to dodge some powerful blows. 

Raihan had never been this exhilarated in his life. Pokemon battles were when he really came to life. He loved the atmosphere in the stadium, the thousands of fans yelling his name, the raw energy pouring from his Gigantamaxed Duraludon. He was so curious to see how this would play out. He had gone to watch every one of your matches after he met you, and you had yet to dynamax your altaria, or any of your pokemon for that matter. At the beginning of the match he saw something glint on your wrist. Not a dynamax band, definitely not, could it be a Mega Bracelet? Soon all his questions would be answered. 

“Ready, princess?” he asked, just loud enough for you alone to hear over the stadium, a wild smile on his face as his Gigantamaxed Duraludon loomed behind him, dwarfing your Altaria. 

The entire stadium fell silent as you Mega Evolved your Altaria. This was a very, very rare occurrence in the Galar region. Most of the spectators were witnessing this for the first time. Raihan was among them. 

The color drained from his face. A MEGA ALTARIA? He knew your Altaria’s flying type moves would barely harm his Duraludon, but this was something very unexpected. He had learned somewhere that some pokemon switch types when they Mega Evolve. What type your Altaria switched to was a mystery. 

Raihan quickly gained his composure, even though his heart was beating a million times a minute. You were ogling at the crowd, flattered by their insane interest in your pokemon, and Mega Altaria seemed to be enjoying it too. Your opponent took this chance to fire off his first shot, Max Wyrmwind, a dragon type move. He stood there stunned as Altaria remained unaffected.

Unfortunately, neither dragon nor fairy moves would work great against Duraludon’s steel and dragon type, but you did your research. You had been helping your Altaria perfect it’s Fire Blast over the last week. You were surprised to learn that Altaria could learn the fire type move when you found the TM in a dusty old shop in Motostoke, but glad it could come in handy. Steel types were hard to beat. 

Mega Altaria immediately retaliated with Fire Blast, and you could tell how effective it was against Duraludon. Raihan looked even more shocked as he gritted his teeth, dug in his heels, and told Duraludon to use Max Steelspike. Your Altaria just barely missed the hit, moving out of range before you even began to shout. 

“Great dodge! You can do this!” You cheered on your Altaria. It seemed like it was your lucky day, because one more powerful Fire Blast fainted Duraludon, sending it shrinking down to normal size, and back into Raihan’s pokeball. 

You met the gym leader in the middle of the pitch where he gave you a hearty handshake. “Well met, Y/N! What a stunning battle. It seems I might have gotten a bit too cocky with my team, huh? And who knew, that was Mega Evolution, wasn’t it?”

“It was! You definitely presented quite the challenge, I just had to do some special training before I came.”

“Well, congratulations, princess. You beat the Great Raihan,” He handed you the Dragon Badge, a huge smirk on his face. “You get the honor of going through the Finals now! I’ll be looking forward to our next battle, facing off for the chance to take down Leon. Though I s’pose I’ll have to find a way to beat that Altaria, huh?” You thanked Raihan before being ushered off the pitch, a few reporters waiting to greet you and ask about the battle. 

After all the chaos subsided, you were surprised to see Raihan jogging over to you as you left the gym. “I thought you might want this,” Raihan gave you the dragon type TM, as well as the dragon type gym uniform. “I just wanted to say, that Mega Altaria is super cool! Way cooler than I wanted to admit out on the pitch,” He chuckled, nervously. 

“What, is the Great Raihan scared of looking like a total nerd in front of his fans?” you teased.

“Oh, shut up. It just wasn’t a good time. Besides, I’m getting to talk to you again now, aren’t I? How about I take you out to dinner to celebrate your victory?” Raihan winked, taking your hand to lead you to his favorite restaurant.

[clair-void-ance]

If Only She Knew

Pairing: Cedric the Sorcerer X Wormwood! Reader

Word Count: Roughly 1,516 words

Warnings: None; just yearning and fluff

Notes: Gif, photo, poem, and characters are not mine; only the story is mine! The poem is “If only She Knew” by Kiara Wilson and, honestly, I think it fit pretty well for the story :) The idea was one I found on @merlins-mushrooms​ blog that focused on the reader being Cedric’s familiar instead of Wormwood and them being able to switch between their animal and human form. I had a little bit of time and wanted to write, so I decided why not? It seems more like headcanons than a story but what can you do lmao. Hope you guys enjoy, feedback is always appreciated!

Growing up as an animal-based shape shifter, life had been both difficult and easy going for you. The magical gift you had to change into any animal at will provided you with opportunities and freedom not many people ever got to possess. Especially when it came to sneaking around and getting away with things

What made it difficult though, is that you had immense difficulty finding a job that suited you. Although you had attended Hexley Hall to learn to control and gain your magical abilities, it ended up being something you just didn't want the responsibility of doing.  

Something that you did like about attending there though, was someone who had grown to be quite dear to you over the years: Cedric.

Cedric and you had started off pretty rocky, given you different backgrounds and his stifling parents, but you eventually learned to create a happy medium. After the whole fiasco with his older sister and his falling out with Roland, Cedric ended up not having many people to fully rely on. In fact, he had no one to rely on. That is, until he met you.

You two would work on spells together, duel against each other, rant about your problems to one another, and even began providing physical affection to each other. One form of which, was when you would shift into a stark black cat and curl up in his arms underneath you guys’ favorite tree outside the school grounds.

For Cedric though, his favorite form for you was the raven you would transform into when wanting some alone time or freedom. After all, one of the few things that you adored above all things was your independence. He thought you looked adorable and, after an embarrassing incident that you have sworn him into secrecy about, he dubbed your new nickname “Wormwood.”

When you both began to creep closer to your graduation date though, your time together became thinner and more tense. When your studies started to wrap up, it became clear that you both had to pick your career soon. To Cedric, that choice was easy. His father had been Roland I’s Royal Sorcerer, and it was only natural that he took his place when the king retired. For you though, choosing a career that would define the rest if your life caused you so much stress that even Greylock had noticed. Which said a lot lmao But, like always, Cedric was there to ease your troubles. Since you both wanted to stay together, but there was no need for a second royal sorcerer, Cedric offered the idea that you become his familiar. 

Which…..wasn't actually a bad idea. In fact, it offered every bit of freedom, fun, and intellectual interest that you had desired in a would-be dream job. 

After crushing Cedric in a bone shattering hug, you quickly made your way to the school’s office and began the preparation of registering as a familiar. lmao, we’re just gonna act like it works that way cause I have no idea what else to do

--------------------------------------------

Moving to the castle had been an easier transition than you had anticipated, but you assumed that was more your doing than Cedric’s given the fact that people seemed to greet him with more suspicion than warmth. 

An unexpected advancement though, was when you were told that you both had to share sleeping quarters. Not that it really mattered that much; you and Cedric had slept near each other before when bunking and traveling at Hexley Hall, and this time would be no different. 

At least....to you it would. The fact that you had grown up to be rather beautiful made you sleeping in the same quarters rather awkward for Cedric. And though he could hide his affection relatively well, he still slipped up here and there and was caught throwing you yearning glances throughout the day. 

(Cedric was just glad that you had separate beds, cause he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you slept less than ten feet away from him.)

Dynamic wise, you both worked together with so much ease it seemed as though you shared a collective mind. Which, in a way, you did. The only downside to knowing each other so well though, was the fact that you were adopting one another’s personality traits. Cedric, of course, had little downsides, but you were finding yourself becoming a tad more awkward then you remember originally being. But that just made you even more cuter in Cedric’s eyes. Which didn’t help his repressed love for you that he had harbored for the last fifteenish years he had known you.

--------------------------------------------

It wasn't until Sofia joined the castle and started to warm up to Cedric that he let it slip that he had the most embarrassing crush on you though. Sofia, of course, thought that this was the most adorable thing in the whole world and made it her life’s mission to help you both get together before it was too late. 

--------------------------------------------

After sending you away on ‘work-related’ jobs, Cedric and Sofia began to brainstorm the best possible ways to reveal his feelings and have them reciprocated. This ended with Cedric bringing up the idea of doing it through one of your more favorable interests: Poetry.

When you guys were still young and spent most of your time underneath the great Elm tree at Hexley Hall, you two had jokingly picked up the hobby of writing mushy and cringe inducing poetry. Which meant that his admission of feelings would be even more meaningful and heartfelt. That would definitely aid him in his and Sofia’s plans.

--------------------------------------------

While he began writing his love poem to you, Sofia began to set up the location in which he would proclaim his love. With the help of a few animal companions, Sofia had successfully set up a romantic setting in a secluded area of the palace gardens when she saw Cedric leading you down the pathway towards a singular bench.

You were wearing a deep purple pantsuit and, for a minute, Sofia realized that you complemented eachother surprisingly well.

After quickly hiding behind a bush, she got as close as she could without being found.

Grasping both of your hands in his as he stood in front of your seated form, Cedric began the start of confession speech.

“(y/n), to say that you’ve had a tremendous impact on my life would be a tragically large misconception. Unlike everyone else in my life, you have stuck in my corner through thick and thin and have remained, through it all, my closest companion and friend.”

At this point, he began to nervously shift around and cast his eyes down to his polished black shoes. 

“The thing is though, that my feelings as of late have changed. And, to help convey them….I sort of….w-wrote you a poem.”

You let out a snort to this, but looked at him tenderly as if to say “continue.”

Coughing into his fist, Cedric pointed his chin upwards as he sat to face you and started to recite his hastily written poem.

“She has her own special way

Of turning around my terrible day.

She makes all the bad things go away

The second that she says hey.

And when I look into her eyes,

I see pure beauty with no disguise.

Just a glance at her makes my heartbeat rise.

I know for a fact that these feelings aren't lies.

If only she knew

How much my love for her grew,

Maybe, just maybe, we could start something new,

And then I'd never feel blue.

And if beauty were inches, she'd go on for miles.

I'd better catch her before I go out of style.

I'm going to let my heart be my dial

So I can tell her what I've been feeling for a while.”

After finishing, Cedric nervously looked up at you to see what reaction you would show to what he had just revealed. Gazing at your eyes, he finally noticed the rim of tears that surrounded the lower part of your eyes and began to panic.

“Oh no, was that too much? Did...did I just ruin everything? Merlin’s Mushrooms! This always happens,” his tender look deflated into one of distress  as he put his head in his hands and quickly turned away from you. It wasn’t until he heard what, at first, sounded like crying that he hesitantly gazed up at you. Analyzing your facial features, he noticed that your face was not scrunched up in disgust, but rather into one of joy and laughter. You let out an airy giggle and reached to cradle his cheeks in your palms. 

“Oh Ceddy, that was the mushiest and most cringe inducing poem you’ve written yet,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just glad that this one is about me.”

“Does that mea-” 

It was at that point that you connected both of your lips and started to slowly initiate a deep and affectionate kiss. Sofia could be heard squealing behind one of the bushes across from you guys’ bench and that only made you giggle softly against Cedric’s slightly chapped lips. Which made the bumbling sorcerer swoon and lightly bring you into a hug,

Needless to say, that situation led to you both getting real familiar with each other. Only, this time, it lead to one of the most fulfilling chapters of both of your lives.

[fangroyal]

i'm really curious about Dawn of the Conformists!

OH GOD OKAY SO

Fuck.

Somehow I just knew someone was going to ask about this one, and I’d have to find a way to actually explain it.

Which is honestly totally fine because I do love this crazy thing, but...

So this is CuRed (aka Michael/Pete, aka the curly-haired goth kid and the red-haired goth kid, because I’m pretty sure this is one of the rarest rarepairs I ship, and I don’t expect everyone to know who they are. 😂😂😂). Fun fact about me: they are my OTP only second to Dron, SO YEAH.

This one’s obviously way post-canon, when they’re of adult age and all that. It’s got zombies. It’s got roadtrips. It’s got pining and misunderstandings and epic human-on-zombie fights. And, you know, conformist stuff. Or, moreover, zombies that are obsessed with so-called “conformist” things. Because, you know, the goth kids are so annoyed by that kind of thing, haha. Which is fun for me, as a fellow goth, because I actually like some of the things I’d be ragging on myself.

ANYWAY, it’s a problem project for me because...ugh. I’ve just had it lying around for so long at this point - since September 2017? I think??? - and because of that, it’s gone through several transformations from the original idea. Essentially, whenever that was in 2017, I wrote down an outline and a bunch of snippets of scenes, was SO excited about it - and then I got really super sick in summer 2018, and have since not written anywhere near as much as I used to. (An issue that plagues me to this day. *sigh*) And up until a couple months ago, I would only open the folder for this one, like...once or twice a year, read through it and smile and remember how much I loved it and this ship...and then I’d continue to do absolutely nothing with it.

The reason for this is because after what happened to me in 2018, and now that I’m pushing 30, my writing style and my relationship to my writing and the kinds of stories I want to tell have all changed so much. And not that I’m trying to say what I wrote for this story three years ago is bad, but it’s...it’s, uh, not good??? Okay, so, by “not good”, I really mean it’s just...it’s too much like my old writing. And not just the words themselves, but the character development, the plot, my strange need back then to be very, you know, shock for shock’s sake. 🙄 Like, when I was younger, I admittedly didn’t have a great grasp on a lot of the pieces and parts of writing. Not saying that I’m a fucking expert on it now, of course not, but I do prefer the way I write now - my style, my voice - a lot more than what it used to be.

So when I inevitably opened up that folder again a couple months ago, and once again remembered how much I used to love it, I was struck by how much I wanted to change about it, to make it more like how I write now.

And so what was once actually called The Walking Conformists became Dawn of the Conformists. I decided what was once two old friends realizing their small mountain town had all turned into zombie-like “conformists” - that they needed to get away from there, move to another state, another city, where Henrietta was waiting for them, and thus the pining and hijinks sprinkled in between - needed to be more of a gradual “what the fuck”, both cracky and not, zombie’s placated by conformist things experience, a la Shaun of the Dead (i.e. the name change). I wrote up a few lines about this one scene that really stuck in my mind for the new treatment, and THEN...promptly didn’t do anything else. Again. 😂

Because, you see, I’m also having a lot of trouble translating the old outline and snippets to the new version. I don’t like a lot of what it once was, but I do like some of it. And unfortunately, the parts I do really like still relate to that whole roadtrip/moving idea, aaaaannnndddd....I don’t know what the fuck to do about it, haha. If anyone out there is willing to, I don’t know, alpha? or something? and help me out with this transition, I would appreciate you forever.

ANYWAY, I’ve rambled on enough, I think, LMAO. So I’ll give you snippets now. The first is one of the pieces I do still like from the original - a little glimpse of our poor angry boy Pete raging at himself over just how much he wants Michael. The second is part of that scene that gave me the desire to start crafting the new version. (Both are very rough, I’m so, so sorry.)

Old Version:

Pete had tried his best to make himself look like he hadn't gotten dressed in the back of a car, nor brushed his teeth in the woods with a water bottle, but he feared he hadn't succeeded. Michael looked immaculate in that way that drove Pete absolutely insane. Normally, his hair would be gelled down on the sides, top swept forward in a delicate wave down one side of his face. He was, of course, lacking in such style today, his hair mussed instead, curls tousled all about his head ― and yet he still made it look like the goth fashion statement of the century. He was even sitting there wearing that stupid fucking dangly raven's skull earring Pete had gotten him for his birthday at least four years ago, and it made Pete want to gouge out his own eyes.

He took out his frustrations on his last piece of sausage instead, spearing it violently before shoving it in his mouth.

New Version:

Pete jumped back, knocking into the counter and sending an empty mug crashing to the floor. His hands scrambled behind him, his breath coming in short pants. The man swayed on his feet, a hanging piece of skin on his cheek sagging low enough that Pete could see the layer of muscle tissue beneath. He glanced at the bread knife at the far side of the counter, wondering how quickly he could reach it before the intruder came for him again.

Then, the man slowly raised his arm and pointed at the menu above Pete's head.

Pete blinked. A hour seemed to pass as they stared at each other, and then the man gestured emphatically, and Pete ― against his better judgement ― stepped cautiously forward and followed the man's finger to the spot he was pointing at.

This had to be a fucking joke.

"Y-you want that?" Pete asked. The man gave another insistent growl, and he leaned away from him, his pulse twinging in his neck.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," he huffed. "Fine. H-hold on, just ― just stay there, okay?"

Pete tried his best to remain calm as he waited for the milk to steam. It was difficult to do with a definitely possible living corpse standing menacingly on the other side of the register, boring holes into his back with cold, dead, surprisingly wide-open eyes. Pete struggled to keep his hands from twitching as he poured espresso into a to-go cup.

When all was said and done, he plonked a large pumpkin spice latte onto the counter with a nervous nod of his head.

The man picked up the cup, and ― seeming to suddenly think of it ― flailed his free hand for a moment before dipping it into a tattered pocket of his jeans and fishing out a small pile of something that might've been a muddy piece of trash, might've just been a clump of dirt, but most certainly was not any form of currency Pete recognized, and slapping it onto the counter. Pete eyed it with barely-concealed disgust.

Then the man took a sip of his drink and smiled. Or at least attempted an approximation of a smile. His skin cracked from his lips out and threatened to fall off his face entirely. He grunted something that sounded suspiciously like 'thank you' and shuffled towards the door, cradling the cup lovingly between both hands.

"Sure thing," Pete mumbled, hovering anxiously at the register as the man leaned against the door, swinging it open and disappearing into the night. Before it even shut, Pete was already striding across the room, grabbing and yanking it closed, flipping the lock and switching off the neon 'open' sign, gripping the handle with shaking hands as he sank to a crouch.

"What the actual fuck."

WIP Title Game

[dweetwise]

day 16: bad day

prompt from: whumptober (tho i misread the title and can’t post to the challenge but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i still like it) pairing: felix x ace notes: felix’s day goes from bad to neutral to Nice (tm). also everyone except david is a shitty person in this lmao. warnings: implied emotional abuse, implied cheating, threat of violence word count: 2900

It was official; this was the worst day of Felix’s life.

It shouldn’t have been. He should have been happy, maybe a little shocked and nervous, but definitely excited. Not anxious, scared and downright spiteful like he felt right now.

His girlfriend was pregnant. They hadn’t been trying, but she was excited to tell him regardless, already thinking of baby names and giving Felix no room to voice any of his doubts. He knew this was what he claimed he’d always wanted, what he knew his parents wanted for him, to continue the family name since he was the last of his line.

He took another swig of the foul-tasting beer and wondered if she’d done it on purpose. She’d been not-so-subtly hinting at marriage for months, and Felix had always brushed her off. Maybe this was her taking matters into her own hands, forcing Felix to commit to her or drag down both his family name and professional image for having a child out of wedlock.

He didn’t want to marry her because she always seemed way more fond of his money than Felix himself, and he didn’t want to have kids because…

Well. He hated children.

He probably should have brought up that particular piece of information sooner, but he wasn’t sure it would have even made a difference. Not to his parents, not to his girlfriend, and certainly not to the ungodly amount of distant relatives and business associates who kept bugging him about settling down and starting a family.

Because, for some reason, dedicating the last twenty years of his life to doing what other people wanted him to do wasn’t enough.

He’d stupidly believed it would get better. That the twelve-hour work days and countless all-nighters on uninspiring projects would eventually pay off, when in reality all it had lead to were more boring projects. He’d thought buying his girlfriend expensive gifts and taking her on weekly dates followed by the obligatory weekly sex would make them fall in love, but instead she was pushing him into commitments he wasn’t ready for.

He downed the rest of the beer and tried to numb out the suffocating feeling of being trapped. He was doomed to keep living his shitty life exactly the way others dictated, and there was nothing he could do to change his fate.

Maybe that’s why he’d chosen this bar. It wasn’t the usual high-end, after-hour cocktail bar next to his office where everyone would recognize him. It was a shitty sports bar owned and frequented by foreigners, where nobody would approach him to congratulate him on the “good news” after his girlfriend e-mailed his entire contacts list in her excitement.

He debated getting another beer, maybe finally being able to pick one that didn’t taste like piss. God, how sad was his life that the biggest act of rebellion he could come up with was getting drunk on cheap beer in a bad part of town?

Felix clutched the glass tighter in his hand, frustrated at his life but also at himself, how he was unable to do anything but play right into everyone else’s plans. Fuck, he needed to do something different, something he’d never even considered would be in the realm of possibilities for him. But what?

He looked around the bar, seeing a group of backpackers animatedly chatting in what sounded like Spanish. He could go travelling, but that wouldn’t accomplish much except buy him a little bit of time. Not to mention his girlfriend would guilt him until he let her come along.

He could always get blackout drunk and puke his guts out in the bathroom. Maybe get into a bar fight. Try to get his hands on some drugs. Hire a prostitute.

Unfortunately none of those things seemed even remotely more thrilling than the bland beer he’d been drinking the entire night.

Felix sighed and buried his face into his hands. For forty years, he’d kept telling himself he wasn’t like everyone else, that he’d do something meaningful in his life, that he was a risk taker and not a conformer.

And he still would; he just didn’t know what. If he only got a sign—

The door to the bar slammed open and Felix snapped his head up from the noise, his table rattling from the impact of the door hitting the wall.

There was a man, his grey hair and cheap suit both wet from the autumn rain, clutching something under his arm while panting like he’d just run a half marathon. He hurried to close the door, and Felix didn’t mean to stare, but it was the most exciting thing to happen all night.

The man caught Felix’s eye and gave a quick grin.

“You saw nothing,” he offered before running up to the bar.

“Don’t tell me ya fuckin’—” the bartender started, clear annoyance on his features.

“Oops, gotta run, I was never here!” the man offered good-naturedly before hopping over the bar and disappearing into the back.

“Ace for fuck’s sake!” the bartender cursed, yelling at the doorway to what had to be a back room or kitchen. Still, he made no move to follow him, instead sighing in agitation and aggressively started cleaning a couple of pint glasses.

Felix realized three things at once; one, the new customer screamed trouble. Two, he clearly knew the bartender. And three, Felix was intrigued.

He made his way to the bar with his empty glass, placing a ten euro bill on the worn wood that earned him a fresh glass of beer in only a couple of seconds. He appreciated that the bartender hadn’t tried to make small talk during the entire evening, and lamented the fact that he had to break the silence.

“Who is your friend?” Felix asked, trying to ignore the self-consciousness that always surfaced when he had to subject the world to his extremely obvious German accent.

“'Friend' is a strong word,” the bartender huffed in annoyance, though it seemed to be directed at the person they were talking about and not Felix. “'A pest who keeps comin' back like a boomerang no matter how many times I kick 'im out' sounds more fitting.”

Felix hummed in acknowledgement and sipped at his beer, deciding to sit down at the bar instead of returning to his table.

“He seems interesting,” Felix mused, trying to fish more information about the man.

Instead of humoring him, the bartender stopped cleaning the glasses and gave him an incredulous stare.

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” he deadpanned. “The hell's a guy like you see in a rat like 'im?”

“That wasn't what I meant,” Felix insisted, staring at his glass in embarrassment. He was just curious, he wasn't… interested, at least not that way. God, why could he never communicate properly? This is why he never tried anything new.

He heard the bartender sigh long and loud, like this wasn't the first time he'd had to put up with a similar situation.

“Look mate, whatever yer thinkin', don't,” he offered, like that was supposed to help Felix at all. “Guy's way more trouble than 'es worth, an' he sure as hell ain't here to make friends.”

Felix didn't have time to reply, not that he even knew what he would have said, before the door slammed open once again and heavy footsteps stomped into the bar.

“Oi!” the bartender shouted in annoyance. “Don't go draggin' mud into my bar!"

“Where is he?” one of the new patrons demanded in German, and his voice was threatening enough to make Felix glance over his shoulder at the new arrivals.

He saw a group of four men that looked like bad news, their cheap clothing and poorly made tattoos making Felix think of some lowly local gang.

“Read the sign, mate,” the bartender scoffed, pointing at a metal plaque in the style of a road sign that said ‘Service in English only’.

“What a fucking moron,” one of the thugs commented, not even attempting to switch languages.

“We know he's here!” the man at the front barked out and proceeded to slam a fist against the bar.

“I got no bloody clue what yer talkin' about!” the bartender claimed. “But if yer gonna come to my bar an' start a fight, so help me—”

"Let's just beat him up!” one of the men was getting impatient.

“For the last time, where is he!?” one of the thugs surged forward and grabbed the bartender by his collar.

“You've got the fuckin' wrong place, I dun know shit about what ya even want!” the bartender, to his credit, didn't even bat an eye. Then again, it looked like he could easily hold his own in a fight.

Felix heard a gasp and noticed one of the Spanish kids cower closer to the corner they were sitting in, observing the scene with fear in her eyes.

The tension in the air seemed like it was about to snap, and instead of making Felix want to bolt into the safety of his mansion, it made his adrenaline start pumping.

This was what he needed. A thrill.

“You heard the man,” Felix raised his voice, finally turning to address the group. “You're in the wrong place.”

“Shut the fuck up, this doesn't involve you!” one of them eloquently responded.

“It started involving me when you barged in and ruined my night,” Felix explained calmly despite feeling his palms start sweating from nervousness, years of faking an unphased persona finally coming to use.

“Okay, the fuck's your problem!?” the guy who seemed to be the leader demanded, finally letting go of the bartender in favor of looming over Felix threateningly.

“I said,” he emphasized, slowly lifting his pint glass to take a sip of his drink and flash his ring with the family insignia. “You've got the wrong place.”

There was a moment of silence when all Felix heard was his own heart beating in his ears, keeping his expression neutral and looking at the thugs like they were nothing more than a fleck of dirt on his expensive suit. Hopefully, they'd recognize the symbol, even if the Richters hadn’t been involved in the local underworld for years, not after the disappearance of his parents.

“The fuck is he on about?” one of the men, who looked to be the youngest, demanded. “Let's just beat them both up and—”

“Shut up,” the leader barked, glancing at Felix fleetingly. “We seem to have gotten lost on the way.”

Felix couldn’t help the smug smile.

“Happens to the best of us,” he said.

The group slowly started slinking out of the bar without further complaints, with Felix's eyes following them the entire time as if daring them to protest.

“Sorry for bother,” one of them even offered to the bartender in questionable English before the door closed after them.

“I'll be damned,” the bartender huffed and crossed his arms, giving Felix a look that could generously be described as somewhat impressed. Felix offered a shaky smile in return before he focused all his attention on staring at the surface of the bar and trying not to tremble from fear as the adrenaline left his body. He hoped it wasn’t obvious he was taking unnecessarily deep breaths and that cold sweat was running down his back under the suit.

That had been the most idiotic thing he had ever done. It was stupid, it was dangerous, and unnecessary and—

And he'd never felt such a rush of absolute victory before.

There was a thud as a beer was placed in front of him, and he glanced up to see the bartender smirking at him.

“It's on the house,” he said in a heavily accented but otherwise fluent German.

Well. It seemed this night was just full of surprises.

Soon after, Felix found himself sitting in a corner booth nursing his two beers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt good, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol buzzing in his system.

He’d proved to himself that he had balls. He was one wrong move away from ending up in a bar fight, and even that thought didn't make him cower in fear like it would have before. Despite never being in a fight before, his confidence was soaring, and he liked to imagine him and the bartender could have easily taken the four thugs.

And then his night only got better as a handsome stranger slid down into the opposite side of the booth.

“So, King told me you saved my ass just now,” the man said with a charming smile, casually leaning closer and propping his chin up on his elbow like they were old friends catching up.

It took Felix longer than he'd like to recognize the man as the one that caught his attention earlier. Without the baseball cap, sunglasses and cheap suit jacket, he cleaned up rather well, dressed in a simple light pink button-up and jeans. Slightly messy, silver hair was a stark contrast to the mischievous brown eyes and almost youthful, cocky smirk on his face.

Felix suddenly realized why the bartender thought he was interested in more than just the man's colorful personality.

“I suppose that's true,” Felix said after a way longer silence than was socially acceptable, but his companion was courteous not to mention anything.

“Well, whether you meant to or not, you have my thanks!” the man grinned good-naturedly. “I would have bought you a beer, but I see David's already got you covered,” he added, gesturing to the two pints where Felix was still working through his first.

“Yes, it's…” Felix started, debating whether he should be honest about his distaste for the drink or not. Fuck it, drunk and brave had worked earlier. “A shame it doesn't make it taste any better.”

The man barked out a laugh and Felix smiled at the success of his joke.

“I know, right?” his companion snickered. “I keep telling him to mix it up, maybe get some nice wines too, but he insists on importing that awful stuff the Brits call beer.”

Felix smiled politely, not knowing what to add to the statement. Regardless of what the bartender—David?—had claimed before, the two definitely seemed to be friends.

“I'm sorry, where are my manners!” the man suddenly seemed to realize, offering his hand over the table. “I'm Ace.”

“Felix,” Felix replied, returning the handshake firmly, like his father and numerous career coaches had taught him.

“So, Felix,” Ace continued, retracting his hand but leaning over the table even further. “What brings you here? I think I'd remember seeing someone like you before.”

Was that flirting? It had been so long since anyone had showed any interest in Felix, he couldn’t even recognize what was just casual conversation, too used to business world small talk about the stock market and someone's secretary's family.

“I needed a change,” Felix said, before realizing he probably shouldn't be revealing too much. “—of scenery,” he hastily added.

Ace regarded him silently for a few heartbeats and Felix gulped down some beer to try not to fret under the scrutinizing gaze.

“Scenery, huh?" Ace hummed. "Seen anything you like so far?”

Okay, that had to be flirting. Right? Felix stared at Ace's face, but the other wasn’t giving anything away. And Felix thought he was good a keeping a straight face.

“Maybe,” he answered simply, keeping eye contact much longer than appropriate on purpose.

Ace didn't look away and Felix wondered if he was the only one who noticed the tension in the air.

He always sucked at flirting, even in his native tongue, and now he had to do it in broken English. He thought he'd been pretty obvious, but he still wasn’t sure if Ace was just being friendly. Maybe he wasn’t even into men.

Well, to be fair Felix didn't think he was either, university time experimentation aside. There was something about this particular night, like he was desperate to prove to himself that he was still capable of making decisions for himself.

He’d always thought he wouldn't cheat, but he also knew that if Ace offered, he wasn’t going to say no. If this was the only thing in his life he still had control over, he was going to make the most of it, and he no longer cared if that made him a bad person.

“You know, I've stayed in a bunch of different hotels in the area while I've been here,” Ace mentioned out of the blue, and Felix furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “There's a pretty good one just down the street.”

Felix swallowed, at last realizing what the other was getting at.

“Really?” he asked, trying to mask his suddenly surfacing nerves.

“Yup. Kinda cozy, very… discreet,” Ace chirped casually, like he was talking about the weather and not propositioning a stranger.

Felix cleared his throat and shoved a hand in his pocket, managing to fish out a crumpled twenty euro bill despite his sweaty palms. He slapped the money on the table, hoping the tip would convey his gratitude to David for setting him up for the best night of his life.

Finally, he stood up from the booth and offered Ace a nervous smile that probably made it glaringly obvious just how eager he was.

“Lead the way."

[alluringoneirataxia]

Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened.  Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.