#its not leaving n i have to post it so it can leave my psyche

[mail-me-a-snail]

can you take my white ass to night city

[dazed--xx]

SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)

T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…

A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open

Chan: school bullying

“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.

A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.

Minho:death of best friend

“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.

A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”

You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.

Changbin: neglect

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.

You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.

Hyunjin: abandonment

“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.

The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Update and More Facts about The One True School Master of Vault 41

The Update:

I've finally been doing more transferring of my notes and partly-written, unordered scenes into one document, so things are in chronological order. Thus far, draft zero of TOTSMOV41 has reached approximately 151 pages, or, by its word count, 48,042 words. Although, a lot of the document is made up of my extraneous notes, so it's not all actually story.

⸻

The Facts:

The fic will have various epigraphs, and one of them is a Japeth quote.

There will be no true epilogue because I'm leaving room for sequel potential.

After the Wizard Tree business unfolds at the Bank of Putsi, the vast majority of the fic is set at the Schools.

I haven't exactly decided on a structure for TOTSMOV41 yet, so it might either consist of a triumvirate of "parts," with each section being exceptionally long, working like a triptych of sorts, or it will be broken up into more traditional chapters, possibly of varying lengths. My plan, once the whole fic is done, would be to post a section per week or so.

Does anyone have an opinion on the structure? At the moment, I'm leaning toward having three, massive sections because it makes the most sense narratively, especially with regards to time and settings, and could flow better.

That said, unless anything changes drastically, the title of part one or chapter one will be: "Of Solipsism, Sophistry, and Storians."

Originally, it was "Of Sophistry and Storians," which I thought was more compact, and it had a better ring to it while more directly featuring the "balance" between "Sophie" and "Storian" that may be present. Yet, ultimately, the longer title proved more accurate to the contents of that part.

The other two parts are tentatively titled: "Great Mistake II and Great Mistake III" and "Phantoms, Prescience, and the Pen."

Also, for your reference, if needed, I've synthesized definitions from various sources:

Solipsism (n) = the quality of being very self-centered or selfish, or, in philosophy, the view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist, that what's in your mind is the only reality that can be known and verified. Solipsism comes from the Latin words for alone (sol) and self (ipse), and means that only the self is real. Alternatively, it implies excessive regard for oneself and one's own interests, to the exclusion of others; preoccupation with oneself; extreme selfishness, centeredness, or self-absorption. Also in a neutral sense: isolation, solitude.

Sophistry (n) =

-The use of specious but fallacious arguments, especially with the intention of deceiving.

-The deliberate use of fallacious reasoning, intellectual charlatanism, and moral unscrupulousness.

-Subtly deceptive reasoning or argumentation.

-Reasoning or arguments that sound correct but are actually false.

-Cunning, trickery, craft.

The entire fic technically takes place over the span of approximately one day, or less than a day, really. It's more like several hours have passed, not days or weeks. Though, it's not as insane as you'd think, probably. Well, the plot itself is insane, admittedly.

Although, perception-wise, to the characters, and experientially, to readers, it will feel as if it all takes place over weeks, instead of a single day. Time flows differently within the crystal, and the broken crystal ball condenses time, and so, whilst in the crystal, Agatha, Sophie, and Rafal experience far more than what several hours would allow in reality.

And, it's not quite time travel, even if that's how it may appear. For a particular, currently undisclosed reason, I'm going to call it "psyche travel," by the term I remember Soman using for ACOT.

Lastly, Rafal will come to dread the prospect of nonexistence, which I intend to treat as a concept distinctly separate from death. Not to worry though! It'll be explained eventually.

[connorsoddsock]

Detroit: Ground Zero | Ch. 3 (Connor x fem!reader)

Summary: You’re an aspiring psych student, ready to take on the world when life takes an unexpected, bloody turn. Flesh eaters now roam the city of Detroit in search of their next meal, an aggressive new deviant group rears its head, and you are caught right in the middle of it. Great…

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity (as usual), descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of death

A/N: Heed the warnings for this chapter, please! This story is only going to get darker, so I may only post on AO3, with only chapter teasers for Tumblr in future... we'll see!

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Chapter Three: Gone

You woke up the next day disoriented and squinting as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of the Detroit Police Department. At some point in the night, the battle to stay awake became too difficult, and you’d slipped off into dreamland with your head resting on Hank’s desk. But, of course, that didn’t explain how you’d ended up lying sideways on a row of chairs lining the wall with someone’s jacket slung over your form.

It was all coming back to you now – the café, the streets, the zombies.

You sat up with a groan and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were quick to spot Fowler pacing in his glass office, mumbling lowly into his phone. The man looked unbelievably tired, but he still acknowledged you with a slight nod when he saw you were awake before returning to the person on the other end of the line.

 Then, there was Gavin leaning back in a chair on the opposite side of the bullpen, eyes closed with his arms crossed and his legs resting across what you assumed was probably his desk. You noticed he no longer wore his leather jacket, but it wasn’t the one currently draped over you. You eventually spotted it, thrown carelessly atop a counter cabinet in the centre of the room, still very much covered in blood.

You couldn’t see Nines anywhere, but Hank now occupied the desk you were at last night, scrolling through something on his terminal while Connor sat beside him with his eyes closed and his blue LED flickering. His jacket was missing, leaving him in a crisp white button-down that did little to hide his lean frame. You gingerly lifted the one off your torso, eyes widening when you spotted the faint blue glow of the notorious armband and logo.

You shot up a little too abruptly, legs wobbling in protest. “Ah, shit…”

“Mornin’, kid,” Hank acknowledged, his blue eyes barely leaving the terminal. “How’d you sleep?”

Connor stirred beside him, brown eyes fluttering open. He regarded you with that same small smile from last night, the one you liked a little too much.

You rubbed the back of your neck, “Surprisingly well, aside from the fact that my neck hurts like a bitch.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the lieutenant chuckled. “Feel free to help yourself with some coffee or whatever in the break room. There’re doughnuts, too, if the others haven’t eaten ‘em.”

You nodded before looking back to Connor, who, to your surprise, was still watching you. You flushed and held his jacket out to him, quietly muttering your thanks as he accepted it. His fingers gently brushed over yours, and you flinched at the contact. He seemed to notice this, for his brow furrowed slightly in question.

“I did what I could with your jacket, but I suggest a dry clean for a more effective option.” He remarked, choosing not to comment on your jumpiness. “I hung it over the door for you.”

 “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to do that...”

“I think mine could use a wash, too, don’t you think, tin can?”

Your eyes rose to meet Gavin’s as he swung his legs down from his desk, fully awake now. The talking must have woken him.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with that?”

“What’s with what?” He replied.

“The stupid little nickname,” you clarified. “Tin can? Really?”

“Why? You one of those android sympathisers or something?”

“I mean, it’s free not to be an asshole.”

An obnoxious laugh fell past his lips, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, doll?”

Connor piped up this time, “She wasn’t on a bed, Detective Reed.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, tin can-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, would ya?” Hank groaned, pulling back from his terminal with a frown directed at the three of you. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “It’s way too early for this shit.”

A quick glance at your watch told you it was half-six.

Gavin’s lips curled into a shit-eating grin as his eyes fell on you again, sending you an infuriating wink. You rolled your eyes for the second time and marched off to the break room, where the other three officers were tucking into their doughnuts and coffee. They greeted you, offering you a box of sweet treats to browse through while they introduced themselves.

“I’m Officer Person,” the female officer said warmly. She gestured to the others, “These two are Officers Lewis and Wilson.”

They nodded at you, and you waved, “Hey.”

Person nudged your arm as she leaned over, a hand blocking the view of her mouth as she pretended to whisper. “I’d take the whole box if I were you. These two here are dubbed the department’s ‘doughnut kings’ – and trust me, it’s not a compliment.”

Lewis grinned sheepishly around a mouthful of food while Wilson scoffed, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember that the next time Fowler orders those custard-filled Krispy Kremes you like.”

You giggled into your hand as a round of bickering ensued and left them to it, so you could fumble around in the kitchen for a bit, deciding to make yourself some hot chocolate. You absently paid attention to the news segment playing on the wall-mounted TV. It was only quiet, but you didn’t need to hear to know what they were talking about. Disturbing videos of people recording the infected – this was the official term for them now – wandering around outside their homes; others were holed up in offices, fast food restaurants, and so on.

The screen transitioned to another news chopper hovering above a ritzy neighbourhood you’d travelled past many times. The well-known freelance reporter, Joss Douglas, was talking up a storm, eyes wide as he gestured to the building in the background. The cameras then zoomed into a black chopper in the distance – SWAT?

That can’t be good, you thought with apprehension.

The others were paying attention, too, now. More hovering and talking, and suddenly, there was a thunderous booming sound. The camera shook violently before the live feed cut out to a black screen, and it wasn’t long before you heard the real thing in the distance, startling you as the ground rumbled beneath your feet. Your cup slipped out of your hand, spilling hot chocolate everywhere.

The reaction was instant. Chairs in the bullpen rolled back as their owners stood, alarmed, and Captain Fowler stormed out of his office with a slam of the door against the railing. Lewis, Person and Wilson went to join him in the bullpen, and you froze, unsure of what to do. A series of hushed shouting ensued, mainly between Fowler and Hank, so you decided to stay in your temporary safe haven until they finished hashing it out.

That is until you saw Nines. The tall android was lingering in the hallway; his eyes narrowed and calculating as he watched the scene unfold before him. His stance was rigid, his arms practically pinned to his side.

Was he there the whole time?

You wondered what was going through his mind. Was he worried? Anxious? Was he itching to get out in the field and regain some semblance of control? He looked like that kind of person. Someone that liked to be in control – liked order. Of course, you knew next to nothing about deviated androids and their personalities, so you were going purely off his appearance here.

Icy eyes suddenly met yours, and you faltered, quickly moving to clean up the mess you’d made. You could feel the burn of his eyes lingering on the back of your neck as you knelt down, preying he couldn’t tell how fast your heart was racing. What was it about him that… unsettled you?

Someone called your name, “Are you all right?”

It was Connor. He was crouching beside you with a trash can for the soiled paper towels. You subtly peeked around him, somewhat relieved to find Nines had disappeared again.

“Y-yeah, just startled, that’s all. What’s going on?”

“The government has issued an official warning to evacuate central Detroit. The military has set up a quarantine zone for survivors on the city’s outskirts.”

“Shit,” your shoulders slumped at the news.

You still haven’t heard anything from your parents yet. Should you try calling again? Should you bite the bullet and head over to the hospital?

Connor was quick to notice your hesitance. “I highly recommend going to the quarantine zone,” he insisted. “It’s the safest option for you.”

“What about you?” You asked after some thought. “Where will you go?”

Your question seemed to throw him off guard, his brown eyes flitting up to yours. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“I go where Hank goes.”

Your lips twitched into a smile at his response. Their father-son dynamic was really quite adorable. Your neck craned back slightly to maintain eye contact with him as he straightened up beside you, the last of the mess finally cleaned up.

“You reckon he’ll mind if I tag along?”

He returned your smile then. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

The two of you joined the others back out in the bullpen after Connor kindly offered to rewrap your wounded palms and make you another hot chocolate. You’d stood at the bar tables yet again as he moved around the break room with surprising fluidity, blatantly checking him out every time his back was turned. It was difficult not to when there was nothing else to focus on.

Someone else had joined the ranks, you noticed – or re-joined the ranks, that is. Chris – the officer who’d stayed behind at the café – had returned, standing beside Gavin with folded arms. He looked a little worse for wear (no different to Fowler) as he nodded along to whatever his co-worker was saying to him. You didn’t know him, but you were glad he was safe. You could only wonder what happened to the others at the café and made a mental note to ask him later.

You tuned into Fowler’s words.

“Since shit’s hit the fan, I want all of you to take what you need. Head office has bigger things to worry about than some missing equipment. If things continue the way they are, then I doubt it’ll matter anyway...” He drifted off.

“Appreciate it, Sir,” Officer Wilson said gratefully. He clapped his superior on the shoulder, “I’m sure we’ll catch up at the QZ anyway, right?”

“I’m heading straight there!” Officer Person chimed in, “I haven’t got any family to worry about here.”

You wished you could say the same. You could only hope yours had gotten the message and were on their way already.

 “Alright, folks,” Fowler continued, looking disgruntled. “Do what you need to do, and for God’s sake, stay safe out there.”

Everyone was quick to disperse after that, quietly muttering to each other as they prepared to leave. You sat quietly at Hank’s desk once again after retrieving your jacket from the restroom door. The dark blood stains were noticeable, but it would have to do for now. Depending on what way Hank was heading, perhaps you could ask to stop at your apartment building if it wasn’t overrun. You could change into better clothing, and you couldn’t leave your cats to suffer.

Hank eventually joined you with a DPD-issued duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He inclined his head towards you, “Connor says you want to come with us?”

“If you don’t mind, of course.”

He chuckled, “Heh, if you don’t mind being squished in the backseat with him, then knock yourself out!”

“He’s not sitting shotgun?” You asked, finding it odd.

“He usually does, but Nines is coming, too. He’s bigger than Connor, so I figured I’d stick him up the front. Save you from being flattened and all.”

You pursed your lips. If Hank and Connor liked him enough to let him tag along, then surely, he was alright. On the other hand, perhaps you’d judged him too quickly. He could be the sweetest guy out there for all you knew.

It wasn’t long before the two androids joined you and Hank, Nines also shouldering a large duffle bag. You followed them as they led the way to the car. It was unnervingly quiet in the station’s garage, your footsteps echoing along with theirs. Your eyes widened when Hank unlocked his car. Finally, it dawned on you why he was so amused about you being squished in the back.

He pulled his seat forward so you could climb in. Once Connor hopped in beside you, there really wasn’t much room left. He apologised not once but twice as his knee knocked into yours while he tried to adjust himself into a comfortable position. Since he was tall, he had to keep his legs apart lest they dig into the back of the driver’s seat.

You buckled up as the car started, Nines now situated in front of you. You nearly shat yourself when the speakers blared heavy metal music. Hank swore and shut it off completely.

“Fuck, I really hope none of those things are around,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I scanned the garage upon entering,” Nines declared, surprising you with his deep voice. “We are the only ones here, save for Detective Reed.”

Despite what he’d said, you couldn’t stop your eyes from searching out the window. Thankfully, you only saw Gavin hopping into the driver’s seat of a black Jeep in the distance. He was shaking his head, most likely in response to the obnoxious show he’d just witnessed from Hank.

“What way are we headed?” You asked as the lieutenant backed out.

“Why’s that?”

You hesitated. “If it’s on the way, I wanted to stop by to grab a few things and let my cats free.”

Connor asked for your address, and you told him. He addressed Hank after a few flickers of his LED. “It’s not too far from yours, Hank.”

The lieutenant looked at you in the rear-view mirror then. “We’ll check it out, then.”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, tensing as the car pulled out into the street. Your eyes immediately landed on some infected wandering around out the front of the station. Those demonic screams you’d heard last night returned as they spotted the car and began sprinting towards it. Hank put his foot down and sped off, giving them no time to catch up.

Turning in your seat, you watched them as they did the same thing to Gavin’s black Jeep as it pulled out of the garage. You winced as he ran one of them over. Whether it was unintentional or not, you were unsure. Though, if you had to guess, it was most likely the latter.

Wonder where he’s heading…

Unsurprisingly, a few other cars were zipping around without a care in the world for the stop signs and lights they were flying through. Momentum had you sliding and bumping into Connor several times as Hank swerved to avoid them, cursing and flipping the bird in the hopes they’d see it. Unfortunately, they most likely wouldn’t.

“Would you like me to drive, Lieutenant?” Nines asked finally after another swerve.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a touch of cheek in his tone.

You caught Hank rolling his eyes in the mirror, “I’ve got it, smartass.”

You held in a giggle. So, Nines was being cheeky, then.

Ten minutes later, the car was parallel parked between some dumpsters in a quiet back street that led to your apartment complex. You fished around in your pocket for your access card and unbuckled your seat belt to get out while Hank went on about ‘being sitting ducks out here’ and that ‘you had ten minutes, tops’.

You were surprised when Connor followed behind you as Nines let you out but thankful to have the company. The two androids shared a silent look, their LEDs flickering before Nines left you to it. A flash of irritation slipped across Connor’s face, but it was gone before you could get a good look.

You frowned. What was that about?

Shaking your head, you took the lead and led Connor up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. The hallways were insanely quiet. No muffled noises of TVs from behind closed doors, no shouting from that noisy neighbour a few doors down, no kids causing a racket at nine in the morning – it was nerve-wracking but expected.

A look of horror crossed your face when you noticed the door to your home was already open, a few food wrappers and clothes articles scattered across the floor leading out. It was hard to miss the splatters of blood along with it, though you couldn’t tell if it was leading in or out.

Connor immediately took the lead, gently beckoning you behind him, even as his face hardened into a dark expression. His posture was rigid as if waiting for an attack, and you just knew he was scanning the apartment when the two of you cautiously entered. He seemed to be weighing up his options as he paused in the middle of your trashed living room, his left hand reaching for something inside his jacket and then stopping as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

Your eyes worriedly searched for any signs of your cats, but there were none. Even their food and water bowls were missing, which was alarming. Had someone taken them? Were they somewhere in the building?

You experimentally tiptoed away from Connor to try and catch a glimpse inside your kitchen, but he glared at you (a first – and hopefully the last because, damn, that sent shivers down your spine), and you halted at his silent command. There was no way he was about to let you wander off on your own, even if you knew this place like the back of your hand.

He proceeded further into your apartment, entering a small hall that housed the main bedroom, your parent’s guest suite and the bathroom. Blood scraped along the walls this time, and it was clear they led to your room. The door was ajar, and you noticed with a sinking feeling in your stomach a few clumps of grey fur on the carpet.

You froze on the spot, your breaths coming out shakier when your ears finally picked up the sounds of crunching and squelching from inside – the tell-tale signs that the infected were nearby.

Connor pushed onward, crouching slightly as he nudged the door open fully. Crouched over your beloved pets was a lone infected woman, hands bloodied as she shovelled innards in her mouth. You couldn’t hold in the gasp that escaped your mouth at the gory sight, tears welling in your eyes.

Big mistake.

Her attention snapped up to you, and there was a split second before she completely bypassed Connor and hurled herself toward you. That awful, high-pitched shriek sounded so much louder inside your small hallway, leaving your ears ringing. The air left your lungs as you were tackled to the floor, very nearly knocking your head for the second time in two days.

Connor was quick to tear her away from you, hurling her back into the bedroom with a strength humans would struggle to match. His larger frame proceeded to block the doorway, preventing the frenzied monster from reaching you as she continued to howl.

“H-holy shit!” You uttered out of pure shock.

She was completely ignoring the android in front of her, her arms reaching around him in a failed attempt to take a swipe at you.

“She doesn’t see me!” Connor quickly confirmed your thoughts, grunting as he shoved her back again and shut the door behind him, leaving you to deal with the revelation alone.

Of course, she wouldn’t. Unlike you, he wasn’t made of flesh, warm blood and bone. He was made of hard plastic, long wires, and blue blood. He wasn’t the tasty meal here. You were - the human. It was easy to forget that when Connor was so human himself.

A muffled gunshot sounded from inside the room, and you jumped, taking a cautious step toward it. “C-Connor?” You called out, voice unbelievably shaky.

The door swung open again, and Connor surged forward, wrapping his long arms around you. You heard the door click shut but couldn’t find it in you to care as hot tears finally began to roll down your cheeks. A hand gently ran through your hair while the other maintained a firm grip on your back.

After what felt like hours, he pulled back and assessed your form. You shook your head to tell him you were fine, the words unable to audibly leave your mouth. He finally straightened up, eyes and LED flickering momentarily like they had when he’d communicated silently with Nines. Were they talking again?

“Is there anything you want from your room?” He asked, deep brown eyes searching your face. He still didn’t seem convinced you were okay. “It’s better if I get it for you.”

“Just s-some clothes… if you could. T-there’s uh…” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself. “There’s a backpack near the bed. Just stuff whatever you think I'll need in there."

He moved to enter the room again, but you quickly grabbed his hand, shocking the both of you. His gaze landed on you again, inquisitive this time. “And please, if their collars are in there, could you…?” You trailed off, but he seemed to understand.

Tears continued to fall even after he’d retrieved your belongings, even after he led you back outside and helped you into the car, ignoring Nines probing stare and Hank’s questions of ‘what the fuck happened’ and ‘why’d you take so long.’ They only stopped when you fell into a restless nap, head resting atop Connor’s shoulder.

You would worry about their questions later.

[captainsjack]

📓 I haven’t gotten to your most recently posted fics yet, but I can’t wait to have the time!! Always get excited when you post!

ahh tysm!! lowkey i wrote those new ones an entire year ago and never posted them until now😳

i'm currently fixated on other stuff rn (if u couldnt tell lol) so idk when/if i'll write for shawngus again!? that said i have SO MANY wips for them that i never got around to dfkjfdjkfdkj i was looking through all of them to see which one to tell you about and?? lowkey i found the first fic i ever came up with for them and it kinda still slaps! i literally remember writing it during my ap psych class senior year of high school lmaooo

anyways so basically gus is about to get married to rachel and shawn's helping him get ready and it's like 5 mins before the wedding when shawn's like "gus don't get married." and gus is all "wtf shawn" and then shawn ends up telling gus he's in love with him and should be marrying him. and gus gets mad bc this is so stressful and why is shawn telling him now of all things, he has a wedding to get to goddamnit! and then its the wedding via gus pov and his reflection on his relationship with shawn and stuff. and he doesn't know whether or not he's in love with shawn.

then it's the reception and shawn gives his best man speech except they're really just vows aren't they? and they're all about timing and how timing sucks n shawn can barely keep it together. and when he finishes he just like. leaves. and gus follows him and shawn's kinda having a breakdown in the bathroom and then they talk more about what shawn said and then gus kisses him. n then thoughts n feelings n shit u know? and then gus tells shawn he isn't not in love with him but also he doesn't know if he is, and it's all just too confusing. then shawn leave bc he can't stomach being at the wedding any longer but at least now he and gus are on good terms.

gus goes back to the wedding reception n u know is conflicted and all that good shit.

then shawn's at the office and he gets shot. then henry's there bc he had followed him when he saw gus go back inside alone (he kinda knew what was going on before the wedding)

so he calls vick and she tells gus & crew shawn's shot and on the way to the hospital.

so then gus feelings and realizations of love while waiting for shawn to come out of surgery, of course bc they deserve this trope ok?

and then when shawn's awake gus tells him he loves him and they kiss!! and gus stays in the hospital with him and takes care of him. and then he goes and talks to rachel and explains everything and they get divorced and shawn and gus live happily ever after the end

-

ask me about my wips!

[yellowloid]

hello! I saw you made a post on the analysis of the ultracheese and honestly it was such an intriguing read! I read that that you believed golden trunks was an even more meaningful song when related to miles and alex and I would really really rEALLY love to hear what you have to say about golden trunks because honestly its one of my favorite songs

hello and thank you!!! always happy to hear people enjoy my song theories ❤️

golden trunks is one of my favourites too and i was d y i n g to analyse it. it's just such a unique song sound and lyric-wise, definitely in my top three in tbhc.

(as always, disclaimer: this is just a fan theory and everything i'm gonna say is 100% subjective. i'm not claiming it's the Real Meaning TM of the song bc 1) songs can have multiple meanings depending on the lens that is used to analyse them and 2) we'll never actually know what alex meant by writing it. we only know it's the closest thing to a love song in the album, featuring a conversation between him and someone he's falling for. nothing else is set in stone.)

but let's get to the actual analysis, shall we?

to me, this song is about miles. 100% about miles. the person he's talking to, and the person he's falling (or has already fallen) for is miles. there are theories going around on the internet saying it's about taylor or even louise, which are both??? kinda senseless theories??? first let's talk about taylor: why would he create that same sense of secrecy (that is present in songs such as the ultracheese) in this one, if it were a song about his (at the time) girlfriend? why would he add that 'we're friends but i'm falling for you' vibe (that we can find in diwk too) in a song about his current partner? why would he admit to fantasising about that person (keyword: admit, like it took him some time to come to terms with it) in a song about his so of literal years? tbh it doesn't make any sense to me.

and then louise... a bit more plausible since it would at least explain the secrecy if he was cheating, but then again, still doesn't really make sense. what's with the wrestling references. i don't think she's a wrestling fan, and if she is, she's never publicly shown she is. not that she needs to, ofc, but... you know. this theory usually comes from twitter fans who can't even bear the idea of it being about miles, because god forbid someone ever mentions the idea of alex and miles being a thing!!!! so really considering the source of this "theory" is twitter i wouldn't give it much more thought lmao

so now onto the lyrics...

"last night when my psyche's / subcommittee sang to me in its scary voice / you slowly dropped your eyelids / when true love takes a grip, it leaves you without a choice"

this is such an interesting and powerful opening verse to a song. it's so cryptic, and at the same time so blunt. he admits to being a victim of night-time overthinking, that moment when you keep tossing and turning in bed and sleep just won't come to you, dooming you to unwanted thoughts, realisations and fears coming together to haunt you through the night. he's scared of those voices in his head, whispering all those truths to him that he doesn't even want to consider; his mind is being flooded by snaps of the person he's maybe trying not to think too much about, but at the same time he knows it's a losing game: there's no choice to be made, no power held over the images that keep shooting through his mind. he also seems to realise something about the person in question: the possibility of them being his "true love" (or, similarly, him being this person's "true love", hence them admitting to fantasising about him). once again, this is extremely important because he rarely ever refers to love so directly in his songs, and i don't think it's a coincidence he does it here as well as in the ultracheese. having no choice could also refer to him finally coming to the realisation that - despite the fact that he's still so scared of the whole situation - he can't run away anymore. there's no choice, he has to acknowledge the facts because they're all there, hiding in plain sight. there's no way he can escape the truth, and that terrifies him. but he does acknowledge it, as he sings:

"and in response to what you whispered in my ear / i must admit, sometimes i fantasise about you too"

i can just so easily imagine him and miles sitting entirely too close to each other in some booth at a bar, the unspoken boundaries of friendship getting blurred as too much alcohol gets in the way, and miles leaning closer and closer to him just to whisper in his ear that he sometimes fantasises about him in ways friends shouldn't. or as they rehearse their songs right before/during the eycte tour, which always reminds me of this quote:

MK: I remember, one time Alex came up to me and said "I want to see how you spit, while singing "sick puppy" in Bad Habits. I called him a madman afterwards.

AT: Yeah...

MK: But he was right. No one else would say something like that to me, It was beautiful.

AT: You see, Kasia, I just tell Miles about my fantasies, and he tries to fulfill them, even when they are very kinky, like in that case.

(full interview here)

or even during concerts, since we all know how much they loved whispering god-knows-what to each other during song breaks, then proceeding to giggle and flirt with each other like they weren't being watched by an entire crowd sksldklsh. they seemed to be self-aware of this, as they also used to take the piss and play with interviewers when asked about it:

Interviewer: What sort of things do you say to eachother on stage?

Alex: Dark, twisted and very private things.

Miles: You'd think we were freaks if you knew some of the things we talk about on stage. We talk about weird things that don't really make sense to anyone else.

(i think this is from nme, i haven't been able to find the original interview but you can read something more here)

however, imo alex admitting to fantasising about the other person in this song makes his confession so heartbreaking. a while ago me and @jewellersstunts were talking about the fact that it's just so easy to imagine miles whispering something like that to him, maybe during a concert, and him being taken by surprise + generally bad at expressing his emotions through spoken words + him being insecure about their situationship and his identity and just... not saying anything in reply. maybe brushing it off as a joke, when in reality they both knew it wasn't. now, following the fandom theory of them still being friends but having some kind of falling out after the eycte era due to the unclear nature of their relationship - miles getting serious and alex chickening out -, let's fast forward to a couple of years after the tour. when things aren't the same anymore and alex is there, all alone by himself, dwelling on the past, on what once was and what could have been... and him finally finding the courage to give miles a reply through the veil of song, because that's the only way he could ever really be able to express his emotions in some kind of neat fashion (+ i think a similar development was also featured in one of WeirdChick333's fics which as we all know are the canon milex bible so there's that)

i also can't help but think of miles' own album when i think of this song. whereas golden trunks is filled with regret and it's like saying "i didn't give you a reply when you said it, but i'm saying it now. it probably doesn't change anything though, and i'll have to live with that for the rest of my life", coup de grace as an album (and may i say, ESPECIALLY wrong side of life which is my absolute favourite miles song ever) is like saying "yeah you didn't say anything then. you broke my heart and and you keep breaking it every single day, we fought so much and nothing is the same anymore, but i don't care because i want you and you want me, so can we please, please try again?". i think that's really telling of their personalities. tbhc as a whole has a very pessimistic vibe, even though it rarely ever addresses private matters that directly (with golden trunks and the ultracheese being the most direct songs, but still being incredibly cryptic and mysterious). cdg is sad and angry and heartbroken about a nasty breakup, but in general i'd say it still holds some kind of hope for that relationship to be salvageable.

but i'm digressing. let's keep going:

"the leader of the free world / reminds you of a wrestler wearing tight golden trunks / he's got himself a theme tune / they play it for him as he makes his way to the ring"

the reference to wrestling (and possibly to something that actually happened) could be a way for alex to make it clear, even to miles himself, that this song is about him. if it were indeed something that actually happened (them watching a wrestling match or the news, and miles pointing out trump's similarity with that wrestler), then when miles listened to the song - if he still had any doubts - it'd be irrevocably clear to him that alex was talking to him. it'd be some kind of secret code, an inside joke between them turned into a way for alex to make sure miles knew. (also lmao at the twitter fans going to great lengths to prove this verse is about taylor or louise when they've never expressed any interest in wrestling while miles has been a big fan for ages. @ amtwitter bffr)

now, i don't remember if he's referring to an actual wrestler that wore golden trunks as part of his costume and that reminded miles of trump, but the mention of wrestlers in general also reminds me of a very interesting addition by @reconciledviolence729 to my ultracheese analysis. she said:

"For some reason I got fixated on the line: “And dress like a fictional character / From a place they called America / In the golden age.” I can’t help but think how Miles dressed as Ric Flair, who was a significant persona during the “golden era” of American professional wrestling (which is often considered at least somewhat faked aka fictional)."

going back to golden trunks, this verse also introduces some kind of indirect commentary on politics, which is present in other songs from the album and which continues in the next lines:

"in the daytime / bendable figures with a fresh new pack of lies / summat else to publicise / i'm sure you've heard about enough"

(quick aside: "bendable figures" could also be interpreted as a very suggestive image. not gonna elaborate any further on that)

in this reddit theory it is suggested that this mirrors the "breaking news, they take the truth and make it and fluid" verse from american sports, and i think that's a very interesting parallel. however, this part also introduces a contrast to the opening line (last night / in the daytime) which hits us with a sinister dilemma. we like to think that the (often pessimistic) conclusions about our life that we come to at night aren't to be trusted. nighttime does that, it tends to fuck with our rationality by making everything seem scarier, more threatening and disheartening than it usually is. our minds tend to lie to us at night. but here he says that the "fresh new pack of lies" comes during daytime. so what's more trustworthy, night or day? the scary, truthful voices of night or the blatant lies of day? he doesn't give any clear answer to this question. he just leaves us with the doubt, instead bringing the song to a close with newly-found courage:

"so in response to what you whispered in my ear / i'll be upfront, sometimes i fantasise about you too"

the difference with the previous "i fantasise about you too" line is obviously the use of "i'll be upfront" instead of "i must admit" - which is such a slight change, but it's still so important. the use of 'must' and 'admit' imply a certain degree of forceful admission. he finds he can't hide it anymore, and has to at least take notice of it in some way. he doesn't necessarily want to admit it, because he wishes he could still keep that confession to himself. on the other hand, saying "i'll be upfront" is so powerful on his part. he not only acknowledges the feeling, but he takes a big breath and finally comes forward, announcing it without any second thoughts. he finally finds the right way to actually reply, even if it took him so long to do it. and yes, maybe it won't change anything, but this song is a way for him to send out a message, and the fact that he managed to write it and include it in the album (despite never being able to play it live - which makes it even more sus) is a testament to how much of his heart he put into it, how much deep emotion and reflection and courage it took him to be able to compose it and sing it. and that's exactly what makes it so incredibly special.

[enri-ch]

✨Intro-Post✨

(last update 04/09/24)

u can call me Enrico/Enri/En/Enca/Enri'ch/Ench/Rico/N/Cocha/'cha-cha/etc., whatever you want!:33

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¡Bright Warning!

pls remember, most of my works have very bright shadows, so before you watch them, lower the brightness (I'm so sorry if I burned out your eyes:(...)

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I don't take

commission

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Art Requests

4.09. 24

[Close now]

01. 08. 24

-allowed: your Ocs/Fandom character

-not allowed: ships (i can explain in dm, if you want to know, but so far, I can't draw it in request arts for personal reasons)/nsfw/gore/other bad messages.

-you can request my art 2 times

-the request can include up to 2 persons maximum

-i can decline request if it is immoral

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about questions:

dont be shy and ask questions as much as you want or say something

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If you want to do art trade/collab with me, then write to me in DM :D

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Please don't repost my artwork without credits if want to use or repost it

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A some info about me:

My bday 29/01 (January).

I loves every rose/pink colours >:3

minor

i have 23 phobias that throw me into hysterics sometimes💀- (The strongest of course is atelophobia and sociaphobia lol). Yes, I have a rather weak psyche... (or fears??? idk, it still makes me shake from many things🥲...)

I madly adore cappuccino:33

i dont know Spanish

Im aro/ace

What to say next?....

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Things I post:

A. LOT. OF. FANART!!!! :D

sometimes submissions for DTIYS

rarely redraws

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Sometimes I can disappear for a while because of my studies-

(This year I'm going to be beaten up with exams, so... :_)

Have fun! I'm happy to share my joy with everyone through my artwork, draw or cheer up, if I can:)

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✨Other Social Networks:✨

°My pinterest° page:

@/En's doodles :3

°Мy insta°:

@/enri_cocha_here

You can go to them if you want to see more of my ut fanarts/doodles and my other works.

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other my blogs on tumblr:

@dumbestart (old doodles acc.)

@gsfan (idk why, but i can note it and I don't get a notification from it:_( its current doodle acc.)

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if you want to chat with my ocs use c. ai and share my page: @/CochaCocha.

remember that bots can say non-canon things and they is headcanon/fanon/aus vers.

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¡(please DNI if you are)!: proshipper, don't mock someone because of nationality (all those who insult Ukrainians, Russians or other nations, please leave this blog). russophobe, other phobe, pedos, groomer, fetishist, racist, NSFW fan, transphobe, sexist, immoral persons, lovers of controversial topics and etc. (all basic creterias*). i will block these blogs.

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✨my sona's ref:✨

(it's an ordinary person in a mask and an oversized hoodie)

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To be honest, I'm very bad at English grammar, so I use a translator.

Im creator of ⛰️MountainsTale⛰️ (unfinished now)

08.05.24

I'm still working on my au, but I'll be honest, I'm not able to write anything except fanfic yet (I'll probably never be happy with the plot I wrote myself) and I have a lot of unsuccessful designs for most of the characters, including Rudy (aka Gaster in this au). My inner tedious-self will never let me write a non-logical plot without explaining any details, unfortunately:>

01.08.24

I have the plot and less characters written there, such as: Rudy (Gaster), Sans, Chara, Papyrus, Frisk and the concepts of the rest.

Rudy, by the way, has a human name for a reason. And I'll be honest, I was partially inspired by Glichtail, but there is not and will not be a soul/trait of fear.

I'm also working on a fanon of monster/humans/magic now (it's a very long T_T).

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I btw.... when I gave my sona a name/nicname, I didn't know how her name was translated (I mean "Enrich" ). I actually didn't even know that the name Enri existed (I was 12 when I created she) and honestly just took and combined my real name with the name of my past gacha club sona. My English is still bad enough, but when I first started my blog here it was even worse :D (I didn't even know what mutuals, dnis and all that were, lol). I don't even understand how those with whom I communicated tolerated my stupidity:_)

i know that its male name, but auuuuuuuugh, i got used to this name, my sona has already been wearing it for 3 years (and not the first one)

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I also sometimes don't control my anxiety when communicating with anyone, so I'm sorry for that (I just get eaten up by my a sociaphobia sometimes-).

im introvert irl.

yes, I know I'm chatty and I'm always talking, but hey, why do I need a reason to hang out with someone here? I'm happy to chat with anyone if you also want to talk to me and don't fall under one of the criteria of DNI (written above)

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I do not know if you need it, but my fav Sans(-es) are Asher(EstelTale) [by Colorzartz], Ink (Inktale/____tale) [by Comyet] and Passive Nightmare (Dreamtale) [by Jokublog].👀

My fav character is Gaster too👉👈 (my headcanon/fanon ver. etc.)

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I'm not against criticism, on the contrary, I'm even for it, I'll be glad to read it to understand my mistakes^^

Please don't hard hit me, I'm not an artist =). I just draw arts in my spare time to relax from the stress of the day. I've been drawing for about 3-4 years. I tried to go to an art class (I studied there for 6.5 years), but I was expelled because I can't draw anything except "cartoons" (idk how they determined this:/ So, I very hate this school because it deprived me of self-esteem, bullied me and pretty gave me a burnout). This is probably not surprising, considering that I took a 5-month break from art class due to terrible emotional burnout ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (I came to this school and couldn't even pick up a pencil). In any case, I really like to draw, and I sincerely love all my artwork (except maybe super old- ), no matter how bad and anatomically incorrect they may be. They were right when said :"You never become to an artist, its not correctly, etc.", but aaaaaaaa, I love draw, cuz It lets my imagination run wild and allows me to relieve the stress and pain that people in my school cause me, so even if I'm not an artist, no one will stop me from drawing all sorts of garbage, I love it!

(p. s. I don't know how to draw traditional arrrrrrtttssssss-)

To be honest, if I hadn't started a blog where I share my art to day, I probably would have given up drawing and wouldn't have improved it if I hadn't been inspired by the people I subscribe to here. I used to be very afraid to publish my work anywhere at a younger age (mostly because of the very aggressive ru community in which I was a member for some time). I really thought that I would face a barrage of criticism (non-constructive ofc) there, but here are very kind people here, really no kidding, most of you are such cool and pleasant guys💗!

oh- i reblog very rarely cuz I forget this very often :_)

eh. my memory is short

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Have a great day to everyone who has visited my blog or read this post! :D ... And.. I want to hug u🫂, srry if I embarrassed u with this (*´▽`*)

[dullahandyke]

cant be bothered to make mulitple posts. have one post with many contents, it is like a treasure chest. also whoops got long teehee take a readmore

BOOBS. boobs. tits and boobs. soft and eueueuugughghghgh fun to squish and heavy and smell nice. society if i had someone to fool around with. kissing doesnt sound that appealing but if i played w someones boobs it would fix me i think. sorry. not sorry actually #liveyourtruth. whaever im 19 i can post abt whatever i want n what i wanna post abt is boobs

not to hammer home an old thought but god i wish i lived in a town or a village or a city... theres literally fuck all to do here unless i wanna bug my parents for a ride into town so instead i just sit inside n its kind of detrimental to my social life n indepence. like on the plus side, i might have considered taking up vaping in a calculated 'swapping one vice for another' way if living in the middle of a field didnt make getting my hands on any on a regular basis so utterly implausible, so like its good detterant in that way, but also like man do you know how psyched i would be to be able to walk to the cinema. walk to any store where i could buy things. u know how long google maps says it would take to walk to my local library? two hours. cant even go anywhere to hang out on a whim or without enough reason to justify bothering my parents abt it. like all going well ill hopefully be in the city for college come september but like. killing and bitingggggg

graduating in a week and AUGH on one hand out the gap waheyyy only a month until exams are DONE FOREVER (until college) but on the other hand, fuck man im never gonna see this school again, i barely hang out w my friends outside of school unless its someones 18th which in practice means that after the debs thats IT!!!!!oh my god im going to DIE, i need to go find cliodna on instagram so i can follow her because shes nice. ill be sitting in random classrooms in school lately n be hit w the fucking melancholy because im like oh boy soon i'll never see this place again and its like... intellectually i know that i am not one to dwell on shit like this after its happened, as evidenced by the 'oh god my friends are all going off to college, itll only be me and the kiddies in the youth theatre next year' crisis i had last spring, after which i was Fine Actually and rarely even thought of the ppl who left bcos i have the object permanence of a 2 month old, and in practice this summer is gonna be the same as every summer is and i didnt see a single one of my irls during summer last year and i was fine but like.... idk man knowing its the end.... kills

speaking of which, oh my GOD the leaving starts in *checks watch* 22 DAYS. FUCK. like the points i need for my course are actually pitiful like but 🥺 wanna do good... do i regularly and loudly disparage the english course and maintain that the only real measure of one's writing capabilities is your own evaluation? yes! do i still want a H1? also yes! it would be the easiest thing in the world if i was less opinionated but luckily i AM that opinionated. also god. biology the day before history.... death. ive not been paying attention to either class for literally the past few months, im gonna have to kick it into high gear when i graduate bcos lbr im gonna get my shit together enough to pay attention until im not in school anymore.

thinking about boobs again. would like to hold some. an irl's school shirt keeps shifting so i can see her boobs thru the button gaps and im heeueuugueugh

eating a mini viennese ice cream or whatever its called n its good 👍🏻 hard to type w tho

boobs again. hhhahwhauhghah!

my ass hurt. done.

[tracingpatternswrites]

I just got an e-mail notification that a fic was posted which had been inspired by something I’ve written. At first it made me super happy (a part of me still is so astonished that something I’ve written has inspired anyone to write anything) but now I’m feeling a bit... I don’t know. This might get rambly so I’m putting it below a cut.

The fic in itself is...great, really. It’s good, absolutely heart breakingly sad, well written and dark. I love a good dark fic, love reading them when I’m in the mood, and this fic is quite honestly right up my alley in a lot of ways. 

It’s just... the fic is based on Secrets in the Black of night, a PWP I wrote for the Wolfstar Bingo for the prompt Slytherin!Sirius and (as far as I’m aware) tagged appropriately. Mine’s a dub-con fic and tagged as such, but it is essentially a PWP with no real dive into the characters or their history or where they come from or where they’re going. 

The work associated with it is not that. It’s a deep dive into the psychological aspect of trauma, tagged with both MCD and non-con.

This is not about writing about these things. As I said, I like reading dark fic myself and especially if it’s well written (which I think this is). It’s also tagged appropriately so that’s not an issue. There is just...something in the A/N that, and I don’t know if I’m overreacting, but it’s left me feeling a bit...I don’t know. Sad? 

So in short, in my fic they’re 7th year students at Hogwarts, Sirius is every part the pure-blood Black heir and a (suspected) Death Eater. He finds out about Remus being a werewolf and uses it to essentially blackmail Remus into sleeping with him. In my fic the dub-con is quite heavily hinted, but as I said, it’s a PWP so there’s no real character development or nothing to explore any of the characters’ reasons to why they’re doing what they’re doing. 

I don’t really have a problem with someone diving into the minds of these characters and evolving them. But the A/N states: 

Warning: this is a formally-educated-in-the-subject survivor's take on the problematic and generally misunderstood nuances and subtleties of emotional dependence, trauma bonding, and transgenerational cycles of abuse. It addresses briefly the progressive breaking down of the human psyche, its effects, and its consequences.

/../

Take note: It is stated clearly in the original that Remus was forced into the situation by a more powerful individual using leverage to induce submission. Thus, emotional manipulation and coercion and NOT BDSM. By psychological definition, such a situational dynamic is not and can not be consensual even among consent-capable adults. Reminder: these are seventeen-year-old school kids. They are more vulnerable. Trauma has a deeper and more devastating impact. An abuser is ALWAYS responsible for their actions, regardless of their age.

End notes:

You were warned. I expect there will be strong opinions - clap-back at my clap-back, if you will. Feel free to discuss, but hate will be removed. Personal attacks will be banned.

As a note: coercion is not consent. Forcing someone to consent is not consent. Arousal is not consent. Arousal does not equal desire. Participation is not consent. Victim confusion does not equal consent. Continuing despite the above is assault. Lack of penetration does not mean it's not rape.

And, like, I know all of this. I know all of this in real life, but my fic was not that. And I just have this overwhelming sense of wanting to explain myself. I feel, like, I don’t know. Guilty that I didn’t clarify this in my own A/N, maybe? 

I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading way too much into it, nowhere does it say that they didn’t like my fic, but it just feels a bit...passive aggressive? Or something. I don’t know.

Their fic is still amazing and I’d like to tell them that, but I’m not sure how to leave a comment without saying anything about how their A/N made me feel, and I don’t know how to do that without coming across as if I’m just over-reacting or trying to make up excuses. I just know that now I’m feeling a bit sad and uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Gah. I don’t know. Maybe this is just me spending way too much time thinking about this on a Saturday night 😕 

(If you are the author of this fic feel free to reach out because I would love to talk about it, and your fic was absolutely amazing)

[daincrediblegg]

I posted 8,104 times in 2022

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I tagged 8,010 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#oh my god - 581 posts

#important - 380 posts

#inspiration - 363 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 307 posts

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#bruno madrigal - 246 posts

#mood - 240 posts

#midnight mass - 187 posts

#spoilers - 180 posts

Longest Tag: 145 characters

#time to go batshit wild about the bacta tank scene again displaying obi wan’s hairy chest and arms and freckled skin again 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️💖

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Sometimes family weirdos just… get a bad rap.🐀⏳

503 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#4

Dream of the Endless Alphabet Headcanons

A/N: Well. I’m back on my bull. I’m deeply in love with this anthropomorphic personification and I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem. As usual with these horny works, 18+ only. Thank you, you’re welcome, and Enjoy.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after)

Where to begin with him… you wouldn’t expect him to behave as he does after the fact. For what is this carnal dance but fleeting feeling to an Endless? You would envision him laying in bed, brooding silence. And then? The slow and somber rise, donning his coat again, for he has duties to attend to, leaving the bed cold as the pallor of his skin.

… But this is not so for you. For when he breathes his last of bliss he sinks deep into the down of your bed, he stays with you. Not even so much as moving himself from your embrace, perhaps even seeking it out, still so gentle and perhaps even timid, despite that not moments ago you were far closer. Perhaps your fantasy would be warranted were you a mere fling… But as his touch, as delicate as the sheets around you will tell… he loves you. Truly. And with that, he will not want to part with so wantonly. And so you will rest a while. You in his arms and him in yours. Perhaps not to sleep but to find comfort in one another. And not just in touch but in words, poetry trickling off his pinkened lips in dulcet tones.  After all, there’s no rush in savoring any moment he can have with you. For as much as he’s loved and lost in all his eons of existence, every single one is never the same, and feeling what he feels with you is worth cherishing.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t quite know what to make of that… He’s… he’s not like any man. His form is his own and he chooses how he appears. It changes over the ages. He’s never felt discomfort in his own skin- or favored any part of him. He likes who he is all over. The way he is at any given moment. And you? He feels much the same way. He’s a creator himself. He has shaped so many dreams and nightmares, from the beautiful and enchanting to the horrific and terrifying. But in so many creations he has learned that everything holds its own beauty in a sense. Whether it be a grotesque shape that holds its metaphor for human psyche or a beauty’s physicality that inspires horror… there is so much meaning in these things that mere mortals could never comprehend. Not even in themselves. And he sees it in you. The way you carry your very soul through the world bewitches him in a way he’s not sure he can describe. But it’s all because you are you- and there will never be another the same. So whatever being created you he knows not, but he knows your form suits you and what you mean to him, and it draws him to you all the more for it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

You would have to believe it to see it, but the dream lord’s seed literally shines. It flows like honey, bitter or tart like berries (certainly far more pleasant than any mortal’s), and it flows like liquid pearl, subtle rainbows that shimmer beneath the milky white surface when you catch it in the right light (not that that should occur often, though).

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh my dear, there are many dirty secrets spanning millennia that it would take a whole human lifetime to relay them. He is the bearer of the collective living unconscious, after all. He knows more dirty secrets than even one man could possibly imagine. He will be reluctant to admit a good many of them, but one he might be willing to admit to you is that… well… there isn’t an inch of the dreaming that hasn’t seen its fair share of couplings (yes, not even Fiddler’s Green is a stranger to lovers taking to a shady glade). He never quite saw the appeal of doing such things in such wondrous places… until he became infatuated with you, that is.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I should say he does. He is endless, after all. If not by his own physical experiences from time immemorial, the dreams of others that he has observed over millenia certainly proves most interesting study material. Not to mention much unsolicited advice from his dearly detested sibling (of which he receives with an interesting abundance especially when word gets out that he has taken a new lover- some of which meant to trick him into foibles in his new romance- so be warned, but not worried. Dream knows very well that the best source of inspiration for new experiences is the one who will be a part of that- so in these matters, your council will be his greatest asset, and he will certainly never fail to please in that regard.)

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Above all, he wishes to be able to meet your eyes. There’s little that he desires in the whole of creation than to look upon you- especially when he’s inside you- and to kiss you, and to tell you that you are loved by him. Whilst simultaneously hoping beyond all possibility that with that understanding- with knowing who and what he is- all of him… that you feel the same. And to see it there. Written on your face and whispered in your sighs against his skin? It means more to him than you know.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Dream is… well… he doesn’t seem that much different than usual. Still as stoic and brooding as ever even in romance but… for you? Recently he’s found he’s taken on a bit of a lighter air. He’s been changed. Not just from his imprisonment but by his return to his role and function. For as many times as he’s loved and lost he now has you and this new love in this new age and there is a brightness to you that he finds a bit infectious. Now, don’t go expecting him to be the picture of a blushing beau for that will most likely never be his way, but… you will be no stranger to a coy smirk. A gentle- barely there smile as he awaits the next press of his lips to yours. Severity to a degree lessened on the features of his face that is a result of your words in his ears. And he will not refrain from such gestures when being intimate with you either.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

There is… truly not much of a carpet to speak of- and thats just… canon, from what I’ve seen. He could change it. Might be influenced to do so should he see such a thing in your fantasies. And if he did, it would be as wild as the hair on his head surely. Not unkempt, of course, but… different.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy really brings out the best in Morpheus. None would guess it of him, considering how cold and detached he seems in front of most company. But in yours? Alone? The walls lower a little, just enough to allow you and you alone a glimpse into the wealth and wonder of what he truly feels. You see, the truth is he’s a romantic at the very heart of him.. But it overwhelms even him, and so he does his best to control it lest his own love consume him. So you’ll have to forgive his gentle touches, the delicate brush of fingertips on your skin, how softly he holds you in the night, but know it is so much more than most will ever see. Especially in his eyes that often overflow with his love for you. And this is why he enjoys your company the most. Because it’s not often he lets himself go even a little, but with you? There’s absolutely no reason for him not to.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Oh he doesn’t do this often. If at all. He doesn’t really need to, to begin with. But also if he does feel something for someone to the degree that he feels he does need to touch himself for some relief, he will restrain himself as much as possible, because if he gives into his desires, his sibling will certainly know of it, and he can’t have that. Possibly a moot point since it will only allow his own desire for you fester to boiling regardless… but hey I mean what can you do when your family is like his?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise. Both giving and receiving, but allow me to emphasize that it’s not quite in a traditional sense that he enjoys it. It’s not as though he necessarily needs it himself- he is endless, after all. There is no authority to which he needs to supplicate himself for approval, nor will he demand such a thing from a lover such as you. But when he’s with you… it’s like a match sparks to life inside him. He cannot help but express in as many words how much he loves your touch, the feel of you, with him and around him. It’s like the words of a thousand poets who have ever felt the spark of love write the very words that trickle off his tongue but what the world would not know is that the truth is he had a hand in those very words, and that his love for you, and your love for him is what makes them real. But even more than doling out such elegant praise upon you is hearing it from you. Your own words. His may be calculated but yours are spontaneous and wild and do not exist until you care to utter them. And it is this poetry of your own, unique entirely to you that spurs him on more than anything in the world. Knowing that it is a result of how he makes you feel- and in turn how you make him feel? There is absolutely no greater bliss to him. And whatever you give you shall get in turn.

Also… he may enjoy watching you sleep, watching you dream. He will not do so without your consent, of course. Or do so from afar (which is not unlike how he has observed other sleepers… it’s only different in that he has much stronger feelings for you). And of course, he would never do so in a way that unsettles you. But he finds seeing you in such a state of peace relaxes him as well. Knowing also that your mind still conjures him even when he is not in the dreaming, in the waking world beside you… sometimes he can’t help but caress your cheek, Your form, perhaps even give you a dream that merits the sounds you make when he reaches lower…

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere. While a bed is well and good… the fantasy of taking a lover under the cover of night… the temptation of a kiss in the rain… Of the rolling of his hips against yours as the thunder in a distant gray sky, by a fire, or in a sunlit meadow beneath the shade of a wizened tree, strewn with flowers… There’s no place he cannot see appeal making love in. He has seen many such fantasies after all, and he figures what is the point of them all if he cannot emulate some of them with you?

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, nothing piques Lord Morpheus’s interest like a beautiful mind. By one who is intelligent, imaginative, wise, and not short on bravery. He didn’t see much of these things in people, before or after his imprisonment. But lately he’s been coming around to it more- even though people do not see these things in themselves. And in you? Whether it is particularly true or not to you in your own mind it is what he sees without a doubt.

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531 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

#3

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755 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#2

What I really love as another theme in Mike Flanagan works is that death is never a punishment (as it tends to be for a LOT of horror films) but instead an equalizer. That death by in large is a comfort and peaceful and not something to fear on the whole and many of the characters who DO die get that out of it. The villains often make death their own enemy in their denial of it and the meting of it out on others. But the heroes and the innocent and everyone else in between? When they go they get to go with love written all over them. And that is more potent to me than anything that anyone’s done with death in stories ever.

786 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Think it’d be really cute that when Dream has a crush and he’s like tryina flex that he’ll like recite you a shakespearian sonnet or a romantic or gothic poem and when he’s done he’s like “I helped! 🥰” like he’s low-key nerdy about it and super tries to hide it waiting to see if you appreciate it but fucking low-key BEAMS when you do and want to talk analysis of this stuff with him

854 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

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[dsmposting]

im posting the au b4 i watch any of the lore streems bc Jesus christ iwill NOT be normal. i bet

uuuhh so here is the,summary of it (also only going to b referring to c!dsmp members from here on)

it starts w tubbo acting kinda suspicious and purposefully avoiding talking abt or addressing his feelings (also literally anything about ranboo or michael. i hc that eret n phil usually step in n watch him 4 tubbo) as he walks around the smp kinda aimlessly until he sees tommy and they finally start talking again! and tommys been rlly worried abt tubbo bc they dont see each other as much n tubbo makes a rlly brief comment like "that wont be a problem for very long anyway" and toms assumes its just bc theyre reconnecting n plan on talking more often, but smthn about the way he says it feels wrong. he shrugs it off though

a couple days pass and tommy wakes up to find a note in his chest from tubbo!! and he says he has smthn rlly important and exciting to show him!! so toms takes a while to get ready and at some point stops bc he hears a huge fucking unnatural explosion sound waayyy off in the distance and he's like "oh thats bad. oh fuck wtf" and runs to the spot tubbo told him to meet up at to make sure tubbos okay and then . freezes in fear

bc the community house is blown up Again, but way worse than ever before. shit is on fire, the hole in the ground is way too steep and theres these weird snowy particles stuck in the air that make him feel funny when he touches them. the worst part is that tubbo is standing on a cobblestone tower in the middle of the crater and smiling at him like nothing happened.

tommy stares at him and asks why he looks so happy before tubs notices him and practically starts glowing w/ excitement. "oh my god hi!!! i didnt think youd show up already!! do u like what ive done w the place?? :D" and tommy just starts fucking shaking like "tubbo what did you do. why are you doing this" b4 tubbo does this big monologue abt how he finally finished developing a new weapon All on his Own and that now it could just be him and tommy again, but with no dream or sapnap or literally anyone else to get in the way this time!! and how he's so excited because now everything will make sense again and he doesn't have to think about things that ruin his psyche anymore and they never have to be apart again. at some point during the monologue tubbo starts staring at the sky, so tommy takes the opportunity to start tearing down the cobblestone tower while his best friend is distracted and forcibly interrupts his monologue to just fucking sit there and hug him. tubbo cries, probably for the first time in nearly a year, and tom tells him that he doesn't need to do all this crazy shit to keep them from splitting apart. hes still freaked the fuck out by everything that happened though and tubbo tells him that even if they repair the community house completely there will still be radiation in the area around it for, yknow, possible decades.

tommy realizes they could get caught for this and decides on the spot that the two of them are leaving. when tubbo asks what he means by that he starts spitballing a plan to say goodbye to phil and eret and everybody they still give a shit about and then run from the smp. tubbo takes a lot of convincing but eventually realizes it'd be safer for michael that way, and agrees to move away with him. tommy makes a point to say "if fuckin wilbur can do it, so can we." tubbo asks if they're just taking his orders out of habit again, and tommy reassures him that the decision they're making is their own because if he would never move to Fucking Utah; tubbo adds that he'd probably punch him in the dick if he ever saw him again anyway and tommy nearly cries laughing

they take Maybe a week doing what toms calls a "moving out speedrun" in which they start saying goodbye to the ppl they care about and this is p much where my idea ends. still have no idea how id tackle the ranboo situation at all but fuck it theres real lore now ig

[haxorus-imp]

[A grin that’s not so warm...] - Inverted Sun Oneshot

Summary: You left something really important in the daycare, the problem is...the lights are ON and something is inside waiting for you. Fandom: FNAF Security Breach (AU: Inverted Sun) Characters: Inverted!Sun and Reader (no relationship) Warnings: Bruises and bodily injury are noted, but not too in detail. Length: 6K A/N: “Here you go, @glitchysquidd ! I’m Cosmica and I finished that writing I wanted to do for you! I hope you enjoy it! I’ll cross post it to my AO3 as well.” --Story Below--

Fuck your life. Why did this have to happen on the night right before the weekend? You silently grumble as you look into the daycare through the sound-proof windows. Your eyes squinting as you see a familiar reflective glint of your car keys sitting on top of one of the kid-sized tables in the depths of the daycare. Sitting there. Mocking you in the light.

Yes. In the lights of the Superstar Daycare.

It may not seem unusual, the place was still about an hour from closing and your shift wasn’t over until 30 minutes after closing…so what was the big deal? Well…the daycare was normally dark and the Moon animatronic tended to be inside…and you were warned countless times to never go into the daycare when the lights were ON. It was an unusual request, but one you followed nonetheless. You still needed your job after all. But now, you were in a serious pickle. The daycare lights have switched to their ‘day cycle’ and you left a valuable item inside the daycare that was essential in getting you back home. Maybe you’ll finish your tasks next time before getting distracted by Moon next time…or just start checking your pockets more often. You could just run in there really quick and snatch your keys and leave just as fast as you came. But you have a very vivid memory of…something wandering the daycare in the light.

Something very…unsettling. You still remember seeing it once when you were passing by on your nightly route to collect gum from under the tables in the arcade. A large form was walking about the daycare. Something that looked…unnatural. Large and shadowy…with spikes on its head and a lumbering stride …with tiny glowing red eyes and a wide unnatural smile. Dressed in faded reds and bleached yellows. It was 12 feet in height, just like Moon was…but it wasn’t Moon. While you were squinting to get a better look, you saw it gaze in your general direction. You never dove behind a wall so fast to hide and your heart was thundering loudly in your chest from the encounter. You just felt like you were in danger while in that…thing’s line of sight.

Thankfully, you didn’t have a task that involved being near the daycare that night. You didn’t even look around the corner. You merely left the vicinity of the daycare as soon as you could. But now…you had to go inside the belly of the beast to retrieve your car keys that you stupidly forgot. You anxiously wiggle your leg and pat your face a couple of times. Trying to psych yourself up enough to open the large wooden doors that stood between you and the inside of the illuminated daycare. ‘In and out…In and out…just run in there and grab the keys as quietly as you could then leave. In and out…in and out…I gotta do this, I can’t walk home or stay here overnight…’  You mentally think, staring at the door handles once more. ‘You can do it, you can do it. It’s not around, but you can do it. The longer you wait the worse it’ll be. Just go in…’ You take a deep breath as your heart rate has already begun to elevate. You reach for the handle and, as painfully slowly as you could, you open the large wooden doors. They let out minuscule creaks as they’re opened and once the gap is big enough, you slip inside the daycare and close it with just as much care. You wince a bit as the large door clicks in place, but once nothing happens, you turn around to see the lit daycare on the inside for the first time. It was…surprisingly filthy. Lots of the play structures were covered in a thin layer of grime and even some of the fairy lights that were strewn about had some wear and tear on them. Possibly from kids tugging and pulling on them. There were various faded stains of unknown origin speckling the tiles and the floor mats. Dust and filth could be seen in the cracks and crevices on some of the play structures, giving this place a very…neglected feel. If a Health Investigator saw any of this, there would be no doubt that Bonnie’s Pizzaplex would be fined for healthcode violations. But the only thing you could think of while you walked through the play area towards your keys was ‘Damn Moon, you live like this?’. Were the mystery stains possibly juice? Crayons? Sauce from meals? Wait…was that one a little too…black to be…no! No! No! Focus! Get your keys and leave! You shake your head and refocus your attention on the sparkling keys that were donned with your favorite trinket, you picked up the keys with a silent victory shout. Jingle, Jingle, Jingle… You take a moment to pause and look around. Your ears are listening to something…ringing? Like a bell? You shake your keys lightly in response to the jingling, thinking that it was simply them, but when the sounds don't match up you begin to nervously look around the illuminated daycare. You tune into your surroundings as you tiptoe away from the children's furniture. Slowly making your way back to the large wooden doors as you listen to the atmosphere of the empty daycare. There’s an audio track playing in the background over the speakers that sounds like…a song? It was muffled and sounded like it was struggling to play in some places, but it definitely was a song. Besides that, there was only the soft padded sounds of your tiptoes meeting the playmats as you walked over them. Then, you hear it again. The jingling…except it sounded louder. You freeze in place to listen. Jingle, Jingle, Jingle… Jingle, Jingle, Jingle…

Then, there came a sudden feeling of dread as you felt your heartbeat skyrocket as the jingling sounded closer than ever. You hurried to step into the play structure that was lined with netting and pillars that were covered in thick cushioning. Hiding behind the coil of a slide as you hear it draw nearer. Then, the jingling was accompanied by something that made your blood grow cold. Large footsteps. Thud, Jingle, Thud, Jingle… Thud, Jingle, Thud, Jingle… Then, it emerges from somewhere on the opposite side of the play structure. A tall lumbering figure with red pins for eyes and a face that bore a grin filled with ill intentions steps out into the main area in between the play structures. Right where you were standing not moments ago. You cover your mouth and hold your breath as it looks around. The large way-too-sharp-looking blades spin around its head and creak as its eyes flick back and forth across the daycare. The bells on its body barely make any noise as it coils its head around on the bendable neck. It can be seen twitching as you silently and slowly slink further into your hiding place. Now you know how those kids in Jurassic Park felt. You stay there as it stands not too far away from you. Ducking down as its head swivels in the direction of your hiding place. You hold your hand tightly over your mouth as you can see the shadow of it on the floor not too far away. You try not to panic and you struggle to keep your breathing under control. Your ‘fight or flight’ instinct tells you to get up and run from the danger. However, you stay put. Hiding and praying it does not find you. But you aren’t that fortunate now, aren’t you? Guess you must’ve been an unfortunate expendable extra today. Because a sudden chill runs down your spine and there’s another wave of dread that emerges deep within you. A powerful sense of being watched makes you shudder and you dared to look over your shoulder. Eyes. The eyes of the menacing animatronic were staring down at you from around the curvature of the slide. With a wide grin filled with too many teeth and eyes like a shark that stare into your very soul. Your gazes locked briefly before you let out a loud scream as it lunges at you and grabs your forearm tightly in its grasp. Pulling you out of your hiding place, you dangle from its steely grip like a useless ragdoll. Your eyes were wide with fear as you felt the pain hit you seconds later as it carried you by your one arm back out into the open. The open where you were in the light. Where you were exposed. 

You were placed down, roughly mind you, yet it’s grip didn’t release from your forearm. You stare up at the 12 foot horror as you tremble slightly before it as it studies you with those eyes that change over to a bright yellow with a single white pupil in one. A moment of silence passes before the rays spin in rotation once and the robot lets go of your arm, but scoops you up into its tight and unyielding embrace instead. Making you gasp and stutter in both pain and shock. The robot spins you around with just its torso, giving you a bit of whiplash as the robot finally speaks for the first time ever. “I found you!!” The robot says with the tone of a crazy showman, jittery and unhinged. “You…you ‘found’ me??” You could only say as he finally ceases the spin cycle he had you in. “Oh yes, yes, yes! You’re here so very very late, why? Are we having a sleepover? Are you waiting for your parents?” The giant robot fires off, his eyes a bright yellow as his lone pupil flickers in his socket. You could only stand in stunned silence as the robot pretty much threw you through 3 different loops. First, it says that it ‘found you’ just like you two were playing a game or something. Secondly, you work the nightshift. Aren’t all the robots in the facility supposed to be aware of this so they don’t alert security or call the cops? Lastly, where were your parents?? You’re an adult! Your silence seems to slightly irritate the large terrifying animatronic, but it just hums in a slightly indifferent manner. “A rather shy one, aren’t you? That’s alright! Don’t worry, little one! I’ll keep you company until your parents arrive to pick you up!” The large robot clicks its non-existent tongue as his large hands keep firmly holding you up from under your arms. You blink dumbly at him. Was this thing for real? What is even happening right now?? This is…utterly terrifying, sure. But does it have a problem with its eyes? Maybe the facial recognition just wasn’t functioning? You never even came to the plex when you were a kid…just…what was WRONG with this thing? You see its yellow eyes flicker again. An early sign of impatience, you assume. “I guess you must be a child with parents that tell them not to talk to strangers. Which is very very good! Never talk to strangers, but I’m your best pal! I’m SUN!” The robot continues despite your silence. That made your ears perk up a bit. ‘Sun’? So this robot certainly wasn’t Moon…was there two different animatronics? Why haven’t you seen Sun in the daycare if that’s the case? Was he discontinued or something? “What’s your name, little one?” Sun inquiries, its head slowly tilting to the right. But it looked anything but innocent. You decided to not stay silent this time, afraid that you might make him angry. You introduce yourself and he seems to brighten up at you finally saying something to him in return. “Oh, Oh! What a lovely name! Now we’re no longer strangers!” He booms. You merely hold back the strong urge to roll your eyes. ‘Typical move that kidnappers do to take children away, dude.’ You think. Then, you find yourself yelping as he pulls you in close. Similar to how a child would be carried by their parents, you find yourself looking over his shoulder towards your freedom. Your anxiety grows as the large wooden doors grow farther and farther away the more ‘Sun’ walks. “We can play games all night until your parents come to pick you up~! Tag, Hide and Seek, Charades, Drawings, Cops and Robbers, Puppet Shows, Finger Paint, and we can drink Fizzy Faz until our heads explode!!” Sun rambles as you grow more nervous. You REALLY need to get out of here. This was simply getting ridiculously uncomfortable. You tap on his shoulder to get his attention. “Can you please put me down?” You say, wiggling a bit. “Oh? Does my best friend don’t like to be held? Sorry, sorry! Here–” To which he practically nearly THROWS you to the ground, in which you stumble slightly on your feet. “There you go! All better now! We can start playing some games now!” You grunt and huff, tired of being handled roughly by this jovial brute. Enough with this nonsense. “Sun…look. I’m not a kid!” You say, to which the large robot squints at you with his eyes. The yellow in them significantly grows paler as you steel your nerves and continue. “I’m an adult! An employee even! I still have other tasks to do before my shift is over. I just came in here to get the keys for my car!” You explain. You even pull out the keys to show them to the large robot. Holding them out with your fingers as the trinket dangled from the keyring. You really hoped that the bot would just…leave you to get back to work. Sun looks at the keys then back at you, before suddenly yanking them away from you. You stare in pure shock as the large sun-themed robot waggles a long finger at you in a ‘no-no’ manner. Like one a mother would give a mere child. “Back Talking is rude, sunshine. As a punishment, I’m taking your toy. You can have it back when you behave.” Sun scolds. “I–What?! Hey!” You snap, jumping up to try and get your car keys back. Obviously, the 12 ft animatronic had no issues keeping them out of reach. “Give them back! I need those!” “Ah, ah, ah! No can do!” Sun’s faceplate turns at an angle as his yellow eyes flicker again. You grow frustrated as your attempts to get your keys back go nowhere. “It’s not a toy, Sun! Those are my car keys! Give them back!!” You say as you continue to jump. “No. No. Keep it up and I’ll have no choice but to put you in…” As you make for another attempt to grab your keys, you suddenly find yourself being stared down upon with a blackened pair of eyes that make you freeze. “In time out.” Despite the childish nature of the threat, the glare that the robot was giving you was far from anything so innocent. Deep in its black eyes…you could see malicious intent. How could a robot with a stiff faceplace look so…angrily tense?? You freeze and after a moment to think it over, you slowly nod in submissiveness, holding back your remarks to the best of your abilities as Sun squints at you and wordlessly attaches your car keys to one of the ribbons around his hands. Then, he pats your head like a dog. As much as you wanted to bite him, you knew it would be a death sentence. So you sit there and take it. “Good. Good. Now, let's begin to play some games! Hurry, Hurry!” Sun urges as he forcefully turns you around and begins to push you further into the daycare for a round of games. You could only look at your keys longingly before you were subjected to his will. Just how were you going to get out of the daycare with this nightmare-fuel animationic constantly bugging you? Let alone do it in the next hour? You just hoped you could figure something out until then. You just needed to ‘behave’ long enough to get your keys back from Sun and book it out of the daycare. When the first opportunity to grab your keys shows up, you would take it.

Well…that was the plan originally. Now you were practically bruised, scraped, sore, and tired all at once. These “games” that Sun was subjecting you to was nothing short of unusual torture. The first thing you both played was ‘tag’. In which, the image of a large hulking 12 ft animatronic with a demented face chasing after you would now forever haunt you in your nightmares and while you sleep. He also wasn’t gentle in grabbing you. Your shoulder still felt like it was pulled out of its socket because of him grabbing you so harshly. The next game was ‘catch’. Sounded simple, right? Not quite. Sun had decided to utilize the painted softball that the children in the daycare would play with while they were playing freeze tag. It should’ve been easy. What you didn’t expect was for Sun to throw the softball at what looked like MACH SPEED and nail you in the chest. The force of the impact threw you back into the ballpit and nearly knocked you out. Your chest is sporting a large bruise now. At least Sun was happy that you caught the ball. You managed to convince him to give you a break with a drawing activity, but it didn’t last long until he had you playing ANOTHER game. Now you found yourself knocked back on your ass again after playing ‘cops and robbers’. You, sadly, were the robber. Sun didn’t hold anything back when he tackled you. Causing you to skid roughly on the floor and give you a major case of floor rash on your side and hip. The bruising was also pretty bad. That was when you decided that you needed to just get OUT of here. This robot was going to kill you! Sun practically gave meaning to ‘someone will die of fun’ and like hell it was gonna be you. So now here you are. Currently sitting in your ‘jail cell’, which was just a little box that Sun had covered over the top of your head, and you begin to think of a plan to get your keys from Sun and escape. You just…you can’t get AWAY from this robot! He’s always around, waiting for you to get up and play another stupid game! Sometimes he would even force you to your feet, even while dazed. Even now, out of the corner of your eye, he’s sitting not a foot away from you. Staring into your soul with those yellow eyes, just waiting for you to say ‘I wanna be a good citizen’ to get out of jail. At least in this moment in time, you manage to have a moment of respite from his constant badgering and beatdowns. Your eyes flick to your keys. To which, your car keys are still firmly attached to his ribbon. Reaching out and grabbing them would just be an invitation for him to give you an ass-whooping, if he doesn’t just flat out murder you first, so you refrain from doing that. You were running out of time and needed to get out of here. He has held you prisoner for almost 40 minutes now. Chasing, grabbing, tackling, and exhausting you at every step he could. Even now, you could see his finger tapping with growing intensity and impatience. You glance around the daycare, weighing your options. You could go for the doors…but Sun was FAST and he would no doubt catch you if he wasn’t compromised first. There’s also a good chance he may have locked them, seeing as you saw him hanging around the doors when he put you in ‘jail’. You could go for the slide…but there’s a chance you’ll slip and fall right back into the daycare and right into the embrace of this killer animatronic. Moon was nowhere to be seen, so you’ll doubt he’ll even be of help. Then…something piques your interest. The play structures. The structures were just close enough to where the glass of the windows ended and the loose netting of the guard-nets began. There was a sizable gap over the glass frame and under the netting that you could fit through…but there was a decent fall on the other side. By now, you’ll take a broken limb over being run down to death by Sun. Now how to get him over to them…? . . . Then, you get an idea. You just hope it works. “I want to be a good civilian.” You finally say to the impatient Sun. “Ho Ho! You took a while!” Sun says with a hint of impatience in his voice as he rips the box off your head and forcefully makes you stand again. “Come, Come! We must play another game!” “Okay, then I want to play ‘hide and seek’ again.” You agree, to which Sun seems to grow excited. Since he was the only one ‘picking’ the games for a while there, aka all night. “Good choice! Good choice!” Sun praises and you hurry to cut him off. “And you’re it.” You continue. Sun seems taken aback, but quickly agrees. Nodding his head. “Yes! I’m it! I’m it!” He giddily agrees. It was a shame that he has some level of charm that’s quickly muted by his rough ways of ‘playing’ and his terrifying appearance. But that wasn’t gonna stop you from escaping. “Okay! I’m gonna go hide while you count to 20! You try to find me and no peeking!” You say in a falsely playful manner to which Sun nods eagerly in response. “1…2…” Sun begins to count as he covers his eyes. You run away from him as you stride over to the play structure. Taking a quick glance at the large double doors just to weigh your options and finding them BENT SHUT. Even from your place inside the daycare, you could tell the doors were jammed. There was NO WAY you would survive if you made this particular robot angry. If he was capable of bending doors of that size, he could snap your spine like a twig. You really needed to get out of here! You just hoped that this plan would work. “5…6…” You hear him continuing to count as you search the structure. Seeing as the top of the structure was nearly at the perfect height for you to grapple the ledge over the glass, you now quickly memorize the way up to the top of the structure. “10…11…” You search the lower part of the structure. Trying to find something REALLY specific…you hoped it had it. “14…15…” Then, you finally find it! A particular segment in the play structure had a gap between two segments that were lined with the black mesh netting that surrounded the inside of the play area. You could worm your way behind it and maybe…just maybe…Sun would get stuck long enough for you to get your keys and bail over the glass wall. While he was very big, strong, and scary…Sun seemed immature in his mannerisms and may not be too bright. If his facial recognition and delusional state would allow it, he would fail to assess the safety hazard before it was too late. “18…19…” You get into position and wait for Sun to come find you.Taking in a deep breath as Sun finishes. “20!! Ready or not, here I come!!” Sun loudly announces as you stand in plain sight in between the gap that would be the perfect clamp to keep Sun at bay. You wait, hearing heavy footsteps wander around just out of sight. The deep rhythmic thuds fill you with dread as you take in the situation. If you fail…you would not get away alive. If you fell wrong while bailing…you would probably die. If he was smarter than you thought…you would be subjected to more playful torture. This was a true night of horrors and you would probably be traumatized after this night. But if you do make it out alive…you would CERTAINLY keep a pair of spare keys on you after this. So, you take a long deep breath as you hear the sound of the footsteps growing louder and the sound of jingling bells and rattling keys fills your ears. You decided to cover your eyes with your hands, just as a kid would. Then…you hear him round the corner. You steel your nerves as he charges. Thud, thud, THUD, THUD, THUDTHUDTHUD–CLUNKSSHHH!! You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound and freeze for a second before removing your hands from your eyes. Then, you let out a loud yelp as you see Sun reaching through that gap like you predicted. Fingertips mere inches from your face, clenching desperately to grab you. The gap managed to catch his arm between his elbow and forearm, limiting his movement. You could even see the look on Sun’s face as he quickly grows puzzled and tries to grab you again. Then, you finally see what you managed to accomplish. Sun had even used the hand that had your clinking keys wrapped around the ribbon. Then, you suddenly spring into action amongst his confusion. You grab the extra black netting from your side of the structure and throw it over his hand. Quickly wrapping it up and tangling it around his fingers and wrist. Then, you FINALLY make a grab for your keys. Happily snatching them from the crazy robot and stuffing them back into your coat pocket. After pocketing the keys, and a chunk of his ribbon in the process, you pat your pocket in approval. Now you just need to maximize your efforts to get to the top of the structure and BAIL out of this hellhole! You slip out from behind the structure and you see Sun try to lunge for you, but he is held in place by his pinned and tangled arm. Then, you see it as you run past him. Black eyes with red pupils. Sun was MAD. “Sorry, Sun! I have to go home now!!” You hurriedly shout as you run away from the bottom of the structure and begin to head up the ramps to the higher levels. Then, you hear it. Sun’s TRUE rage. “Rulebreaker! Rulebreaker! RULEBREAKER!! YOU ARE GOING TO TIME OUT!!!” You hear him roar furiously as you feel the entire structure shake. The only thing you could think of was ‘holy shit he was strong’ and ‘I gotta get the hell outta dodge like right NOW’. Adrenaline fuels your endeavor as you continue to ascend the structure. Despite the shaking, you continue your climb and you begin to scale the elastic straps to get to the very top of the structure when you hear a horrible noise come from below and the whole structure BUCKLE. Your eyes widen as you hear the familiar sound of large footsteps begin to come up the structure. It barely held him for 2 minutes and now you were booking it up the structure even faster now that you know that a 12 ft homicidal robot was in pursuit. Finally, you make it to the peak of the play area. Once at the top, you take a few seconds to gauge the jump to the glass barrier and the netting that surrounds the enclosure of the daycare. The sounds of Sun tearing through the structure made you not even consider the fall to the ground below. You panic a bit before you look over the edge to see about 200 pounds of rage-fueled metal begin to climb out of the tube at the top. With speed faster than you could predict, the animatrionic began to climb the straps to get to you. “CLIMBING TO THE TOP OF THE PLAY AREA IS AGAINST THE RULES! ESCAPING THE DAYCARE IS PROHIBITED! TIME OUT! TIME OUT!!” Sun screams in fury. It was either you risk the jump or you get torn asunder by the angered Sun. One was much more preferable than the other. So… You decided just to say fuck it. You jump. There was a moment of weightlessness as you soar through the air, then you roughly impact the safety net that hangs from the ceiling and you have your lower torso slam into the glass of the barrier. You gasp as you feel winded, but you manage to grapple onto the safety net and the top of the barrier. Still fueled by adrenaline, you worm your way over the barrier and half-hazardly roll your body over the frame of the glass panes. There was a brief freefall before the sound of a table being absolutely obliterated filled the room. You lay there in the splintered remains of the table. Letting out a wheezy breath of air as the pain managed to break through the adrenaline. After laying there for a few minutes, you finally slowly sit up. You groan and whimper in pain..but you were OUT of the daycare AND you were alive! The best scenario. You take a few moments to stand up, whining as the pain blossoms all over your abdomen as you right yourself. The last thing you expected to do at work was WWE a dining table into wood chips, but you’ll see another day at least. You take a moment to breathe and you feel your pocket with your keys safely tucked away in it. You sigh in relief…then turn your head to the side. Seeing a large menacing figure looking at you from inside the glass. Large black eyes with burning red pinpricks for pupils stare back at you in furious hate. His posture was menacing, his grin tight, and his rays were fully extended and even almost seemed to be fluttering in representation of his barely contained anger. Almost like a frill. He briefly reminded you of the Dilophosaurus from Jurassic Park. To which you should probably stop comparing this scary ass robot to dinosaurs from a cinematic movie. You stare at him as you begin to limp your way to the exit, his lumbering form following you along the glass barrier. His gaze not moving away for a millisecond. As you were walking, you took a look at his arm, finding the ripped ribbon and the limb that was now sporting a new scraped paint job. In a way, you felt kinda bad. You pause for a second to catch your breath. Still seeing him stand next to you, you sigh loudly and look at the large menace behind the glass that kept following you. “Look. I’m sorry I had to bail on you, but you were hurting me and keeping me from doing my job. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you really did a number on me. I can’t just stay with you all night. I’m an adult and an employee. I have a job to do…well…I hope I still have a job. No doubt they’re gonna ask me about the table tomorrow…” You explain. Looking at the large robot on the other side as he silently peers at you with those pin pricks for eyelights. Quickly growing uncomfortable with his staring and silence, you continue. “I…I’m gonna go home now. See you…whenever, I guess.” You finish, continuing to limp around the outside of the daycare. The robot still followed you in silence. You managed to get around to where the jammed wooden doors were, making sure to give them a wide berth as there was no way you were risking getting grabbed, and headed towards the exit. You begin to slowly walk up the stairs to get to the atrium when you hear a distinct sound. Tap, Tap, Tap. You turn to look at the daycare one last time. Seeing the large crazed robot standing at the glass. Steadily tapping it with his finger. You watched as his now blackened eyes stared into your own. Like a cat’s eyes that were overly dilated. He tilts his stiff faceplate in his mockery of innocence as you stare at him. Then, he makes a motion with his hands. It almost looked like he was grabbing at the glass…but after a few more seconds, you realized that he was pretending that he was grabbing you. From his perspective, you must’ve been smaller and he was using his hand to grab you from his perspective. Like how fathers mess with their children with how they ‘eat cars’ on the highway. You then turn towards him and stick a hand out. Giving him a finger waggle, just like he did to you earlier. You also shake your head in disagreement. He pauses and squints at you. Then, he changes his position and begins to…wave at you. Surprised, you take a moment to consider it…before you turned away abruptly and began to walk up the stairs. Ignoring the feeling of being watched as you left the hellhole that nearly cost you your life. With a quick message to management from your phone that you took a nasty fall down a large staircase, with pictures of your bruises to prove that you were indeed injured, you were allowed paid medical leave to recover. Most likely to avoid a lawsuit, since you ‘fell down the stairs and suffered moderate to severe injuries’. In essence, you were relieved. You clock out for the night, ignoring all the concerned animatronics and staff bots as you exit the building with not a minute to spare. On the way to your car, the sound of the shudders being activated made you look over your shoulder while you walked. Finally, the horrible beast was safely sealed away and you weren’t stuck in there with it. Once you were settled in your car, you drove away and didn’t even bother to look back in the mirror. Intent on enjoying your days off to recover from the absolute brutal treatment that Sun gave you. The moment you got home, you practically raced to the bathroom cabinet for pain killers and got a bag of ice for your back. After that, you were getting ready for bed. However, you gasp loudly after you take off your uniform. Revealing the intensity of the bruises that surrounded your body. The gripping, the tackling, the dragging around, and the ultimate table slam…your body looked black and blue all over. You could only wince as you KNEW you were going to feel ALL of this in the morning. But once you are all prepped and ready for bed, you limp over to the edge of your mattress and decide to fish out the things from your coat pockets. As you wouldn’t be wearing the uniform for a while, you might as well wash it, right? So you pick out your phone, your wallet, your ID, and finally your keys. You set most of them on your bedside table and merely toss the garment into the floor. Not feeling like walking it to the hamper right at that moment. You got snug in your bed and began to get comfortable. However, it was only then did you realize something. Something that you knew was off. You quickly sit up in your bed and look back at your nightstand once more. Hey…where was your little trinket? You blink as you notice the empty keyring…and merely sighed. It must’ve gotten ripped off when you snatched your keys from Sun’s ribbon. It wasn’t a big deal. If all you lost tonight was just a little novelty item, you were willing to take that loss. You get cozy again and finally get comfortable enough to fall asleep in record time. That didn’t mean your dreams were peaceful, however. Cause even in your dreams, that terrifying animatronic was there looming over your helpless form. With its evil gaze and its unnatural and imposing stature. Hovering over your terrified form. Giving you a grin that was not so warm.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[curiouskurona]

i think part ( not all ) of tha reason fakir grew to resent mytho so much was probably because of his role as a caretaker for mytho .

we see in episode 3 that mytho can't tell when he's hungry / full . does fakir have to make sure that he eats ? has mytho collapsed after hours of dancing without eating anything because he forgot he was supposed to , and couldn't feel that he was hungry ?

we see that mytho often hangs around their dorm in just(?) a button up shirt . fakir choosing what mytho wears is a popular headcanon / its widely considered fanon ( i don't think its ever been confirmed as canon but please correct me if im wrong ) . does fakir also have to help him get dressed and undressed ?

does fakir have to help mytho shower ( this isnt a shippy post , dont maek this weird ) , because if he doesn't , mytho will space out n stay under tha water for hours and catch a cold ? does he have to keep checking up on mytho for every little thing , time his meals and showers and bathroom breaks , make sure hes dressed before they leave their dorm , make sure he isnt overworking himself by dancing too often / for too long ?

idk . i have a lot of thoughts / feelings / opinions about fakir . admittedly , not all of them are very good . but i do feel for him in some aspects , and i do recognize that he was just a kid

karon was there for them growing up , of course , but fakir is shown to spend time wandering around with mytho alone . telling mytho off for getting himself into trouble , trying to protect him from himself . it must have been an even bigger responsibility when they moved out of their house and into tha school dorms . it must have been even moar stressful for him . i wonder how often he lamented over his situation , how often he wished he could have a normal school life instead of worrying about mytho and tha looming presence of the story

i wonder when exactly it was that fakir started seeing mytho as moar of a burden than anything else . when he went from " im going to protect mytho !! he needs me !! " to " im going to isolate , berate , and control mytho . its not liek he can feel anything anyways , he isnt a person , just a responsibility i got saddled with in this stupid story . i always take care of mytho , i know whats best for him . and if i take some of my anger out on him then who cares , its fine "

imagine being nine and having to make sure this guy thats been 14 for liek 3 years eats on time because if you ( or your dad ) dont remind him he will starve to death because he cant feel hunger or tha pain that comes with it . what does that do to a nine year olds psyche . would you think that was weird ? would you think it was kind of annoying , liek " what tha hell ur older than me how do you not know how to do this stuff , how are you so airheaded and blank faced and helpless . god , just come over here " ?

anyways . this post has kind of lost tha plot ( lol ) , i started going on some tangents but . yeah . mytho probably was pretty dependent on fakir and karon . im not saying hes as helpless as a baby , mytho knows how to eat and read and bathe and talk . but not being able to feel / know what your body is doing + constantly disassociating / spacing out probably makes it pretty hard for mytho to take care of himself . and im willing to bet it caused at least some of tha strain on his and fakirs relationship

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

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

or

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

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

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

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

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

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

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

“It’s Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

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

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

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

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

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

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

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

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

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

--

Two Weeks Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” He checks in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eight.”

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

“Of course,” he chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shake it off?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[can-youimagine]

Work In Progress Chapter Eight

Summary: After leaving the BAU, you promised you would never go back. But then, you meet your replacement. Your genius, caring, loving replacement, and you can't stop yourself from being pulled back into that world.

Chapter TW: Discussion of Spencer's mom, swearing See Series Masterlist for full series TW.

Word Count: 1391

A/N: Bit of a series announcement. I have so much more of this story written, and it is killing me that I can’t share everything with you yet, so I’ve updated my schedule to post every Sunday and Wednesday!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You swing open the door to his apartment with more bags than necessary. “What do you want to make first?”

He thinks for a moment. “Can we make meatloaf? My mom used to make it all the time, and I’ve been missing her.”

“Of course. Do you want to take the lead?”

He doesn’t answer verbally. He gets to work gathering the ingredients and heating the oven. Luckily, you manage to find a loaf pan in a cupboard. It seems like his mom got him a set of cookware before he moved in.

You can tell Spencer is a bit uneasy about touching the raw beef, so you do. As you’re kneading, you try to make a simple conversation. “Where’s your mom now?”

“Bennington Sanitarium,” he answers. “I write to her every day, though. I told her about you.”

You smile, turning your focus to the meat. “That’s sweet. Where’s Bennington?”

“Vegas.”

“You a gambler?”

He smirks. “I may have been banned from a few casinos.”

“Spencer!” you exclaim, shaking your head. “What’re you doing with the FBI? You could be making bank.”

“I like it here.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where’re you from?”

“Nashville,” you answer, “went to Vandy, worked my ass off, and, while not as impressive as you, managed to get two degrees. Elementary ed and criminal psych. Can you hand me the pan?”

“Still a little bitter with Vanderbilt,” he confesses.

“Why’s that?”

He sets the timer, while you move to the sink. “Didn’t reach out to me.”

“Oh, and you had what Yale looking to recruit you?” you joke.

“Yes, actually. It was my backup.”

Dishes clatter in the sink. “I’m sorry, Yale was your backup? What the hell?”

He laughs at you, taking the clean dishes from you. “I wanted CalTech. I got in.”

“Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” You dry your hands before turning back to him. “I’m sure you’ll have a case soon, but this should take you through the week.”

“Thank you so much. Not sure what I would do without you.”

You shrug. “Probably whatever you were doing last week.”

“(Y/N).”

“Sorry. Seriously though, I’m glad to help you, or just spend time with you.”

“Maybe we could do something normal and coupley then.” He places the loaf pan back in its cupboard. “I mean if you want to be a couple. I don’t want to make the executive decision.”

“I would love to be a couple.”

“Should we watch a movie or something?”

“As long as one of us can hear the timer, I’d love to.”

Without looking at the timer, he manages to give you the exact time left.

“Okay, so I guess you’ve got the timer,” you say, sitting on the couch. “What’re we watching?”

He sits at the other end of the couch. “Doctor Who?”

“Sure, but I have to warn you, I’ve never actually seen an episode.”

He looks at you in mock outrage. “We’ll have to fix that.”

You scoot closer to him. “I suppose we will.”

“I know I’m not the best at social cues, so I’m just going to ask. Do you want to sit with me?”

You finally move so that you are next to him. “Yeah. I do.”

He smiles, leaning into you. “Good.”

At some point, you start to feel yourself fall asleep. He’s so comfortable, and he smells good, and he’s running his fingers through your hair. Just when you feel yourself on the edge of sleep, the alarm goes off. You startle awake, causing Spencer to chuckle.

“Good nap?”

“Never got to sleep.”

He frowns, getting up. “Let me get the meatloaf out. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t take too long.” You lean against the arm of the couch.

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” He stays true to his word, coming back almost as quickly as he left. “Missed you,” you mumble, curling back into his chest.

“You could see me the whole time.”

“I know, but you’re comfy.”

You must have embarrassed him. He doesn’t respond, just tangles his hand back in your hair. You never want to fall asleep any other way.

To be fair, Spencer also never wants you to fall asleep any other way. The moment you fell asleep was one of the most blissful moments in his life. Cooking with you, showing you his favorite show, falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was all too perfect.

Still, there is something nagging at him. “Are you awake?”

He breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t answer.

“I wanted to tell you something. I really don’t like keeping things from you. I tried and lasted all of twelve hours.” He twists your hair between his fingers. “Thank you for not asking about my mom. It’s hard for me to talk about, and I already shared all of this with the team. It’s a lot to talk about twice, y’know.” You shift in your sleep, curling further into his chest. It almost feels like an answer. “She’s a schizophrenic. I had her committed there when I was eighteen. It was by far the worst day of my life. But, it’s what was right for her, and I know she knows that now, but then, it hurt. A lot.

“At least when I was there, I could see her often, but now… Now it’s hard, so I write the letters. I know it’s not quite the same, but it keeps us in touch. I write to her every day. I was scared to tell her about you. I just wanted to make sure that you felt the same way I do. Besides, it’s early. She gets a little too invested in things like this. I remember when I was younger, I had a crush on this girl in my class. She was significantly older than me, so there was no way this was ever going to happen, but still, she did everything in her power to make sure it could.” He laughs. She never outright told Spencer that, but every day before school she would make sure he looked nice and would always tell him how wonderful he was and how much people love him.

“Anyways, once I started writing about you, I couldn’t stop. She hasn’t got the letter yet, but when she does, I know she’ll love you. And, she won’t stop telling me to bring you out one day. I’d love to do that, actually. Whenever you’re up for it, I’d love for you to meet, and I could show you around the city, maybe even get you kicked out of a few casinos.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head before turning his attention back to the show.

When you wake up, Spencer is quoting the lines under his breath. It doesn’t seem like he’s moved at all. He must be watching you closely because as soon as your breathing shifts, he says, “Now, did you have a nice nap?”

You yawn. “Yes. Thank you.”

He wants to tell you everything again, make sure you heard it, but his phone cuts him off. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering the phone. “I’ll be right there.” He turns his attention back to you. “We’ve got a case.”

Sadly, you push yourself off the couch, both of you feeling entirely too cold now. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Be safe.”

“You, too.”

You laugh. “Fifth graders can be wiley.”

“I’m sure.”

You make no move to leave. “Spencer, can I-sorry.”

“Can you what?”

He looks at you with such intensity that it’s impossible to lie. “Can I kiss you?”

“Always,” he answers, closing the gap between you.

The kiss is short and sweet and everything you ever could have hoped for. His lips are soft and make you feel like you’re on a cloud. It takes everything in your being not to whine when he pulls away. His cheeks are tinted pink, and his eyes are still shut when he pulls away.

“I should go,” he whispers.

You nod. “Yeah. Be sure to freeze the meatloaf before you leave.”

Coming back to reality, he smiles. “I will. See you soon.”

You drag yourself to the door. If you don’t leave now, you’re not sure you ever will. “See you soon.”