#not tagging past that because. idk. i feel like nobody would really care for this 😭

[emo-nordegraf]

hii so um i got this idea likeee a bit ago but never posted it because i didn't know if anyone else would even care for this kind of niche ass crossover that im pretty sure id be the target audience for + i didn't know how to feel about this anyways

i don't exactly like the raz design......

heres 2 others but i never actually finished the panel redrawing these 2 were on

they all have different outfits because. like. idk they're older i guess 😭 id say everyones in their twenties based on the original scott pilgrim characters ages

anyways im probably never posting about this ever again i just wanted to post the redraws because my tiktok mutuals really liked it for whatever reason

[hussyknee]

Put off reading Kushiel's Legacy thinking it would be vaguely racist harem-fantasy BDSM smut in high fantasy dressing. Instead I got feminist George R. R. Martin if he was less racist and skeezy.

You need to take notes to follow all the names and I can barely keep up with who's doing what and the author has never heard of cutting to the goddamn chase, but good God you get so invested in the characters within a hundred pages that it sends you reeling when they die. I'm only at 200 out of 500 pages but I'm so fucking gutted that I stopped reading to skim the rest of all three books to see whether any of my other favourites were going to die and who I should be braced for dying because good fucking god. I'm even heartbroken about characters that died before the book!

It really sneaks up on you because this book is so dense and crammed with so much detail that you don't realize you've begun to really love the characters. The fuckton of foreshadowing probably didn't register because they're front and center like main characters would be, so you're not prepared for them to die in the middle. And Phedre lives such a happy, sheltered life that it's a genuine shock when it all gets blown up.

I want them back. I like Joscelin, but he isn't them. Jacqueline Carey how could you. 😭😭😭😭😭

Oh btw, this series is also gay as shit. Heterosexuality doesn't seem to exist and it's so unremarkable it didn't even occur to me that this is a full-on LGBT series. It's not like in fanfic, when even in stories where queerness is universal and unremarked in-universe there might as well be a giant fuck you rainbow flag over it all. In Kushiel's Universe it's just so matter-of-fact that you realize this could actually have been what society was like in the past when the Church wasn't all up in everybody's business. Sure, in this universe there's a hippie Jesus that followed regular Jesus who was all flower power and free love and founded alternate universe France, so that nobody has any sexual hang ups, homo or otherwise (much like regular medieval France Ig), but even if there were, everybody's either too rich to give a shit or too poor to care (also like regular medieval France). It feels historically accurate somehow. Idk. But this book came out in 2001. Eat that, GRRM, with your two male gays and off-screen lesbians.

Edit: Just checked the AO3 tag and. Sigh. You know a book isn't trashy when it only has 350 works on AO3. Fanfic runs on trash and guilty pleasure, not sensitive and quality story-telling.

[liraspins]

what the actual fuck. trying to portray an oc is wild. nobody cares. I've just made a canon anime rp blog a few weeks ago. and guess what...people are COMMUNICATING, people CARE. people share posts, plot, like starter calls, reply to open starters within minutes. even , ooc posts get like 4 likes on average. i feel like i can just rp for hours whenever i log in over there. and here? i just posted two big starters yesterday, a self promo i've spent HOURS on, i go to sleep, wake up and not even a single notification. Like...the ironic thing is that i tag my starters or calls with everything, indie rp etc. I KNOW that people see it. I KNOW that people scroll past it... and the other account...wait you're not gonna believe this: I DONT EVEN HAVE TO TAG ANYTHING ON A STARTER AND IT WILL GET REPLIES....BC PEOPLE CARE.

i honestly hate this snobbish rp enviroment here. Ocs don't get any love, nobody gives a shit. everybody has to have the slickest formatting, craziest themes and such. IT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE PEOPLE ARE DOING IT FOR FUN ANYMORE!!! idk i'm just really mad. for this blog, my oc i do A LOT, with next to no rewards. on my canon anime account i don't even have to do anything and people will just write starters, text me, send ask memes etc. my starters on here have 0 notes, just like starter and plotting calls.

that's actually the reason i left tumblr rping behind in 2016, because there were just these writers who were just better than everyone else bc they have fancy formatting and icons they've spent way too long on for them to be extremely small, wtf.

sometimes it feels like high school i swear

i cant even plot with people bc they will just...leave.

there is also no communtication on here.

i hate y'all sometimes...

and i'm so tired of running after everybody. I reply to starters, like starter calls, message people if they want to plot, and I'm nice about it. and i get ignored. but communicated to, no ignore. there is no "hey i just looked at your oc and i don't this this is a vibe" which i would love to get one of these day, no, it's just nothing. and then you sit there. feeling like a fucking clown.

y'know why i can say that? because nobody will ever read this post lol, because it's on liraspins and liraspins isn't important. fuck you. also this is a plotting call lmao

going back to the Naruto rp community fuck you at least i can have INTERACTIONS there...

[ravenkinnie]

thoughts on jinx largely using pink for her graffitis because the color reminds her of vi??

i like to think its true bcs it makes all those years of stewing resentment/longing/grieving before she sees vi again hits a little more harder. vi seeps into even the most trivial parts be it conscious or subconscious. even in her 'JINX' grafitti tag the first letter 'JI' is drawn in a shape similar with 'VI' the letter J is just tilted kind of, which is a blatant visual representation of how jinx's heart and soul yearns for her sister. its these little things that truly make me realize how obsessed jinx is with vi & idk to me the fandom doesnt talk enough ab it.

I mean I'll be real lads, jinx was using pink way before arcane and before her and vi were even sisters and I think they chose it because pink and blue go well together and now shes stuck with it forever ksjsjsj. I'm also glad s2 is coming out soon because the more people try to find VI in every poster the more I'm starting to feel like that encanto tweet that's like were running out of things to say about this movie jaisusj

don't get me wrong, I'm also prone to delusions, like riot renewed their K/DA trademark and I've been reading signs in the water and the sky for an upcoming EP/album so its not like I also don't live in delululand but my stance is we don't need to read the posters for signs of jinx's feelings towards vi when jinx already told us. like vi is one of the two protagonists we already know she's central to the story and we know that the vi jinx relationship is the centre of the show and the heart of it. and if you don't realise that then I think you will really love arcane because clearly you've never seen it before jajsjksks

but like, they are the centers of each others stories, vis entire arc in s1 is basically just defined by her sister and s2 will probably do little to change that at least in the first half. we know jinx defines herself outside of vi in some ways but she can't really cut her off, she says explicitly vi is a voice she heard over the years, and seven years on a bitch that slightly looks like vi is a trigger. silcos dead ass or not, that's not something you just move past, vi will always be the most important figure. esp since based on trailers we saw so far it seems that jinx in her current position is not living her best life, we've only seen her struggling and looking devastated so far and I assume vi will also not be thriving so I think it will only emphasise how they really are all each other has. and you can say vi has caitlyn now but first of all, caitlyn is insane amd also a bitch and now has personal and political beef with her sister. second of all, caitvi fandom simply is classist so you would think its not a problem but the class divide between them is a huge part of vis character in league and I assume they will keep thay in arcane looking at the direction they are going towards. they both will never have another person like each other, someone who knows where you come from

the reason the fandom doesnt care about it is not because its not true and factual to the show, its just how this fandom works. firstly, nobody cares about platonic relationships already. secondly, parts of the fandom that care about jinx don't necessarily care about vi and parts of the fandom that care about vi don't necessarily care about jinx so hilariously there doesn't seem to be a ton of overlap between the two parts of the fandom where you would have that relationship explored. and it's a very messy relationship that doesn't show either of them in the best light and fanon content is chronically allergic to complicated dynamics so at most you're getting like ship fics with background vi and jinx fluff or like few throwaway angst lines. and most meta on them just tries to argue that the other one is the problem kskskksksj

[littlespoonevan]

Ciara!! you are so real for that tag 'i just wanna be hELD' like???? relationships were never a necessity in my life,,hell,,im 28 and like never had one actually and it never truly bothered til this year. I feel embarrassed for not having anyone in my life ever and start to think that maybe I have some kind of a problem? because yes I haven't actively searching for it but also nobody offered anything? showed any interest?idk? and these days all I want is just to be held. I wanna come to a home where im 100% me. I'm sorry dumbing this on you I am thinking about it a lot these days and seeing your post and tags was like universe screaming at me or sth

oh bud, you are absolutely not dumping this on me!!! i'm nodding along vigorously with everything you're saying!!!!

i've been in one relationship (which was bad for So many reasons and certainly was not romantically fulfilling in any way) and i've dated a little but the true, genuine affection that comes with being loved by someone is just......not something i've ever experienced lol.

and i think when talking about it online a lot of the time the legitimate reasons some people have for wanting to be in a relationship sort of get brushed off in a 'you don't need a relationship to be happy!!!! romantic love isn't everything!!!! be proud to be alone!!!!' kind of way. and i mean. like you said, i'm fine on my own generally. it doesn't bother me. and i don't need a relationship to be happy.

but also. i'm still allowed to want one?????? why shouldn't we get to fall in love, u know??? or find that happiness and love and affection with somebody????? why should i have to settle for being alone when most of the world isn't????

and y'know, re the age thing, i think it's a vicious cycle bc the older you get, the more it maybe feels embarrassing to reveal your lack of experience with relationships so it can make you back out of dating someone before things get serious but then that just means going Even Longer without having those experiences askjdfh i have yet to work through that issue myself lol

also. i know dating apps have been very helpful in one way but in another i feel like they have rUINED dating culture bc it feels like now you do have to be actively looking in order to date anyone. (i am so firmly against the whole 'it'll happen when you least expect it' thing that is highkey not true anymore askjdfh) but my experience of those apps is just everything feeling so formulaic and like you're ticking boxes of the same basic conversation you have with multiple different people while also swiping past people you could potentially really like bc all you're seeing is a few pics and whatever info they've decided to reveal in their bio (which is usually extremely limited). and in general, i think they really don't benefit people who prefer knowing someone in person/being friends first before dating (like me)

but yeah tl;dr. it's really hard sometimes, when i've had a bad day or i'm stressed, to know if one of my friends felt like that they can go home to partners who'll hold them and comfort them and make their day better without having to be asked. and i just....go home, pick myself back up, and carry on. it would just be nice to not have to deal with everything on my own, y'know?????

relationships certainly aren't everything and not all of them are good but also i would like someone to take care of me now, thanks 🥺

[pappydaddy]

stevie-boy (s.h. + r.b.)

a/n: idk if i am liking not putting a gif or at least a picture on my fics.. also, i put both steve and robin taglists on here as its supposed be to be plantonic fic

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: platonic!steve harrington x fem!platonic!reader x platonic!robin buckley

requested

synopsis: the three sailors get a new job together and y/n get's bored while robin is on a lunch run.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: fluff | bullying (brief) | best friend banter | co-worker banter | might be a little suggestive to romantic feelings for steve (not really tho)

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

Y/N knew how it looked, but she can honestly say she did not burn down her old place of employment. No matter how many times she said she wanted to. Sure, maybe she threw one firework after the Mind Flayer went down, but she wanted to make sure it was actually dead. Like when you stomp on the dead spider for an extra time just to be safe. But, no matter how excited she was that her job did burn down, she is slightly bitter because now she worked at Family Video. Matched with the ugly green vest and girls flirting horribly with her co-worker (and she had to be subjected to it). 

  A shrill giggle cut through her skull, making her ears ring. Cringing, Y/N tried to continue her task of putting the new releases out. “She should come with a warning sign,” She muttered under her breath as she placed Warning Sign under the horror section. “Careful, long exposure may cause ear bleeds.” She rolled her eyes as another shrieking giggle hit her head like a dagger. What Steve was saying wasn’t even that funny. 

  “Oh my god! You’ve never seen Porky’s,” The girl gasped, her eyes wide at Steve. Y/N looked over her shoulder at them, giving Steve a glare. He has most definitely watched Porky’s. About twenty times within the past two months. “You are so missing out! You should come over to mine to watch it.” Okay, any girl who was willing to watch Porky’s voluntarily for a date deserves to be laid in Y/N’s opinion. 

  “Why would you need to see Porky’s when it’s your life, Stevie-boy?” Y/N chimed in, looking back to the shelf with a mischievous gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her face. One thing that Y/N enjoyed about him getting so much more female attention was the new opportunity to mess with him. He was vulnerable, an easy target. The girl snapped her head towards Y/N, chewing her gum more obnoxiously, her side ponytail swinging. Her blue covered eyelids nearly closed as she looked Y/N up and down with a disgusted look. 

  “Stevie-boy,” She repeated, her high voice oozing with disgust as she looked back over at Steve. Steve looked torn. He wanted to salvage the possible date because he really wanted to get some, but by the way she was looking at his friend, he was apprehensive. If she was acting this way with Y/N, what about with Robin and the kids? He couldn’t go with someone who didn’t mesh well with his found family. “The freak of the school is calling you Stevie-boy?” She was definitely judging not only Y/N, but also Steve. 

  That was the line and she just long-jumped over it. “Yeah, she is,” Steve stood up straighter, looking down his nose at her. “We’re friends. You have a problem with that?” He asked, his chest puffing protectively. Nobody made fun of his family except him. 

  She gave Steve the same disgusted once over, stepping away from the counter. “No. No problem,” She hummed. “Just thought you were cooler than this.” She muttered, turning on her heel and strutting out of the store, Porky’s in hand. 

  The bell ringing before the store front rattling with the door slamming behind her made Y/N look over at Steve, an innocent smile on her face. Steve glared at her, shaking his head slightly. “Look on the bright side, good thing you saw the real her before you caught feelings!” She cheered, putting out the last New Release. 

  “I wasn’t planning on catching feelings,” Steve rolled his eyes. “I just wanted sex,” He declared. Y/N snorted, grabbing the now empty box and walking behind the counter with him. “Were you too bored, or was I not giving you enough attention today? Why? Why would you ruin this for me?” Steve asked. 

  Y/N shrugged, folding the box down. “I was bored and her fake laugh was giving me a headache.” 

  The bell on the door rang out as Robin rushed in, greasy fast food bags and a tray of three drinks in her hands. “What did I miss? Why is Isabel French talking to her friends in the parking lot about how much of a dork Steve is,” Her blue eyes were frantic, she was on the edge of her seat to figure out what happened. She practically ran over to the counter, setting the bags and the drinks down. “Oh come on,” She drew out the last work, stomping her foot. “I went to get the food today, you have to tell me what happened!” 

  Steve groaned, his head falling to the counter as Y/N laughed wickedly, launching into the story. “I fucking hate both of you monsters!” He declared, his voice muffled by his arms as he stayed there, mortified slightly at the retelling and how loud Robin was laughing. 

  “Oh, shut up, Porky’s! This is revenge for calling her Wednesday Addams in front of Dean Anderson two-weeks ago,” Robin scolded. “Besides, you know you love us. If you didn’t, you would have still tried to go out with her.” 

  “Unfortunately, I do love you guys.” He grumbled half-heartedly.   “Well, I unfortunately love you too, Stevie-boy.”

[ve1vet-cake]

I posted 171 times in 2022

That's 148 more posts than 2021!

32 posts created (19%)

139 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bunnystar777

@hatchetmanofficial

@14dayswithyou

@my-quirk-is-fred

@nkuri37

I tagged 47 of my posts in 2022

#john doe game - 13 posts

#john doe - 13 posts

#oc - 11 posts

#john doe horror game - 10 posts

#yousona - 9 posts

#my dear hatchet man - 8 posts

#mdhm alan - 7 posts

#mdhm - 7 posts

#youtube - 5 posts

#john doe fanart - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 42 characters

#bestie's art improved so much i'm so proud

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I made a John Doe playlist on spotify!

I hope you guys like it! And if the artist of the pfp I used wants it removed or proper credit (cuz I couldn't find the artist) just dm me ^^

64 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

#4

MY BBY

I drew Doe in my artstyle! Might draw his cute side with a makeover later ^^

His reaction to you shrieking

225 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

#3

Sleep positions with my sona and the yans

270 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#2

John Doe Headcanons pt2

Aight sooo I've ben stalking looking at the twitter acc of Doe's creator aannnd got new info which debunks my previous post. Because I'm a sucker for accuracy here's a new headcanon/imagine thingy

_________________________________________

Bc his body apparently dissolves when in water (I think it's basically clay) he'd more likely just watch you while you bathe or shower while keeping a safe distance. I suppose it's cute having little conversations

Taking baths with his true hairball form is possible sooo you can play with him or wash that form if you'd like

Considering he was never a child and the Uncanny Valley is filled with peculiar... Specimens.. I have a feeling he'd be confused on how children work or what it's like being one like.. "Wdym you had to learn to do all this???", "How did you survive??", "What's it like having parents?"

Just a small question.. Is he capable of having children????? If yes... Jesus christ get every parent book on the planet and try to explain a being that never had a childhood how to take care of a baby

If Doe is able to have a baby I bet he'd try being a good parent and listen to you properly for advice

Imagine his hairball form is really warm and when you're on your period he can just lay on you and warm you nicely

What if he melts or bakes when exposed to heat

I bet he'd eat pretty much anything you cook, even if it's not the best food. You made it and that's enough for him

Given he loves bugs I had to think abt him betting sad when you squash one in front of him or idk douse it in anti-bug spray

Will be you goth gf or bf or anything in between-Please someone style Doe hella goth, bby needs to realize it

On the other hand imagine pastel Doe like in all pretty colours with stickers🥺

Nsfw

Not only his tounge is long bit also his dick. Be careful tho, he might manage to impale you💀

Once you're actually having sex he would be scared of hurting you, taking his size into account and this bih is probably stronger than he looks.

From what I can gather he can change his body so he more than likely knows what generally makes you feel good

T i d d i e s

See the full post

368 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

John Doe Headcanons [outdated]

(That nobody asked for)

This will prolly contain nsfw stuff sooo.. BEWARE

Haven't done stuff like this before so uhm enjoy anyways💀

_____________________________

He would probably be kind of pet like when he's in his all lovey dovey form once you're dating or more romantically involved (got that vibe from the Dream ending he looked like a cute lil pup there)

He would take care of you very gently. Having learned from his past mistakes in previous loops he will more likely know how you wish to be treated and what your no-gos are. Plus he specifically said he can be whatever You want. I feel like he would sit down with you to learn more just so he can make everything perfect

Tying in with the previous point I think he's a complete perfectionist when it comes to your relationship. He wants you to adore him as much as he does and-most importantly-feel comfortable! So you can expect him observing you carefully, trying to match you perfectly without changing too much (as you still love him for him but it's cute how he tries to adapt to your behaviour in order to make the relationship work out)

Talking to my depressed folks or others incapable of taking care of themselves-he got you. First of all he doesn't (obviously) bother if you haven't showered regularly or can't keep up with cleaning in general-he doesn't either. But I feel like he will try to cheer you up and be a goddamn... Whatever he is-blessing. Although he hates baths or being clean he would bathe with you and shower you in love in an attempt to make you feel better. I feel like he would also feed you or gently push you to do something that wouldn't be out of your comfort zone.

He will reassure you that you're beautiful the way you are whenever you feel insecure. Bodily "flaws"? Nah. Smell/Sweat? He likes it. Personality "flaws"? He'll help you through it. In his eyes you're a beauty (not only in his though, be confident bestie<3) that needs to be cherished

He only showers or bathes when you're joining him. He needs your extra warmth and enjoys you washing him. Running your fingers through his long hair, scrubbing his skin or massaging him. He LOVES it. Might end with some steamy sex though-

He fidgets a lot when nervous or talking to you. Even if you're dating for a while he will still fidget as if he were to ask you on your first date whenever he asks for cuddles or how you like his presents (this time normal ones unless you like gore haha)

His hair is suuuuuuuper soft. Like, fluffy and silky. It's usually all greasy bc.. You know him. But when you wash his hair and take care of it for him your hands want to stay tangled in them forever-much to his pleasure

This is also seen in the game but I love those little hair-eyeballs that watch you. One is always on your body when you're off to work and he can't come with you. It always sits in your pocket or bag and stares at you with little hearts in its pupil

Nsfw~

He can control himself or his sex drive just fine but when you move a certain way, look at him all seductive or cute or just wear his clothes with barely anything underneath he loses it. He'll probably rail you to hell and back while the environment changes rapidly due to his lack of control

He enjoys oral, especially giving and having you tug on his hair. Do it a little rough though and he might glitch a little from anticipation

Definitely a switch, more sub leaning I assume because of his... Trying to be dom but not really dom behaviour. Say he will gladly top and command you in bed, maybe make some more confident advances or remarks in a well developed relationship, but just one strict look and he'd probably melt back to his puppy demeanor.

Ties in with the point above; I feel like he prefers giving over receiving as he gets enough pleasure from you being happy or satisfied. He will whine a little though and of course noone will just leave him frustrated (except fellow sadists perhaps, but even then be careful or he might switch to his sadistic side)

Feel like he's very into bondage, knife play and breeding. Basically anything violent and close. Seeing you bleed or bruised and enjoying it? Fuck yes. All tied up like a present for him to open? He'll lose his remaining sanity. The thought of you filled with him, his name leaving your mouth in soft moans, enjyoing his closeness? He could die. Doe would also very much enjoy receiving cuts, bruises etc

_____________________

Aight that's all I could think of rn

516 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Damn I really am obsessed with a living hairball😩

[eluxcastar]

A soft Sika madu x reader please ?

Some favouritism for you.

FEATURES: shikama doji

CW: not proofread I couldn't be bothered tbh

WC: 800

NOTES: I lied here's this self-indulgent spew of brainrot

aight here we go 😔 it is kinda heavy implied reader is a Vampire or atleast soon to be one yk like when a historian says two people are roommates kinda implied. Looking back at this it seems like I'm rambling kinda Idk how well this turned out so I'm gonna tag it as headcanons

there's a possum at my window and he's scratching somebody come get your man 😭

you weren't sure when you started to notice it, surely not because you were imagining it however. It was becoming rather obvious how much he called for your help, small things, but not subtle enough you were oblivious. The times he used to call for Ashera hadn't changed, there were just more times he wanted your help.

why? You hadn't figured that part out yet, he wasn't exactly what one might call keen to share his motives of any kind with anyone, he just did, and you accepted. It was nice to think that on the days Ashera wasn't with you and Yū was off playing with his snake somewhere, probably off waving it in Urd's face while he awkwardly tried to dissuade him, your Master wanted to have your company in his rare moment of peace.

you knew he couldn't get those much, nobody really could with the sheer amount of people who lived there none quite yet to fully go off on their own. Even for you your idea of peace and quiet came only from these moments, and the idea he was somehow spoiling you was a strangely elating one.

out of everyone there, almost all of them much stronger and with far more maturity than you, your initial fears of realising you were the newest little lamb in the den of wolves was eased by the fact even just this man alone acknowledged you. He is something not of this world. They all listen to him. They would never hurt you if he adored you, not like you feared, even Rígr who took his pleasures in teasing you had admitted that.

you didn't quite fit anywhere yet, with the eldest two already closet off in a little pair and close as they had been for a long time, and the generation after them in a stage just past where you were right now all having accepted what they had become. Then there was finally you, the one who would begin the fourth generation, at least from what you understood of it. You never could understand much of Sika Madu's ramblings and explanations as he showed you things and explained to you things you never could quite grasp.

the one thing you did understand was universal, the little touches, the hand that ghosted across your back as soon as you we're in arms reach to usher you closer, the hand that smoothed your hair back into place on occasion, even his apparently unusual willingness to answer your questions to the point you were slowly becoming the messenger of other people's curiosities. He often acknowledged he knew and yet he also acknowledged why you kept doing it.

"Why do you keep coming to me with questions other people have asked me? Have you figured out this is a way to make them like you?"

it embarrassed you at the time, but he answered and sent you on your way, telling you to "Run along now back to Raimei." somehow knowing exactly who had sent you in the first place.

his seemingly unending patience for you made you feel more welcomed than any of the people he had asked to take care of you, though entrusting you to the eldest was his initial reaction and taught you some things, nothing would compare to the subtle pampering you were getting compared to how much he regarded the others, a selfish indulgence to prize how much more attention he pays you above everyone else.

there's a certain comfort in the way Sika Madu almost seems to treasure you, at least in your perspective, the few times you have fallen asleep by his side in the middle of work met with a gentle pat on the head and something to keep you warm. You recalled a time you almost bawled your eyes out to him and despite having no idea what to do he let you cry to him, the second you were fine he asked you. "What is it you want to do?"

so many things he had provided you, times he spent alone with you asking for comfort, though from what you weren't sure. He had three requests, follow him, sit with him and let him lay his head in your lap. Those were easy but it was the surprise fourth request that caught you off guard, "I'll answer a few of your questions, if you become desperate for answers, but I don't want them to be other people's questions." and for the first time he turned you away from giving out information, taking your hand and he pressed it to his cheek, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

it was as if he was now revelling in your company, not just making you comfortable in his.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

[yslkook]

RAINBERRY (6)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you share a series of moments with jungkook, come to several realizations about sora. things shift...for the better or for worse? pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship, suggestive content (hooking up)

word count: 7305... yeah idk what happened lmao

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz

***

“You come here often?” A voice behind you murmurs in your ear. You nearly jump, but you already know who it is.

Jungkook. Ever since he had texted you letting you know that he was on his way, you’d been eagerly looking for him in the crowded, dim lights of the bar.

“No,” You say, unable to stop a giggle from pushing past your lips.

“Lucky for me then, huh?” Jungkook grins, his smile a little dark and a little seductive. It sends a thrill up your spine.

“It is,” You nod, “Really lucky for you. And for me-”

You internally cringe at yourself. Did you learn to flirt only yesterday? Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you in amusement before letting his hand rest on your lower back.

“C’mon, pretty, I’ll get you a drink,” Jungkook says, “Maybe then you’ll pick up a trick or two on the subject of flirting.”

You gasp and swat his chest, “Don’t be so rude.”

Jungkook stands in between your legs at the bar, one hand on your thigh and one hand gripping his drink. You’re laughing at something he said in your ear, something funny that happened at the tattoo parlor earlier in the day-

“Mina and Mei pretended to be the other to see how long it would take for Jin to notice, since he can never tell them apart-”

“You’re all terrible, and poor Jin, you always instigate with him!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jungkook nearly pouts at you.

“Oh? Why’s that? Maybe I like Jin more than I like you,” You reply, leaning closer to him.

“But you still like me, right?” Jungkook says, discreetly weaving his fingers through yours. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but even if someone was, you wouldn’t mind.

Or so you thought nobody was paying attention to either of you.

“Mmm… maybe a little bit,” You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Tell me how cool and pretty you think I am, and then I’ll decide.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. His bright, bunny smile makes you smile. “You already know how cool and pretty I think you are, baby.”

“You could stand to mention it a little more.”

“And what about me?” Jungkook says, leaning forward, “You never compliment me, baby…”

“That’s- that’s not true,” You whisper. He’s close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes, the ridges on his plump, pouty bottom lip, the mole below his lip.

“But I guess you don’t need to, not really,” Jungkook says airily, “Not when I can tell that you think about me. Because my girl’s dirty, huh?”

You squeeze his lithe fingers tightly and he smiles at you, sin painted in the curves of his wicked grin.

“Uh-” You stammer, your face feeling hot, “You’re really cute?”

He throws his head back once more and you grin bashfully at him. “And I like spending time with you,” You say softly, looking up at him as if you want him to hang the moon for you.

Jungkook curses under his breath. Because he would, he really would.

“How lucky for me,” Jungkook says, patting your head fondly.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes.

Before the night ends (and you endure the teasing of Mina and Mei), you manage to convince Jungkook into taking pictures with you. Mina is all too happy to take them. You don’t know how many candids she takes of you both- you get lost in his voice and the glint in his eyes.

And then he abruptly kisses your cheek, and your breath hitches with the feel of his lips against your skin leaving your heart sputtering helplessly in your chest.

Mei and Mina are both cooing in the background at their favorite couple who isn’t quite a couple just yet. Jungkook glares at both of them, only causing them both to laugh.

And then the moment is ruined by none other than Sora herself. Jungkook sighs, already knowing that you’re going to be pulled away from him. He doesn’t know why she’s even here when nobody here likes or knows her except for you. But you’re too nice to leave her out of things (mainly because you don’t want her to get upset at you for it). So Jungkook says nothing, only narrowing his eyes at her when she comes close.

She eyes his arm around your waist and how close you’re standing to him suspiciously.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sora groans, clutching her stomach. How dramatic, Jungkook scoffs. As if she’s never handled alcohol before. Jungkook looks for the blurriness that comes with alcohol in her eyes and is unsurprised to find nothing.

But perhaps his dislike for her is outweighing reality.

“Door’s right there,” Jungkook says bluntly, “And the bathroom's over there. Knock yourself out.”

He tightens his hand over your waist, ignoring your gentle swat of your hand against his chest.

“Can we go home?” Sora pouts at you, but not before sending Jungkook a glare. Jungkook already knows you’re nodding- it seems that Sora always gets what she wants.

He knows she’s faking it, and you’re too nice to see through her bullshit.

Well, Jungkook gets what he wants, too.

“I can take you both home?” Jungkook says, though the thought of being within five feet of her sends him recoiling.

“No! We can get home ourselves,” Sora nearly hisses.

“What about when she drops you off at your apartment? You gonna let her walk home alone?” Jungkook scoffs.

“She doesn’t live that far, and she can take care of herself. Or she can sleepover,” Sora answers heatedly, as if you’re not right there.

“She is right here. And I’m not sleeping over, I have an early morning tomorrow,” You say easily, feeling annoyance beginning to stir in your belly. It’s a lie, but Sora doesn’t need to know that. “Go wait at the door, Sora. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And for once, Sora listens to you.

“Jungkook,” You murmur with heated cheeks, “Maybe I can see you later tonight?”

Jungkook laughs in surprise. His girl isn’t just flirty and touchy, you’re a liar. And you’re a liar for him.

“Sure baby, whatever you want. Just please text me when you get home. Or call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Jungkook says, returning your tipsy smile. He wants to glare in Sora’s direction but refrains from doing so.

He can hear both Mira and Mei both giggling into their hands a few feet away, but you don’t seem to hear it. You don’t seem to hear anything but him.

“Okay,” You beam at him, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you get Sora in the safe hands of her roommates and tucked into bed with a glass of water, it’s nearly 1:30 AM.

“Promise me somethin’,” She says, her eyes half awake. But you can tell she’s alert and aware.

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, about to text Jungkook telling him you’re going home soon.

“You need to stay away from Jeon,” She mumbles, watching you like a hawk, “He’s not a good guy-”

“I think you’re tired, Sora,” You say, not meeting her gaze, “I’m pretty tired, too. So ‘m gonna go home. Sleep well.”

“I mean it, he’ll break your heart, you know. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sleep well,” You whisper easily, levelling her with an intense gaze. She feels herself being scrutinized as if she’s under a microscope, but the heat dissipates quickly as you turn on your heel.

Lying to her comes so easily, even with your heart pounding painfully in your ears. But you know that’s not Jungkook’s influence on you, as she might claim. Jungkook has never been a liar- apparently that’s reserved only for you.

Jungkook is only a few blocks away from Sora’s apartment building so you remain on the phone with him, giggling quietly, as you meet him halfway. He covers more ground quicker than you so he catches up to you quickly.

“Hi,” You laugh wildly, not sure what you’re even laughing at. You’re giddy just from the sight of him and you shyly take his hand in yours. He looks at you in surprise but says nothing, only rubbing your thumb with his own.

“Hey, baby,” He says smoothly. You only beam at him in response to how he is apparently unaffected by you. It’s so easy for you to push Sora’s words from your mind, when Jungkook is standing right by your side looking at you like that.

“I live kind of far from here,” You confess, “It’s like a fifteen or twenty minute drive.”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, pulling his phone out for an Uber. “I hate that you Uber home alone so often from here,” Jungkook says, “Don’t do that anymore. You’ve heard the stories right?”

“Yeah, I have,” You shrug, “I don’t really know who else I can call all the way from here-”

“Me,” Jungkook says sharply, “Yoongi. Hobi. Jin. Mei. Mina. Any of us, baby. Fuckin’ Sora should drive you home.”

“She’s drunk, she can’t drive!”

“Not this time, just in general,” Jungkook mutters, “Some best friend, letting you ride alone in a damn Uber for twenty minutes without even checking up on you-”

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You mumble abruptly, “I want to go home, Jungkook. Will you take me home?”

And who is he to deny you?

In hindsight, maybe you should have slowed down. Maybe he should have slowed down. But the minute you enter the threshold of your home, your hands are warm and welcoming on his chest. You want him, you need him, you need him to hold you the way you know he wants to.

Your lips are sweet against his, trembling and burning all at once.

It’s been about an hour since you both ended up falling into your bed together, and most of that hour has been filled with you both locking lips. It had been you who had pressed your hands to his firm chest with determined eyes and a deep furrow in your brow before pressing your lips to his.

As quickly as it happened, it feels right. You’re sitting on his lap as if you belong, hips slowly rocking into his as your hands pull his hair out of the ponytail that it’s in. You sigh happily when you card through his hair, fingertips gentle over his scalp.

Jungkook loves the soft, pretty noises he pulls from you with each slip of his tongue into your mouth. You’re hungry, impatient, nothing of what his initial first impression of you was. You always want more, more, more and he wants to give, give, give.

He should’ve been more surprised than he really was when you had tugged his hand into your bedroom, pushed him to your bed and climbed into his lap. Your eyes are hooded, as you duck your head to meet his lips.

He tastes like honey and mint and something sweet. He smells like fresh laundry. You could lose yourself in him, you think, as you bite his lower lip generously.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, missing the warmth of your lips immediately, “Wait.”

But he moans again when you nip his bottom lip gently, coaxing your way into his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to pull away, your honeyed lips too tempting for him. You complain vocally, deciding to press your lips to his neck instead.

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, a little firmly with a tight grip on your hips.

“Honey,” You say in the same tone, your lips pulled into a pretty pout.

“Slow down,” Jungkook murmurs, gently placing you on the bed, your back against your freshly washed sheets. You hum and wrap an arm around his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as you just watch him. Jungkook looks so good above you, lips perfectly pink and pillowy… You’re tempted to lick the column of his neck, all along the swirls of ink, but you don’t.

“It’s late,” You muse, twirling his hair within your fingers. He won’t admit that he feels like putty in your arms, hovering above you.

“Great observation,” Jungkook says dryly, “Anything else you wanna share with the class?”

“Will you stay over,” You murmur, looking up at him as he lays in between your legs and dots your cheeks in soft kisses.

“You want that, baby? Pretty baby wants me to stay over?” Jungkook nearly coos at you, and you swat his hand away at his teasing.

“Shut up,” You mumble, “Only because it’s like, 3 in the morning and it would be shitty for you to go all the way across the city alone.”

“Yeah, right, only because it's three AM. Not because you want to cuddle,” Jungkook snorts.

“You’re only good for cuddling, anyway,” You shoot back, “I have some of my dad’s sweats and shirts if you want to change. Get off me, you big oaf.”

“My girl’s mean, huh?

“Oh, who said anything about your girl,” You mutter, embracing the heat in your face.

Jungkook peels his leather jacket off, but he catches your curious eyes before you turn away and all but run into the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. He’s waiting in your bed as if he lives there, waiting for you to join him.

“Why do you look so nervous in your own bedroom,” Jungkook asks bluntly, chuckling at your soft noise of offense.

“It’s not everyday I have you in my bed,” You mumble, peeling the covers back to slide into bed next to him.

“You want it to be everyday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” You reply, pinching his waist. He yelps and grips your wrist loosely.

“You okay with this or what? I can sleep on the couch if you’re not,” Jungkook says, rubbing your wrist gently.

You hum, “I’m good. You good?”

“Got the prettiest girl right here. Of course I’m good,” Jungkook says, winking at you. You hide your face from him and swat his chest.

“Good night,” You mumble, “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Who the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles into your hair, “The fuck is calling you this early, what the fuck-”

You groan, pushing your face into his chest as if that’ll push the jarring sound of your phone blaring out of your mind. Rubbing your eyes with an irritated sigh, you reach over to blindly feel for your phone on the nightstand but Jungkook reaches it first.

“Of course,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “She never misses a fucking beat does she? Even at 6:20 in the fucking morning...”

You catch a glimpse at the phone and see that it’s Sora calling you. You take the phone from his hands, letting him wrap himself around you with a pout. You run your hand over his back silently as you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You grumble raspily, voice filled with remnants of the morning.

“Hey, just checking that you were awake. You said you had an early morning today, right?” Sora's chipper voice booms into the receiver. You cringe. Has she always sounded like that?

“Yeah…” You reply, but you’re a little distracted by the way that Jungkook’s lips attach to the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…”

“You there? You falling asleep on me, or what?” Sora asks, “Always so distracted, you should seriously pay more attention-”

Jungkook hears her and glares at the phone. His eyes harden and he moves quickly, without warning you. He takes the phone from your hands swiftly as if it’s personally offended him.

“Leave us alone, Sora,” Jungkook says, steel and frustration clear in his voice, “It’s too early for this shit, go do something productive and leave us alone. ”

You watch him with gobsmacked eyes, knowing this won’t end well but unable to find it in yourself to care as much as you should.

At least not yet.

Sora’s flabbergasted screech pierces the previously quiet morning air through your phone and you wince. You knew she wouldn’t be happy, but you’ll deal with her later. When a sleepy, pouty Jungkook wasn’t in front of you already chasing your lips with his.

“Kook,” You sigh, turning your cheek to face him. He plants his lips on yours easily, pulling the words right off of your tongue and filling your mind with air.

“You embarrassed of me or something,” Jungkook teases.

“What? No,” You say sharply, eyes wide, “Why would you think that?”

“You lied to her last night and you lied to her just now. You don’t have an early morning,” Jungkook says, hands running over your cheek, “You only have me in your bed.”

“She keeps telling me I should stay away from you,” You confess, “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you, but I’ll talk to her about it later. I don’t want my best friend to not like you-”

“Is she? Your best friend?” Jungkook asks, cutting you off. Your eyes are round with confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” You ask softly, “We’ve been close since college-”

“I know all the facts, baby,” Jungkook says, trying his best to not insult Sora to you the way he wants to, “I know she’s been your friend since college, you’ve seen each other at your worst, all of the usual bullshit-”

“Hey!”

“... Why do you think she doesn’t want you to have anything to do with me? If she was really your best friend, she wouldn’t be this fucking concerned or involved-”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” You shrug, “She’s just… protective of me.”

“She cares too fucking much in my opinion,” Jungkook says, “Fucking control freak. Would someone protective of you send you on a blind date with an asshole who stood you up and didn’t even reach out to you after?”

Jungkook has a lot more he wants to say about Sora and how she treats you, but he keeps it to himself for now.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Only looking at him with those disarming eyes. He hasn’t said much about it, but your gears are already turning. You’ve been growing more and more tired of Sora’s antics- mainly the way she never seems to take into account your feelings unless it benefits her. It was tolerable in college, but the more you fell for Jungkook, the more tiresome it was becoming.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You say finally, a repeat of what you said last night.

Jungkook looks at you, something undecipherable in his eyes, before nodding and quietly meeting your warm, sleepy lips with his own.

It’s been a total of thirty-six hours since you kissed Jungkook and he had spent the night with you. You haven’t had any type of conversation with him about what your kiss with him meant, what him staying the night over meant. It doesn't’ stop you from feeling giddy at the thought of him, from replaying the last kiss he had given you. From leaving you wanting more.

You think nothing of it as you cheerily buy a dozen donuts to bring with you to the tattoo parlor to surprise Jungkook and your friends. Maybe you can sneak a kiss in.

But the minute you walk into the parlor, you know something is a little off. Jungkook’s shoulders are tense, a pensive look settled in his eyes. His jaw is clenched, tongue poking his cheek.

“Hi,” You murmur, offering him the box of donuts, “I come bearing treats.”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. He chews on his chapped bottom lip, deep in thought. You didn’t know what to expect after seeing him for the first time after he spent the night with you, but this isn’t what you expected.

He’s standing across from you with crossed arms over his broad chest. The air between you both feels cold and still, icy as you exhale. He’s upset about something, and after before you can ask him what’s wrong (before you can stop your own spiral downwards), he beats you to the punch-

“I don’t understand you,” Jungkook says, his voice perfectly calm and even. But it’s eerie.

Your heart drops to your stomach instantly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“What?” You hate how soft, how weak your voice sounds. But you can’t help it, not when disappointment coats his eyes and when he speaks to you like he’s disgusted by you. You don’t understand him either. The way he switches up on you with no warning.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to tell you what’s been on his mind. Instead of the practiced speech that sounded much calmer in his mind, what comes out is-

“You let Sora walk all over you,” Jungkook hisses, “You let her dictate almost every fucking decision! She has this inexplicable hold over you, and you don’t even know it!”

Jungkook hates confrontation, he really does. But he’s at his wit’s end with you and with Sora. Mostly with you, for not seeing a terrible friend in front of your eyes even when everyone tries telling you. How can you be this blinded by it? By her?

“She manipulates you at every turn, and you just let her! And you know what, I get it- it’s hard to recognize it when you’re in it. But we’ve all told you. She’s not a good friend to you, at all!”

Your face falls, heart sinking into a black hole that begins to swirl in your belly. You can’t stand it, the fire in his eyes despite the ice in his voice. You don’t like this. You don’t like this.

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on listening to her,” Jungkook seethes, getting angrier the more he thinks about Sora, “She treats you like shit- you have to know you deserve better than that, right? She sabotages you every chance she gets. She doesn’t like any of us, you know that? And forget that- why don’t you fucking ask yourself why she has the opposite opinion to everything when it comes to something you like? Your fucking car, your apartment, your job, your choice in decor. Even me.”

His words make you ache terribly and you desperately need something to hold on to to ground yourself. You shove your fists in the pockets of your jacket and surely, you’re clenching your fists tight enough that your nails are piercing through the skin of your palms.

“You never question her intentions. You’ve never even dreamed of questioning her,” Jungkook continues with a cruel sneer, lips twisting into something unfamiliar that cuts across you, “You should ask yourself why. You should ask yourself by you’re always defending her, walking on eggshells around her, afraid to be in disagreement with her, when she doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

But he doesn’t stop there, “You’re so fucking naive a-and fucking foolish. You can’t see how she always has to have you in the palm of her hand, how she makes sure she’s ahead of you in life, by whatever twisted definition of that she has. You deserve better than her. And I know I deserve better than to be hidden because you’re too scared to face your supposed best friend.”

You don’t have any words. Your brain seems to short circuit at his harsh truths, unable to formulate a single sentence. Instead your hands tremble and your eyes become wet.

You say nothing. As always, you say nothing.

“You’re not gonna say anything? Not even now?” Jungkook asks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Another five seconds goes by before you open your mouth, “I d-don’t know what to say,” Your voice is quiet, unlike what Jungkook is used to, “It seems you’ve already made up your mind about me. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jungkook could scream in frustration. You still won’t say what’s on your mind, even when he insults you straight to your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking (mainly because you hardly ever say anything about it), despite being able to read you easily.

“I think I should go,” You say in the same soft, defeated voice, “I b-brought donuts, but umm… they’re over there. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn your back on him and on the tattoo parlor to head outside. He doesn’t see the trembling of your hands or of your shoulders. He doesn’t know that you somehow hold your tears back the whole way home, biting down harshly on your bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Jungkook doesn’t know that you barely make it into your apartment with his words ringing cruelly in your head. He doesn’t know that you collapse in your bed in a mess of sobs and the sound of your heart aching.

You’re alone.

It takes all of thirty seconds after your departure for Jungkook to realize the weight of his words and for your defeated, hunched over shoulders to replay in his mind like a movie. It takes another forty seconds for Mina and Mei to emerge from their respective offices (where he’s certain they heard the entire conversation) and scream at him for his callousness-

“I have never known you to speak to anyone like that, let alone the girl that you’ve liked for who knows how long! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mina says and smacks the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Mei continues with narrowed eyes, “You better apologize to her and kiss her fucking feet-”

“Who else was going to tell her about Sora? She hasn’t listened to-”

“There is a way to communicate these things!” Mei says angrily, “You yelling at her like that wasn’t the move and you know it. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, equally as angry. He pulls away from both of them, not wanting to hear it from them anymore.

“That girl Sora is a fucking bitch but you’re no better for how you just behaved,” Mina hisses, “Get your shit together, Jeon.”

He knows that he was harsh, maybe too harsh with you. Looking back on the memory of your glossy eyes and sad, slumped shoulders… You hadn’t even fought him. You’d just accepted his barrage of words as fact, without even thinking to provide an explanation or a defense of yourself.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut in shame. Once the anger dissolves into hurt, he reaches a conclusion. He should’ve just talked to you rather than lash out at you like that.

You’re no delicate flower, but damn, he’d do anything to take away the broken look in your eyes.

You take exactly two days off from work to sort through your feelings and thoroughly comb through your previous memories with Sora, and subsequently, with all of your friends. You spend most of this time in your bed, under the covers and scrolling through old photos from college and post-grad life.

It’s funny- you don’t really know where your sense of self got away from you.

You’ve always approached people- relationships, friendships- logically and rationally. Or at least you thought you had. It seems like a lot of your reactions to things that may have upset you or bothered you (or lack thereof) was for the convenience of others- namely Sora.

You bury your head in your hands when she passes through your memory. How could you have let it escalate this far? Can you be so blind to someone treating you so horribly for this long? Can you excuse her behavior for the simple fact that she’s been your supposed friend for years?

You try to think back on a time when you felt like you could unabashedly be yourself around Sora without any consequence for simply existing.

You come up blank.

Logic comes easy to you. It’s easy for you to make the decision to finally speak to Sora and say what needs to be said. Especially when your other friends were hurt by her actions, and by extension, yours.

After about another thirty-six hours, you decide. It doesn’t surprise you, how easy it is to make the decision. You decide that this “friendship” with Sora isn’t worth it. Not when she’s made you feel like this for years and if she treats your friends this way, too.

You’ll give her a chance to explain, but most of your mind is set already. Considering how well you know her, you know how this conversation is going to go. You dread it, but it must be done. Even if it’s long overdue.

“I need you to be honest with me,” You say plainly, keeping your face neutral even as your heart hammers away in your chest. At least you’re in the safety and comfort of your own home, your pastel green throw pillow on your lap acting as an anchor.

Sora sits across from you, an eyebrow raised. Her mouth is twisted into something defensive, on the ready to eat you alive. How could you not notice it before?

“When am I ever not honest with you?” Sora scoffs.

“Then it should be easy for you to answer a few questions for me, and we can be on our merry ways,” You say breezily, your eyes hardened. She swallows. Good.

“The fuck you being so formal for?” Sora laughs, but her smile drops when she sees that you’re not joking.

“Why are you so mean to Jungkook and his friends? My friends?” You ask without missing a beat. You cross your arms over your chest and look at her expectantly. Your ears feel warm, but you press on.

Even if Jungkook is perhaps irreparably upset with you, you think this is his influence. Growing a spine and sticking up for yourself, for the people around you.

“Seriously? That’s what’s got your panties twisted?” Sora says, waving a dismissive hand at you, “Don’t worry about them, they don’t know you like I do- I mean who else was holding your hair back when you were throwing your guts up in college?”

“I don’t think the quality of a friendship should be assessed by how many drunken nights we had.”

“Who else was there for you when nobody else was?” Sora hisses, “I took you home when your parents left you for the holidays, I was the one who was there with you when your shitty ex’s ghosted you, god, your taste is the worst-I was the only one who ever saw you!”

You squeeze your pillow far too tightly.

“Stop holding that shit over my head,” You snap, “Those are just things that friends do. I never begged you for your support and I shouldn’t have to feel like I owe you something other than friendship just for being your only fucking friend who put up with your shit for this long.”

Before she can open her mouth to speak, you cut across her, “Stop talking about the past. College was years ago at this point. We graduated fucking almost six years ago. And even in college… you haven’t changed a bit,” You let out a mirthless laugh, “What do you have to say for our friendship right now? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have set me up with a loser who stood me up. You afraid of something, Sora? You afraid I’ve been around people who are friends with me because they actually like me, not because they get off on a weird power trip?

“Ever since the beginning, all you’ve done is push me away from myself,” You say with trembling lips, “E-everything, you’ve just… you just take everything I like and I want and completely dismiss it. It’s n-not right. A-and it took this long, for Jungkook to call it out for me to realize. This- this isn’t friendship-”

To your misery, her lips morph into a cruel sneer. “Jungkook? You went behind my back-”

“Behind your back? You don’t even have a good reason-”

“I told you, I’m only-”

“No! You’re gonna let me finish, for once,” You raise your voice, levelling her with a glare containing years worth of anger, “It’s clear, with or without Jungkook, that you’ve only kept me around to make yourself feel better. How twisted is that! You kept me down, made me doubt myself and everything just so you could feel better.”

You take a deep, deafening breath.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Even now, you can’t reassure me. Even now, you can’t call on our friendship as something fond to remember. You weaponized me for your own insecurities. Get out.”

“Get out? You’re kicking me out?” Sora’s sneer drops immediately. Maybe you’re being cruel, but you can’t take it anymore. Something passes across her face that makes you draw an ounce of sympathy for her but it evaporates immediately.

“Yup,” You say, popping the ‘p’, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we ever were. So thanks, for bringing me back to my senses.”

And that’s that- she leaves with her tail between her legs, not pleading for your affection or your friendship. You’re grateful for that, because you feel like you might collapse in about two minutes.

***

It has been exactly nine days since you ended your friendship with Sora and exactly fourteen days since you stepped foot in the tattoo parlor. You’ve only just reached out to Mei and Mina, in between sporadic texts to Hobi and Yoongi.

It’s been exactly two weeks since you spoke to Jungkook. You miss him, you miss his crooked smirk, his bunny smile. Most of all, you miss the comfort and safety his presence brings. But you’re too nervous to reach out to him again, his harsh words and fiery eyes blinking back at you in your own mind. You’re nervous to even show your face at the tattoo parlor.

Jungkook has been receiving an earful from all of his friends since the last day he spoke to you. Hobi’s wrath, along with Mei and Mina’s wrath, is something he never wants to relive twice. Yoongi and Jin also lectured him, and he only looked at them with wide, doe eyes in understanding. Whatever anger he was holding on to has simmered down to hurt, and now he just misses you. And he very much regrets the way he spoke to you.

He winces when he recalls his cruel words, the sharp edge of his tongue that slipped out so easily. So quickly, to strike you right where it hurts. Jungkook can’t get your stricken expression out of his mind. Knowing he put that look on your face, it makes him ache. And he’s the coward, for still not reaching out to you to apologize.

He’s too nervous to face you, but he has to.

***

jeon jungkook : hi. can we talk sometime soon?

It takes you fifteen minutes to respond. What he doesn’t know is that you had panicked for ten of those fifteen minutes, nearly dropping your phone when you had seen his name pop up on your screen.

you 🧡 : hi. sure. Where?

***

You give yourself a pep talk the entire drive to the park. You’re glad he suggested a park, and a park close to your home- you’re grateful for the open area. You’re incredibly nervous to see him for the first time in a while, running through different scenarios in your head before scolding yourself.

It’s Jungkook. Even if he hurt you, it’s still Jungkook. You trust him. You want to trust him.

You spot Jungkook leaning on his motorcycle, looking like a vision in all black. As almost always a strand of black hair escapes his ponytail as he lights his cigarette. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice his nerves in the way he grips his lighter tightly.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Hi.”

You wring your hands together, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. You’re just as nervous as he is, he realizes. But still, you stand with your back straightened, eyes wary. You glow, and despite the fact that it’s only been two weeks, he senses something different about you.

“Hi,” Jungkook murmurs, the pet name on the tip of his tongue but he refrains, “Come here. Can I hug you?”

“Y-yeah,” You nod with a small smile and he envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly. Inhaling every bit of you that he can. He wants to kiss you again, kiss you breathless, kiss you so that you forget his cruelty.

But he can’t erase it. So he doesn’t.

“I brought blankets for us,” Jungkook murmurs, pointing to the basket, “Let’s go sit?”

You nod and follow his lead.

***

“It was messed up,” You say forlornly, “We kissed, we kissed a lot, you slept in my bed and then you yelled at me. Insulted me in your tattoo parlor. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot.” There’s only a little malice in your voice, but he’ll take it.

You’re both sitting across from each other, knees touching with open and honest eyes. You feel vulnerable and exposed around him, especially considering how your last conversation with him went.

“You should’ve just talked to me,” You mumble.

“I know,” Jungkook says instantly, takes your much smaller hands in his and squeezes, “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that. You didn’t deserve that from me. You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all from me. I’m sorry I let everything fester and took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

You look away from him for a millisecond before nodding, “You’d cry too, if the man you liked, the man you just spent the night with for the first time, spoke to you like that. In his own place of work. I only brought you donuts and you just- what the fuck? You just went off on me, I had no idea you were even feeling that intensely about Sora. About me-

“I’m not naive and I’m not stupid. Don’t take me for a fool,” You say pointedly, not letting go of his hands. Jungkook cringes before opening his mouth.

“You’re not naive or stupid, I’m sorry-”

“But… I understand, I think. You know when you kind of… know something but it takes another person for you to realize? I think I always knew how Sora was and didn’t want to face it. Or face her. For so long, it felt like she was all I had for some reason. Like even if there were others, it felt like her approval mattered the most. And I realized it was because she just always had this way of making me feel less than her. But mostly, I owe that realization to you. Even if you went about it the wrong way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, “I’m so fucking sorry, I should’ve just talked to you about how I was feeling, rather than take it out on you. You deserve better than that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” You say, surprising him, “For allowing her to get in the way of us, for allowing her to run her mouth. For not having a spine-”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, “When someone is controlling and manipulative like that, it’s hard to see past it-”

“But is it an excuse?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head, “I let it hurt you, hurt Yoongi, Hobi, Mina, Mei…”

“Maybe not an excuse. But it makes it understandable,” Jungkook says, “All we can do is move forward right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” You nod, “I know it doesn’t really change much now, but… I told Sora I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. In fact, I kicked her out of my apartment. It was very dramatic and satisfying. Like something out of a movie.”

Jungkook laughs despite himself, pulling a small smile from you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“You just ended a friendship with someone who’s been around for a long time. That’s not easy.”

“It was easier than I thought it would be. Turns out telling someone to get out of your apartment after letting out about eight years of pent up frustration really is the most vindicating thing a girl can do,” You murmur with a soft laugh, “I think I’m just upset with myself that it took this long. That it took hurting you, the last person I’d ever want to hurt, to realize.”

Jungkook rubs your thumb gently, sending gentle ripples over your skin.

“I’m sorry I disrespected you like that,” Jungkook says, sincerity forming dotted diamonds in his eyes, “God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I’m sorry I disrespected you, too. By ignoring all of the red flags, I let her get away with so much. I let her get away with her saying so much shit about you.”

There’s a comfortable pause between you both.

“I think we need to take time for ourselves,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes uncertain but earnest, “Before we start anything-”

“And who said I wanted to start anything with you,” You tease, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, “I agree… Maybe no more pet names, huh?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks in amusement.

“To break up, we’d have to be together to begin with,” You say softly. Despite his own words, his own insistence that he knows you both have some feelings to work through before starting anything romantic without lingering feelings of resentment… Jungkook just wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you, steal your breath, feel your hips in his hands. You look so pretty under the sunlight, the rays brushing over your hair warmly and casting a faint halo over your head.

He drinks you in with his eyes, not allowing a single inch of you to pass him. It’s only been two weeks, but he looks at you as if it’s been so much longer since he’s seen you.

You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions around him, and this time is no different. You look like you want to eat him alive, your eyes hooded and palms hot against his. Something in you wants him, wants him to hold you close, feel his hands over any and every inch of you that he can reach.

You want him to paint you with his hands, maybe share some of that sparkle that he seems to be made of.

Your eyes linger, a soft sigh escaping your lips without realizing it. Jungkook resists a smirk, keeping his observations to himself. He catches your gaze burning through his balmy skin, on his arms, his chest, his neck…

It’s too bad. It really is.

Memories of your night together flash behind your eyelids, the way you seemed to fit just perfectly on top of his strong thighs, the way his big hands felt ghosting over you.

You force your eyes away and touch your lips subconsciously, blinking away the ghost of his kiss. Pulling your hands away from him, you offer him a contrite smile.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook,” You murmur, standing up from the blanket. His first instinct is to help you up, but he remembers, he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Jungkook’s dimples are the last thing you see when you turn your back and head to your car. You try your best not to look back at him, despite every neuron in your brain screaming at you to.

----

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse

[sodomitecastiel]

Do you have any recommended spn fics? To be restored is consuming all of my non fenario brainspace

This is in no way an exhaustive list - @jewishcharliebradbury is the one to go for that - but these are some favorites of mine, please always heed their tags just in case!

Putting it under a readmore because I'm a wordy bastard:

Sky Verse by starandrea: Angelic civil war! The crispest, most in-character dialogue! Vast, sprawling worldbuilding! Dean and Cas get together and are very bad at it for a long time! This series obsesses me the way other people are obsessed with dta (which I have not read for fear of commitment but fully intend to eventually).

To Be Restored by serenetyfails: You mentioned this one already but it's worth repeating - it's my favorite trans spn fic that I didn't write myself. Cas's transmasc identity is handled so carefully and so competently, Dean flips out in a way that's both in character and still kind to him, and Sam and Rowena are wonderfully fleshed out. I think many people would look at the premise and worry it's either misogynistic or fetishy, but it's neither, it's such a love letter to Cas's well-earned masculinity. Also, I'm obsessed with Rowena knowing and being buddies with a lot of trans women witches :)

Talk Therapy by shara: This is one of my favorite 'Dean is bad at asking for things' fics, it deals with his inability to want things past what he can give to others really well. I also appreciate that not everything in their relationship is fixed just because they're together, although the amount they love each other is always obvious.

Epilogue by JayneL: A weird little time travel story that is NOT a fixit for endverse, but is exceptionally kind to endverse Cas anyway. It aches very badly. I remember it being pretty trippy but also having to sit and look at the ceiling a while after reading it.

The Love Story of the Runner Up by Margo_Kim: Cas dates a normal human man with a good soul for a little while before he gets with Dean. Both of them know it isn't for forever, but they look after each other anyway. Told through the lens of story-swapping between gay friends and written with so much care & love. (You can thank @okologie for finding this one and making me read it despite my reservations.)

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo: Everyone recommends this fic but it's for a reason. Probably the best post-retirement fic there is, and definitely helped me form the neural connections to write Fenario, haha, I can't recommend this one enough. The complicated Dean and Sam issues are held with just as much weight as the Dean and Cas ones, although both are handled gently.

you and me in the war of the end times by stickthelanding (@tallahasseemp3): Alma knocked it out of the park with this one. THEE shotgunning fic. I've reread it more times than I can count, it has the loveliest atmosphere. I want to gnaw on this prose, said with love!

A Drinking Song by Balder12: Endverse snapshot. This one is mostly just bone hurting juice but it's one of my favorite characterizations of them - sometimes I find that endverse stories either make Cas way too soft or fucked up in a way I find goes too far in a direction I don't agree with, this one feels pitch perfect.

Everyone Is Trying to Get to the Bar by Balder12: All time fave angel true form fic!!! It's deliciously weird and fun, definitely a mind-melter. I only read it the once but sometimes I think about it and get a funny little shiver.

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara: This is another 'universal favorite', but also for good reason. Extraordinarily tender, it's my personal favorite Cas-grows-a-garden post canon story, especially because it manages to write a jealousy plotline that doesn't make me want to bite and kill. Dean's voice is exactly right and everything unfurls with this tender inevitability, idk how else to describe it! It also ends on a final image that's so lovely it's seared into my brain.

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx by pantheon_of_discord: Nobody does vignettes like supernatural writers. I love the way the road feels in this one, and how carefully picked each moment is. A string of pearls, this fic.

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know by blinkiesays: Dean and Cas get trapped in the midwest by a curse that doesn't let them leave the state, and they want to break it until they don't. Being trapped gives them an excuse to want to settle down, but the route they take to get there is, of course, circuitous. This one hurts a little because it takes place while Sam is dead, but it isn't gratuitous in its sadness. Sweet and melancholy.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo: FAVE FAVE FAVE FAVE. I push this one at everyone I can. I'm extremely picky about 'Dean's self loathing' fics, mainly because I think it can veer easily into melodrama, but this author weaves Dean's self hatred and his anger together very seamlessly, in a way that feels real to the show. Also, Cas is perfect.

sweeter coming from my hand by perilously: A story that I liked before Nov5 and withstood the test of time!! Dean and Cas get married/soul-bound in order to both remove the Mark of Cain and fix Cas's grace. Features a formative scene for me where Cas expresses worries about if he has a soul and Dean raps knuckles on his chest, going, "knock knock, sounds like a soul in there." If you like this one, perilously has many good fics that are just as in character.

On Labor by a_good_soldier: I very nearly couldn't finish this one, but not because it's bad, haha. The premise just makes me want to tear my clothes in mourning - Dean knows Cas is in love with him, after getting him back from the Empty, and decides that he should give him what he wants without realizing that he wants it too. Dean performatively dating Cas while trying to talk himself into liking it (not knowing that he does actually like it) is exactly the kind of convoluted bullshit Dean's internalized homophobia would do to him. Nauseating and spectacular. Sticks in your brain for weeks.

canticles by 2street2car: An excellent 'weird girl best friends' fic. After striking out at the brothel, Dean decides to treat Cas to the "first date experience" himself, since the guy might die the next day. To sum it up succinctly: the rituals are intricate. And dirty dancing is referenced!

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon: As the author states themself, this fic is a love letter to California - it's a road trip casefic that's so rooted in place, the setting is rich and lush and the atmosphere makes me ache, and not just because it's set in my home state! I saved this one for last because this is another prolific author who has many stories I come back to again and again (Sweet Home and Love: A Retrospective are particularly good), they really don't miss. Usually when I read fic, it's a mad dash to the finish, but I took my time with this one. I highly encourage you to do the same :)

[bruhlsbees]

second chance ; 1/5 || writer!daniel x fem!artist!reader

(gif credit to @/magsam)

summary: you continue to dwell on your past as you prepare to open your art gallery

warnings: daniel's boss is a little creepy - like flirty but in power creepy, idk how to tag that, nothing bad happens she just obvi wants in his pants (but don't we all), 18+ although no smut

word count: 6,637

pairing: writer!daniel x fem!artist!reader

a/n: here's my soft fic!! please enjoy!! :) also i should note that writer!daniel is based around sebastian from ich und kaminski - i just changed the name to daniel, but really only loosely based so that's why i'm not considering this to be a sebastian fic!

He woke to the lull sound of music being played in the shop below his flat. With a groan, he pulled his head from under the pillow, squinting at the sun that peeked through his curtains before turning towards the clock on his nightstand.

12:17 PM

Another groan left him as his face fell back into the pillows. He had to be at work by one and he wasn’t even out of bed - and he should be on the road leaving in thirteen minutes! This, however, was not uncommon for Daniel - he was often late, running behind from sleeping off his hangover or just simply not caring enough to pick up his feet and move quicker.

He was half tempted to call off, tell his boss that he had a relative that passed or that he was ill.

“I thought your great-aunt just recently passed away?” Daniel’s boss questioned over the phone, her tone more annoyed than confused. He could hear the restaurant clatter through the phone, indicating that it was a rather busy day.

“Yes, that was on my mother’s side, this one is on my father’s,” He picked up a pair of socks off the ground to see if they were clean or at least passed the smell check. “Tragic, I’m not sure what I’m going to do without them.”

He sniffed the socks and threw them away from his face in the same motion, holding back the cough as he shook the smell out of his nose. Daniel knew he had been putting off laundry for too long, the clear evidence being the pair of socks he mistakenly picked up.

Moving to the bathroom to take a shower and get around for the day. Daniel kept his cellphone pressed to his ear, held by the crook of his shoulder while he waited to hear what his boss would say to him.

“Fine,” She finally responded after a moment. Her tone was short, biting like a sting, “But I expect you back on your next shift. We can’t afford to keep losing waiters.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Opening up the medicine cabinet he grabbed his deodorant stick, swiping it a few times under each armpit before feeling satisfied enough to move on, “I’ll be there.”

When he heard the click he swiftly let his phone drop from his shoulder, catching it with his hand before setting it on the top of the toilet next to his sink, continuing to get ready for the day. Even though he wasn’t going into work today, he could still at least get ready instead of basking away in his own stench from the previous night.

Finally pushing himself out of bed after laying for another few minutes, Daniel rummaged through the clothes on the floor, finding the cleanest uniform out of the dirty clothes before tossing them on his bed, moving to the bathroom to get ready. When he got to the bathroom, he nearly cringed at the sight of him.

It was quite obvious that he had a long night, the dark circles around his eyes screamed that he didn’t sleep well and his hair was matted to his head. He couldn’t remember who he had over, or what her name even started with. Was it an s? Sienna? Sierra? Sally? Who fucking cares.

He did a half-assed job brushing his teeth, more so focused on just getting the taste of whiskey out of his mouth so that nobody assumed he was drunk on the job. He already got let go from another job for that.

After the taste was most of the way out, Daniel quickly rinsed his face off and pulled his hair back into a low bun. He didn’t look bad - but it was clear that he had a rough night.

Surprisingly he was out of the door sooner than he imagined. Ascending down the stairs, he made sure to have his steps extra heavy to piss the store owners under him off. A smirk was present on Daniel’s face when he jumped one by one down the final few steps, hearing the store owner yell for him to ‘bugger off’ from inside.

“Kiss my ass.” Daniel mumbled, pushing the door open before making his way onto the sidewalk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighter, sparking the stick as he made his way down the road to work.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Everything felt so off, yet so right. Something was missing, but you couldn’t pin what it was just yet. The gallery exceeded your expectations - Vee exceeded your expectations, she always seemed to go above and beyond when it came to your work.

“And how does she like it? Do we get her seal of approval?” The museum’s art curator questioned, standing off to the side so that you and Vee could take it all in.

He was a short man, the rectangle frames glasses that were a bright orange that matched with his orange suit. You wondered if perhaps the glasses were real, or were they fake and more of a fashion statement? Did he have a matching pair of glasses for each outfit?

You didn’t realize how out of it you were until you felt Vee nudge you, answering for the curator.

“She loves it, do forgive her, she’s just taken back is all.” Vee explained, smiling towards the curator as he nodded, relief washing over him as he continued to showcase the room in the museum that was dedicated to your work.

You let out a sigh and trailed behind Vee. You felt bad for not being so animated, but you couldn’t help it - you just weren’t in the best mental spot right now. It was quite obvious too, at least to everyone around you. When the three of you reached the back of the gallery, the curator turned and pulled his lips into a tight smile.

“Well, if there is anything else we can do before your opening, please, let us know,” He turned to Vee and bowed her way in goodbye, “You have my number, just call if there is anything.” He turned on his heels and made his way out of the room, his footsteps echoing until he left and then...nothing.

You let out a soft exhale and sat down on the bench that was placed in front of the back wall, staring up at a few of your paintings. Your shoulders were slacked, a frown on your face as you toyed with your bracelet that was on your left wrist, twirling the string around your fingers. Moving around the bench, Vee took a seat beside you, letting her purse fall to the ground at her feet, looking up at your pieces.

“If this isn’t something you want to do anymore, I can let him know,” She began, your head shooting up, looking at her with wide eyes, “He won’t be pleased, but I suppose it’d be better to hear from me than you.” She stated, eyes flickering from one painting to the next.

You shook your head, shocked that Vee would even suggest canceling the opening. What made her think that? Did she think you didn’t want this anymore? No, of course you wanted this, this was something you’ve dreamt about since you were a little girl.

“What are you saying, Vee? Of course I want this still, you’ve worked so hard and did such a wonderful job with this, I wouldn’t want to have all your hard work go to waste.” You explained, looking towards her now. She smiled, staring at the painting off to her right before turning her head the other way towards you.

“My dear, this isn’t about me. This is about you. My job is to get you where you need to be and make your dreams come true. I won’t be upset if you change your mind. We can wait to open your gallery, wait until next year or this winter perhaps. Whatever you wan-”

“I want this. I just-” You let out a sigh and dropped your head again, looking at your feet for a moment before back up at the wall, tears in your eyes, “I just thought it would be different, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Vee questioned, her left hand resting on your back, her right on your hands, squeezing them. You didn’t know how to put it into words, and that was the issue. You didn’t know why you felt the way you did, or where it came from. The room wasn’t empty, yet at the same time, something was missing.

“I just, something is missing...and I can’t figure out what it is,” You began, standing up from your spot on the bench and circling it, looking now from the back towards the front of the gallery. “When I come into this room, I want to love it, I do love it, but something just isn’t right about all of it. It feels incomplete, but what is missing?”

Nodding slowly, Vee let out a sigh and stood up, picking her purse from the floor and swinging it over her before walking over to you, standing beside you as she joined you in staring at the work you’ve created in the room.

“You want to know what I see in this room? A young, talented woman who has spent the last fifteen years making something of herself,” She began, her voice quiet, like a grandmother’s gentle tone. “A woman who went from nothing to having a large home, a gallery space, yet at the same time, a woman who doesn’t feel complete because she is still living in past regret.”

You glanced away from her at the last part of her speech. It wasn’t that you were hiding your tears from her, but she was right, and you were a fool to still be living in the past.

When she continued, your head faltered back to its original position, looking straight ahead. This was supposed to be your day, yours, and yet even after everything, Daniel was still the one on your mind...the one who still controlled your emotions and work.

“I don’t mean to be brash, dear, but if he wanted to make an appearance in your life, he would have done it by now. It’s time you put that past away and look towards the future,” Wrapping her arms around you, Vee pulled you close, extending her left hand out to motion around the room, “Think of all that you’ve done without him. Is he truly the one you wish to have by your side when you open your gallery? The one who didn’t want this for you in the first place?”

By this point you were crying, silently weeping in Vee’s arm as she gave you a hard reality check. It was true, all of it, why were you still hung up on him? For all you knew he had moved on himself - living with a pretty wife and a couple kids with a backyard and porch. You made it this far without him, and damn did you do a good job, so why were you still holding out on the chance that he would show up? Were you still that much in love with him?

“Sweet girl, it’s time to move on from him. He’s caused you enough pain. Look at how much you’ve done, truly, look around,” You opened your eyes and looked around the room, smiling weakly at all your work, “Never have I worked with someone as talented as you. The past five years have been a pleasure and I just want you to be proud of what you’ve done.”

“I am,” You whispered, looking at Vee now. You knew there were tears running down your cheeks as you could feel them, dripping from your jaw and onto your shirt. You sniffled and wiped your cheeks dry before letting out a sigh, “You’re right. I need to stop letting him ruin my day. This gallery, it’s beautiful! I should go and tell the curator he’s done an excellent job. I’m sure he thinks by now I’m either stuck up or a bitch...probably both!”

You laughed with Vee, leaning in as she kissed your temple before patting your back once, “I don’t think you should worry too much about that. I’m sure he’s probably dealt with worse drama queens,” She began to lead you out of the gallery, her arm still wrapped around you, “Come on, how about we go get a pastry and head home, yes?”

Nodding, you kept your own arm wrapped around her, following her out of the museum and to your lift that you had taken that day. The city was beautiful, but you were ready to retire back to the countryside where your home was.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

He had made it into work exactly four minutes late, and his boss was at the door waiting for him with a scowl on her face. She was a mean bitch, Teresa, his boss - thin and blonde, always a stern look on her face like she ate something bad. She was his height, which only made arguments worse. Teresa liked to find your weakness and make that her target.

Daniel was rather confident, not taking much heat and just letting it roll off his back, but he was shorter, average, but still short. Standing at only five feet nine inches, Daniel knew quite a few women who were his height, if not taller. So when it came to him and Teresa yelling in the kitchen at the restaurant, she always seemed to find a way to stand herself up to seem taller than he was, making her both look and feel like the alpha.

Tucking the fallen pieces behind his ears, Daniel sighed and went to grab an apron that was hanging up beside the time clock where Teresa was standing.

“Sorry, traffic was busy.” He stated, going to punch in his work number. Before he could, Teresa stepped to the side in front of it, hands on her hips as she blocked him from clocking in. He took a quick step back before running into her, eyes furrowed together. “Um, is there something-”

“You’re late,” She pointed out, as if he didn’t already know. She moved her hands from her hips and to cross over her chest, her breasts pressing together causing Daniel to swallow, eyes looking ahead of him at the time clock. “If we weren’t so desperate for staff, you’d be out of here.”

It took everything for Daniel to not roll his eyes at the comment, shuffling in his spot as he became fidgety, wanting to get away from Teresa and go to work. This wasn’t the first time she had cornered him before - taunting him with her breasts and charm, making him sweat through his uniform.

No, of course he didn’t think she was hot - well, maybe, but she was a bitch. A stone cold bitch who wouldn’t be getting anywhere near his pants. That promise he would keep. He’s had his fair share of questionable hookups, but Teresa the Tyrant would not be one of them, no matter how hard she tried.

“Are you sure it's we and not you?” He toyed, his eyes flicking over towards her. He held back his smirk when her arms fell, mouth gaping before she glared and moved out of the way.

“Get to work,” She ordered, moving out of the way and into the office that was beside the timeclock, in the back of the kitchen. “And I’m docking this!”

“And I’m docking this!” Daniel mimicked, making a face as he mumbled to himself, punching into work and grabbing an apron, wrapping it around him before heading through the kitchen and to the main seating area to start waiting on his section.

The two other waitresses, Kali and Lana, were already working, moving tables around for what looked to be a big party coming in. The restaurant Daniel worked at was rather nice, more formal than most around town, so most people came to the restaurant if they were looking for something special. The host, Will, at the front sighing in relief at the sight of Daniel walking in.

“Finally! Thank God you’re here!” Will began, handing Daniel his things frantically, “We got a huge party coming in. Teresa just sprung it on us when we opened,” Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed, stuffing the pens and orderbook in his pocket, trying to keep up with Will, “Whole party booked the restaurant. It’s just us four tonight. Party is almost reaching forty-”

“Forty? Forty people? And four waiters? What the hell was Teresa thinking?” Part of Daniel wished he had called in, but the four of them were a good team, he couldn’t bail on them. Tucking his hair behind his ears as it fell in his face, he sighed and shook his head, “What do I need to do before they get here?”

Will seemed to relax a bit when Daniel offered to help, wrapping the last bit of silverware before handing the basket to Daniel, “Set the tables. They’re sitting at four tables, ten each. We each get a table and their food is being cooked now so hopefully everything goes smoothly.”

Nodding, Daniel took the silverware, shifting the basket to sit on his hip before moving to the tables, “Yeah, hopefully.”

It didn’t take long to get ready, most of the work already being done before Daniel had clocked in. After the tables were set up and the four of them did some last minute cleaning, the guests soon began to come in, sitting in their assigned spots - the restaurant growing loud quickly.

As the oldest waiter, and the one with the most experience, Daniel didn’t stress too much about his table, focusing on Kali and Will who were the youngest of them, only in high school. He noticed Kali was especially having a hard time balancing all the food on the tray, wobbling as she went to sit it down to begin passing them out. He knew this night couldn’t get any worse, but Hell, Teresa really did throw them a curveball.

When Daniel was refilling glasses, he couldn’t help but grow curious, what was this all about? What were so many fancy rich pricks doing here?

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion?” Daniel asked, doing his best to sound charming rather than nosey. He smiled down at the group at the end of the table he was at, watching as they paused from their conversations to turn to Daniel.

The one man, who turned his nose at the sight of Daniel, scoffed and adjusted his posture in his seat, “Oh you don’t know? Well, if you must know, we’re a group of art collectors,” He pulled out the flyer from his suit pocket and handed it to Daniel, who took it and began unfolding it as he continued, “There’s a new art gallery opening. We plan on going and potentially buying some of her pieces.”

Nodding, Daniel continued to listen until they began to ramble about rich people things that rich people talked about. Reading over the flyer, he recognized the art museum. It was a rather posh one, one that had famous art pieces that people would travel from all over to see. This artist must have been a rather big deal to be having a pop-up in the art museum.

It was the style of art he recognized first. He had seen it before. Where he couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew he had seen the art before. Reading over the name didn’t help either - Cassie Kane?

“Cassie Kane? Like Citizen Kane? What is that, some sort of pen name?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the name, finding it to be ridiculous. He was a writer - well, aspiring writer. He always found pen names to be rather odd, not something he was ever a fan of.

The table laughed at his joke, but Daniel knew that it wasn’t what he said that was funny, but him in general. Rich people always liked to laugh at the waiters, finding whatever came out of their mouth to be funny - as if they were their dancing monkeys.

“You’ve seriously never heard of her? Come now, she’s one of the most aspiring artists right now! It’s not everyday you see someone so young and talented open up a gallery of their own work, let alone in such a famous museum!” This time it was the woman beside the man who spoke, baffled at Daniel’s lack of knowledge in the so-called ‘Cassie Kane’.

“Forgive me, I’m a writer, not much of an artist.” He explained, pulling his lips into a thin smile. His patience was growing weak with these upper-class snobs and his feet were sore. All he wanted to do was go home, smoke a few cigarettes, have some drinks, and pass out on his couch.

“Well, nobody knows much about her. Like I said, she’s young. From what I hear though, she lives in a manor that was passed down to her by a great-aunt or something. I believe she took care of her before her death and her aunt gave her the house,” Another woman said, sipping her champagne before continuing, “A single woman, all alone in that big house. No wonder she has all those paintings, poor girl probably has nothing better to do.”

They erupted into laughs at the woman’s comment, the woman’s own laugh sounding far too similar to a donkey for Daniel to keep his composure, sipping their drinks and continuing on with other conversations.

Before Daniel could finally escape though, giving up all interests on even trying to talk with his table - the original man quickly reached out to Daniel as he turned to leave, pulling at his apron to gain his attention.

“You asked her name, yes well, she’s actually from here. That’s why we’ve stopped by. We wanted to get a look around her hometown before travelling to see what inspired her pieces. Here! I have a photo actually.” The man dug his photo out of his pocket and unlocked it, searching on Google for the artist before pulling up a picture, handing his phone to Daniel who took it, holding it in front of him.

“She’s the one on the far left,” He explained, “In the red.”

Scanning through the line of people, Daniel nearly dropped the man’s phone when he finally reached the artist. He knew he had seen the art from somewhere, and who left town to become an artist? He should have known - it was the only person who he could have thought of. You, you were Cassie Kane.

“You must have known her? She’s about your age! Did you go to school with her?”

The questions became far too much for Daniel, who all but cowered back, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them, “Um, no, sorry, I don’t,” He lied, clearing his throat, “Must have been in different classes than me.”

“Well she’s opening up the invitations to everyone in town. Free admission if you show that you live in town. Perhaps you should go - check the gallery out for yourself and broaden your horizons a bit. Whole town is rather dense from what I’ve seen. No wonder she’s letting you all come for free.”

And after three painfully long hours of listening to the rich snobs joke and whine and bicker, Daniel finally had enough. With a smile, Daniel let out a mocking laugh, pathetically sounding like a snob before his face fell, his table - and the others as well, falling to silence.

“If I wanted to broaden my horizons, I’d go to the zoo, at least there I can enjoy what I’m looking like,” He turned to the woman who had originally spoken up after the man - who’s laugh sounded far too much like a donkey, smiling wickedly down at her, “That reminds me, I heard they’re opening a petting zoo in town - maybe you can go and say hi to the rest of your cousins for me. What exactly do donkeys eat by the way? I’m curious to know.”

He let out a whine line a donkey, mocking the woman before leaning over the table and reaching for the champagne bottle in the ice bucket, pulling the cork off with his teeth and spitting it back out down the table. At this point the whole room was silent, watching as Daniel finally cracked.

When he noticed everyone was staring, after drinking a healthy amount from the bottle, he let out a sigh and let the champagne run down his beard and onto the front of his shirt, hiccuping.

And without another word he made his way lazily from the dining room and through the kitchen, sipping on the bottle until he made it to the back of the kitchen, pushing open Teresa’s door and tossing his apron at things at her, watching as they bounced off her and onto the floor.

“What the he-”

“I quit,” Daniel said, cutting her off. When she looked at him confused, and of course pissed like always, he could only smile and brave it, “I quit. Don’t bother docking me because I’m not coming back. Better yet, don’t even bother paying me today,” He looked down at the champagne bottle and waved it at her, “Consider this my tip.”

And before she could get another word out, he turned and headed out of her office, smirking to himself as he listened to her scream for him to get back as he left the restaurant, heading through the filled parking lot, and back to his apartment.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After dinner that night, alone in your study like most, you attempted to work on your laptop, going through emails in hopes of maybe finding something that was worth your wild. To your avail, however, nothing jumped out at you.

It was all the same - the coupons from the candle store you liked, the newspaper from your hometown you still followed, and the countless number of spam emails that seemed to always flood your inbox.

Slamming your laptop shut, you let out a huff and fell back into your seat, looking around your office. Your hands found your face and you ran them up and down, groaning before letting your body go slack, arms draped over the arm rests as you twisted side to side in your chair.

For such a busy woman, life often felt lonely to you. Living in your great-aunt’s old manor didn’t help either. The ghosts of those who lived before you seemed to be the only friends you had.

That, and the animals you had out back.

Pushing yourself up from your chair, you made your way out of the office and down the hall, going down the grand staircase. Your slippers scuffed across the floor as you made your way through the hall and into the breakfast nook, opening the door that led outside into the backyard. You had quite a few animals - the acres in your backyard reserved strictly for the farm animals that your great-aunt had before she passed.

Vee suggested that you send them off to someone else, seeing as though you were a busy woman who didn’t need the extra stress of animals. But you couldn’t do that to them, this was their home, more of their home than your own. You made it work, getting up early to feed them and take care of them before work that day and then spending evenings, like tonight, with them.

Opening the gate that secured the perimeter for them, so they wouldn’t wander outside of their area and onto the road to get hit, making your way into the fenced area. Most of the animals were already tucked away for bed, the occasional moo from one of the cows echoing across the hills. You didn’t mind though, sometimes coming in was more for you than it was for them. It helped get your mind off things.

Sitting on the stool you kept out for milking the cows, you rested your elbows on your knees, your chin on your hands. You knew it was rather ridiculous to be sulking so much - being such a successful aspiring artist with a manor and so much that many didn’t - but what nobody seemed to realize was how lonely you were. God, did you know it - you reminded yourself everyday.

But it wasn’t that you were appreciative of all that you had, no, you were more than thankful - but everyone had their one wish in life, and yours - still to this day even after everything, was that by some miracle Daniel would come back, that he would show up at your door on his hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness.

Vee reminded you daily that your dream wasn’t good for you.

“If he loved you as much as you like to say he did...why isn’t he here now? Why has he been gone for the last decade and a half? That doesn’t seem like the man who deserves you, let alone crying over.”

She was right though - he wasn’t worth your time of day.

Letting out a sigh, you wiped away the stray tears before the ‘baah’ from one of the goats made you jump, turning back to see one of the babies prancing your way, a smile growing on your face. It was late, and the mischievous goat should have been sleeping.

“And what are you doing up?” You scolded playfully, much like a mother would to their own child. You watched the baby goat sprint at you the last few feet, butting it’s head into your leg before pawing at the ground to get your attention, wanting to be lifted.

“Oh come here,” Bending down, you lifted up the baby goat and held them in your arms, watching as they got comfortable before tucking their head in the crook of your arm. “Which one are you, hmm?”

Twisting the collar your way, you looked at the name tag and smiled.

“Marlene, hello there sweet girl. What are you still doing awake? I believe it’s past your bedtime.” You heard the muffled ‘baah’ from under your arm and stroked her back, keeping her held in your arms while you enjoyed the moment.

Rocking her gently, you listened as she soon lulled into a sleep, your own head bobbing slightly as you grew tired yourself. Leaning back against the fence pole, you let out a yawn, adjusting so the wood wasn’t digging directly into your spine before your petting slowed.

“Just a minute...I’ll put you up in just a minute.” You whispered, your head falling back as you entered your sudden slumber.

Although your minute became minutes, then hours, until you woke to the erupting sounds of all the animals around you, growing impatient for breakfast. Groaning, you sat up, your back painfully stiff as you cracked your eyes open, looking around to see the animals eyeing you, running rampant as they waited for their food.

“Shit!” You hissed, standing up, stumbling as you lost balance before rushing around to get everyone fed for the day. God, did you really fall asleep out here? How tired were you? You must have been rather tired, seeing as though you slept on a stool propped against the fence post all night.

Thankfully though it didn’t take long, doing your regular morning chores until you were finally able to head back inside, or rather trudging back inside. Your body was painfully sore and while you slept a while, it was a rather shit sleep.

When you made it through the breakfast nook, into the hallway to go back into your room, you stopped at the sight of Vee who was coming down the stairs, looking for you.

“There you are! I looked everywhere for you, did you forget that we were supposed to meet with some of the other museum directors tod-” She paused, nose turning and she sniffled the air, “What is that smell?”

“Me, probably,” You stated, watching as Vee looked at you confused, before you motioned behind you, “I fell asleep out back last night...just woke up actually. I’m sorry, I’ll go get ready an-”

But before you could leave and go get ready for the day, Vee held out her hand, stopping you before pulling out her phone, texting with one hand while you waited patiently, swaying slightly as you still woke up. When you heard the noise from her phone signaling she had sent a text to someone, she lowered her hand and smiled.

“Vee, you didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry I-”

“Please, look at you. Better yet, smell yourself. You reek! Go take a shower and come back down. I’m craving a mimosa. You and I will get breakfast together, think you need a break from all the museum directors breathing down your neck.”

You could only smile, nodding towards Vee before going in for a hug, stopping suddenly when she took a step back. “After your shower. I’m not letting you stink me up too.”

Letting out a laugh, you shook your head and made your way up the stairs, throwing your clothes off and into your laundry basket before heading into your bathroom to take a quick shower for the day.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

As much as yesterday was odd for Daniel, the new day had been even more odd. He wasn’t expecting much - maybe a phone call from his boss about his outburst yesterday - in fact, Daniel might have rather had that, then what he had been going through all morning.

“So let me get this straight...you want me to take your grandfather to the art gallery? I don’t see why you can’t just do it, Will.” Daniel explained, standing near his t.v. stand while Will, the kid from the restaurant, sat on his couch beside his grandfather, and Kali, the other girl from the restaurant, sat on his other side.

It would take a bigger idiot than Daniel to believe the mask he was wearing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give the man a ride and earn a few extra bucks, given how he was now out of a job, he just wasn’t ready to face you again.

“I got school. Remember? I’m only in high school still. Kali can’t cause she doesn’t have her license yet,” Will explained, shrugging his shoulders before motioning to his grandfather, who looked to be falling asleep, “Besides...he wants to go see an old student - that old student just so happens to be the girl you’re still obviously in love with-”

“Hey now, Will, I appreciate it...but I’m not still in love with her. That’s in the past, and I’ve moved on.” But had he? Had he really moved on?

Frowning, Will nodded and looked down, Kali glancing towards him before standing up, making her way to Daniel. Grabbing onto his arm, Kali smiled weakly at Daniel.

“Maybe if you don’t wanna go and see her, just go to appreciate the art? Who knows, maybe there will be a story there worth writing about? This could be your big break!” Kali suggested, trying to convince Daniel in any way she could to go. “Besides...you’re out of a job now, what exactly are you doing that’s keeping you from going?”

Opening his mouth, Daniel went to say something before realizing what the kids were doing - they were trying to help him out, cause after all...teenagers seemed to know more than he did.

Kali was right, even if he went and didn’t run into you, there could be a potential story there, something he could write about. That, and Daniel did always get along well with his high school art teacher, so maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad? It’d be good for him to get out of town.

Sighing, Daniel looked at Kali one last time before back at Will, then his grandfather who was now snoring on his couch, “Fine...I’ll take him. But if you guys are trying to set something up, you’re wasting your time. That’s in the past-”

He was surprised to feel the sets of arms wrap around him in a hug. Laughing lightly, Daniel awkwardly patted Kali and Will’s back. “Guys...come on now, you offer a bum cash and it’s going to take a lot for him to refuse.”

Feeling Kali pinch his side, Daniel jumped back, yelping before watching the two laugh now, Will’s grandfather now waking up and looking around, as if he were trying to figure out where he was at. Okay, so maybe taking care of him wouldn’t be all that fun, but it couldn’t be all that bad? Right?

“So, when do we leave?” Daniel asked, watching Will and Kali help his grandfather up before making their way to the door.

“Tomorrow morning. If you leave at six, you’ll get there by four - give or take traffic - we already have your room booked so you just have to check in once you get there.” Will explained, opening the front door to begin heading down the steps and outside.

Following the trio, Daniel helped in any way he could with getting the old man down the steps, making sure he didn’t slip and fall. When they finally got outside and loaded him into the passenger seat of the car, Daniel took a step back, eyes furrowed.

“Wait...six in the morning? Jesus...I haven’t got up that early since-”

“Since the Christmas banquet breakfast that you were late for, yes, we know,” Kali stated, shutting the passenger door before turning to look back up at Daniel, “Just...wake up on time. Will and I will be over here just about that time on our way to school. So just be ready, okay?”

Nodding, Daniel let out a huff and pushed his hair back, “Yeah, yeah, I can do that...you know I’m the adult here, right? You guys really like to boss me around, huh?” When he felt Kali hug him again, he could only soften, hugging her back. “I’ll be up, just - don’t expect a whole lot out of me on this. I’m getting him there and back, that’s it.”

“Totally, and if you so happen to fall back in love with the girl you can’t seem to get over, then that’s all the better.” Will noted, helping Kali in the backseat before getting in the car himself.

Shaking his head, Daniel made his way to the left side of the car, looking at Will and Kali, “Hey, how did you guys even find out about her? I mean...I’ve never brought her up before.”

“Well after yesterday’s incident, Kali and I looked her up and found some old photos of you guys from high school. I knew you went to our school so I asked my grandfather about you guys and, well, he told us the rest. It was Kali who suggested you go.” Will explained, motioning to the backseat towards Kali who was grinning.

Kali was a sweet girl, who was maybe a little too obsessed with love stories - but Daniel couldn’t deny their obvious findings. Especially after yesterday, they were right to assume some pushed down feelings of his.

Daniel could only hope that if he got the courage, he’d be able to tell you how he felt, how sorry he was after all these years. But after all these years, would you even want to hear what he had to say?

[thosewickedlovelies]

An Ode To Marcus Moreno’s Arms

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x GN!Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: You’re a training specialist in swordsmanship at Heroics Headquarters, so you see a lot of Marcus Moreno.

Tags: Reader has a vivid (sexual) imagination, but there’s only a few brief sections.

Word Count: 2,272

A/N: This started out as an ode to his arms, but his arms are connected to the rest of him, so. Alternative title: In Appreciation of Marcus Moreno

My assumption/headcanon of his powers are telekinesis, plus general exceptional physical prowess and weapons skills? Idk, we weren’t given much, but those feel like solid abilities for someone implied to be the super among super heroes. Idk what this is but I regret nothing.

More content/worldbuilding set in this universe 💗

--

Marcus Moreno’s arms were capable of many things.

You knew this because you saw them on an almost-daily basis. You were one of the training specialists at Heroics Headquarters, one of a large, ever-expanding staff of instructors who were experts in their respective fields of combat or weapons. Your job, essentially, was to be a superhero minus the powers- and use your abilities to keep the Heroics in top form.

Your expertise was swordsmanship, which meant you spent more time with Marcus than any of the other heroes. All of the physical trainers and specialists sparred with the Heroics in mock villain showdowns, but you also helped them hone specific skills. You were here because your skillset and abilities matched Marcus’s.

So you’ve had plenty of opportunity to behold his arms at work.

One would think that they’d be most enticing mid-action, but it was a cosmically ironic fact that there was never really a wrong moment to ogle. How that man could make merely unsheathing his swords so erotic was beyond you.

But by now you’d seen it from every angle. You were as familiar with Marcus’s technique as you were with your own, and knew well the cycle of muscle contractions which rippled up his whole body. It started with his legs: setting his stance, primed and poised on the balls of his feet. Then every muscle in his torso, his clinging t-shirts sliding over taut flesh as they rode up with the lifting of his arms- his arms. Biceps suddenly incredibly present and visibly straining past barely-existent sleeves, tendons flexing rigid and obvious, a tangle of pathways you wanted to map with your tongue.

This show was best when he had started his day with tactical theory sessions, because then his expressive face got involved. Oh yes, it wasn’t enough for him just to be built the way he was, his face had to go and be attractive as well.

Tedious strategy debates with Miracle Guy during these sessions never failed to get under his skin- you could always tell how much steam Marcus had to let off based on the clench of his jaw. Or the way he’d drag his bottom lip over his teeth, nostrils flaring in an almost-snarl. When that happened you knew he gripped the hilts of his swords a little tighter, because you’d see the ridges in his wrist dip and pull like piano strings perpendicular to the line of his gloves. The blades would sing little sharper on those days, his arms freeing them in a jerk rather than their usual smooth, deliberate slide.

It was amazing you ever made it beyond unsheathing your weapons.

But oh, were you glad you did, because watching Marcus Moreno fight was truly a treat. The control he had over his body was remarkable; even when his limbs flung and stretched, they were to ready to contract again at a second’s notice. “Fight” was really too limited of a term for it- Marcus manipulated his body in an incredible harmony of mind and muscle, using his weapons- including his telekinesis- as extensions of himself.

You wondered sometimes how fine his control over his telekinesis was- if he could use it on himself. If he did use it somehow to give his blows that devastating extra speed and strength.

It was easy to understand, after witnessing him, why battle is often described as a dance.

On particularly ruthless training days, his tan skin would gleam with sweat. It would bead and trickle along the pulsing veins in his arms, drawing your attention even more, and salacious scenes would flash behind your eyelids: those same glistening forearms visible in your peripherals as they box you against a wall, that same intent glitter in his dark eyes as they come closer and closer, breathless, his chest heaving into yours-

You never let on to any of this though. You were a master of the blade, and had trained too thoroughly to let the appearance of an opponent get to you. Besides that fact, you would never do anything to risk your place with the Heroics. Although you were an authority figure, they were still superheroes, and thus unlike anyone else you’d worked with- it made for a challenging, stimulating dynamic in which you were constantly both instructor and student.

Even outside of the training arena, Marcus’s arms were a sight.

Holding data pads or writing utensils as he led the Heroics in discussions of group tactics, deftly manipulating characters onscreen or scribbling things on a whiteboard. Sometimes he would go to these sessions straight from physical training, and the cooling sweat on his skin would raise goosebumps all along the smooth flesh.

You observed how gently his arms could move in yet other circumstances.

Training specialists often joined in when the Heroics were given new gadgets to play with. And although these days tended to be slower, they still made you sweat. Watching the caution with which Marcus handled the gear at first, the slow care he reserved for things with which he was still becoming familiar. The precision and that control he always kept- even when his frustration slipped out in the form of snarky remarks, he was always conscious of his movements. As he gained confidence, the surety would return to his motions, his shoulders squaring in quiet triumph- his broad, broad shoulders, which you had imagined far too many times propping up your thighs while his hands and mouth were otherwise engaged between them.

You wondered if Marcus would treat your body like something new he had to master. If his hands would probe and caress with the same thoroughness. If the same wicked delight would steal over his features as he learned how best to coax you toward his desired goals; if his fascinated smirk would change after the thousandth time he had taken you apart.

It didn’t help that these sessions highlighted that he was a kind, competent teacher. His teammates exasperated him sometimes, but Marcus was the first to step in when one of them was struggling. A light touch to rearrange their stance, an encouraging word or smile. If you hadn’t personally felt the power thrumming under his skin, you would have never guessed that such a soft man was capable of his immense abilities.

Occasionally you had to remind yourself not to get all dopey-eyed when he was instructing the kids. If you thought he was patient with the adult Heroics, it was nothing compared to how he interacted with their younger counterparts. Equally firm and joking in turn, he taught them every trick he knew while desperately hoping they would never have to use the knowledge.

Some days were easier for him than others- the times they practiced with weapons could have unexpectedly diverting consequences. Marcus let Guppy hold his katanas, once- she was fully capable with her shark strength, but the vision of the diminutive girl brandishing swords that were taller than she was, her face aglow with a ferocious grin, had all the others in fits.

You swore he was suppressing laughter himself as he carefully took them away from her. His hands, already distracting enough, looked comically vast compared to hers as he delicately maneuvered them to pluck the swords from her grasp. Something about the sight of his thick fingers, resettling themselves around the hilts with reflexive ease, made your mouth dry.

His fingers squeezed other things, too, and it made flames leap low in your belly every time.

Lime wedges, on the rare occasions he indulged in drinks stronger than wine at the Headquarters bar. His friends’s shoulders, in affection and farewell, after relaxing with them at said bar following hard days. You longed to be one of those who Marcus slung an arm around in jest, a laugh shaking his shoulders and sparkling in his eyes. Would his skin be as warm as it was while swinging a weapon? What would his body feel like softened in mirth, instead of vibrating with focus?

You didn’t blame him for his more formal attitude during work hours. His days were busy, and you rarely saw him off the training mats. You had shared a few evenings with him on nights when the bar was quieter, though. He was perfectly friendly, treating you just like anyone else he was getting to know.

Tonight was one of those quieter nights, but you didn’t do more than cast a quick glance at the small group sitting in the corner before slumping to the bar. You were worn out today, and just wanted something strong and solitary before going home.

You sighed into the numbing wash of your drink, your eyes drifting shut. Nobody would bother you this evening; it wasn’t that kind of atmosphere.

Except- the barstool next to yours scraped against the floor.

You inhaled deeply, preparing to politely rip into whatever idiot was assuming you needed company- only to have the words struck off your lips by the apprehensive brown eyes of Marcus Moreno.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry to bother you. You can tell me to march right back to my table if you like, but uh, I just wanted to see if you were all right. After today.”

You could see that he genuinely meant it- he was perched only partially on the barstool, ready to take off again if you said the word. But his gaze was curious, concerned.

You brow furrowed. “After today?” you echoed, too caught off-guard to think of anything else. What could he mean? Nothing special had happened today. He’d disarmed you, sure, but it wasn’t the first time that had occurred in the eight months you’d been working with him.

Marcus shifted uncertainly. “You just seemed...tired. Reflexes slower than usual,” he noted wryly. “And, well. We have matching bags.” He pointed to his face, where dark shadows were visible beneath his eyes. He offered a self-deprecating, tentative smile, conscious that he was treading in new territory.

It takes you a minute to process. In all the time you’ve spent observing his fighting techniques to perfection, you’d never considered that he could have been using those same opportunities to observe you. It provokes a funny feeling in your chest, twisting your breath up in your lungs like tangled ribbon.

“Oh,” you murmur, surprised but unoffended by his mention of the bags under your eyes. “Well...I am tired today, I guess.” You took a sip of your drink, gauging his interest, hesitating before continuing. “My sister broke her hip, so she just moved in with me for while she heals. It’s been...a stressful transition,” you admitted.

He angles himself toward you, attention fully committed and eyes widening in sympathy. “Oh gosh, that’s terrible. Do you need some time off? I can clear it with the boss for you, work with Santino for however long you need.” He seemed to straighten up, as if ready to spring away and take care of it the moment you answered.

“No, please,” you chuckled in appreciation of his earnestness. “I might need a few shorter days, but neither of us need me fussing over her 24/7.” Both you and your sister were strongly independent. It meant that you had often been at odds when you were younger, but you were all each other had now, and had made efforts to improve your relationship.

Marcus nodded in understanding, settling again. He seemed at a loss for if he should leave or say something else, so you made the choice for him.

“Tired of getting your ass kicked in my lessons, Moreno? You know Santino doesn’t work you as hard.” Your fellow swordsmanship instructor was slightly younger, a newer hire who was still a little bit in awe of the Heroics.

You didn’t usually speak so flippantly to him, but his eyebrows arced high at the challenge, a smile tugging on his lips. “Sounds like somebody needs a reminder of who kicked whose ass today, ma’am.” Rolling right along with your apparent newfound playfulness.

You pinpointed, suddenly, what was different about him tonight, why this interaction felt different compared to your others. There’d always been an air of deference about him before, as if even outside of the arena he considered you a superior. But tonight he was just treating you like a peer, a regular person. Maybe it had taken your excessively dragging day for him to come to terms with the fact that you were a regular person, but the ice finally felt like it had broken between you and you just...talked, after that. For longer than both of you probably intended.

“Shoot, I have to go get Missy,” Marcus realized, catching sight of his watch. “But you- you’ll be here again? I mean, I see you here a lot.” He stumbled over his words.

Did he? It was true that you were often at the bar at the same time, but for him to acknowledge that meant that he actually noticed you. Remembered your presence.

“Yeah, I’m here pretty regularly,” you confirmed, cautiously hopeful.

“Good. I mean, I’ll see you, then- next time.” His voice rasped low, but there was a nervousness in his expression. He twisted his jacket between his large hands.

He wanted to see you again. “Yes.” You smiled at him, surprise and pleasure shining through. “I’ll see you next time,” you said with conviction.

His eyes crinkled in answer, and your breath caught. Your ordered yourself not to watch him leave the room.

You drove home with a quiet grin on your face.

[neonponders]

Thank you for tagging me, @lovebillyhargrove !! And for giving us a new head canon game ~~~

This got long, so I’ll put it below the cut, but I’ll tag you back 💋 🌹

1. Do they get together BEFORE MF possessing Billy or AFTER shit goes down? (Or maybe DURING😲)

I’m available for all of these scenarios haha but I’ve never seen a fic/let where they get together DURING Billy being flayed 😥. Goodness, Steve would really be his angel, then.

2. Who kisses who first?

Steve makes the moves. That boy has no chill. Plus he is miles ahead of Billy in terms of emotional awareness and maturity, so he’s wearing the pants in the relationship for a while lol

3. Where do they have their first sex? (Location) (HJs and BJs count)

As a former teenager with experience living in a small town *cough*. Their cars. You have to make your own private areas, and your parents’ houses are just. Not. It. lol You park your car in a field, a park, somewhere with a lot of trees or other parked cars, and hope to god that nobody gets curious lol

4. Who says 💖 I LOVE YOU 💖 first?

Billy. Steve’s been burned before, right? He’ll do literally everything else to display how much he cares, but he’ll wait for Billy to lay that card on the table first.

5. I believe this fandom is way past having hard feelings about it, so

Bottom!Steve or Bottom!Billy?

Yes to all. I think they have different needs at different times, and are capable of indulging each other / taking care of one another in both ways.

6. Do they give gifts to each other?

I’m always available for a lot of gift giving (sugar boo tropes, eat my ass out). Both of them are so emotionally stunted that I just want them both showered in affection and Stuff™

7. Where do they end up living? California, Chicago, Hawkins... Idk .. Alaska??)))) Any other location?

I see Billy being very attached to California, and both of them being very scarred by Hawkins, but I don’t necessarily think they’d end up in California. Maybe a new part of California, in between sunny southside for Billy, and the foresty north for Steve. I do always write about them living in Chicago/New York, though haha I think the city is a fun reset for both of them.

8. What are their future jobs?

Outside of a mobster lol, I tend to write Billy as a chiropractor / physical therapist. (I want to live vicariously through Steve as his husband cracks his bones like a stale pretzel). I’ve given Steve a lot of different jobs but art therapist for kids is my favorite.

9. Who's a better cook?

They both cook but make different things. The more fire involved, it’s Billy (grilling, southeast Asian cuisine). If it’s breakfast, it’s Steve. Literally any kind of breakfast, whether it’s bacon and eggs, to cheese and broccoli soufflés. Billy does the dangerous cooking and Steve does the tedious cooking.

10. Steve Hargrove or Billy Harrington?

Steven Hargrove or William Harrington. This breaks my brain.

11. What's Max's reaction when she hears they're together?

Depends on whether or not Neil’s in the picture. If he is, then she’s asking Will if he has any more narcotic syringes, because Steve survived Billy enough to be on his way to marrying him, but he won’t survive Neil Hargrove. Hopper will sooner clean up Max’s homicide than put her in prison, though.

If Neil isn’t an issue, she’s fully committed to her sisterly job of being disgusted yet supportive haha

12. Describe in ONE SENTENCE Hopper's reaction when he hears the names Hargrove and Harrington mentioned together? The Q is inspired by this genius post by @freyrapollo (their post is here).

*long, absorbing silence* And then, “Okay, nobody patrol the quarry after 9pm.”

13. Does Robin like Billy OR does Robin hate Billy?

Robin clocks Billy that first moment he walks through the parking lot ignoring literally every straight girl ogling him. I think she mostly feels sorry for him. It’s not easy being queer in Nowhere, Indiana. I think if they managed to interact on an open playing field, they’d get along fine. But in their canon universe, I don’t know. There’s a lot of baggage and layers around Billy; all of his interactions are kind of unfair.

14. What about Dustin?

Robin is fascinated by Dustin. He’s a smaller Steve who is uniquely smarter yet just as clueless lol It’s pretty clear that Dustin helps Steve just be Steve, so yeah: Robin likes him.

15. Fav Harringrove AU?

I’m an omegaverse creep. I’m a slut for mob au’s. Sugar boo au’s. I’m weak for soul mate tropes. s1 Steve and older Billy. I refuse to settle on one.

16. Billy+Camaro=...??? (Not strictly Harringrove, but I can't not to ..)

I want to see him in a Jeep Wrangler lol I think that’d be a good alternate car for him. He’d be one of those No Doors, rag top gone kind of Jeep drivers the moment it’s warm outside.

[slow-button-off]

I was looking through the f1 tag today and there is definitely some added tension between Charles and Carlos blogs and given all that has happened with Ferrari and how they’ve handled the last few races, I feel like the last thing we need is their two fan bases going at each other. I think us chirlies had every to be angry and upset with Ferrari and this win doesn’t mean than they’ve all of a sudden have everything together. And understandably so, some chirlies were mad at Carlos too because it didn’t feel like he was being a team player.

Whereas on the other side, it seems like some Charles blogs were wishing that Carlos would crash, which is completely unacceptable so I understand Carlos fans being upset, as they should be. No driver deserves that ever. But I was also seeing that some blogs feel like how Ferrari celebrated Charles today vs. Carlos last week shows that Charles is their favored by the team which idk if I agree with. It seemed to me like the celebrations were the same besides the spraying the champagne at the team photo (which they didn’t do for Carlos) But some blogs have taken that as an example that Charles is liked more by the team which I think is a bit of a stretch….. Charles has been there longer and does feel a bit more embraced by the team but I don’t think that’s enough to say the team doesn’t care about Carlos. Everyone has an opinion and obviously you are going to defend the driver you like more but I just think some are making the situation worse by making all these assumptions about their relationship.

And lastly I think people need to separate the drivers from the fans. If certain drivers have toxic fans that say and act in a bad way, that doesn’t mean the driver is the same. I saw some blogs saying it’s hard for them to separate Charles from some of his fans and I feel like we need to move past that or else it’s just creating more unnecessary tension. You can hate a fanbase but you shouldn’t hate a driver just because of that in my opinion.

Hiya!

it's been a super tense week between the fan groups!

Imo opinion most of the blame should definitely lie with ferrari the team. At least for me, it made what happened a bit hard to take to hear his comments after. Because even if he doens't mean it that way it made him come across as a bad team player to me. And that's not great for the team.

Ferrari also really did not help to deflect the blame away from Carlos.

Nobody should wish a crash on anyone ever! I think that that is a shit thing to do!

Tbh I didn't pay much attention to how the team celebrated Carlos win I was too angry. But I did see the team picture. I get that people would've liked to see bigger celebrations for Carlos first win. but tbh Ferrari as a whole don't really celebrate wins that massively unless it's a 1-2 or Monza. And even then, yes it was Carlos first win but it included a massive strategy blunder that took a 1-2 away from the team and that sucks for everyone that's involved.

They did also lose a 1-2 today, but reliability is a bit easier to take because shit happens but a strat blunder is a bit more than just shit happening because it would've been easily avoidable.

Like you said, I don't think that the team necessarily prefer Charles but imo they do have a slightly different relationship with him. But I would say that that is hardly surprising because not only has he been there longer he also came through the FDA. He has essentially been with this team for 6 years. They've watched him grow up. He is Ferraris kid vs Carlos who is in just his second year with the team. Charles is much more ingrained into this team. And because they have invested so much into him those returns just have an extra meaning.

And I don't think anyone can be too surprised about that because if you pay attention to how the team has spoken about both of them you see a difference. Charles is who they compare with Gilles and who they say they think will bring them a championship. There are definitely some different expectations there. But considering the length of their relationship and Charles being homegrown I don't think you can fault them.

Yeah, I think there has been a bit too much speculation into relationships. Also from my side. But it's so easy to just let your thoughts run wild when these sort of things happen.

But I firmly believe that everything is fine between the drivers and if there are issues that it's issues between their teams. As in who is behind them. Because there are definitely some politics at play.

Yes, the fans should not reflect on the driver because lbr Charles is definitely a much nicer person than most of us lol. It's just part of fandom to be a bit much. But yeah neither guy is at fault for what his fans say.

I think it's fine to slander a bit but in the end I think it should stay respectful because both of them still risk their life in these cars.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hiii i saw your matchups/cakes and I LOVE THEM. English is not my first language so i am sorry for any wrong spelings and grammar use lol. Can a Get a boy from Hq?????? I am a capricorn, with a lot of fire sign in my chart. ISTP. Tall girl, 175cm. Dark blond hair to under my shoulders, blue eyes. Lean bulid, but mby a little broad shoulders and waist. Enything else is normal ig. I indeed have cheek bones and jawline, a caps face traits a think. Stretch marked on my ass and things. Im just gonna keep my personality short cuz i dont know how to talk about myself. Im Shy and intro and first, then i will open up and become a messy and late-coming person. Im never on time to anything. Once you know me and logical thinking, feisty, dark humor type of funny, sly, stubborn, determind, strong minded, oberetiv and a daredevil. I will do enything for somthing in return. Nobody can hold me back. I am also a Clumsy person, a will let a word og two slip and offend somone, will break or forget somthing. Im always there my friends, help them out with everthing and my door is always open for them. Street smart all the way, i Can talk about enything and give tips and trix on enything. Im not the Life of the party, in a party im either outside or taking care of Ppl or i am sipping for other ppls drinks. I listen to pop/rock but i Can vibe to anything. I also love pasta. And cats, but im allergic): I overthink a lot, tend to bottle up on my emotions and then just let it burst when im alone. I got bullied as a kid, thats why i keep to myself and have Some close friends and then friends i dont trust that much. I like long lasting realtionships and friendships. I wont settle for somthing that i dont belive will work. I just want to feel safe and loved and held, lol. Am i rly ugly cryer btw so i wont look into another persons eyes. I train a lot, do sport shooting, wresle a lot with my friends and dad in a safe way ofc. I love to have a friendly and funny wtesle. I lough a lot. I said i do sport shooting, and i hate it when ppl take it the wrong way and starts to compare it to illegal activity. That my biggest pet peeve, and loud chewers. I LOVE CHEES AND CARD GAMES. Also late night means and snacks. My favorite time is like late at night, after sundown. Late night walks. Laser tag or paint ball is a must, Water and pillow fights AGH my dreams. Also, just to chill in a bathtub👌🏻✨Pfffff Idk what more. I would like a boy form Haikyuu, whos taller than me. Would be up to my randome and mby dangerous ideas, but also calm and relaxing when it fits the mood. Dosent need to know how to comfort a crying person, just like do the basics and ill be fine. THANK YOU SO MUCH😘

@sussebassen

Romantic Matchup

Tendou Satori

How Y’all Met

Ahhhh

Y’all had a class together

And EVERY SINGLE DAY you would show up late

Every. Single. Day

It doesn’t matter if you we’re 5 minutes late, or 15 minutes late

You never showed up on time

This peeked Tendous interest...

So, he asked you about it

You then explained how you never try to be late, it just always happened

Then one day

Satori was walking to class

The bell was going to ring soon so he was trying to hurry

Then he saw you

You were also just trying to get to class ON TIME for once

But you tripped...

And you fell...

And ALL of your papers went everywhere 🥲

You silently cursed to yourself before rushing to pick up your things

And you we’re startled when a certain redhead began to help you

You guys had gathered all of your things before RUNNING to get to class

And you guys were still able to make it on time 😃

The teacher made a remark that maybe you should hang around Tendou more often if it gets you to class on time

Little did he know that you would do just that

Apparently you both had similar interests

So you guys became really good friends

And feeling began to bloom over time

Poor bb was to scared to confess to you tho :(

He didn’t want to scare off one of the only friends he had

Of course he told all of this to Ushijima

And of course Ushijimas LOUD MOUTH

spilled the beans

Unintentionally of course

But still

He just didn’t get the gist that all of this was supposed to be a secret

So one day when he and Tendou were walking together

They saw you

And Ushijima was just like “ah your that person that Tendou likes correct?”

You:😳

Him:🙂

Tendou: 🥲

Tendou then took you aside and properly confessed his feelings

He was 100% sure you were gonna reject him

“I like you too Tendou”

I’m sorry what????

He was SHOCKED

Baffled

Beguiled

But SUPER DUPER HAPPY

he pulled you in for a bone crushing hug

And promised to be the best bf ever

Awww my boy luvs ya

What They Love About You

Ight I’m just gonna say it...

Mans ADORES your stretch marks

He thinks they’re so cool!!!

He often compares you to a tiger because of them

Oof

He LOVES your sense of humor

He also has a darker sense of humor

So you guys mesh very well when it comes to that

Loves that you have the combo of being sly and a daredevil

If there’s one thing satori loves...

It’s pranks

So those traits of yours make pranks so much easier to pull off 😩

He loves how he can talk to you about ANYTHING

He knows that if he’s ever distressed about something he can go to you

So he’s vv grateful for that 🙏

Favorite Things To Do Together

Oh he LOVES to play card games

His favorites is slap Jack

WARNING: he gets REALLY into that game

So he hits HARD

So be prepared...

He 100% swoops you away to stores in the middle of the night

Have you guys been caught sneaking out?

Yes

Was that the last time you did it?

Absolutely not

LASER TAGGGGGG

YOU WILL GET DESTROYED

MANS IS THE KING OF LASER TAG

So just take that L

Also paintball

He’s not that good at paintball

Mans aim is booty

But he still likes to play!

Random Hc

You’d actually be quite shocked on how chill he could be

Like sometimes he just reads his manga sin silence

If you want to talk then sure

But those are the moments he prefers to be quiet

The reason he’s so good at laser tag...

Is because kids used to target him 🥲

So he had to adapt...

And now he’s a pro!

If you ever want to talk to him about your bullyed past

ON GOD mans is always there for you

He knows what it feels like

So his goal is to comfort you when it comes to that

Honestly

Mf chews loud...

So that’s something you’d have to work on 😃

But he’ll try his best to stop if it bothers you THAT much

Astrology

Capricorn + Taurus

When Taurus and Capricorn come together in a love match, it’s a practical, sensible partnership.

These two Signs share a certain down-to-earth logic and interest in efficiency.

Taurus is not interested in risking more than is necessary in terms of emotional connection and involvement, and Capricorn is similarly disinterested in risk, but more in terms of money and career.

Capricorn’s career is one of the great focuses of their lives; they’re interested in scaling the heights and tend to set very high standards for themselves to adhere to.

Taurus has high standards as well, but regarding love, relationships and possessions.

These two signs admire ones dedication and strength, but, while they have this in common as well as a dependable, realistic, somewhat conservative approach to life (Capricorn more than Taurus), a love relationship between them can go stale fast.

The problem? They’re actually rather different at their cores.

Taurus may begin to find Capricorn too conservative and restrictive

Capricorn may start to think Taurus is too lazy and doesn’t care enough about career and status.

If Taurus can encourage Capricorn to relax a little and appreciate the fruits of labor, and if Capricorn can help motivate Taurus to achieve goals and make dreams a reality, their union can be smooth, happy and long-lasting.

Overall Aesthetic

Chaotic Teenage Romance

Songs

Electric Love- BØRNS

Line Without a Hook- Ricky Montgomery

Scrawny- Wallows

Hey Lover- Wabie