#square flyer

[godserv]

Prayer Conference Invitation Canva Template is a modern design with a scenic composition and saturated color blends that will appeal to a wide demographic. 3 Sizes are included: 1080x1080 pixels, 1080x1920 pixels, and 5 x 5 inches. This digital and print invite is for church sermon series, prayer conferences, youth seminars, and conventions. Designed specifically for an Intercessors Prayer Convention, but can be edited to fit

[wehaveagathering]

please dont be that. please be anything but that. it’s all horrible none of the options are good

[grimfantas]

knockoff flyer

[fratboybeezer]

YORKIE LFG!!!!!

[clairity-org]

George Segal, Circus Flyers, Bakers Square, Minneapolis 7/5/23 by Sharon Mollerus

[chaddavisphotography]

A flyer for "The George Floyd Uprising" book by "Vortex Group" seen at George Floyd Square on February 18, 2023.

[mensuited]

[iwantahockeyhimbo]

travi in the box

[stylewishstudio]

Jungle Night Flyer. Download the Flyer Template on Graphicriver.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Love At First Flight

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff, fear of flying

Summary: Your brother gets injured during his job as a quarterback and needs you to fly to him to take care of him. You’re terrified of flying, but who knew a stranger would make you feel safer than you’ve ever been before?

Square Filled: sports injury for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You’re sitting in a crowded airport but you have never felt so alone in your entire life. You close your eyes and tell yourself that this is for your brother. He needs you right now and you’re the only one who can take care of him. Both your parents died when you two were teenagers and you were never close with the rest of your family. You tried asking your aunt for help but she laughed in your face and has never answered your call again.

Screw them. We don’t need them.

Someone sits next to you in the waiting area but you barely register that they’re there. You’re bouncing your leg up and down rapidly and drumming your fingers on your thighs to keep your anxiety in check.

“Nervous flyer?” the stranger next to you says.

You look at him and momentarily stop moving your leg and fingers. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so attractive before. The moment is short-lived and you go back to moving to ease your anxiety.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “I hate flying. It’s one of my biggest fears, actually.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

“My brother needs me. He tore his ACL while playing football. He’s the quarterback for the Las Vegas Raiders. Our parents died decades ago so I’m the only one who can take care of him. He’s taken care of me my entire life. It’s the least I can do for him.” You stop yourself from rambling more. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“I’m flying home to see my mom. She needs me, too.”

A woman stands at the podium and starts calling different groups to board the plane starting with disabled people and military people before moving on to first class. You’re in business class so your group is called not long after. The handsome stranger stands with you since he is in business class as well, and both of you walk onto the place after the woman checks your boarding pass.

You put your carry-on in the compartments above you before taking your window seat. If you’re going to fly, then you have to sit by the window so you can at least see what’s going on outside if needed. The stranger takes the window seat in the aisle behind you, and he gives you a sympathetic smile before sitting down.

You hate feeling claustrophobic so being in a plane with a hundred other people makes your skin crawl. Not to mention the motion sickness and turbulence. You would have driven from Virginia to Las Vegas but your brother needs you sooner rather than later. There’s also the crashing and dying that spikes your blood pressure. You just hate everything about planes. Maybe you’ll rent a car and drive back once you know your brother can take care of himself.

Before you know it, the plane starts to move. You grip the armrests tightly and squeeze your eye shut once the plane begins to pick up speed. You’ve flown before but the worst part is when it lands and takes off. You hate the feeling of your stomach dropping and this is no exception.

Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you look to see a hand come from the small gap between the seats and the window.

“Hey. You can hold my hand if you want.”

You recognize the voice to be the beautiful stranger you met earlier. You don’t think about it and grab his hand with your right one so that you can lay your arm across your lap comfortably. You squeeze the man’s hand just as the plane lifts into the air. It’s only for a few minutes. Just get through this and I’ll be okay. The man runs his thumb across the back of your hand as a way to comfort you.

It’s working. His hand is so warm and so much bigger than yours. Even when the plane gets to a steady altitude, the man doesn’t take his hand away from you. You don’t move either because you like holding his hand. Never in a million years did you think that you would be holding the hand of a stranger on a flight. If the man is uncomfortable because he has to sit forward to reach you, he doesn’t say anything about it.

By the time the plane lands, you realize that this has been the best experience on a plane you’ve ever had.

All because of a stranger whose name you still don’t know.

It takes twenty minutes to get off the plane, and you find yourself waiting for the man in the catwalk.

“HI,” you smile when you see him.

“How was the flight for you?”

“Better because of you. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. I know a thing or two about having anxiety, and I know how uncomfortable you’d be if you had to spend the six hours like that.”

You two walk toward the baggage claim slowly knowing it’s going to take some time for the workers to bring the luggage over.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiles.

“So, how long are you in Las Vegas for?”

“Just for the weekend. My mom has around-the-clock care but I wanted to visit her anyway. What day and time do you fly back to Virginia?”

“I’m not sure.” The carousel begins and the many suitcases start coming out one by one. “I have to see how my brother is. I know it won’t be for a few weeks, though.”

Spencer nods and nibbles on his full bottom lip in thought.

“Can I give you my number? You know, just in case you want to hold my hand on the flight back.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’d fly all the way back over here just to hold my hand on the flight back?”

“I’ll even get a seat next to you.”

Your cheeks heat up from his intense gaze so you have to look away so you’re not overwhelmed. You take out your phone, unlock it, and hand it to him without a word. Your luggage comes out and you heave it over the side of the carousel. Spencer calls himself so you have his number before handing your phone back to you. He grabs his luggage and you two walk toward the pickup/dropoff area.

“It was really nice to meet you, Spencer,” you smile.

“You, too.”

A car pulls up to the place and Spencer gets in. You’ll wait for the bus to take you to the hospital since you called ahead of time and made sure they could do that. Your brother’s car is at the hospital so you’ll use it to drive him back to his house.

Flying still terrifies you but maybe it doesn’t have to be so traumatic for you. Not with Spencer next to you. Maybe you won’t drive home. Maybe you’ll take Spencer up on his offer.

x

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[ifancyharry]

Ever since New York

what it is: in which YN is Harry Styles's personal assistant, but maybe she should quit her job?

September.

Harry was running late. He knew he was running late because he didn’t even have the time to check on his phone how much late he was running. He hated being late. It wasn’t really in his character. In his manners. It’s not because he didn’t like people waiting on him, he loves being the center of attention; he loves having all eyes on him when he enters a room.

He just didn’t like being late because of the wasted time. Wasted time he took off work. And as of right now, work was pretty much his life. His purpose. 

So being late, was kind of a big deal to him.

Y/N, on the other hand, was used to being late. And she, too, hated it. She hated the attention it came with it. But it was just in her nature, not because she wanted it, but because it happened to her. Like this morning. Her go-to local Starbucks was swamped with people, and she really wanted a pumpkin spice latte, since it was almost the beginning of fall and she still hadn’t had one. 

So, it’s not like she could skip the coffee run. But said coffee run took longer than expected and made her late to her job interview. On top of that, once she exited the cafe, winning cup of coffee slightly burning her hand, it started raining, and of course she hadn’t bought her umbrella, because who brings an umbrella to a job interview?, and plus she really couldn’t be bothered to carry the weight of said object with her all around New York.

So, when she enters the Madison Square Garden Arena, she’s soaked. She almost can hear the squishy sound her Converse make as she walks, her socks feeling rather scratchy against her skin.

She jogs a little towards the backstage area, trying to recall what was said on the email that was sent to her with all the interview details. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, not really used to all the running she had to endure, and she feels hot. She’s positive the heater is on and the sudden contrast with the chilly September air makes her coat feel too warm and her jeans too tight.

She takes a moment to stop herself, trying to calm her heart and breathing down as she takes small sips of her drink. She’s already late, soaked, and sweaty, she might as well enjoy her well awaited drink in peace. She’s sure she’s not going to get the job, anyway. Leave it to her to think she’d fail before even trying.

Harry Styles personal assistant? Yes, she’s known to be a dreamer, but not to that extent. When her friend Anna had told her that her boyfriend had a friend that went to college with Jeff Azoff (she didn’t even know that said Jeff went to college), that he was looking for trustworthy people who could be fit for the job and that he had recommended YN, she thought Anna was pulling a sad excuse of a prank on her. Little did she know, about ten days later, she’d gotten an email from Jeff himself where he asked her if she was down for a little get-to-know-me interview.

Anna knew how much YN needed the job.Young, jobless, and living in New York didn’t really go together too well, and she knew that YN wanted to save as much money as possible to fulfill her life’s dream of studying art in Florence, so she pressured her friend to at least go to the interview. So that’s how she got herself in this situation, sipping her coffee while she regained her breath.

She’s so lost in her own train of thoughts that she doesn’t even realize she stopped in the middle of a hallway. She’s reading a flyer on the wall absentmindedly when she’s hit by a big, sturdy object that makes her loose her balance. She tries to grip her hands onto something to gain some kind of balance, but that only results in her coffee exploding from its own paper cup that she squeezed too hard, the cap flying off and falling on the ground.

“Fuck!” She exclaims as her bum hits the floor with a loud thump. She can feel the coffee on her coat and all over her hands as she raises her eyes from her pumpkin scented, soaked coat and lays her sight on what she thought was an object, but was, actually, a person. Her employer, more like. If she wasn’t convinced enough that she wasn’t going to get the job, she’s sure as hell now. 

“What the fuck!” Harry, who had been running really fast to try and get on time to this stupid interview he had to endure, really hadn’t taken in consideration that someone could be standing in the middle of the hallway he was running down on. 

So, he really thought it was safe to run and check his phone at the same time; big mistake.

It’s not like he was checking his phone for his own personal business, he was just texting Jeff that he was on his way.

“Who stands in the middle of a fucking hallway!” He shouts, but he isn’t even looking at her as he speaks. He’s looking at his shirt, that now has a big, beige colored, stain on it. 

He grips the hem of the shirt with his hands and brings the stained part to his nose, which he scrunches immediately in disgust: “is this regular milk? God, it’s making me sick”.

YN really couldn’t get anything out of her mouth as she slowly gets up from her position on the floor and raises to her feet. She knows she’s supposed to say something, maybe apologize, but it suddenly feels like she doesn’t know how to talk anymore. She’s afraid, if she speaks, she’d blabber something incoherent and make a fool out of herself. Not that she didn’t already.

Plus,  if she’s really being honest, he kind of sounds like an asshole, so she’s not particularly keen on begging for his forgiveness.

“If you were walking like a normal person, this wouldn’t have happened!” She murmurs, but he’s already too far out of reach to hear, otherwise she’s sure he would’ve said something else. She heavily sighs as she walks behind him, careful to leave a big amount of space between them so it doesn’t look like she’s following him.

When she enters the room, after knocking gently on the door, he’s already sat on the chair next to Jeff, a bunch of papers scattered on the desk in front of them. 

She clears her throat a little and Jeff raises his eyes to her, giving her a small smile and gesturing to the chair in front of them. 

Harry, arm bent at the elbow, one hand under the table and the other holding his phone, doesn’t bother to look at who came in until he’s finished reading his emails. He wouldn’t have to read his emails if he hadn’t wasted his time by being late, and mostly by being tackled by a wet puppy looking girl and her stupid pumpkin spice latte. The said pumpkin spice latte that is all over his designer shirt.

When he finally raises his glance, he’s met with a pair of big, wide eyes that remind him of those of a scared deer caught in headlights, and there’s no hint of a joke in his tone as he says: “fuck no.”

...

YN wonders whether she should quit.

It’s not her fault, really, and it’s not like she isn’t trying. She thinks she’s doing a fairly good job.

She’s trying really hard to make up for the coffee incident, and she begged Harry to tell her where he got his shirt so she could at least repurchase it for him, but once he’d told her it was Gucci, she realized it cost more than her rent so she let it go… trying the best she could to watch where she was going as to not repeat the accident again.

Harry is… well, he’s kind of difficult to work with.

She doesn’t know whether it’s because of the coffee incident or because he just doesn’t like her, but he’s really stand-offish.

He doesn’t talk much to her — only when the work demands it, and at first it was fine, YN understood why he’d act like that, but now it’s just getting kind of frustrating, especially because he’s making her job ten times harder than it already is.

She’s determined to show him that just because they started off on the wrong foot, she’s not just some clumsy little girl that had to have friends in the right places to get a job!

“Harry?” She trails off, peeking her head inside his dressing room.

He’s sitting on the couch, his back bent down and his hands fiddling with his shoe laces.

YN notices he’s dressed in his workout clothes (a pair of Nike shorts and a black tee), and she wonders whether he’s going to the gym? Maybe back at the hotel? It would be rather bothersome to go all the way back but she doesn’t say anything since it’s not her place.

When he hears her he raises his head to look at her, his brows hiking up high on his forehead. YN wonders why he’s even surprised to see her… she’s been on his ass for a month straight now, never really leaving his side unless when necessary.

“Hey” he greets her, nodding his head towards her.

“I finished everything you asked me t’do” she smiles, and if she wasn’t sure he’d find a way to piss her off, she would’ve felt at least somewhat triumphant. But she doesn’t.

Because she knows Harry doesn’t like her, so no matter what she does, it will never be good enough to redeem herself.

“Everything, really?” He asks surprised, “hav’you folded all the merch like I asked?” When YN nods he goes on, “ironed my outfit?” She nods once again, “and ‘s my schedule ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She nods swiftly, “I even color coded it” she grins.

He seems to think a bit about his next words, and then, “okay, then. Help me work out, will ya?” he says, refraining himself from smiling a mischievous smile at the sound of her groan.

He’s sure it wasn’t intentional, and she feels extremely embarrassed and hopes he hasn’t noticed or at least won’t call her out on it.

“Let’s go, YN, I don’t have all day” he chuckles darkly, patting her on the cheek as he walks past her.

YN knows she should definitely quit.

...

“What the hell is this! I thought ye said it was all done?”

YN really feels like she could cry. She’s 22 years old and she’s on the verge of crying on her job. A job she begged God to get, a job that’s fundamental to get her in the art school she’s always dreamed of. 

Things haven’t been easy. 

Harry has been a dick to her every day and there’s only so much one can take. 

He’s mean, rude, and always cold. He never smiles even when she brings him coffee (black with no dairy milk because it nauseates him), he never praises her (not even when she color codes his google calendar), and every time she enters a room he hushes as if he’s telling this great secret she’s not supposed to hear. 

Today has been a long day. 

She’d woken up at 5 am to grab him breakfast (not that he demanded it, but she felt as if she needed to in order for them to start the day on a good note — it hasn’t worked, it seems) and after that, she’d watched him workout at the gym in the hotel, the stuffy room nauseating her to the point where she had to beg him to turn the AC on to let the air change. 

After his workout, she’d made her way to the venue. 

He’s playing at Madison Square Garden tonight, and even if it’s not his first time, the tension could be felt in the air and in the way he huffed and puffed at everything she did. 

It’s her job to take care of the merch stand inside the arena, no matter what city they are in, she has to fold the merch and make the stand presentable and organized, so when the staff comes in before the show everything is neat and clean. 

She’s been doing this for a month now so she knows what Harry likes and how he demands it to be cleaned, and until now nothing about her work had disappointed him. So why is he acting like she’s this major screw up that can’t fold clothes?

It’s not the fact that he’s doubting her that hurts her, it’s the fact that he’s doubting her honesty. 

It was all finished. She had folded all the merch like he asked and the stand was in perfectly good tidiness when she left it; sadly, that’s not how Harry had found it, much later and much closer to the show. 

Maybe his pre show jitters made him a little more on edge, because the way he’s stomping his feet and pointing at the merch is making her feel really guilty for not doing her job correctly. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she should’ve checked before telling him she was all done!

“Harry,” she trails off, and she feels pathetic as she hears her voice come out all watery, “I swear, i did like you asked. Why would I lie!” 

She’s almost begging and pleading him, her eyes stinging with the devious tears she’s trying really hard not to let fall. 

“I don’t know why. But why is the stand in this mess? You know this can’t happen before a show, YN!” He reprimands her sternly. 

YN feels like she’s a bad student getting yelled at by her teacher, and she gulps before saying “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it now! Tidy here and then sod off!” 

She nods her head quickly and hurries to get back behind the stand, folding the clothes as fast as she can to fix the mess quickly. She hears him walk away with a grunt, and once he’s out of her line of sight she feels the warm tears start falling from her eyes. 

Finally. 

She chokes down a sob as she keeps tidying up, wondering what the hell happened to the very organized stand she’d left. 

Once she’s done, she double checks everything to make sure (just in case) and then she climbs over the counter to get out. She quickly makes her way to the dressing room as she hears the buzzing of the fans standing outside the venue, waiting trepidating for the gates to open, and she’s thankful she’d been fast, otherwise Harry would’ve fired her on the spot. 

She gathers her work bag and tosses all her belongings inside, sneaking out of the door when she realizes Harry is inside the bathroom showering. 

She doesn’t bother to call a Uber. She chooses to walk, hoping that the fresh air could soothe the headache that crying had left her with. 

It’s a little bit chilly, but she welcomes the cold October weather with contentment, finally free of the heat weave that had populated her summer days. She wishes she could enjoy it more, and if it wasn’t for her mood, maybe she would’ve grabbed a little drink and a sweet treat on her way back. But there wasn’t anything sweet about the way Harry had treated her, so she walks sulkily back to the hotel, ready to pack her bags and leave. She’s decided. She doesn’t want to be his assistant for not even another day. 

It had been a long day. 

…

it’s past 11pm when Harry crosses the threshold of his hotel room, immediately tossing his sweaty clothes on the chair next to the small desk. His room is nice, big but not uncomfortably large to the point of making him feel lonely, and his bed is soft just the way he likes it, and he can’t wait to shower and get under the covers, but… there’s something he needs to do first. 

So, he quickly showers and changes into way more comfortable clothes, a pair of black sweats and a grey treat people with kindness hoodie, slipping his vans on and walking immediately out of the door. 

He’d like to say the uneasiness he feels in his belly is hunger (he had only soup for dinner), but it’s definitely not. He’s nervous. And he feels like a dick. And he doesn’t really know what to say to YN to make it up to her. 

Should he say he was just tense because of the show? In his mind he knows that wouldn’t be too believable, because he’s been doing shows for most of his life, and if he acted the way he did before any of them, he probably wouldn’t have many friends. 

As he’s searching for things to say, he hasn’t even realized he ended up in front of her door, the light beige wood dooming on him and almost making fun of him. 

He closes his hand into a fist and knocks on the door, the pit of his stomach prickling. 

YN opens the door almost immediately, and he wonders whether she was waiting for him. 

He knows she wasn’t as soon as he sees her face fall once her eyes land on him. 

She actually looks pretty cute, all snuggly and sleepy dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts, but when she looks up at him he notices her eyes are a faint red color, and his heart tugs in his chest when he realizes she had been crying. 

It was never his intention to make her cry, and he really does feel bad. 

“What?” She asks dismissively, her body still shielding the room from his view. 

“Know ‘s late but… Can I come in?” He asks wryly, his breath coming out in puffs out of his nose as if he had been running. 

“I don’t know” she ponders. 

“Please, YN” 

She takes a moment to reflect and then opens her door wider (he’s technically still her boss), turning to the side to let him in. 

She closes the door behind him and waits for him to talk with her arms crossed against her chest. He doesn’t really know where to start, whether he should address the fact that she’s been crying or how he treated her, so he settles on “how are you?” And he feels stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. She sniffles before shrugging. 

“Sorry, that was stupid” he pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. 

YN doesn’t know what happens next. 

She’s probably just tired, and maybe really hurt by how Harry treated her so she… she starts crying. 

She feels her eyes fill with tears, stinging her water line. And it’s really embarrassing but she really doesn’t care. She figures he’s going to fire her anyway so she might as well let it all out. 

She chokes down a sob, turning her head to the side to be as subtle as possible, but he notices straight away, walking quickly towards her. 

“YN please don’t cry” he pleas, stretching a hand out to her to squeeze her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry” she sobs, hiding her face and her tears behind her hands, pressing the tip of her fingers to her eyelids. 

Harry really doesn’t know what to do. He thinks of himself as a good person and a good friend but this is different. He’s supposed to be her boss. But, he realizes, he’s also the reason she’s crying, and Harry is everything but cruel, so he tugs her by the shoulder into his chest, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his hand caressing her back soothingly. 

She sobs into his chest, and “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened with that stand. I did everything like you asked”. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay” he comforts. 

To really tell the truth, Harry had forgotten all about the clothes. Yes, he had been pissed about the conditions he found the merch stand in, but she had tided up quickly, so in his mind everything was forgiven. He hadn’t really realized how stern he had come off to her. 

“YN I’m not mad about the merch stand. I’m so sorry I was so rude” 

“No,” she’s quick to object, “I get it, you want everything to be perfect. Trust me I know! But I’m trying my best to make everything perfect like you want” she sniffles, pulling her face away from his chest. 

She dries her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, sighing heavily. 

“You’re doing a great—“ he starts, but she interrupts him immediately, “I don’t know how to work with you if you’re like this. You’re probably going to fire me for saying this but I can’t stand this anymore” she shakes her head to reinforce her words. 

“Please don’t say that! I don’t want to fire you! I think you’re doin’ a really good job” 

“Really?” She asks surprised, he’s never really told her that. 

“Yes, of course! I’m so sorry I’ve been a dick to you, for this past month. I… I’ve got some trust issues, ya know? and It takes me a while to get accustomed to new people but… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It’s not your fault” 

“I thought you kind of hated me” she admits. 

“I could never,” he shakes his head, “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way” 

“Yeah” she sniffles, “you really were a dick” she chuckles once she sees the surprised look on his face. “Plus I’m the only one who knows how to make your little soup” she adds. 

“Oh, you’re right” he agrees, “I could never fire you, then. You’re trapped” 

“Ah! You’re trapped” she giggles, the tears starting to dry on her face and a bit of color returning to her cheeks. 

“But… really, I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again” he says again, looking directly in her eyes to make sure she understands he’s serious.

“Okay” she says softy, sniffling.

“Now” he trails off, “I’m really hungry. Should we go get something to eat?” 

October

“Halloween is not fun.” Harry says, crossing his arms on his chest like a petulant child. 

YN rolls her eyes for what seems like the millionth time, a groan escaping from her parted lips: “but it is!!” She says again. 

The discussion had been opened by Harry himself, claiming he didn’t understand all the excitement YN had claimed to be feeling about Halloween. 

It’s not like he doesn’t like Halloween, he just doesn’t like… scary stuff. 

He hates horror movies and he hates everything paranormal — sure, he loves Twilight (he’s watched it twice already since fall started) but that movie according to him is on a whole other level, and it can’t be described as scary as much as it is angst-y. 

So, when he heard YN all giddy and giggly about this god awful day, he couldn’t just not say what he really thinks of it. Of course she’d love Halloween, Harry thinks. 

“I think you just never truly had the whole Halloween experience” she shrugs from her position on the couch. 

“Trust me,” he says seriously, “I did. Jeff forced me to watch all the Saw movies… it was awful. Couldn’t sleep properly until Christmas” 

YN has to refrain herself from laughing. 

“That’s not what I mean! Watching scary movies is like… the last thing on the list of fun things to do for Halloween” 

“Yeah?” He challenges, turning around in his turning chair to face her, his skin dewy with the moisturizer he’d been massaging on his face. 

“Yes! My favorite is pumpkin painting” she beams excitedly. 

“Pumpkin painting? You have to have made that up” he furrows his brows. 

“What! No! It’s been a thing for… Ugh I don’t know but it’s really fun and I always do it. Come see!” She pats the couch next to her and grabs her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, opening her camera roll and scrolling with her finger until she reaches last year. 

He rolls his eyes at her, getting up from the chair nonetheless. 

He doesn’t sit next to her, instead he towers over her and lowers his head to look at the screen of her phone, his shin touching her knees “ye have a lot of pictures on that damn phone”. 

“Shh!! Here!” She opens the pic and shows it to him: a big pumpkin rests on what seems like a kitchen counter, its previous orange skin painted the brightest shade of pink, with some white splotches of paint that Harry thinks could be little ghosts by their pair of eyes made with two black dots. 

“Wow… that clearly is something…” 

“okay! — she sighs, locking her phone — I didn’t say I was good at it. ‘S just fun an’ I always do it with me mum!” She lifts her head and their eyes lock, his are a bright emerald green today, and she can see herself reflected in them, clearly, and she wonders for a moment how he sees her, what he thinks of her. It lasts only a moment, though, because he averts his gaze quickly, and just as quickly he straightens his posture, towering over her once again. 

“‘S a cute idea” he agrees, taking a step back to put some distance between them. 

YN nods in agreement, picking up her laptop to get back to work immediately. 

Everything is green. 

…

Harry is hiding something. 

He’s been giddy all day and YN noticed first thing in the morning, when she happened to toe his shoe off when he was walking in front of her and he didn’t say anything (it’s the only thing that drives him mad. Like… really mad. He once snapped at her in front of everyone because she kept doing it — accidentally of course). Now, this is not to say Harry can’t have a good day. Since that night in her hotel room, things have been really good between them, and even if their relationship is strictly professional, YN wonders whether a friendship could blossom between them. 

But, she’s also gotten to know him rather well in the two months she’s been working for him, and she knows when he’s hiding something. 

It all started yesterday, when he pretended he had to run some errands alone, and demanded YN stayed at the hotel “to check no one broke into his room” which is a really fucking stupid excuse. When he got back to his room it was late in the night and YN was snacking on some chips, all snuggled up and cozy in his bed, on the verge of falling asleep. 

Nothing seemed different about him since the last time she saw him, and she wondered for a brief minute whether he went out to meet with someone. Having a personal assistant be with you 24/7 can be really invalidating to any romantic relationship someone could want to establish. 

If the only way harry could get a significant other (or even only a sneaky link, YN isn’t one to judge) was to hide from her and demanded her to stay back, it was really pathetic on her part. She pretends like the thought of Harry with someone else doesn’t irritates her. (She’s been stuck all evening in his hotel room while he went out and about!!) 

“Whatcha doin’ in my bed, pet?” He teases once he enters the room, toeing his shoes off and leaving them by the door.

“Your bed is way comfier than mine” she grins, squeezing the comforter closer to her body. 

“I bet” he chuckles. 

“Yeah. But I’m the one working all day so I should get the comfier bed” she shrugs.

“You’re working?” He says, feigning shock as he brings a hand to his chest, “I thought you were my friend willingly!”

“Oh fuck” she sighs, “Jeff told me not to tell you… I must have forgotten” 

“You really are a menace” he chuckles and she giggles, making room for him as he plops down next to her.

“What are ye watchin’?” 

“Just an old episode of How to get away with murder” she says, pressing the “ok” button on the remote to show him the title.

“Never heard of tha’” he furrows his brows, repositioning himself so his legs are stretched out in front of him. 

“You’ve never… what?! That’s crazy! This is probably the best tv show since Grey’s Anatomy went down hill!” 

“Is it scary?” He asks, his brows furrowing on his forehead.

“No, not in that sense at least”

“Okay, then.” He gestures to the remote, “let’s watch it.”

She grins at him and nods, selecting the first episode from the menu. She presses play and when the show starts running, she grabs the chips she was previously nibbling on, putting them between their bodies and telling him that if he wants some to just take them. 

The light from the tv illuminates the otherwise dark room, and YN has to refrain herself from turning her head to look at his profile. 

She smiles Every time he gasps when something unexpected happens, and when the first episode ends, he begs her to put the second straight away. She does, and she listens to his calm breaths that almost lull her to sleep. The bed is comfortable and his warmth from beside her makes her feel safe and soft, and YN thinks it’s really nice he’s doing this with her. She doesn’t stop to wonder what it means. 

…

It’s only the next day that YN gets to finally find out what Harry has been hiding. 

Turns out, he actually wasn’t sneaking out to meet someone behind her back! 

That morning Harry had knocked loudly on her door, tantalizingly sing-songing her name. When she had opened the door, still wearing her pjs and her hair all messy, she had furrowed her brows deeply on her forehead: “Harry!” She had reprimanded him, “it’s 7 in the morning!” 

“Shh, lemme come in” he begged, jumping on his place excitedly. 

He’s wearing his workout clothes and YN knows from his schedule that he has an appointment with his personal trainer at 7.30.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Tonight, after the show, don’t make any plans. I need you for something very serious and very important.” 

And YN would really like to tell him that it’s not like she’d ever make any plans that didn’t revolve around him, but she nods nonetheless, still a bit startled from his irruption in her room that early in the morning. 

That’s how they ended up here, on the floor of his hotel room, probably more than thirty tubes of paint splattered messily in front of them, and two giant pumpkins resting between their legs.

“It’s officially a week before Halloween!” Harry had said, taking the pumpkin out of the bag and showing it to her triumphantly. 

YN had gasped, her hands coming up to cover her mouth shockingly. Never in a million years would she have thought that was what he planned to do. 

She feels warm inside, like a light has been switched up and is warming all her limbs, her chest, her belly. She doesn’t know if he realizes how much this means to her. 

She carefully takes the pumpkin he’s handing to her and sits cross legged on the floor. He sits down next to her, and their knees are brushing with every movement one of them makes. 

“Pass me the remote, please?” He asks.

She nods and grabs it from the bed behind her, handing it to him. 

“I really need to find out who killed her” he says seriously, turning the tv on. “Is it Sam?”

YN chuckles sitting next to him, shaking her head as she bends her back down to grab a paint brush.

“I’m not tellin’ you! That takes away all the fun” 

“I don’t care, YN. I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me!”

“You’re so dramatic” she giggles.

She hands him a brush too and he thanks her with a mischievous grin, “if I end up dying from exhaustion it’s on you!” 

“Shhh, ‘s startin’” she gestures to the tv and they both turn their head to it.

YN grabs a tube of red paint and opens it, squirting a small pump on the plate Harry had gotten her.

“What are ya making?” He asks her after a while.

“I don’t know” she shrugs, “I was thinking something simple like… red hearts”

“Tha’s cute” he agrees, “should I make it How to get away with murder themed?”

YN starts giggling, pushing his shoulder with hers, “that would be cute I guess”

“I’m just kidding. Although I think I could totally rock that”

“Yeah, you would” she agrees.

Harry ends up making it Mickey Mouse themed, drawing two big red ears a pair of big black eyes. He even helps YN with hers (she settled on something more minimalistic) which is ironic because even though she’s the one that loves art, she’s not really good at it.

Harry even snapped a few pictures to send to his mum, one with YN too, “wait, stay right there. Show the pumpkins!!”

“Harry the paint is still fresh I can’t — ugh fine!” She says lifting her pumpkin by the stem. 

He leans in next to her, their temples almost touching, and Harry snaps the picture, a warm smile on his face, dimples showing and all. “Mum’s gonna love this.”

They watch a couple more episodes of this tv show Harry has gotten obsessed with, and once the clock strikes midnight YN is so exhausted Harry has to finish her pumpkin for her. 

Her eyes are aching and she brings her fingers to press on them, hoping to relieve some of the burning. 

“Everything all right?” He asks turning his head to look at her.

“Yes” she nods, “just forgot my glasses and the tv is hurting my eyes”

“Wait” he tells her, standing up on his feet quickly. He heads over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging through all the stuff he keeps inside it.

He sits back down after a minute, closer than he was before, and he shows her a pair of glasses, “here”.

She looks at him surprised, and “thank you” she says, grabbing them from his hand and sliding them on.

The glasses are comfortable, with a kind of thick frame, and she understands immediately they are a much better quality than hers.

She’s surprised she can see clearly with them, and she enjoys the much needed rest the glasses provide. She leans her head on the back of the bed behind her and sighs contentedly.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much better.” 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses” he says after a while, his gaze still on the tv, “never seen you wear ‘em”

“Yeah” she agrees, embarrassed, “‘s just… don’t really like the way I look in them. Plus it’s not like I’m completely blind!” She hurries to add “they just get really tired and… yeah”

He turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed on his forehead and his eyes scrutinizing her face.

She feels embarrassed under his gaze and she squirms imperceptibly in her spot. 

“You look proper cute, actually” he says with a swift nod as to reinforce his words. 

She blushes and prays that he doesn’t notice, mumbling a ‘thank you’ and quickly averting her gaze back to the tv.

She feels once again that warm feeling inside her, but this time it’s all over her body and it’s kind of overwhelming. 

She debates whether she should leave or stay, but Harry’s presence is so comforting beside her, and it’s not like his comment has to mean anything. 

It’s just a compliment. 

Like a friend would to another. Right? 

…

It’s not easy to avoid your boss. 

Harry is everywhere, and it’s not like YN wants to avoid him, it’s just inevitable since she realized she actually has a crush on him. 

On the span of these three days YN tried to tell herself it wasn’t that big of a deal; Harry is handsome, he almost resembles an angel, and he’s funny, and since he’s warmed up to her she realized he’s also nice, and caring, and soft. His smile is bright as the sun. His eyes are a peculiar shade of green she has never seen before and she noticed some nights they turn almost blue and she really would like to ask him why but she figures that’s way overstepping her boundary so she just keeps quiet every time she notices it.

And he’s many things all together. 

And maybe if she avoids him this feeling will go away and everything will go back to normal sooner than later. 

On the fourth day, he catches her on her way back to his dressing room and she almost has an heart attack. She had been so careful up to that point!!! 

She was sure he was still in the shower, and she needed to grab her sweatshirt from the dressing room since it was starting to get chilly, but once she opened the door, there he was, sitting on the couch in only a towel and a sweatshirt. Her sweatshirt. She feels like she could combust any second.

“YN! Hey!” He cheerfully greets her once he notices her, locking his phone and leaving it next to him on the couch.

“Hi, H” she replies “just needed to grab my… sweatshirt” she clears her throat embarrassed, pointing towards his torso.

He looks down to himself and then his eyes widen in surprise, “this one’s yours? I’m so sorry pet, thought ‘t was mine!” 

“Tha’s fine” she shrugs, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that he called her a pet name.

“You wan’ it back?” He asks, grinning.

“No, no that’s fine, I’ll find something else” but before she can even answer he’s already getting up, slipping out of the sweatshirt. He walks towards her and hands it to her, “hav’to get ready soon anyway”.

She nods and as he walks to his clothing rack where his outfit is already displayed, and YN lets her eyes linger for a brief moment on his back, his skin is already moisturized and YN wonders if it feels as soft as it looks, his little moles and freckles look like little constellations on the skin of his back, like the Gods blew stars onto it when they created him, and the color of his skin is almost lunar-like, despite how much sun he gets.

“Feel like I haven’t seen ya in ages” he interrupts the silence after a while, and YN watches as he picks up his tank top from one of the hangers and slips it onto his head.

She nods when he turns to her, the tank top is white and she can see the faint ink of his tattoos, “had so much work to do” she sighs.

“Are you sayin’ I’m overworking you?” He chuckles, and she’s quick to say: “no! No! Just… you know with Harryween coming up there’s so much stuff to do”

“Yeah” he agrees, “maybe tonight we can watch a couple of episodes…?” He questions tentatively. 

YN would really like to say yes. She really would. 

“I’m really tired, Harry…” she trails off, “maybe another night?”

“Yeah of course” he shrugs.

He leans down to slip on his leather trousers, tossing the towel on the couch next to him.

“But you can obviously go on though!! I already know what happened and…”

“What? No! I don’t want to watch it without you, that’s our thing.” He says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows, “‘s okay, I can wait a couple days. Even though I hav’to tell ya… i think I may be in withdrawal… i have been tempted to look up spoilers online”

She giggles at his playfulness, “Harry! I told you not to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t! But eventually I have to know, I have a couple of ideas on who did it though”

“I’m not saying anything”

“Fine” he groans jokingly, “but you have to admit I deserve an award for putting up with all your torture”

“You’re so dramatic!” She laughs through her teeth.

“Yeah, yeah. Actually!” He starts, and he smiles a malicious smile YN is afraid to know what it means, “everything would be forgiven if you came shopping with me tomorrow”

“Harry! I have so much stuff to do! I can’t just ditch everything to go shopping with you”

“Please!!” He pleas almost like a petulant child, “I don’t want to go alone! ’s boring!”

“Jeff gave me so much stuff… you know how he gets when I don’t get things done” she sighs. She’s still holding the sweatshirt he gave (back) to her, and she squeezes it against her chest.

“Screw Jeff” Harry shrugs, passing a hand through his hair to comb it.

“He’s literally my boss”

“No” he’s quick to say, walking towards her and stopping when he’s in front of her, crossing his arms on his chest “Jeff is your employer. I’m your boss” he chuckles darkly, poking her in the stomach playfully.

“Uggh fine! I’ll come” she sighs, finally giving in to his demand. “But you’re buyin’ me coffee tomorrow”

“Deal” he nods his head swiftly.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove on the shoulder, “see ya after the show! Good luck”

“Thank you pet” he says smiling at her softly.

She gives a small smile back and turns to walk out the door.

Once she’s out, the cold air of the AC hits her, and she’s quick to slip over her head the sweatshirt she actually came to get in the first place.

It’s still warm and his sweet musky scent lingers on it. She buries her nose into it and walks to find Jeff, telling him the new plans for the next day.

…

“I need you to do my makeup”

It’s the 31st of October, just a couple of hours before Harryween, and Harry still isn’t dressed in his Dorothy costume. 

His makeup artist had texted him that she wouldn’t be available to work on Halloween (she has young children and couldn’t miss a chance to spend the holiday with them!), but Harry was so busy he hadn’t paid too much mind to it. He knew if it got to the point where no one else was available, he could do it himself. It’s just makeup, it’s not supposed to be hard.

Well, turns out, it is hard. 

So, YN was really his last hope. 

That’s why he knocked loudly on her hotel door, impatiently waiting for her to open it. 

He heard her groan and then the sound of feet walking quickly towards him. 

“What!” She says before even checking who it was.

“I need you to do my makeup”.

That’s how they ended up in her room, both sitting cross legged on her floor with a bunch of makeup bags opened next to them. 

She would really like to be fussy and pouty about it, because not only he has her working on Halloween (she didn’t specifically ask for the day off, but she figured it wasn’t necessary for her to be at the entire show and he could’ve maybe let her off a little earlier, but, no — he had demanded she stayed through the entirety of the show) plus now she’s going to be late and she probably won’t have time to do her own makeup like she wanted specially for her costume!!

but… how can she possibly complain when he’s sitting in front of her like an obedient puppy, looking at her with curious green eyes every time she takes a product out of her bag?

This little crush she has on him is starting to get out of control! Instead of being annoyed at him she’s referring to him as a cute puppy! what is wrong with her!

“Wha’s that for?” He asks, pointing to the little tube of moisturizer she takes out. 

“Moisturizer. This one’s lighter than the one you use because I have oily skin, but I reckon it could work as well” she pops the cap open and squirts a small amount on the tip of her fingers.

She warms it between her hands before looking at him questioning, silently asking for his permission to touch his face.

He nods immediately once he understands, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Hold your hair for me please” 

He brings a hand to his forehead and tucks away the curls that fell onto it.

YN feels her heart beat hard against her chest as she gets closer to smear the cream onto his face, massaging his cheekbones and his sinuses to ease the product into his skin. 

Harry sighs once she starts massaging his temples, and he makes sure to thank God in his head for his makeup artist and her children, because YN is really gentle.

She has really soft fingers and her touch is delicate, and he thinks she touches him like something fragile that is worth preserving. And he likes the feeling a little too much.

“All done!” She beams, removing her hands from his face (she even dragged the cream onto his neck!).

“Now I think we should do eyebrows” she takes out a small black spoolie and she starts brushing through his brows, “I don’t think yours need much filling.” She ponders, “maybe just in a couple spots we can make ‘em more thick if you’d like”.

He nods, “I’d like that”.

“Okay!” She grabs her pencil and draws a couple of stray hair. 

“Now… I think mascara. And then we’ll do the blush. Close your eyes” she instructs, unscrewing the tube of mascara and removing the excess on the tip. She brings a hand to his eye and presses her thumb to his eyelid, that way she can see his eyelashes better.

She starts coating them with the mascara, first one eye and then the other repeating the same process as well, “your lashes are so long” she whispers, almost to herself, but she hears him chuckle through his nose nonetheless.

“All done!” 

He opens his eyes and they flutter a couple of times, the new added weight of the mascara kind of uncomfortable at first.

Once he gets accustomed to it, he looks at her with his piercing bright green eyes.

YN looks between them as she closes the tube mascara; they’re the deepest shade of green today, and the black coating his lashes is only making them stand out more. 

“Now?” He asks, and she tries to hide her blush as she tilts her head down to rummage through her bag.

“Blush! I’m thinking lots of blush!” 

She takes out a bright cherry blush and “that’s way too red” he protests, furrowing his brows.

She shushes him immediately, “just trust me on this ‘s gonna look so cute!!!” 

This time he doesn’t close his eyes, but he chooses to look at her.

The concentrated expression on her face is really cute, her brows are furrowed as she applies the blush with her fingers (she explained she prefers fingers because brushes can irritate the skin and cause break outs and she doesn’t want that).

He feels her apply some on his nose too, and he involuntarily scrunches it. She giggles at it and then keeps blending the blush on his skin.  

From this angles YN can see he has freckles on his nose, and she doesn’t know why but it makes her feel warm. He seems more real like this, his nose sensitive and with a constellation of freckles on it. She wonders if they get darker in the sun, and she figures she’ll probably know once the summer arrives.

“Looks proper cute!!!” She sighs dreamily, looking at his face to admire the finished look. “I just know your fans will go crazy” she smiles softly.

He grins at her and gets up on his feet, heading for the bathroom to look at himself.

“Fuck I look good!” She hears him say from the bathroom, “the blush is my favorite part”.  

She smiles to herself as she starts tidying her makeup back into the bags, even if it’s pointless really because she has to do her own now.

She gets up from the floor and checks for the time on her phone that’s charging on the bedside table, just as Harry gets out of the bathroom. She still has a hour and a half to get ready, and she thinks she could make it work.

“Thank you again, pet” he smiles down at her and she suddenly feels too hot and breathless.

“It’s okay, no problem at all!” 

…

It’s past midnight once YN finally returns to the hotel. 

A guy from the crew named Peter (he’s a light technician) invited YN to go out with him and his friends, but she’s so tired she declined politely, promising to make up for it another time.

She doesn’t really know what Harry is doing, and she wonders if Peter invited him as well and if perhaps he declined, but she doesn’t have to wonder much because not even half an hour later she hears a knock on her door.

She’s already wearing her Halloween themed Snoopy pajamas, and if it was any other situation she’d probably feel embarrassed, but she’s so tired she just can’t wait to get to bed.

When she opens the door she sees it’s Harry, and she notices — happily — that he’s wearing his pajamas as well (His consist of a pair of plaid pants and a grey hoodie, but still a pajamas nonetheless), and his face is free of the makeup she’d put on him that same afternoon.

He holds in his hands two full grocery bags, and she looks pointedly at him. 

“Can I come in? My arms are starting to get sore”

She nods and moves to the side to let him in, closing the door behind them after. 

“So.” He starts, placing the bags on her bed, “I was about to go to bed when I realized it’s still Halloween”

She furrows her brows at him, “I thought that was like the whole point of Harryween?”

He chuckles at her, “of course, I know. That’s what I’m saying exactly.”

“I don’t follow?”

“I had you work on Halloween! You told me before how much you love Halloween and I didn’t think to give you the day off”

“Oh, Harry. It’s okay, really! Don’t worry about that, it’s stupid!” She says, but not without blushing a little.

She knows it’s just decent courtesy to remember conversations one shared with another, but she says a lot of stuff and she didn’t really think he would remember! Plus, he doesn’t really like Halloween, so she thought he’d actually regard her interest in celebrating it as annoying.

“It’s not stupid” he shakes his head, “I thought to remedy as best I could. But I have to confess, Jeff did the grocery shopping so I can’t take credit for it.”

She giggles and walks closer to the bed, peeking her head to look inside the bags, “it’s okay. You were busy”.

He laughs and nods, spilling the bags onto the bed. An undefined amount of sweets fall on the bed, and YN gasps at how many choices of candies and chocolates Jeff picked out.

“Fuck! i think he got every possible candy available” he snorts.

She agrees with a laugh, “what are we supposed to do with all this food?”

“I know it’s not the best but I thought we could watch a movie and eat it? But if you want to go to sleep that’s fine I mean I-“

He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed.

What was he thinking? Walking into her room like a maniac with two bags full of candy and expecting her to be down to watch a movie with him. She works for him. This is entirely not appropriate and he’s aware of that, but… when he saw her on the side of the stage, singing mindlessly along to Golden, dressed as Princess Belle he realized how cruel he had been to take Halloween away from her.

Not only had he deemed it as “not fun” right in front of her enthusiasm, he also specifically requested for her to work, and even if she had not expressed formal complaints, she probably should have.

Because he had been a dick.

So, in his quick pee break, instead of freeing his bladder, he texted Jeff if he could do him a big favor and grab every single candy he could get his hands of, recommending specifically to get as many choices to pick from as he could (he didn’t know what YN liked and he couldn’t risk it).

YN quickly interrupts his train of thoughts, “okay!!! But I get to choose the movie though”

“Okay, -- he nods amused -- Deal. But — he says, picking up the remote from the coffee table to hand it to her — Nothing too spooky”

YN gets comfortable on the bed next to Harry, the candies resting at their feet. He has a package of Sour Patch Kids resting on his tummy, and every time YN wants one she has to move her arm, and it brushes against his chest. 

She feels… weird. It’s weird to her that he would do something like that, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. If it was any other case, if a guy did something like this for her, she’d immediately thought of it as a date, or a way to show interest in her but with Harry… it’s different.

She doesn’t think he likes her like that.

Maybe he sees her as a friend? She doesn’t think she’s particularly fun, but he always chooses to hang out with her, even after a tiring day…

She gets shaken out of her thoughts once she hears him gasp from next to her.

“Oh God, what happened?” She looks at him pointedly.

“I told you no scary movies!” He whines childishly, closing his lips in a pout.

“Harry! ‘S Caroline! It’s not scary!” She can’t help but giggle at him. 

“It’s scary to me” he huffs, taking a candy from the package and popping it into his mouth. He takes another one and shows it to her, which she gladly takes from his fingers. 

“I promise if you get past the scary part it’s really good” 

“Fine” he nods, “I’ll watch it. But please tell me once it gets scary again”

She smiles fondly at him and nods back, “yes, don’t worry about it.”

...

“You know, you were right… once you see past the scary scenes it’s actually a pretty good-“ 

It’s after the movie has finished that Harry realizes YN has fallen asleep next to him.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to bite back a smile, grabbing the remote to shut off the tv.

She must be so tired.

He has her working non stop while she should be out and having fun at her age. She isn’t that much younger than him, but he knows how much can change from your early to your late twenties.

He also knows he should get up from the bed and go sleep in his own one, but… he’s really comfortable right now and she’s really warm next to him, and she smells like candies and vanilla, the perfect scent to lull him to sleep.

He’s also very tired, and before he knows it, his eyes are closing shut and his mind is already wondering to faraway countries, with cotton candy skies and chocolatey grass.

The air smells like vanilla, and he doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or if it’s her next to him, he just knows he was definitely wrong; Halloween isn’t as bad as he thought. 

it's hereeee and it's halloween themed ;))) (!!!!!) let me know what you think and if you want part 2!!!! taglist: @gem1712 @jerseygirlinca @lexiecamposv @ameerakane20 @lovrave @mema10 @sunshinemoonsposts

[godserv]

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[haikyu-mp4]

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word count; 742 – gn!reader who likes makeup

“Sugarpill… what is this?” Kenma mumbled as he opened another PR package. This one was a bright pink box, on the smaller side. He scrunched his nose as he opened it, finding a little flyer and something square with a pixelated cat on the front. “Fun size… eyeshadow palette?” he read off the label and looked up as the chat suddenly went crazy.

kozuluvr: omg its makeup

kenkenspudding: will we finally get beauty guru kodzuken?

raginggamergirl: I dont even use makeup n I want this palette

Kenma hummed under his breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why they would send me this,” he said honestly, twisting and turning the palette in his hands before opening it and showing the bright colours to the livestream, also doing his best to read off the names, which were all gaming related.

urfavkuroo: makeup tutorial for your next follower special?

He looked down at the palette, seemingly studying it. “The names are cool.”

When you came home from work, you kicked your shoes off and sighed loudly as you strolled into the kitchen. You knew Kenma was playing on livestream, so you picked up two juice boxes from the fridge and went to his office.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed, waving at the camera as you stepped up beside Kenma and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You two announced your relationship a long time ago, and after getting through the short period of intense hate comments, most of his fans seemed to get over it. They realised that you were kind of awesome.

“Hi, how was work?” Kenma asked, taking the juice box from you with a small thanks after pausing the game.

“Same old, same old.” You glanced at the screen and then back to him. “And yours?” you asked back with a teasing tone. “Looks tough.” Kenma scoffed and pinched your thigh, making you giggle. He ignored your question in favour of leaning across his desk to pick up the pink package.

“Look what I got in my sponsored mail,” was all he said, handing it to you and watching for your reaction with a small smile on his face. He really likes it when you get home.

People started posting suggested makeup looks with his name on Twitter and you even responded to a couple of them from your account, agreeing with what would suit him and what would not.

That’s why you two agreed that you would do the makeup on him, announcing on Kodzuken’s channels that if they got him to his next follower milestone, they would get a makeup special.

And what do you know, Kenma got a follower boost from all the posts his fans made about him and the palette.

You happily helped him set up to film in your living room, so you could sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch where the lighting was a bit nicer. In preparation, you cleaned your eyeshadow brushes and put Kenma’s hair in a nicer bun so the camera could properly catch whatever you did.

He raised a brow as you held up the eyeshadow palette to the camera and put your hand behind it, explaining the product. “What are you even doing?” he asked you, pointer finger drawing stars on your knee while he watched you affectionately.

“This is what us beauty gurus do,” you said in a jokingly posh voice, also telling him “You wouldn’t understand.”

“This is my channel, you know,” he teased, using his other hand to tap your cheek. If he focused more on you, he didn’t think too much about how much more exposed he was to his viewers in a video like this compared to what he was used to.

“Shh, I’m talking to my devoted followers,” you said before laughing, picking up the next colour on a new brush and putting a quick kiss on his lips before you continued with the makeup. “We’re all Kodzuken fans here.”

Kenma knew some people expected him to act annoyed, but he also knew there was no way to hide how much he loved your soft touches and the concentrated look on your face as your brushes ticked his skin to give him a (supposedly trendy) “rainbow blush”.

There were even more mentions of him online after the video was posted. Now the fans shared screenshots and video clips of him and his partner, discussing how adorable you were together. Couple goals.

masterlist

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[iridescentparkers]

study buddies - tasm!peter parker x female reader

a/n - this also works for any peter ;)

THE BRIGHT BLUE flyer posted on the Midtown bulletin gave Peter flashed lightbulbs in his already crowded brain. 

Tutoring. It was the only way he could talk to Y/N. Intentionally walking his body in her direction and offering to buy her dinner? Heck no. Baby steps, he thought to himself. 

So after school today, Peter put on a new hat, an actor. He was amazing at physics, even planning to take AP next year, but he couldn’t tell her that. 

Now, he sits in the dark physics room, putting on an amazing show for his new study buddy. 

“Coulomb’s law?”

“Something with electric fields?” He asked, looking down at his worksheet and tapping his pencil rapidly on the desk.

“Something like that.” She informed, her voice raising an octave as she lowered her lids. 

She picked up her pencil, writing out some numbers in her textbook, “All of these variables should be over “F” squared.”

“Actually “r” squared,” he muttered, looking at the sheet.

“What?”

“What!” 

“You knew I already knew this?”

“And you dumbed yourself down to come talk to me?” Y/N laughed, darting her eyes from the false practice problems to his large, droopy brown eyes. “I think you win.” 

“Why did you lie?”

“To talk to you.” He informed, shrugging a shoulder as he darted his eyes to Y/N’s expression.

“I know you’re a genius, Peter.” she laughed, patting his shoulder. “We were in the same classes in 9th and 10th grade”

“But if you knew that, why did you agree to study with me?”

“Cause…” she trailed, moving her eyes up and down. “I think you’re cute.”

He felt heat in his cheeks as he ran an index finger over his forehead. Y/N reached up to place a long kiss on his cheek, “Except for when you fake being dumb.”

“The nerd thing is really hot.”

[beansprean]

My entry for What We Create In The Shadows vol 4! @wwcitszine

It was a privilege to be able to contribute to this zine among such creative, talented, and fun artist and writers! The mods truly did an incredible job and the zine is BEAUTIFUL! Highly recommend getting a physical copy if you can. :)

You can still get WWCITS until July 28th! All proceeds to to PFLAG!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: Detailed drawing of a city street at night; Nandor, Laszlo, Nadja, and Colin Robinson are in the foreground, running for their lives towards the viewer. Chasing them (having caught up to them, really) is vampire Guillermo flying through the air on bat wings, silhouetted by the glowing full moon behind him. He is grinning maniacally with his clawed hands curled upward in triumph, eyes glowing a burning orange as he poses mid-flight, chest puffed out with his newfound power. Nandor is in the front, arms pumping, eyes wide with fear as he looks straight ahead. At his elbow is Laszlo, looking over his shoulder in alarm, one hand clamped around Nadja's wrist to drag her on behind him. Nadja's other hand is holding up her skirts and cradling Nadja doll potato-sack style in her elbow as she rushes along. She looks upward with a snarl, distracted, as Guillermo looms above her. Lagging behind is Colin Robinson, huffing and puffing as he tries to keep up.

The city street behind them is full of easter eggs. A kiosk on the left behind Laszlo is covered in flyers: fundraiser to cover medical bills for Toby, a recruitment poster for the Mosquito Club, an add for reanimations for $350 cash, a Go Flip Yourself ad, a comptroller campaign poster for Sean covered up by one for Colin covered up by one for Evie, a newspaper article about Morrigan Manor, a Wicked poster, a flyer for the familiar mixer, a missing poster for Jenna, a Found poster for Guillermo's bicycle, a handwritten ad that says "Djinn to good home, call Gyermo" with a photo of the djinn lamp, and several stickers including one that says 'werewolves not swearwolves, a Palestinian flag, and the s5 moon promo shot. Sitting atop the kiosk is a frog with curly brown hair - la Guillerana, and above it on the brick wall is a black poster featuring a hooded figure with round glowing eyes that says "The Night Market: if you know, you know." The roof of the building has a clothesline stretched across it where the Cloak of Duplication is hanging. The next building has glass doors and windows across the first floor with soft ambient lighting coming from within. A foldable chalkboard outside says 'closed for privat pardy'. The name of the restaurant is printed above the door: 'love at first bite'. The second floor is a grid of square windows with the blinds drawn, a single ad for Rapula Realty in an upper window. A single anonymous finger parts the blinds on a lower window to peek out. The third floor has three windows and fairy lights draped across the front. A purple flag that says 'human wellness inquire within' hangs from the first window, and the second has one foggy pane with the word 'help' written on it backwards. Black Peter the goat is on the roof, front hooves planted on the ledge to look out at the running vampires in the street. The following building has a grid of windows and a temporary vinyl sign stretched across it that says 'Urgent Care'. More buildings stretch out behind to the horizon.

On the right, there is a small newspaper vending machine with the headlines 'Flying Man Spotted' and 'Strange meteor lands in New Brighton'. The adjacent building has four stories, the only entrance a set of stairs going straight down. Neon pink lights pour from the doorway and lowermost windows. Above the doorway with an arrow pointing down is a neon sign for Nadja's. Below it, a poster exclaiming 'Baby Colin Live!' One of the middle windows has a sign that says 'Nadja and Laszlo Human Music Group performing Thursday nights'. Hanging from the roof precariously by both hands and looking towards the ground in terror is Patton Oswalt. One of the Baron's mutant children is sitting happily on the ledge nearby. A tree is on the roof and has some kind of net hanging from it. The next building is corporate and mostly windows, the bottommost portion open and flanked by yellow poles, a yellow and black divider blocking the entrance. An awning above it says 'Jesk Parking'. Inside, there is what looks to be a pile of rats. Two bats fly past. A vinyl sign stretched over the building front is an ad showing a man hugging a pillow that says "Get the Guy Pillow! Buy 100 get 1 free! Guys only!" The roof turns suddenly to greco-roman architecture, a row of stone columns lining the edge. Sitting at the very top are the two gargoyles having a riveting conversation. The next building is 3 stories and has a trans flag hanging from one corner and a progress flat from the other. The first floor has an alcove with a door flanked by two windows, one featuring shelves with jars of white liquid, the other a palmistry poster that reads 'free palm reading with every ejaculation'. The store name above reads 'Satchel Serafina' More text on the second floor reads 'Home of Memo's Man Milk, gathered lovingly by hand.' Beyond this building is a small grassy area behind a fence with a dead old tree and some graffiti that says 'Simon the Devious' with a crown. There is a nearby sewer drain under the sidewalk where a hand is reaching out. More buildings stretch out behind to the horizon. /end ID