#I always go on hiatus. been taking so many photos too

[mountainzombie]

setting a new queue for this. whoops

[jezebelblues]

burning hill | h.s

summary: in which a girl feels too afraid of commitment because of her past, and the boy who knows nothing of it, falls helplessly anyway.

cw: smut18+ fingering, penetration (p in v), a smidge of spanking, mommy issues, 2016!harry, angst, i guess. all in upper case if that gets u goin. fem!reader, unedited cause i fell asleep writing this. gn. mwah :*

word count: approx 17k

| hhmm more coming of these 2 perhaps 🫵

ps: if u see any (!!!) around words or see random things in all caps, its cause that’s what i use to indicate (for myself in editing) italics/bold cause tumblr doesn’t save that i swear

masterlist

It’s been fifteen months since the group announced their hiatus.

Phone calls became scarce, and so many words were left unspoken, drifting into that space where they might never find their way back. For the first time in years, he felt free—untethered from the rhythm of living intertwined with three other lives. At first, the quiet felt unbearable, like the silence after the crowd fades and the lights go down. But slowly, the loneliness began to feel like home. A strange sort of comfort in the quiet. He found a semblance of privacy—at least a bit more than he had in the band.

Harry felt that, since the hiatus, the fans had grown older with him, their wide-eyed fascination dulled by time and reality. There were fewer frantic moments, fewer desperate hands pulling at him. Now, on a good day, he could stroll through his hometown, maybe get stopped for a polite photo. Occasionally, there were still shadows trailing him—paparazzi or a fan trying to be invisible but failing, always just out of reach. He didn’t like it, not really, but he’d learned to live with it. It’s what came with the territory, a price he thought he’d long accepted.

But it was the writing that kept him grounded. Kept him real. The one thing that still felt like his own. His debut album was close to finished now, though the mixing, the rewrites, the constant tweaking—it never felt like enough. There was this tightness inside him, a knot of anxiety that refused to unravel. Would anyone like Harry styles, the solo artist? Or would they always only care about Harry, the boy in the band?

He wasn’t ungrateful, not for a second. But deep down, he craved something more. He needed the space to finally figure out what he wanted, to break free, to become something else entirely. Something new.

It’s been eight months since he met YN.

It was happenstance, through his manager—though sometimes Harry liked to imagine it was fate. It was one of those coincidences that felt too deliberate to be real, like something out of a half-finished song. She was Jeff’s goddaughter, on the periphery of his world, but until then, she’d been just another name mentioned in passing.

YN started her internship at the recording studio in the beginning of April of this year. She moved to New York with a close friend shortly after her twenty first birthday, saving up for what felt like forever, and Jeffery instantly had the idea of corroborating with the studio about an internship. He knew of her uncertainty about the future. He knew about the interest in music YN had, and he wanted to give her a chance.

Jeff had told her it was a paid internship, though it really wasn’t. He was the one who was paying her through check, under the guise of the studio. She would freak if she found out, turning it all down—Jeff knew that all too well.

Her first month was moreso about passing time. She’d work on any logistics, learning about the soundboard and how it worked hand in hand with the recording aspect, not to mention the process of remastering, mixing, finalizing. Harry was in and out those first three weeks, still finishing up a few interviews and whatnot. YN talked to him a few times when he’d pop in before taking off again, he was sweet. Still, she needed something to do until he was finally able to settle down to focus on one of the last stretches of the album—and giving her busywork was just that.

She wasn’t supposed to be at the office that day in May, but Jeff made her come along before they would continue their constant work at the drawing table, in the booth. It was the day he decided to cut his hair—and there she was, sitting quietly on the edge of the room, trying not to be seen, caught up in the swirl of conversations she didn’t quite belong to yet. There was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on. The way she observed everything, but didn’t feel the need to make herself known. A quiet confidence, maybe, or just a complete lack of pretense.

When she offered to help with the cut, everyone laughed, but he said yes. He didn’t know why, maybe because she didn’t treat it like this big, defining moment. The whole world was making such a fuss about his hair, like that was all he was, all he’d ever be. But YN? She just smiled, grabbed the scissors, and got to work. No ceremony, no theatrics—just a few careful snips, and suddenly he was lighter, like he could breathe again.

Afterward, they’d joked about how she should switch careers. But she’d only smiled that same quiet smile and said she was more interested in being on the other side of music. She was learning everything she could. At first, she was just there, hovering at the edge of things. But before long, she was everywhere. Quietly slipping into conversations, offering up ideas that stuck with him long after she’d left the room.

She wasn’t like the people he usually worked with. She wasn’t starry-eyed, wasn’t afraid of him or the idea of him. YN spoke to the brunette like he was just a guy making music, figuring things out. And maybe that’s what drew him in, slowly at first, then all at once. She didn’t see Harry Styles, the soloist. She saw Harry—the restless, uncertain man who wasn’t sure if he was running from his past or trying to carve out a future. He was human, an equal, not an enigma.

He caught himself thinking about her more than he should, replaying their conversations in his head when he was alone in his flat, the silence pressing in around him. She had this way of getting under his skin without even trying, making him wonder if he’d been doing everything wrong up until now. Or maybe, just maybe, she was the first person to make him feel like he didn’t need to have all the answers.

There was something magnetic about her, a pull he couldn’t quite shake. He’d see her in the studio, headphones on, scribbling notes on a track they’d been working on, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cared about the music, really cared, and he respected that more than he could say. In the rare moments she’d look up and catch him watching, she’d smile—soft and unassuming, as if she wasn’t at the center of this storm he was slowly getting lost in.

He’d thought about it, late at night when the studio was empty, and all he had were his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was the music that kept him coming back, or if it was something else entirely.

But the truth was, ever since she walked into his life, the world didn’t feel as heavy. It didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

YN had a quiet way of carrying herself, something light and untouchable, like she’d mastered the art of being present without ever fully giving herself away. It was part of what made her so magnetic, Harry thought, but it also kept her at arm’s length—just out of reach. The more time he spent with her, the more he sensed there were pieces of her story she wasn’t ready to share, things she held onto with a grip so tight, it almost hurt to watch.

Her father had been older when she was born, older than Jeff was, at least—a man who had already been through his share of mistakes and regrets by the time he met Jeffery in college. YN’s dad had been trying to start over, to build something solid for himself after years of wandering. They clicked right away—two guys who didn’t have much in common on the surface, but who understood each other in the ways that mattered. Jeff was young, still wide-eyed and ambitious, while YN’s father had lived a little longer, seen more of the mess the world had to offer. They bonded over that, and when YN was born, Jeff had been right there, practically family.

YN’s mother had left when she was just a baby. No warning, no messy custody battle, just gone. Her dad was the moon, always there—faintly during the day when he worked, but always present by night. Her mother was a solar eclipse, popping up in certain areas every now and then, but never staying. Maybe she’d call and wish her a belated happy birthday, or send a card for Christmas that year. She was always fleeting. And YN thought herself the stars, always there, always ever connected to the two despite time and space.

So, her father had raised her on his own, doing his best with what little he had. Jeff had been named godfather not long after her birth, and though he didn’t say much about it, YN knew he’d always carried a quiet kind of guilt. Like maybe if he’d been around more, her life might’ve been different. She never blamed him, of course—she adored Jeff, looked at him like he was some kind of anchor in her life, a second father figure, someone she could always count on. But there was no denying that a part of her had been shaped by absence, by the cold reality of her mother’s abandonment.

She didn’t talk about her mother much. When they’d first started getting to know each other, Harry had asked her once—offhandedly, without thinking—and the way her expression shifted, the way her walls shot up so quickly, he knew not to push. He’d seen it before, in himself, the instinct to hide away when the past felt too close.

Harry didn’t know much about her. They hadn’t talked about personal things, not really. Her past wasn’t something she talked about, not with anyone, and especially not with people like Harry—people who had the world’s attention, people who might think she was just another girl with a tragic backstory. But he knew she was Jeff’s goddaughter, that she was interning at the studio, trying to figure out if music was the career she wanted. He knew her favorite artist and color, knew her favorite subject in school and her best friend’s name—Marisol. He knew she preferred sunsets over sunrises, mountains and forests over beaches. But it felt superficial, barely scraping the surface. He wanted to know more. She seemed talented, driven, but there was something else—something in the way she held herself back.

There were moments when he’d catch her smile, but it was always soft, fleeting. Like she was offering a glimpse of something deeper but never letting him get too close. It intrigued him, the way she could be so kind yet so guarded, as if she’d learned not to give too much away. It was a look he recognized, one he saw in himself sometimes, when the weight of expectations and the uncertainty of his solo career pressed too heavily on his shoulders. But with YN, it felt different. It felt like something that had been there long before she ever stepped into the studio.

Moving to New York had been her way of starting over. She’d wanted to escape the weight of her past, to carve out a life that was her own. Jeff had given her that opportunity, and even though she hadn’t been sure it was what she wanted at first, she found herself falling into the rhythm of it. The work was hard sometimes, but it felt good, like maybe she was finally building something of her own. But even here, in this new city with new faces, YN still felt that familiar pull—the instinct to keep her distance, to protect herself from getting too attached.

He wasn’t sure she’d let him in, anyway. YN was like that—careful, cautious. Maybe she always would be.

In June, a little over two months since YN started working in the studio, she and Harry had formed an easy, steadying friendship. YN wasn’t like most people in his world. She understood his music in a way that felt rare—intimately, deeply, as if she could feel the weight of each word before he even sang it. It touched him more than he could admit.

But as much as he was drawn to her, Harry could sense the distance she kept between them. It wasn’t obvious, not in a way anyone else would notice, but there was a part of YN that stayed hidden. She had a warmth to her—she was kind, smart, and always knew exactly what to say when he asked for her help. But when it came to the deeper parts of herself, the parts Harry desperately wanted to know, she stayed locked away. He saw it in the way she smiled when something hit too close to home, or the way she never let conversations stray too far from the task at hand. It was as though she’d built an invisible wall around herself, and no one—not even him—was allowed through.

But he knew better than to push. For now, their connection revolved around the music.

Sometime in early June, they were hunched over in their usual studio chairs, working on the final track of his debut album. The song had taken weeks to perfect, but they were close now—closer than they had been. From the Dining Table was raw, achingly personal and YN, somehow, had helped him shape it into something even more honest than it had started.

“What if you lean into the third verse more?” She suggested, her pen tapping the page thoughtfully. "The emotion's there, but it's like you're not letting yourself feel it fully. Especially in that second verse–maybe one day you’ll me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too. You're pulling back right when you should lean into it."

Harry stopped playing with the strings on his guitar and looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do y’mean?"

She hummed, biting her lip as she considered the words, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper. “Maybe drop the keys lower in the last chorus..” She trailed off, lost in her own thought process. She shifted in her chair, leaning forward slightly as she studied the lyrics. "It's heavy, but it could be even more vulnerable. You're singing about something really personal here, about the kind of loneliness that feels like it's eating you alive. But in the melody, it feels..safe. I think you need to make the vocals feel a bit more broken, like you're barely holding it together. Let the silence in the song do some of the work. Think about pulling back on the production, too–keep it more stripped down.” She laughed lightly, a bit sheepish. “If that makes sense.”

Harry nodded slowly, the words hanging in the air between them. She got it. She always got it. The lyrics had been twisting inside him for weeks, and it was YN’s careful guidance that had finally helped him pull them into something real, something tangible. He picked up his guitar, adjusting the chords she mentioned, and played the verse again. The notes hung heavier in the air this time, more space, more quiet.

“There.” YN murmured. “That’s what it needed—the space between the words, the silence. That's where the emotion is."

For the next few hours, they went back and forth, fine-tuning the melody and adjusting the lyrics. YN suggested cutting down the instrumentation, making it feel more intimate, like a conversation Harry was having with himself. And as the song started to take shape, Harry felt a weight lifting. It’s what he wanted for the song, it deserved this rawness, this vulnerability.

Over the next two weeks, they worked tirelessly on the track, tweaking the lyrics, adjusting the production. YN had suggested subtle changes in the arrangement—adding faint background harmonies, letting the piano take the lead in certain sections. It was her idea to introduce a low hum in the final chorus, something atmospheric that made the song feel like it was dissolving into the empty spaces of the room. Harry trusted her instincts completely by now, her intelligence and understanding of the music so sharp that he barely needed to question her advice. She had a way of knowing what the song needed, even when he couldn’t see it himself.

By the time they reached the last day of recording that track, the song had transformed into something that felt like a piece of his soul, laid bare for the world to hear. It was time to play it for the team, to record the final version that would make it onto the album. She didn’t hear it in its entirety yet, only the parts Harry would reveal that he wanted insight on.

The band was ready, gathered behind their instruments, and the rest of the team sat in the control room, waiting to hear what he had spent weeks perfecting. The studio felt heavier than usual, the air thick with anticipation. Harry glanced over at YN, who was standing by the glass that separated the studio from the control room, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. She was watching him, as she always did, but there was something different in her eyes tonight. He couldn’t place it—something softer, more vulnerable than usual.

Harry picked up his guitar, gave the band a nod, and stepped up to the mic. The first notes echoed through the room, soft and haunting. His voice followed, low and steady, each lyric pouring out an isolation he had written into the song, each verse dripping in melancholy. The room around him seemed to blur, and for a moment, it was just him, the music, and the truth of what he was singing.

“Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too.”

His voice cracked slightly on the word sorry, just as it had in practice. But this time, it felt different. More real. More final.

As the song continued, Harry’s gaze flickered over to YN. She was still standing by the glass, but something had changed. Her arms had fallen to her sides, and her eyes were fixed on him, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. It was subtle at first—a quick blink, a shift of her expression—but then he saw it. A tear slipped down her cheek, and YN quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the emotion that was overtaking her.

But she couldn’t. Not this time.

By the time the song ended, the room was filled with the soft, fading echoes of the final notes. Harry stood still, the guitar resting against his chest, his breath uneven. He watched as YN slowly stepped forward, closer to the glass, her eyes still glistening. She rested her hand gently on the pane, the only thing separating them, and gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.

It was all he needed. That nod, that single moment of unspoken approval, meant more than words ever could. She understood—she always had. But seeing her moved by the song, seeing the tears she tried so hard to hide, told Harry more about her than she’d ever let on.

For the first time, Harry felt like he had reached her core, even if just for a second. And as the team buzzed with quiet admiration for the track, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from YN. Because in that small, fragile moment, she had let her walls down. Just enough.

And Harry realized, standing there with the music still humming through his veins, that maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt something more between them. Maybe YN wasn’t as unreachable as he had once thought.

July had seemed to’ve breeze past, almost gone in a daze. It was Friday, and there would only be two more Fridays left till they would have to flip the colander pages to August. The heat of the day still mingled in the air as the studio settled into its usual weekend quiet. The crew had all left for the night, tired but satisfied after wrapping another long day of recording. The album was nearing completion, and the tension that had built up over the past few months was finally starting to lift. Harry could feel it—the sense of relief, of something monumental coming to an end—but there was still so much hanging in the air between him and YN, at least that’s what he felt.

They were alone in the lounge now, the soft glow of the low lights casting faded shadows on the walls. YN sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she sipped from a recently topped-off flute of champagne, her eyes tired but content. They had opened the bottle to celebrate finishing another track, Two Ghosts. YN wasn’t there when the production first started for this song, only there for the finalized remastering of it that finished today—and she had insisted he must celebrate, the fizzy sweetness a small reward for everything he’s been pouring into the album.

"Cheers!” Harry had laughed, clinking his glass against hers with a lopsided grin. "One more down."

He didn’t quite remember what glass he was on, but he could feel the familiar buzz of being tipsy, like he could float. Besides the lounge, the rest of the building was dark, only light seeping through was from the city outside. Harry leaned back against the arm of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, the remnants of his drink swirling lazily in his glass. He felt relaxed—more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the fact that they were finally nearing the end of the album. But it wasn't just that. It was YN, too.

And god, she looked gorgeous.

She dressed down for the day, knowing it was Friday and she could fall into bed as soon as she got home. A hoodie hung loosely over her frame, the pair of lounge shorts coming a little bit above her mid thigh. The alcohol seemed to give her eyes more of a sparkle, her skin flush—Harry wondered if alcohol could make him look as pretty as she, but he ended up on the conclusion of probably not.

“I know I said this already.” She giggled, taking a sip of the bubbly. Her smile was hazy, eyes clouded over. “But the song sounds great.” She enthusiastically sent him a thumbs up, the bottom of his feet against the bend of her knees as his legs remained sprawled out over the couch. The curly haired boy already asked if he should move to give her more space, but her dismissal was a shouted, pleading whine of no, stay! “You should be famous or something.” She sent him a wink, and he couldn’t stifle the laughter that escaped him from how slow and exaggerated she’d done it.

The lightness in the air was contagious, and they both seemed to be floating, untethered and free from the usual tension. He rested his temple against the back cushion of the sofa, his lazy grin seemingly impossible to wipe off. “Dunno, sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll jus’ start a bakery instead.” He shrugged, taking a swig of what was left in the flute after parting ways between his head and the cushion beside him. “Styles’ Pies, what d’you think?”

YN snorted, nearly spilling her champagne as she pictured it. “You? In a bakery? I don’t even think you can make toast without burning it.”

Harry’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Hey, m’great in the kitchen. You’ve just never seen me in action.”

“Oh really?” YN arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. She set her glass down on the table, waving her hand as if conducting an imaginary cooking show. “Alright, Chef Styles, what’s your signature dish? Burnt toast with a side of undercooked eggs?”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I? That was one time!”

“Ah-ha!” She teased, biting her lip to hold back another laugh. “You know, they might not even let you into the bakery with that track record. Health code violations, and all.”

“Oh, come on!” Harry huffed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually a master at making..” He paused, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Pancakes.”

YN burst into laughter again, this time nearly doubling over, gently clasping her fingers around his ankles for support. “Pancakes? Oh god, I bet you’d flip them right onto the floor.”

“Oi, that’s not true!” Harry was laughing now too, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the easy back-and-forth. YN had placed her hands back into her lap after grabbing her glass again, legs still tucked underneath her. “I’ve got skills. Just wait. I’ll cook f’you one day, and you’ll be begging for more. You’ll never want to leave m’kitchen.”

She wiped away a tear from her drunken laughter, a banter that probably would not be as entertaining if she was sober. “We’ll see about that. I’ll be your taste tester—but don’t be mad if I spit it out.”

“Oh, y’ruthless tonight, huh?” He nudged her playfully with his foot, legs still draped along the sofa. “Well, if pancakes don’t win y’over, I’ll just serenade you with some of m’songs. You won’t stand a chance.”

YN’s laughter turned into a snort as she brought the flute to her lips, taking another sip before grinning at him. “Woo me with your guitar? Play a little ditty about burnt toast?”

Harry leaned forward, dramatically mimicking strumming an invisible guitar, his expression serious as he sang, “Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two..”

YN feigned a cringe, holding her ands out in front of her as if to block the very sight of him. The tune was cute, but she would never admit that. Harry could barely keep it together as he leaned back against the sofa’s arm, rolling his eyes as she finally lowered her hands. “And I’ll have you know I worked n’a bakery in Holmes Chapel, favorite employee, too.”

“My god, aren’t you a prodigy?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side as if pretending to be bashful. “Singer, songwriter, baker of the month.”

“Y’damn right.”He tipped an imaginary hat on his head, “I contain multitudes.” He winked, a better one that YN had sent earlier, his grin wide and a little bit tipsy.

They sat in the comfortable silence that followed, both of them still chuckling under their breath, the champagne buzzing through their veins like a soft lullaby. Harry glanced over at YN, her face flushed from laughter, her body relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen before. She looked free. Happy. And it did something to his chest, a tug he couldn’t ignore.

“Hey.” he said softly, stretching his ankle ever so slightly to gently nudge her knee with his foot. “Y’having fun?”

She nodded, her smile softening as she glanced at him. “Yeah. I am.” Her voice was quieter now, the playful energy of a moment ago still lingering, but with something else creeping in. Something softer, more intimate.

Harry smiled back, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did around her. “Good, m’glad.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her words coming out slower, as if she was trying to steady herself. “You’re..not what I expected.”

Harry tilted his head, a curious smirk tugging at his lips. “What’d y’expect?”

She hummed, “Don’t know.” She said with a shrug, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on the cushion. “Someone a little more, I don’t know–untouchable? Like, y’know, the harry styles,’ the big deal. But you’re just harry styles, my friend.”

He laughed softly, playing with the hem of his bright pink shorts. “Jus’ me, huh? Guess that’s not s’bad.”

“It’s not.” She smiled, her eyes locking with his, and for a moment, something passed between them. Something heavier, like an acknowledgment of everything unspoken.

Harry shifted, suddenly aware of how close they had gotten during her revelation. His hand, which had been resting on her knee, slid a little higher, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her thigh. The playful banter was still there, but it was quieter now, replaced by a tension that neither of them could deny any longer.

“Y’know.”she said, breaking the silence with a small smile. “I still don’t believe you can make pancakes.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I should make you breakfast tomorrow morning then.”

YN’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening at his words, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Harry’s lips were on hers. She instantly melted into it, as if an instinct. However, after a beat, the palm of her hand pressed against his shoulder. Their lips slowly separated, strings of saliva snapping at the middle from their mutual departure. Her breath rose and fell rapidly, a small smile on her lips. “How are you gonna make pancakes at the st–.”

Harry had cut her off with a groan, but it was humorous, mixed with his giggles. “Y’stopped that t’get technical?”

YN shrugged before pulling him back into the kiss, unwavering, still. It was tentative for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to push away again, but she didn’t. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, lips in sync as she deepened their kiss.

The taste of the fruity champagne lingered between them, intoxicating and heady. It grew hungrier, more desperate as if months of unresolved tension had finally snapped. YN’s tongue found itself swiping a soft stripe against his bottom lip, a heavy sigh emerging from him as his fingers brushed along the hem of her hoodie, slipping his hands underneath, his palm resting on the warm curve of her waist.

“H–” She whispered against his lips, her voice breathy, almost a plea. But it wasn’t a plea to stop—it was a plea for more.

His name on her lips drive him mad. With a low grown, he shifted, pulling her into his lap in one fluid motion. Her legs straddled him, holding herself as close to him as she could, their kisses turning feverish. His large hands pulled her even closer—not a centimeter of space to be left. He parted his lips, a broken breath tumbling from his mouth as she started to roll her hips against his growing cock stuck underneath the hot pink shorts.

His ring clad fingers slip father up her hoodie, the coolness of the medal a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off the both of them. Harry tugged on the fabric, pulling it over her head in a rush, revealing the thin bralette underneath. “Fuck–” He mumbled, breath caressing her skin as his lips skimmed the bone of her jawline, placing a slow, tentative kiss right at her pulse point. “So beautiful.” He was drunk in the moment that was her—figuratively and literally—his voice distant and light, like a voice breaking through a daydream.

She rolled her hips harder against him as his hands slipped under the hem of her shorts, lips sloppily trailing her chest, her nose buried in his curls. A soft moan is drawn from her as Harry’s hands grip her ass, aiding her movements of dry humping his cock. His tongue grazed the fleshy part of her breast that threatened to spill out of her bra, a shuddering exhale brushing from her lips, right into his disheveled locks.

She hastily cups his chin, pulling him from her chest to messily kiss him again. She wanted to taste the faint peach on his tongue from the champagne, to feel the stubble above his lip tickling against her. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, her fingers running down his shirt, tugging at the hem. He smiles, parting from her to pull his shirt off. It was rushed, his chin getting caught in the collar which made laughter sit between them comfortably. YN gently helps him pull the shirt from his head. It was discarded somewhere on the floor, its whereabouts not a priority.

Their cheeks are flush, lips plump and vibrant as they fall into each other’s eyes—their giggles fading out and their heavy breaths replacing it. “I want you.” She whispered, her gaze trailing from his eyes, to his lips, along the markings of his torso, then back up again.

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers with a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

She hummed, though it sounded similar to a purr—a divinely feminine melody that made him twitch under the fabric that held him from her. “Yeah.”

He gives her a quick peck before tapping her thigh and guiding her off his lap. He looks at her as his thumb slips under the waistband of both his shorts and boxers, his glance expectant of some sort of approval or denial.

Her hands reach back behind her, unclasping the bra and letting the straps fall from her shoulders; to which he took that as his go ahead. Harry bucks his hips from the couch, tugging the clothing down his legs and letting it fall onto the floor. His cock slapped against his abdomen from the sheer force of how quickly he freed himself. It was bigger than she had expected, the head a pretty pink that glistened with precum.

He didn’t give her a chance to react for herself as he pulled along her bare waist, ushering YN back onto him. He planted kisses along her breast, the hem of her shorts sitting right against his chest, his large hands holding her inches above the cock she so desperate to fill herself up with.

His tongue encircled the bud of her nipple, one hand still gripping her ass to keep her pressed against his chest, above his length—while the other fell a tad lower, his index and middle finger slipping underneath the leg of her shorts and panties, brushing along her wet folds.

She could feel his lips spread into a smirk before he began to suck on her nipple. She buried her face into his curls, grasping onto the roots as his digits sat at the entrance of her core, heat radiating from her cunt as her arousal soaked the tips of his fingers. She whimpers, wanting to grind down on them and fill her up until his knuckles sat harshly against her folds, but he held her in place—the grip on the soft part of her ass feeling rougher. He looks up at her through his eyelashes, though her face is hidden in his hair, he still revels in it. “Y’that desperate for it, hm?”

She nods against the top of his head, eyes squeezing shut. “Yes, Harry.” She whined, fingers tightly laced between his locks. “Fuck–please, I need it.”

His mouth finds its way back to her tits as he eases his thick fingers into her cunt, tauntingly slow. Her walls fluttered around him, a soft moan escaping her as he pumped his fingers in and out, the sound of her wetness was hot, filthy—the way it bounced around the room. It only made him harder knowing that no one else will know what happened here besides them.

He curls his digits into a spot that makes her hips buck harder against his chest, a yelp emitting from the top of her throat, which he takes as a moment to smack the fleshy part of her ass, it wasn’t very hard, as if he was testing the waters to try to understand what she needed. Judging from the noises she made, and how her bum seemed to push a slight wiggle into the palm of his hand, he figured she liked it.

He pumps his fingers faster, his knuckles almost pounding against her core as he sneaks the opportunity to spank her again. A string of profanities and whiny pleas fell from her, her hands falling to a grip on his shoulders as he coaxed her to the brink of coming on just his fingers alone.

His lips are sloppy against her chest, more focused on how his digits buried themselves into her pussy. Her words aren’t coherent, a ringing faint in her ears as she tightens around him, her hips erupting into a shudder as she rides out her orgasm. He lightens the grip from her bum, allowing her to roll her hips with his fingers still deep inside her, basking in how she tried to milk herself of every drop she could.

Once her movements still, he slowly pulls out of her, the two making eye contact as he brings the two fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them prettily, licking her arousal from the source.

Her breaths were heavy, eyes darkened as she watched the dirtiest thing play out in front of her. His eyes flutter to a close, a smirk speaking across his lips as if it was the most heavenly thing he’s tasted; she already feels the knot in her tummy tightening again.

She pulls him into a kiss, meeting each other harshly as she tastes herself from his lips. His hands brush along the small of her back, then to her hips, slipping the shorts and panties down her legs and off her ankles with an awkward, momentary shift in position to do so. She lowers herself as much as he’d allow, his lips stilling as he feels her heat against the head of his cock. He pulls away slightly, forehead against hers with a small flicker of disappointment on his features. “I don’t have a condom.” His voice low and raspy, thick with lust as he held her against him once again, unable to fill herself as she desired.

Her chest rose and fell heavily, eyes meeting his. “M’on the pill.” She whispered, voice breathy and light from her previous orgasm.

His eyebrows furrowed, gaze unwavering in hers. This is something he normally would never do, fucking someone unprotected. But the way his cock ached for her was damn near painful, and he trusted her. A friend he’d come to cherish, although in the back of his mind, he wanted her more than a friend. He darted his eyes between hers and the way her tummy fluttered with heavy breath. His glance was expectant again, silently needing approval to even think of continuing.

She wiggled her hips in his grasp once more, her a whiny plea a soft mutter—and it’s all he needed to hear. She sank onto his length, a slow strain befell them from how he had to ease his cock into her pussy, stretching her out with every upward motion of his hips.

The feeling of him filling her was addicting to both, pleasured sighs and moans emitting from each of them as she adjusted around his length, sinking down the shaft completely. Only a beat had past before she started to roll her hips into him, adjusting to the feeling of him. One hand sat sprawled against her back, will the other remained on her ass. Harry’s head leaned along the edge of the couch, watching through half-lidded eyes at the way her tits moved as she began to bounce on his length, having him draw sharp inhale at the feeling. “Jus’ like that.” He groaned, the hand on her back and bum guiding her movements. “Good girl–y’feel so good, jus–” He cuts off his own sentence with a moan, his head falling forward now, just a bit. His forehead grazed along her shoulder—barely—every time she’d bob up the length of his cock. “Like that, bunny–fuck.” His voice was breathy, listening to the pretty moans that escaped her and the way her cunt sounded riding his cock.

His hand slid down her back, both gripping her ass a bit roughy as he guided her movements with more force. Her lips fell agape, a whimper falling out now and then as Harry held her weight as if it was nothing, moving her up and down his thick cock with an ease that made her cry out his name.

He pushed and pulled her onto him greedily, her head falling onto his shoulder as he rested his chin on hers, watching as he pounded her onto the base of his length. The sharp sounds of skin against skin mixed in with their moans, a cacophony of their pleasure filling the lounge.

He loosened his grip from her bum, smacking her ass as his other hand gathered her hair into his fist, jerking her head back to force a semblance of eye contact. The palm of his other hand rested over her thigh, continuing to guide her movements though the momentum from her own hands against his shoulders was enough.

He knew he was close, and the way her noises got louder, how her cunt tightened around him—Harry knew she was close, too. The tiny fraction of him that held an ounce of logic through his drunken pleasure told him to pull out, but it fell to the back of his mind, silenced with the sound of his own moans and the way his length twitched, the knot in his belly rounding tightly. “Look at me.” He forced through a grunt, his toes curling against the carpet and his jaw tightened as he tried to stall his release.

The grip on his shoulders was lethal, though the only thing he could feel was her pussy fluttering around him. Her hair was still balled tightly in his fist, craning her head into a position where their foreheads were only a few inches away—the only thing that would keep her from looking if she closed her eyes. She wouldn’t though.

His hand pushed harder against her thigh, both of their skin flushed a pink from the force of the contact of the way her ass and thighs slapped along his pelvis. “Say my name–” His groan was guttural, as if he was teetering on the edge of losing his composure. With his grip still in her hair, he pressed her forehead into his, both slick with a gleam of sweat. “When you come—say it.” He grunted, eyes meeting hers once again. “Or I won’t let you.”

She felt her legs to tremble, her lips parting as the cries and whimpers of his name escaped her like a mantra. His chest rose and fell unevenly, pressing her forehead into hers further as they met their release simultaneously. Thick ropes of come fill her cunt to the point where it drips out around him. Their breaths are heavy and quick, his hands soft against the skin of her legs as they tremble, pressing his lips atop her shoulders as she sinks into his chest.

*

The next morning arrived in a hazy blur. The sky was gray as it prepared itself for a summer thunderstorm. The pitter-patter of rain hitting the window caused him to stir first, a wince from feeling the stiffness in his neck before anything else. His back was pressed awkwardly into the couch, his arm draped around something soft and warm. He blinked his eyes open, the dull light from the stormy sky offering not very much of anything as it bled through the blinds. The familiar scent of the studio mixed with something more intoxicating—YN.

He nudged his chin down to glance at the girl curled up on his chest, his shirt from last night adorning her frame as soft snores fell from her mouth. Their legs were tangled together underneath a thin throw blanket with Christmas patterns he didn’t remember grabbing before passing out. The events of last night came in a rushed haze from the smell of the champagne on his own breath. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but the movement pulled YN from her slumber. She let out a small groan before nuzzling deeper into his bare chest, not wanting to let go of the warmth.

The smell of Harry’s cologne caused her eyes to peel open, her brow furrowing in confusion as she took in her surroundings.

“Morning.” Harry had rasped out, voice still thick with sleep.

She blinked, and then placed her palms against his chest to push herself up. She glanced around the studio with the turn of her head, then back at Harry with an unreadable expression. Her hair was disheveled, Harry’s discarded shirt hung loosely around her—she could feel the thickness of his come seeping out of her, pooling in her underwear and forming a dampened spot. “Oh my god.”

He winced involuntarily, and this time it wasn’t from the ache in his neck. “Um.” He paused, voice cautious. “Yeah.”

YN bit her lip, sitting up fully as she slipped into a spot between his thighs. The cushion was soft against her bum as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Yeah.” She echoed his words, unsure of what to say.

Harry had scoot up slightly, the small of his back against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his neck, sighing from the crick he developed for sleeping in such an awkward position. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, her eyes still a bit dazed from the remnants of sleep and the weight of their shared moment. YN offered him a small smile, “Mhm.” She hummed, but an uncertainty glimmered along the edge of her pupil, unsure of what came next. “Not exactly used to waking up like this, I guess–but I’m okay.”

He nodded slowly, though a frown threatened to spread across his lips. He reached out hesitantly, palm resting on her knee as he sighed. “You regret it?” He asked, though it sounded rhetorical.

Her face seemed to soften at his words, sincerity and a hint of hurt evident in his expression. A furrow formed in her forehead as she shook her head, placing a hand on top of the one he sat on her knee. “No, H. ‘Course not.” She paused, shifting in her seat before forcing herself to stand, his hand slipping from her knee back into his own lap. It felt cold, and he knew she was pulling away. She very quickly stripped Harry’s shirt off—to which he averted his eyes to the ground—shrugging back on her own hoodie and shorts.

“YN.” Harry mumbled, his voice shaking as he pulled his shirt back over his head. She seemed distracted, slipping her shoes back on and putting her phone into the hoodie pocket before she trailed back toward Harry, gazing down at where he sat on the couch. He had looked at her the way he always seemed to look at her, eyes full of things that would stay unsaid. “What does this mean?”

She kneeled before him almost immediately, combing her fingers through his hair in a moment of comfort. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” Her voice was soft, kind, as if that was the thing he wanted to hear. “We’re friends, this won’t make it weird, okay?”

He could feel his heart sink into his stomach as he nodded with slight trepidation, wishing she would just open herself up and allow him to hold her, to show her that he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t regret it, never ever.” She murmured, ducking her head down a bit to meet his gaze that seemed to lower at her words. “I swear it.”

He forced a smile, her hand pulling away from his curls—the curls she previously moaned into, the hair that she tangled her fingers in from an orgasm that crashed over her like a wave. He swallowed dryly as she back stood up, still not looking away from him. A defeat settled over him, an impatient longing as he realized if he was ever going to have a chance with the woman before him, he’d have to wait. He didn’t know what pain she held, the things she guarded so strongly, but he knew she would have to admit to herself first that she was worthy of something good. Harry parted his lips, taking a deep breath to keep his voice steady. “Stay friends?” He asked expectantly, holding out a pinky to her.

She smiled, a sad one, however. She wanted to wrap him into her arms and apologize for making the choice to walk away, but she felt it was best. YN believed she wasn’t what he deserved, and it would be in his best interest to pretend like everything went back to normal. She lowered her hand, intertwining her pinky with his. “Stay friends.”

On August fourth, The studio was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the late afternoon sun filtering through the one window in the control room. Everyone, besides YN and Harry, went out for their lunch break. Harry had asked if she would help her tweak the soon-to-be third track on the album, Carolina.

Since waking up from the sex they had in the lounge, they hadn’t brought it up—though it didn’t disappear. There would be moments where it loomed over them, heavy and unrelenting. It took everything in them not to bridge that specific gap, took everything in Harry not to bend her over the soundboard to feel her again, took everything in him not to fall to his knees before her, hugging her legs while he cried about how he was helplessly falling for her.

It was the hottest day of the year, and though the air conditioner was humming in a low buzz, the air was thick with warmth. The kind of still, lingering heat that made everything feel slow and hazy, like time itself had paused for a moment. Harry picked up his guitar, fingers brushing over the strings, testing the familiar weight of it in his hands. The sound of the first strum seemed to melt into the air, easy, relaxed, as if the room itself was humming along to the rhythm.

She kneeled down, across from the spot Harry sat on the floor, guitar in lap. She pressed on certain strings on specific parts of the neck, eyes flickering between Harry and the instrument expectantly. They both knew the notes and the chords, the tone it could give. “Try those notes.”She murmured, moving Harry’s Hand from where it sat on the neck to where she wanted his fingers to be. Her touch was delicate, and if Harry didn’t reground himself he would’ve forgot what was happening all together. “Lean into the groove more?” Her words were laced with a light chuckle as she stood up, looking back down at the brunette on the floor. “Loosen up a bassline, could add some layered harmonies, something subtle, but it'll give the track more depth."

Harry's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement that always seemed to come alive when YN shared her thoughts. She had this uncanny way of making the most complex ideas sound simple. He nodded eagerly, strumming a few playful chords, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty studio. "Yeah, that's it.” He whispered to himself excitedly, already hearing the song in his head. He began playing, the cords, melody bright and carefree, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings.

The atmosphere shifted almost instantly—no longer weighed down by deadlines or pressure, but filled with something light. Harry stood up without a word, the grin never leaving his face as he strummed the revisioned tune, the guitar hanging casually from his shoulder as he waltzed across the room, his voice bouncing with the light-hearted lyrics. The brunette’s footsteps were lazy, carefree, his long legs carrying him in wide, exaggerated circles as he moved with the rhythm, his laughter spilling out between the lyrics. It was easy—so easy—that the line between the song and the moment blurred.

“She’s a good girl.”

his voice bright and full of mischief as he twirled past her, catching her eye. He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful challenge, daring her to join in.

YN couldn’t help herself, he was infectious . She laughed, the sound so genuine and pure it filled the air. She pushed away from the soundboard, and before she could even think of hesitation, she was dancing and hopping around in time to the music, letting herself get lost along with him.

“Such a good girl”

She really was, like when he buried himself between her legs a few weeks ago.

The hem of her dainty sundress swept around her shins in a slow, lazy twirl. Her laughter mixed with the sound of the guitar, light and unguarded, like the weight of the world had lifted, just for this one moment.

Harry’s voice followed her as he floated around, his fingers never missing a beat. The melody was effortless, the chords bright and warm like the fading summer light that filled the room. His gaze flicked toward her every few seconds, catching the way she moved, her arms outstretched as she spun in gentle circles, her hair catching the golden light in soft waves.

The whole scene felt like something out of time, like they had stepped into an old, grainy film reel—faded sun, carefree laughter, and the kind of simplicity that made everything else fade into the background. There was no rush, no pressure, just the music and the way they moved through it together.

Harry kept playing, his voice growing louder, more animated, as he circled back to her, his laughter echoing in the small space. He swayed, leaning into the guitar as he strummed, almost tripping over a cable but catching himself at the last second with a dramatic flourish. YN continued her movements, her arms floating through the air, soft and unhurried, like she was dancing with the music itself.

And then, in one smooth motion, Harry waltzed closer, standing just a few feet away from her as he played the final chorus. His smile was wide, eyes bright with the joy of the moment, and YN met his gaze with the same carefree energy, spinning one last time before she collapsed against the stool, breathless from her giggles.

The last chord hung in the air for a moment longer, lingering like the final rays of sunlight spilling through the window. The room was still humming with the energy they’d created, the echoes of their laughter and the bright notes of the guitar lingering in the walls. Harry let the guitar slide gently to his side, leaning against the stool as he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with YN’s, her face flushed and glowing. He was grinning, the kind of grin that reached his eyes and made his dimples crater.

For a second, everything felt perfect, untouched by the noise of the outside world. It was just the two of them, the fading summer light, and the echo of a song that hadn’t yet been recorded but already felt like it was carved into their shared memory.

All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

She was perched on her chair now, her legs crossed, still smiling from their little impromptu dance. She glowed with the warmth of the sun filtering in through the window. The carefree, playful energy between them began to settle, but the air didn’t lose its charge. Instead, something softer slipped into the space between them, a kind of comfortable quiet as they both let the last traces of laughter fade away.

Harry wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing back a few stray curls as he looked over at her, the easy grin still tugging at his lips. The guitar rested against his knee as he sat down, but he didn’t play, didn’t move. He was just watching her now, the way her fingers traced absentminded circles on the edge of the stool, the way her gaze was still bright with that unguarded laughter. It was rare to see her like this—unguarded, fully present—and Harry found himself caught in the moment, not wanting it to end.

Just as that night in July, when we pulled her into her chest to sleep for the night—when it felt like he could call her his as he wrapped his arms around her, basking in their afterglow.

YN let out a soft sigh, the last of her breathless laughter leaving her, and when she looked at him, her expression shifted. Something quieter, more serious. The playful glint in her eyes softened into something almost reverent, like she was seeing him—really seeing him.

“You know, Harry.” She smiled, her voice gentle but firm, like she was about to say something important. “This album–” There was a pause as she exhaled through her nose, but it was light from her enthused realization. “It’s going to go down as a classic. It’s real. You’re real. Your talent, the rawness of it—it’s something people won’t forget.”

The words landed between them like a weight, soft but undeniable. Harry felt his heart skip, his smile faltering just slightly as her words settled in. He’d heard compliments before—so many, often thrown around casually—but this… this was different. The sincerity in her voice, the way her eyes held his, unflinching, unwavering, as if she wasn’t just saying something kind, but something true.

For a moment, the room seemed to shift around him. It was like the air grew thicker, the light softer, the world quieter. He felt exposed, in a way he hadn’t expected, like her words had peeled back a layer he’d been hiding under, a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. The compliment wasn’t just about the music, wasn’t just about the work they’d been doing. It felt personal, like she saw him—not the version of him the world saw, not Harry, the soloist, but him, Harry. The guy trying to figure it all out, pouring every piece of himself into this album, hoping that it would matter.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and for a second, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He thought about telling her thank you.

He thought about remaining speechless.

No one had told him something like that in a long time—not like this, not with this kind of weight. He could feel his chest tightening, his pulse thrumming a little too fast, the gravity of her words sinking deeper than he thought they would.

He thought about her words.

He thought about her.

“YN, I—” He started to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe she understood him more than he’d ever realized. Maybe that was why her words felt so heavy, why they struck him in a way nothing else had. Because they came from her.

He thought about how much he wanted to say he was starting to fall in love with her.

But before he could say anything else, the door to the studio swung open with a loud creak, breaking the moment like a pebble dropped into still water. The team was back, their voices filling the room as they filed in, the soft hum of conversation and the shuffle of papers cutting through the silence that had wrapped around him and YN.

“Alright, alright, back to it.” Jeff chuckled, ever the dad friend, clapping his hands as he made his way toward the control board. The mood shifted, the studio returning to its usual buzz of activity, the easy rhythm of work settling back into place.

Harry blinked, the spell of the moment breaking as he straightened up, shaking off the sudden heaviness in his chest. YN gave him a small, knowing smile, her eyes still holding a trace of the warmth from before, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She’d already said what mattered.

She knew the look in Harry’s eye.

She had thought about how much she missed him.

She thought about how much that scared her.

With a soft sigh, Harry adjusted the guitar on his lap, nodding as the team gathered around, discussing admin details, technical tweaks, and publicity strategies for the album’s release. The room was buzzing again, the easy laughter and lightness of earlier replaced with the steady hum of work. But Harry’s mind was still lingering on what YN had said, the quiet sincerity of her words looping in the back of his mind.

As the evening stretched on, the work became more mechanical—emails, calls, planning—but Harry’s thoughts kept drifting back to her. He couldn’t shake the way she drifted around the room earlier, like a dandelion wisp dancing in the wind. How her laugh sounded so pretty he wanted to put it in a song. How real it had felt when she’d looked at him and told him what his music would become. It was a compliment, sure, but it was more than that. It was a belief. And for the first time in a long while, Harry felt like someone saw him exactly as he was, and believed in him all the same.

That day at the studio soon began to draw to a close, the golden light from earlier now softening into deep ambers and long shadows. The room, once buzzing with activity, had fallen into a more relaxed rhythm as the team packed up their things, saying their goodbyes with tired but satisfied smiles. The project was moving, inching closer to the finish line.

Harry leaned back, watching from the corner of the room as the last of the crew made their way to the door. The sounds of zippers closing and bags being slung over shoulders filled the space, each member of the team calling out their see-you-laters, their voices fading as they spilled out into the hallway. One by one, they disappeared, until the door swung shut with a final, quiet click, leaving just Harry and YN behind.

The silence settled in slowly, wrapping itself around the room like a warm, familiar blanket. It was the kind of silence that felt more like a presence than an absence, thick and heavy with something unspoken. Harry ran his fingers over the neck of his guitar one last time before placing it back on its stand, the metal strings catching the fading light. His movements were slow, almost deliberate, like he was trying to hold on to the quiet a little longer.

He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that YN was still at the small table near the edge of the room, shuffling her things about. She was moving slower than usual, her hands hovering over her notebook, lingering on the scattered papers like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Harry chuckled softly, the sound breaking the stillness.

“Need help with all that?” he asked, his voice airy, teasing in a way that felt natural between them.

But YN didn’t respond right away. She kept her eyes down, focused on her things, but her movements were stiffer now, less fluid. There was something different in the way she stood there, something quiet but undeniably present—an undercurrent of tension Harry couldn’t quite place. He felt the air shift, that familiar warmth between them suddenly giving way to something more solemn, more guarded.

“YN?” Harry asked, his voice softer now, his smile fading as he stepped toward her. “Everything alright?”

She looked up then, her eyes catching his for the briefest moment before she quickly glanced away again, like she couldn’t hold the gaze for too long. Her expression was calm, but there was a tightness in her jaw, something held back, something she wasn’t sure how to say. She let out a soft sigh, the weight of whatever was on her mind finally beginning to show.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She started, her voice low and measured, like she was carefully choosing each word. “August thirty-first.” She bit the inside of her lip momentarily. “It’ll be my last day here. My internship—it’s ending.”

The words landed between them like a quiet echo, reverberating in the space left behind by the day’s fading energy. Harry felt the weight of them settle in his chest, heavier than he had expected. He knew the internship wouldn’t last forever—of course, he’d known that—but hearing it out loud, hearing it from her, made it feel real in a way he hadn’t prepared for.

For a moment, Harry didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her, trying to make sense of the sudden tightness in his throat. It felt like the air had been knocked out of him, but he didn’t quite understand why. She was still there, right in front of him, but the idea of her leaving, of this chapter ending, hit him harder than he thought it would.

“Your last day.” He repeated quietly, more to himself than to her, his brows knitting together slightly.

YN nodded, but she didn’t look at him. She busied herself with the papers in her hands, though it was clear she wasn’t really doing anything—just moving things around to avoid the heaviness of the conversation. The atmosphere had changed, charged with an unsaid emotion. It reminded Harry of the way people talk about those long, hot August nights, the kind where the sky is still bright at 9pm, but you can feel autumn creeping in around the edges, making the warmth feel both infinite and fleeting.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned against the control board. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Part of him wondered if it was because of the sex. A part of him wanted to ask her to stay, to find some reason to keep her there, keep things as they were. But he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t the way the world worked, no matter how much you wanted to freeze a moment in time.

“How come?” He finally asked, his voice quieter now, softer in a way that mirrored the dimming light of the room.

YN shrugged slightly, her shoulders barely moving. “I’ve known for a bit. It’s temporary, only a summer internship.”

Harry nodded, understanding, though the weight in his chest hadn’t eased. It was hard for him, realizing that after all the late nights, the music, the moments shared, things would change. And YN—who had always kept that quiet distance, who never let anyone too close—wasn’t just leaving the studio. She was leaving him, even if she didn’t mean it that way.

The room felt smaller now, the silence between them growing heavier with every passing second. Harry looked down at his hands, tracing the worn edges of the soundboard with his thumb, searching for something to say that wouldn’t feel like an end.

“I’ll miss you.” He admitted solemnly, the words simple, but honest. They hung in the air like a truth too big for him to admit, they hung in the air like three words she wouldn’t have believed if he said it.

YN smiled then, a small, bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She still looked guarded, her walls firmly in place, but there was something soft in the way she glanced up at him, like maybe she felt it too—the finality of the moment they were both trying to avoid.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

And for a brief, fragile second, it was just them again, standing in the soft glow of the studio lights, the world outside forgotten. The weight of time, of change, of things left unsaid—all of it hung between them, heavy but delicate, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table.

Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say more, to ask her something, anything to keep her there a little longer. But before he could find the words, the moment slipped away, the weight of reality settling back in as YN turned away, gathering the last of her things.

The light from the hallway spilled into the room as she reached for the door, casting a long shadow across the studio floor. Harry watched as she stepped toward it, his heart heavy with the knowledge that everything was about to change, whether he was ready for it or not.

YN hesitated in the hallway, every nerve in her body begging her to leave. Her heart sat heavy in her chest, tongue in cheek as she turned back around, opening the door back up with trembling fingers. She stood in the doorway, cracked enough for her frame to linger. A stripe of the nauseating white light of the hallway waned over him and he remained in the same place she had left him moments ago. “Harry.” She muttered, her voice low, almost weary. There was something in the way she said his name, something different—like maybe she wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

He perked up, his tummy doing flips. The pearly glow behind her made her seem ethereal—angelic. “Yeah?” His tone gentle but searching, like he was trying to pull something unspoken out of the quiet between them.

She looked at him then, fully, her eyes catching the last remnants of the dim light in the studio. For a moment, the guardedness slipped, just a fraction, and Harry could see something underneath—something vulnerable, something that felt a little like goodbye.

“I’m really glad I got to work with you.” YN’s voice was delicate, her words carrying a weight that made it threaten to crack. “This–this has been more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

She was referring to more than just the music and the internship.

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know what to say to that—didn’t know how to tell her that she wasn’t just some random, throwaway intern to him, that these past few months had meant more than just music and late-night studio sessions. She had become a part of his world in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and now that she was leaving, it felt like something vital was being pulled away, leaving him standing on unsteady ground.

“Me too.” He confessed, though he could’ve said more. Harry’s voice was quieter than he intended, his hand running over his face from a feeling he couldn’t admit.

The words hung in the air, soft but honest. YN had seen parts of him that few people did—had understood his music, his vulnerabilities, in a way that made him feel seen. And now, the thought of her not being there—of her walking out that door and leaving all of this behind—made him feel strangely untethered.

YN’s lips curved into a small, almost wistful smile. She looked down at her shoes for a moment, the tip of her sneaker nudging a stray cable on the floor. “I didn’t mean to stay so late.” A weak attempt at lightening the moment. But her eyes betrayed her, the flicker of something deeper still lingering behind her words.

Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between them just slightly. “You know.”Harry mumbled, his tone lighter now, though the heaviness between them still lingered. “This feels a lot like a goodbye when y’have a few weeks still.”

YN glanced up at him, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She let out a breathy chuckle, though her voice sounded distant, like she was already somewhere else in her mind.

Silence settled between them again, thicker this time, like the room itself was holding its breath. Harry wanted to say more—wanted to ask her what came next for her, wanted to tell her that maybe things didn’t have to end here—tell her to stay. But he didn’t. The words caught in his throat, tangled up with all the emotions he wasn’t sure how to name.

After a moment, YN shifted her bag on her shoulder and let out a soft breath. “I should get going.” She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s late.”

Harry nodded, but his chest felt heavy, like he didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Yeah. Right. Let me know you got home okay.”

YN’s smile was small, almost bittersweet. She began to turn in the doorway, her movements slow, like the action of leaving pained her. He sent her a small wave as she gave him one last glance, the door softly clicking shut behind her.

The summer had begun to slip away quietly, the August sun sitting lower in the sky at earlier hours. The air was different that day—thicker, heavier with the weight of something ending. There was a finality to the way the light filtered through the studio’s window, soft and hazy, like the last days of vacation in an old photograph. Everything felt suspended, as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Harry had known this day was coming. He’d tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the album, on the music, on the thousand little tasks that came with putting it all together. But today was different. No matter how much he had tried to push it out of his mind, the date had circled back around, staring him in the face.

August thirty-first.

YN’s last day.

He arrived at the studio earlier than usual, the streets outside still quiet, the early morning light pale and soft against the burning. The usual buzz of excitement—the thrill of working on his debut album—was muted, overshadowed by the knowledge that by the end of the day, YN would be gone.

As he set his guitar in the corner of the room, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. She was already there, sitting at her usual spot by the control board, her notebook open in front of her, a pen poised between her fingers. She was focused, scribbling something down, but her movements were slower, more deliberate today. Harry could tell. She knew it too.

The room was quieter than usual, the hum of the equipment the only sound as he walked over to her. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt like there were a hundred things left unsaid, hanging in the air between them, waiting to be acknowledged. But neither of them said anything. Not yet.

“Morning.” Harry said softly, settling down into his chair across from her. He didn’t dare to greet her with good morning, because it really wasn’t. Not today. He didn’t know when it would be again.

“Morning.” She murmured, voice almost resigned, not looking up from her notebook. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Harry felt his chest tighten.

They spent the morning working in the usual rhythm, going over the last details of the album. It should have been a day like any other, but there was a tension under the surface, something neither of them could quite shake. Every moment felt like it was leading up to something, like the end was creeping closer with each passing minute.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, the studio had filled with the usual buzz of people—producers, assistants, technicians—all busy, all focused. But Harry’s mind was somewhere else. He kept glancing over at YN, watching the way she moved around the studio, the way she interacted with everyone, like it was just another day. But he could see it in the way she lingered on certain tasks, the way her eyes scanned the room as if she was memorizing it.

It was nearing the end of the day when the rest of the team began wrapping up, gathering their things, making plans for the next session. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting the room in that soft, golden light that made everything feel both beautiful and bittersweet. Harry watched as the others said their goodbyes to YN, one by one, thanking her for her work, telling her to stay in touch. She smiled, gracious as ever, but there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were already one foot out the door.

And then, it was just the two of them.

The door clicked shut behind the last person, and suddenly the room felt much bigger, the space between them much quieter. Harry stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, watching the light fade as the day slipped into evening. YN was still by the control board, slowly packing up her things—her notebook, her pens, the little scraps of paper she’d scribbled ideas on over the past few months. Her movements were slow, deliberate, holding onto to the moment just a little longer.

Harry turned to face her, his pulse thrumming a little too fast. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, not really. He had spent the last few weeks trying to avoid thinking about it, but now, standing there in the dimming light, he realized he still didn’t want her to leave.

“Are you all set?” He asked quietly, his voice sounding too casual for how much dread he felt inside.

YN glanced up, her eyes meeting his for the first time all day. There was a flicker of something there—something that matched the weight in his chest—but she quickly looked away, zipping up her bag with a small nod.

“I guess so.” She forced a smile, standing up from her chair. “I think that’s everything.”

The silence that followed felt as if nails scratched an old chalkboard, stretching out between them like a line drawn in the sand. Harry took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, trying to find the words he hadn’t been able to say all day. He watched as she slung her bag over her shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly over the edge of the soundboard one last time, like she was saying goodbye to something bigger than just the room.

Harry wanted to ask her to stay, wanted to tell her that things didn’t have to end here—that maybe, just maybe, there was more for them beyond this room, beyond this summer. But he couldn’t. He knew her too well by now, knew that she had already made up her mind.

“I guess this is goodbye then.” She frowned, eyes glasses over.

His stomach lurched. She had his number, of course, but Harry didn’t know if she would keep in contact. He didn’t know she would erase the summer from her mind to ease her heart. Harry swallowed hard, the lump in his throat causing him to wince. “Goodbye, YN.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The room was bathed in the last traces of sunshine, everything feeling suspended in time. And then, slowly, YN stepped toward the door, her fingers brushing the handle. She paused, glancing back at him one last time, her expression unreadable.

And he caught himself. The all too familiar lump in his throat at a dull ache, the tip of his nose tickling as he felt tears well up. His feet moved faster than he could think, just a blink of time, and his hand was wrapped around her forearm, pulling YN away from the door. “That’s it?” He asked, his cheeks flushing red and his voice cracked. “That’s all?”

She frowned, her nostrils flaring as she willed away her tears. She adjusted the tote on her shoulder, averting her gaze from Harry to the wall behind him.

“Stay.” He pleaded, she only shook her head.

Stray tears fell from his eyes, heartbroken. “I can have them extend your internship, or something—please.”

Her eyes met his again, stomach twisting at his tears. “Harry that’s a hand out.” She muttered, sighing with a sadness she tried to push away. “I have to move forward.”

He sniffled, lighting placing his hand on her cheek as he brought her into a kiss. His tears made his lips wet, nose too stuffy to breathe through it—but he didn’t care. He figured this was goodbye, for a while.

Her lips were stilled against his until she melted into it, but it was fleeting. She placed her hand upon the one he had on her cheek, removing it as she pulled her face away. She intertwined her fingers with his, placing a few soft kisses to his knuckles.

He only stood there, lips quivering with tears that were unable to stop. As she began to loosen the grip on his hand, putting his arm back to his side, an audible cry left his mouth. It wasn’t loud, barely above a whisper, but it was there. “Y’pinky promised me.” He shook his head, “That we would stay friends.” He took a deep breath, wiping away some of his tears. “But I know you’re gonna disappear on me.”

This time she let her tears fall, taking a step away—the guilt was allconsiming. “Take care of yourself, H.”

And just like that, she was gone as quick as she came.

But that was two months ago, and Harry was right—she barely kept in contact with him. He tried not to take it personally for a while, seeing as she didn’t update her socials as much either. She disappeared just like a snuffed out flickered flame of a candle.

She would respond occasionally, curious to know if he was okay, how the album was going. It was always fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

But he wasn’t fine, it wasn’t fine. He missed her, Harry felt that she broke their promise. And he wanted to be angry, to block her from his mind, but he couldn’t.

He was planning to fly to LA to finish the rest of the album in late September, but couldn’t do it. He remained in New York, not ready to let go of the many things created in that studio.

It was two in the morning as he stared at the bright glare of his phone, the recently sent attachment of the final cut of Carolina staying the dismal state of delivered.

He knew she had her read receipts on, which is why he didn’t swipe away from their messages—heart thudding against his chest as he waited to see if status would ever change to read.

Of course, undeniably so, the song was about another girl. But now it felt like a contradictory, because the only thing he thought about when listening to it was YN.

He knew now that he loved her, that he was in love with her the minute she sent her nod of approval for the From the Dining Table recording.

He was a walking joke to the saying of, she fell first, he fell harder—because he fell first, and then fell even harder.

Harry groaned, shutting his phone off and letting it slip into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed. The heel of his palm sat against his eyes, the pressure allowing for the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns to play on the inside of his eyelids.

He wondered if slamming his head against the wall would feel better than the ache of heartbreak.

However, he didn’t want to test that theory out. He’ll let it remain as a hypothesis for now.

His hands brushed down to his sides, his vision fading back to normal as he stared at the ceiling. He wanted to see if he could go to sleep, maybe even watch a movie—but his phone vibrated against his thigh and he swore the world stopped spinning on its axis for a beat.

He hesitated to look, if it was another weather notification he would probably lose his mind.

But he sat up anyway, grimacing as he clicked the power button, dreading the possible sight of the familiar blue icon.

Yn: everything i imagined it to be and more

Yn: forever proud of you harry styles

His shoulders faltered, a frown settling upon his lips.

h: I miss you.

YN stared at the message, lips parted. She still sat on the bathroom counter where she had been for the last ten minutes, smooshed close to the mirror in attempt to shape her eyebrows.

But as soon as she saw the song attachment pop up three minutes ago, the tweezers remained in its clattered state in the sink.

When the song emitted from her phone she couldn’t help but smile, she swear she could’ve floated. And then she cried.

h: I have 2 more songs to finalize before we send it through to be released next year.

h: Miss picking your brain.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a pause in her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her wanted to respond right away, to fill the silence with words, to close the gap between them that had grown wider with every passing day since she left. But the other part of her—the part that had been protecting her heart all these months—wanted to stay distant, to keep things as they were, safely tucked away in the past.

YN sighed, running a hand through her hair as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The one who had walked out of the studio with a heavy heart and the quiet resolve to move forward, to start anew. But that resolve was wavering now, and Harry’s words were making it impossible to ignore the ache she’d been trying to avoid.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

h: Still time to come back, you know. We could finish the album together.

Her heart clenched at the invitation. She could picture him, sitting in the dim light of his apartment, maybe lying in bed, the soft glow of his phone the only thing lighting up his face. She imagined the look in his eyes as he typed the words, that same softness she had seen in him so many times before—when they worked late into the night, when he caught her staring too long, when he let his guard down just enough for her to see the vulnerability underneath.

But she had walked away for a reason. She knew what it would do to her—how easy it would be to fall back into the rhythm of working with Harry, of getting lost in his music, in him. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the intensity of what lingered between them, the unspoken connection that had grown stronger with every conversation, every glance, every laugh shared.

She didn’t know if she wanted to take the risk to be left again.

h: Please. Just think about it.

Her fingers trembled as she typed, mouth ran dry. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew she couldn’t leave him hanging.

Yn: i’ll think about it

It was short, maybe too short, but it was all she could offer in that moment. She stared at the message for a long time before hitting send, her stomach twisting with the uncertainty of what came next.

On the other end, Harry stared at his phone, his heart sinking as he read her reply. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. It was something in between, something that left him in limbo, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure would ever come.

He sat there in the silence of his apartment, the city outside moving on as it always did. He wanted to see her again, wanted to finish what they’d started, not just with the music, but with whatever had been building between them all those months. But he knew he couldn’t push her. YN was careful, guarded, and he had learned that the hard way. She had her reasons for keeping her distance, reasons she had never fully shared with him.

But still, he hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come back. That maybe, for once, she’d take a chance.

And so he waited, the phone resting in his lap, the weight of the unsaid words heavy in the room around him.

The days passed slowly after that, each one blending into the next as Harry focused on finishing the album. He threw himself into the work, pouring all of his energy into the final tracks, refining the sound, changing some lyrics, adding new elements.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The songs were good—great, even—but without YN’s input, without her presence in the studio, it all felt a little hollow. He missed her—missed her laugh, missed the way she’d furrow her brow when she was deep in thought, missed the way she made him feel like he didn’t have to be Harry Styles all the time. With her, he was just Harry. And that was enough.

He loved her.

He hadn’t heard from her since that night. No messages, no calls. It was like she had disappeared all over again, slipping out of his life as quietly as she had entered it.

It was November sixteenth when his phone buzzed again, a message lighting up the screen. The sky was dull, a harsh breeze whipping around the branches of trees—gearing up for a downpour. His heart raced as he saw her name, his fingers fumbling to unlock the phone.

Yn: you’re in ny still?

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again, not after weeks of silence.

h: Still here. Why?

There was a long pause before her next message came through.

Yn: i’ve been thinking about you

It was as if the system his body needed to stay alive had paused, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn’t believe it—after all this time, she was finally considering it.

h: If you ever feel ready, I’m right where you left me.

Another pause.

Yn: it was ever just about the album h

Her message hit him like a punch to the chest, the weight of it settling in slowly. He had known—of course, he had known—but seeing it there, written out in front of him, made it all the more real.

Harry stared at the message for a long time, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tried to find the right words. But what could he say? He felt the same way, had felt it for months, but he hadn’t known how to tell her.

He attempted to, the day she left, cried even. But she walked away before he had the chance to continue.

h: I know.

It was simple, but it was true. He did know. He had known all along.

Yn: are you still recording at the same studio?

Harry’s heart leapt at her words, a surge of hope flooding through him.

h: Yeah, actually here right now. Brainstorming by myself for a bit.

Yn: buzz me in. i’m outside

Harry blinked, rereading the message a few times, the tips of his fingers all pins and needles

Outside.

She was there—outside, in the cold, waiting. Without thinking, he shot out of his chair, the legs scraping the studio floor with a harsh screech. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he fumbled to send her a quick reply. His movements were so frantic he had forgotten to press send.

He grabbed his jacket, threw it over his shoulders, and bolted for the door, his mind racing. She was here.

He wondered if he should slow down, would it be weird to greet her breathless at the door?

He rolled his eyes at himself. stop overthinking.

The hallway lights flickered slightly as he made his way down the corridor, his steps fast. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure what she would say, but none of that mattered. All he knew was that she was here, and that was enough for him right now.

When he finally reached the front entrance, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the buzzer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions bubbling inside him. There was a weight to this moment—something bigger than just a simple reunion. He could feel it, like the air had thickened with all the unsaid words between them.

He pressed the button.

A soft buzz echoed through the small space, followed by the familiar click of the door unlocking. Harry pulled it open, stepping out into the crisp November air. The wind whipped around him, biting at his skin, but it didn’t matter because there she was.

YN stood a few feet away, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, her hair tousled by the wind. Her face was partially shadowed in the dingy light from the streetlamps, but he could still see her eyes—those same eyes that had watched him in the studio all those months ago, the ones that saw more than most people ever did.

The eyes of a girl he fell so pathetically in love with.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the cold, neither of them moving. It was like time had paused again, just as it had so many times before when they were alone in the studio, surrounded by music but drowning in something deeper. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, unsure how to break the silence.

Finally, YN spoke, her voice quiet but steady, cheeks flushed from both her deepening blush and the cold. “Hi, Harry.”

The sound of her voice hit him like a wave, familiar and comforting, and all the tension he’d been holding onto seemed to unravel at once. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled, though his heart was still racing. “Hi.”

It was such a simple exchange, but it felt like everything. For weeks, Harry had been caught in this strange limbo, not knowing if he’d see her again, not knowing if the distance between them was permanent. But here she was, standing right in front of him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally shifting.

“It’s cold.” His voice is light, jutting his chin ever so slightly to the outside that existed around them. “Come in, please.”He felt unsure of how much to say, how much to push.

YN hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the door behind him. She shifted on her feet, the wind catching the ends of her coat and lifting it slightly. For a second, Harry thought she might say no, that maybe she was having second thoughts. But then, she gave him a small nod, a barely-there smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Harry held the door open as she walked past him, the familiar warmth of the studio wrapping around them both as they stepped inside. It was quiet—just the two of them now, the usual noise of the team gone for the night. He led her down the hallway toward the control room, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, thoughts spinning with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how to.

When they reached the room, Harry gestured toward the seat she’d always occupied—the one by the soundboard where she’d spent so many hours offering ideas, tweaking lyrics, helping him make a few songs what they were. YN paused for a second before sitting down, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced around the room.

“It feels the same.” Her laugh was breathy, a sadness to it. Her eyes lingered on the equipment, the scattered notes, the half-empty coffee cups that still littered the space. “Like nothing’s changed.”

Harry sat down across from her, his fingers brushing absently against the neck of the guitar that leaned against the chair. “Not much has.” He admitted, his voice quiet. “Except for you not being here.”

She looked at him then, searching his face, and Harry felt that familiar pull—the one that had always drawn him to her, even when she’d kept herself at arm’s length. There was something in her gaze, something heavy with unsaid words, and he wondered if she could feel it too.

A beat had passed. “I missed this, she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you, H.

His cheeks felt hot, the words landing between them like a confession. He swallowed, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he wanted to say in return.

“I missed you too.”Harry murmured, the truth of it echoing in every syllable. And for the first time in months, the silence between them didn’t feel so heavy. It felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to fall back into place. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.

She shifted on her feet, eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was sincere, dripping with the guilt she’s battled for months. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I needed to take some time, figure things out.”

He nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. He would’ve tried to look better if he knew he’d be seeing her today. “It hurt.”

She pulled her lips between her teeth, eyes glossed over as she nodded. She had to look away, not able to face him. She knew she had done to him the same thing she was so afraid of—she just left. It gutted her for a while, wanting to reach out and apologize. She had this anxious feeling he wouldn’t forgive her. Rightfully so.

But it’s Harry.

He ran his hand down his face, a swirl of emotions becoming a cyclone within him. He frowned, seeing how spaced she was—as if she wasn’t here. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind.”

His tone was a bit more straightforward than he originally intended, but it was the truth. She showed up asking to be buzzed in, he felt as if he shouldn’t be the one digging.

She shook her head, trying to blink away some of her tears. “Guilt, sorrow, you.”

He nodded, looking at her expectantly to finish. He wished she could say her feelings as fast as she could walk away from them, but she was trying at least, and it felt like a start.

She inhaled shakily, running her fingers through her hair as her lip continued to tremble. “Guilt for leaving you the same what I feared being left.” Her voice had a tremor, her breaths a bit quicker. “Guilt for not saying sorry sooner. The pain of missing you—.” She whimpered, the same as Harry did the day she left.

“The guilt and sorrow will fade.” Harry murmured, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. “Y’just to work through it, don’t ignore it.”

YN wiped her cheeks, fingers shaking as she tried to regulate her breathing.. “And you?” Her voice was small, fragile, afraid of the answer.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Me?”

“Have I lost you?”

He frowned, the words caught in his throat. The question felt like it knocked the air from his lungs, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between them, unbearable. He let his shoulders falter, “I love you, YN.”

The words hung between them, raw and unfiltered. It was stripped of all pretense, just the truth he carried with him for months. He watched her for any sort of reaction, and she just kind of stood there. He wondered for a moment if he even said anything, if it was just loud in his head but he actually had just left her hanging. “I love you.” He repeated, just in case.

"I–” She tried to speak, but her voice cracked.

She swallowed hard, tears still clinging to her lashes as she searched his face. The pain, the guilt, the regret—it was all still there, but beneath it, there was something else, something softer. Something she had kept hidden for so long, she wasn't sure how to let it out. “You do?”

He nodded, remaining vulnerable. He had no clue if she would reciprocate, or if she’d just walk away if met with the familiar fear. “Think I always have.”

For the first time, it didn't feel like there was a barrier. It felt like something was breaking, something that had been keeping them apart for far too long.

Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers brushing against his arm, tentative at first, but then firmer as she closed the distance between them. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, her face pressed against his chest as the tears flowed freely now, the weight of months of separation, guilt, and pain finally slipping away.

Harry held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his. This was what he had been missing—this. Not just the music, not just the friendship. It was her. All of her.

"I love you," he whispered again, the words soft and full of promise. "I’m here."

It was them, just them—like she’d never left.

[suplicyy]

Hii, i saw your requests are open, so i'd like to make one, headcannons. Tsukishima, kuroo and lev timeskip x male reader, it can be gn reader too, where they're dating very famous actor or singer reader, they don't have problem of their partner being famous, but they get jealous some times.

Sorry if i'd made a mistake on my writting, english is not my firts lenguage.

All Eyes On Me

Timeskip!Haikyuu boys x Famous!Reader

— Summary: They date a very well-known actor/singer, who has recently been very successful and consequently receiving more fans, which makes them a little jealous.

— Characters (timeskip!): Tsukishima, Kuroo, Lev.

— Fluff | Male!Reader

Tsukishima Kei

You were the lead singer of a band, but when it split up you decided to pursue a solo career. And sometimes it even seemed to be more famous than when you were in the group, to be honest.

To put it in context, Tsukishima started dating you at the end of your old band, so he was able to see your entire solo career process up close.

During this period you were depressed, because the band members had gone their separate ways due to conflicts between them, so he was the one who supported you and gave you the strength to continue your dream at this moment.

And you are so grateful for all his support at this time, that you even wrote and sang a song especially for him. Every letter, every verse, was all dedicated to him.

And coincidentally this became one of your most famous songs, so much so that it started to go viral again on all social networks. And that was also how people started looking for who had made this divine melody, and came across your ig.

Not only were you a great songwriter, but in addition to having a mesmerizing voice, you were also, in fact, very beautiful. This resulted in a lot of success and, of course, many passionate fans.

With the two of you choosing to reveal your relationship only to those closest to you, most people didn't know you were dating. But Tsukishima was starting to regret not telling the whole world that you were his.

The last straw was when you received flowers from a secret admirer in your studio; and you had even assumed that it was Kei who gave you the gift, but you dismissed your doubts when you asked him about it.

He was very jealous. Of course he didn't admit that to you, but his attitude said completely otherwise. And this was confirmed the day after you received those flowers.

Tsukishima and you generally didn't like to have dates in busy places, due to the fact that you were both introverted and preferred the tranquility of your home, in addition to the fact that you always had fans who recognized you.

Of course you adored all of your fans, but the constant interactions could get tiring from time to time.

Returning to the subject... you went for a walk on a pleasant afternoon to a coffee shop that had recently opened.

What you didn't realize was that a paparazzo had sneaked into the place, sitting at a table further away from the two of you, but still keeping an eye on your actions, waiting for the perfect moment to take an exclusive photo of you on a date with a "stranger".

Perceptive as always, of course Tsukishima noticed the person's presence, but he didn't talk about it with you.

He saw this as the perfect opportunity to give you a sweet but lingering kiss on your lips.

Which gave the photographer images that would yield an entire week of the most talked about topics on social media.

Kuroo Tetsurou

With the release of a new album after 3 years on hiatus, the group you are part of has become one of the most popular today.

And with the emergence of new songs, you were one of the members who gained many fans in the process.

During the period when the group was inactive, you met Kuroo through mutual friends, and it was almost like love at first sight.

In less than a month you were already dating, but you only revealed it to your social circle, which means the rest of the world had no idea you were in a relationship.

So of course Kuroo would be jealous to see so many fans talking about how attractive you are, or how a TV presenter blatantly hit on you in the middle of the recording.

But of course you never paid attention to that, you only have eyes for your only love (which is clearly him), and you made a point of making that clear to him every day.

Even though you assured him that everything was fine, he still felt slightly jealous.

But he promised himself that one day the entire Galaxy would know that you were his, and of course, that he was all yours.

One day, you and your group were invited to participate in an exclusive interview with a renowned reporter.

She was well known for liking to talk about her interviewee's personal life, so of course you wouldn't be able to escape all the questions she would give you.

But you weren't worried at all, it seemed more like you were confident.

"So [Name]... a lot of your fans always wonder if you're in a relationship since you're pretty private, so it seems like they're curious about it!" "Oh yes, I don't really like exposing my personal life, you know, I've always been known for being the more closed type." you say in a polite tone, which makes the reporter laugh slightly at your response.

"Well... so does that mean you're already committed? Or maybe you're looking for romance?" you laugh a little embarrassed at his question, but soon compose yourself with a proud expression on your face.

"Actually..."

You show your hand to the reporter, then point to the golden wedding ring lightly hugging your ring finger.

At that moment, everyone knew that you were already committed, but many didn't know that your beloved was none other than Kuroo Tetsurou.

Lev Haiba

You are an actor who recently completed a triology of a very famous action film.

Your great acting mixed with your appearance worthy of a Renaissance painting helped you to win the role of antagonist in the movie.

Furthermore, it was in this environment that you managed to meet Lev, the love of your life who has been with you for 2 happy years.

You were once asked to participate in a photo shoot along with several famous actors and models, which included Lev and his sister.

That day you struck up a conversation and discovered many things in common, and in the end, Alisa encouraged the tallest one to ask for your number, which you immediately agreed to.

Everyone was already aware about your relationship, as Lev once accidentally told about you in an interview.

But it's not like you were worried about what would happen due to the revelation, you loved him too much and would do anything to stay by his side, and he thinks the same.

Even though everyone respects your relationship and the two of you live a peaceful life together, Lev still can't contain his jealousy, especially given the current situation.

Due to your angelic appearance, you were called to be a protagonist of a romance film. The actress who would be your romantic pair in the movie was also very handsome, and some people on the internet who were oblivious about your relationship with Lev assumed that the two of you were attracted to each other.

You really wanted to deny the rumors, because you were completely faithful to your loved one, but the film's management told you to wait until the recordings were finished, so as not to cause a scandal.

He knew you loved him, but seeing other people say things they didn't know about you made him sulk all day.

But then he had an idea.

You were called at the last minute to take part in a photo shoot for a men's fashion magazine.

You were aware that you would have to take photos with someone else, but at no point was it revealed to you who that person would be. But when you saw a familiar silver hair peeking out over the curtain that clearly couldn't hide his bizarre height, you knew exactly who it was.

Even after doing the photo shoot and it was coincidentally released a week after that rumor that you were dating the other actress, he still confesses with a straight face that he begged the magazine to allow you to participate in the photo shoot with him.

And he also shamelessly asked for a photo of the two of you to be placed on the cover of the magazine.

— A/N: Apologies again for the delay!!! Some urgent things happened here at home and I needed to reserve most of my time to resolve them, so I ran out of time to finish writing this😓

[stormblessed95]

Hello,

I hope you have recovered fully or are recovering well.

I only wanted to say this because I am an over thinker and someone needs to tell me to shut up. I don't have any Jikook fans in real life so these are the places I vent.

I think I am either the majority or.the minority depending on which space we are in that thinks and feels that Jikook are distant and have been for a while. I don't think like only because of the car scene. Even when they are taking photos, they aren't doing it like they used to do before. Before if one of them was taking a photo of the two, generally they would be attached at the hips and in each other's face. I didnt notice them doing that in the first two episodes but I also just saw a small clip from Sapporo and they are also taking a pic but they are but distant from each other. I know it might be some miniscule to you but these are few of the instances where I felt that their relationship was beyond friendship.

I know I am over thinking it but I don't know, I don't feel as good about it I suppose. What happened to the Jikook that would literally smooshed their faces together for a photo? What happened to Jikook that were always seen hanging out prior to the hiatus. I heard about them hanging out all the time.

Yes they were busy and I get that. Jimin specially seems to have been super duper busy but he seems to have built a deeper relationship with the Hyung like but kep.a distance from the Maknae line so I am a bit confused I suppose. Out of all the BTS members, I always assumed Jikook were it and nothing would come in between so I am surprised to see work coming in between them?

I still feel like shiiitttt lol but I had to start work today anyway. Thanks for checking in though 💜

Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to think or tell you what your opinion should be. Think whatever you want. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not ever going to be the one to talk you into shipping Jikook. You think they aren't together, that's totally good by me! I hope you still love and support them as BTS, and I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy any part of the fandom you continue to participate in, including mine if you stick around anyway on my blog.

I'm just here to present facts and let you draw your own conclusions based off that. And sometimes share my opinions about them, but only with the caveat that no one steals MY opinion and must create their own 😉

So for the facts, babygirl (I use as a gender neutral terms), for as many selcas as Jikook took like this:

They took JUST as many like this, which are (edging into opinion territory just a bit here) just the same as the glimpses we've gotten of selcas taken from AYS

Close together for the selfie, but not smushed as close as they could possibly get without just going ahead and crawling inside each other. Just a normal cutesy photo

More facts! As for hanging out prior to the hiatus (where I guess now it's assumed they never saw each other not even once, which is opinion and assumption, not fact), I have a post already done about all the times Jikook were spotted hanging out outside of work (because BTS time is work).

Hint: it's less often than you think

Double hint: they were still glued at the hip, we just know they were because they say and act like they were, not because we got to see or hear about it

Triple hint: it's probably exactly the same now except we know that currently, at this moment, they choose to continue to be glued at the hip for the next 18 months at minimum

I have other posts about their dates too, but this is the one that covers the topic I mentioned above best I think

Work came between them? Is that what they said or is that what you took their words to mean based on your biases and previous assumptions?

Anywho! Thanks again for checking in on me love.

Just a bit of unsolicited advice that you are free to disregard. I think whatever you decide about how you feel about Jikook, you should consider taking an emotional step back from them, just a smidge. Nothing that is only supposed to bring you joy, BTS or any other hobby, should get you feeling so far in your head feeling so conflicted. Good luck, sending you purple hearts! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[kanmom51]

Firstly, I wanted to say I love your page and appreciate your honest perspective when it comes to BTS and jikook in particular. I am an “older” Army and can appreciate the viewpoint of someone who’s lived life a little and has seen many types of relationships. It’s very hard to not realize there’s something between JK and Jimin when you’ve seen examples of it time and time again in your own life or those around you. So thank you for making me feel less crazy!

I haven’t followed your page for very long and realize you may have touched on this in the past, but I was wondering what your thoughts are on this: Could V sometimes bringing up Jungkook/Jimin together or separately (usually Jungkook…let’s be real) and mentioning that they’ve hung out with him or seemingly being “encouraging” of a certain ship, possibly be his odd way of trying to distract from the real relationship he knows exists between jikook? Like in his own special Teahyung way be trying to help? For a long time, there has always been something that didn’t quite sit right with me when it came to V. I think it was his constant need for attention….don’t get me wrong, I love many things about him as well and know he can’t be very sweet and thoughtful and funny and endearing. I love them all very much. But am wondering what you think about V sounding like he sometimes encourages a taekook ship (ie, the last surprise live at JKs house or the live where he mentioned gaming with JK) because maybe in his own special way, he’s trying to protect? He does tend to do things in a very unique way. I don’t know! Let me know what you think!

Hey @sweetbslm108, welcome and thank you.

And hi @nut2019 😊

Now, I know both of these asks are kind of on the different sides of the spectrum, but I kind of felt like they can be answered together, because of the one communality, and that's, but of course, Tae THE MAN.

Also, before starting I need to say this is all my opinion. Take it or leave it.

I think I kinda talked about this here a bit too:

Let me just clarify what Tae shared in his IG story yesterday @nut 2019. It was a photo and a clip taken on the night after the movie premiere that JK and Tae went to, which was the 24-25 April 2023 - which as of today is 3 weeks ago. It's clearly that night and it's also clear it's not a date or an outing of the two alone, but a group outing with Tae and his friends (a couple from the Wooga squad and a couple I personally do not recognize). Yes, he posted it on Yellow day, but clearly has zero to do with that day.

I don't think Tae is encouraging the ship, but as an agent of chaos, he might be enjoying the aftermath of his handy work, maybe a little too much, lol.

Look, let's get serious here for a sec.

I love Tae to bits. I think it was even in one of the comments to the post I linked that someone mentioned thinking he's neuro divergent, and I was going "YES, FINALLY", because I've been saying this since forever. I'm no psychiatrist, so obviously I won't be handing out a diagnosis here, but, that said, his behavior, his quirkiness, his lack of understanding social queues and others emotions at times. The way he just says what pops to head, no matter if it has anything to do with the subject, and no matter what the consequences might be (take his 2015 radio interview fiasco literally outing JM on live air).

Tae is who he is. Always has been. And we all need to remember that the others all love him. All of them (including those we tend to champion). They might be frustrated with him at times. Angry with him. Might want to end him at times (from what JK spilled about the dumpling fight I kind of feel that was one of those times, lol), but you know, we all have those days with our loved ones too, so yeah.

In any case, whatever it may be, since the hiatus Tae has started to move in a certain recognized pattern that many Jikookers aren't happy with.

I understand the frustration that not only Jikookers have with him when it comes to that (and I'm saying that Tae stans are also feeling it). It feels like he lacks the energy to give to the fandom, interact with them, and maybe he feels that by dropping JK's name or posting a pic or clip with him he's making them happy (obviously aware of how much JK is loved), all while he obviously also is well aware of the chaos he's creating by doing so (claiming that he doesn't is a little naïve). It's kind of a minimum work maximum impact situation.

You are right @sweetbslm108 about Tae's mind being different to ours, it feels like his thought process is on a different parallel level. It's not by chance that JM called him his alien, lol. But saying that, I really don't think that this is his twisted way of going about protecting Jikook. I, personally, have no issues with him mentioning JK if it's part of the natural development of the conversation, kind of like he did during his live a few weeks back in the car. Doing so while talking about this and that, maybe also mentioning the others. They are good friends and clearly have gotten closer over the last few months (I'd say them being left for last and JM being MIA for JK did that), and it's natural they spend time together and it's great if he let's us know about it. But why only JK lately? That's what I keep asking myself, because he's not the only member he's in touch with or spent time with in the past few months. And coming live for a few minutes and dropping JK's name for what seems so purposeful, so much so that I've seen several Tae stans complaining about it. Because it doesn't feel natural. It doesn't feel like he's coming to talk to army or update them.

And I feel like it's ok to criticize him, criticize his behavior.

JK himself (there I go name dropping) said they are only human, which they are.

I keep saying it too, human beings with feelings and wants and needs, not 2 dimensional characters like many fans see them as.

And as such, they are not infallible. And they are definitely not beyond reproach.

And saying out loud, sounding said criticism, it doesn't make you a hater.

We criticize our loved ones, reprimand them when we feel they are doing wrong, and we do it out of love. So what's the difference here?

It should be part of the open discussion. Those who think it's wrong, those who don't, all respectful, no hate.

NO HATE!!

We don't do hate!!!

We love all 7 members.

We might feel more of an emotional connection with some rather than others, but we love them all, each in their own way.

And if I wasn't clear about it, then that includes Tae, even if sometimes he does things that might be infuriating.

My daughters can infuriate me at times, doesn't make me love them any less. Also doesn't stop me from letting them know I don't agree with their behavior.

I will end this by saying that we are all different people, we come from different backgrounds, different places in the world, different professions or schooling, different upbringings, different cultures, different life experiences, just different. All those are our baselines. The things that make us who we are, what we think, what we do.

And being different, all gathering here, voicing our opinions, talking to each other, hearing each other out, that will, at the end of the day make us better people. I do believe that. Being able to listen to one another and at times allow ourselves to be convinced one way or another, that makes us better.

Bottom line:

Tae is an agent of chaos. We love him, even when said chaos he is causing can be infuriating (and the thing is, all he's doing is mentioning his friend or posting a pic of them together, but it's what transpires from that due to mainly I-army that irks us so much).

We are also allowed to call him out on it.

No hate. Period.

Have a civil discussion.

You can voice your opinions here, as long as it's respectful and without hate. Not towards the members and not towards each other.

[yuseis-mindless-twaddle]

Cohesive List of Notable Layton Projects I'm Working On

I'm Yusei, mostly active on Discord as of late. I entered the Layton Fandom through the subreddit and have been spreading the plague that is me since then. Since I just set up this account, here's a cohesive list of my notable Layton-based works: 1. Professor Layton and the Dreadful Food Service (2023 - On-going)

Above is a video playthrough of the (currently broken) demo of the game. It contains 1 puzzle and some shotty concept art. Development on the game has progressed much since the demo, including new assets, more puzzles, and some storyboarded cutscenes. Current project status: On Hiatus. Team Enigma, College, and Calamity Witch Arianna have taken precedence over this specific fan game, but it will be returned to in time (breaks from school, usually).

2. Professor Layton and the Mansion of the Deathly Mirror: Reflected (202? - On-going)

I would like to make it known that this is not my endeavor alone. I'm the head programmer, but this is a group effort so please take a look at the other department heads -- their work is incredible, and I'm very proud to be part of a team with such pleasant folks. Together, we are Team Enigma! There's plans to make more games than just this, so keep an eye out for any news post-MotDM:RE.

Current Project Status: In development. It'll be a slow process but we're making good headway already. Look forward to updates as development progresses.

3. Calamity Witch Arianna Tetralogy (2024 - *anticipated* 2025)

Want to "play" it yourself? Check it out (supposedly it work on phones, too):

This is planned to be a four-part mini series about Arianna from Professor Layton and the Last Specter. The idea is that each new chapter gets progressively more complex (longer runtime, new features such as puzzles, more actual art from my end, etc.) -- chapter 1 is already out, but it's simply a visual novel for now. Puzzles and basic investigation have been coded for chapter 2, which is currently in development.

Current Project Status: In development. Essentially working on this when I have time and the energy. On scene two, thinking up puzzle ideas. Doing voice work, as well.

4. Coin Forager -- a Layton-community-lead hint coin finding game! (2024, like last week - hopefully as long as people want to submit entries)

Coin Forager is a fun little idea I had whilst browsing the Reddit-Discord. The idea is that whoever wants to can enter a photo they've taken from a place they feel like would have hint coins hidden around and I enter it into this little searching game. So far, we have 9 entries. Version 1.0.0 will be uploaded to itch once I get 20 submissions. Hint coins found through each location can unlock information about the area, such as the name of the place or a fun fact about it. Everyone is free to enter a location!

Current Project Status: Always in development. The goal is for this to be open for as long as I can. Folks will always be welcome to submit an entry, and I'll find the time to add it!

So that's it, for now, at least off the top of my head. Thanks for reading, and I'm sure there'll be many more projects to come in the future!

[mushroompollution]

In the car, Leo had broken the news to Elliot that, no, Holy Knight had not actually emerged from its long hiatus just in time for its number one fan and critic's birthday. He'd been reprimanded after their last backseat brawl, and so Leo felt safe he could avoid any violence if he told him here.

Elliot's disappointment had been palpable, his attitude bitter as their driver had dropped them off at the location Leo and his contact had agreed in private conversation:

The city's largest park.

"What the hell did you bring me HERE for?" Elliot demands as the pair stroll up the gardens of the main entrance. He keeps his arms crossed, but it is hard to stay mad surrounded by so many gorgeous, blooming flowers. "if you wanted to go for a walk, you could've just asked."

"we're supposed to meet a mysterious stranger," Leo keeps his voice low, like he's telling a careful secret.

Elliot seems to tense at his side. "The hell does that mean? Is this some kind of prank--"

"not exactly~"

The walkway they follow circles around a great centerpiece, an impressive section of ruined building facade, its pillars and intricate gargoyles seemingly undamaged. A remnant of the former capitol's city hall, displayed in remembrance of the Tragedy that destroyed it. The pair follows the path, and as they reach the other side of the monument, a familiar face appears.

"Oz Vessalius?!" Elliot screams, drawing the attention of the quiet park's other patrons.

Once the hotheaded nobleman is calmed, Oz explains that he felt terrible about missing Elliot's birthday, but he also knew better than to try and show up as a Vessalius at a Nightray party. Also, he knew Elliot would be stubborn if he knew who had requested his time. Eventually, Elliot accepted that answer, and the trio had decided to venture into the park's wooded trails.

They make idle conversation as they walk, and the atmosphere between them becomes something amicable. Elliot and Oz bicker over their opposing tastes in character tropes. Leo rattles off the names of every wildflower they see, stopping to take photos of the ones he doesn't know to read about later. Oz promises them a grand meal after this

and cake, of course.

Most of the park's trails are wide and easy going, but as they venture further, closer to the river that marks the south boundary, several smaller side trails appear.

They follow one that runs along the river, though it can't be seen beyond the tall, dense, golden wildflowers that grow on either side of the narrow trail.

"I think we're almost there..." Oz says suddenly.

"There?? Is there actually some reason you brought me out here?" Elliot asks. To the untrained ear, his voice sounds irritable, but Leo knows him well, and Oz has always been a quick learner, and both of them pick up on his subtle. playful undertones.

"umm, sort of. this field won't work, but we needed to go someplace Gil definitely won't ever find us..."

"Why?!"

"you'll see! I think there's a good spot-- oh! yeah! just up ahead!" Oz suddenly breaks off into a light sprint through the tall, golden plants. His competitive nature takes hold, and Elliot immediately matches his pace, though Leo lingers behind. As the valet finally emerges from the wildflowers, he finds the other two facing each other in a sparse clearing beneath an overpass.

Elliot looks around himself in confusion, brows knit in annoyance. "Okay. What is this? " Now there's an irritated tone.

But Oz just giggles with that million-watt smile. "see, Alice and I looked in every single shop in Old Town trying to find a birthday present that suited you," he explains.

"So you brought me out to the middle of nowhere?" Elliot demands. "To what? Jump me???"

"yeah!"

Elliot seems too stunned to reply. Leo cocks his head to one side with an amused smile.

"back in Sabalier, you said you really wanted to fight me. 'more than anything,' you said" Oz continues.

"Well yeah, but--"

"I'm not finished talking," oh it's so hard for Oz to say that line to him without a giggle, after the serious way Elliot had spat it back then. "so anyway, I started thinking. the best present I could give Elliot, is a fight!"

There's another moment of stunned silence, before something primal activates inside Elliot. A sinister grin shows his cute little snaggle-toothed fang as he drives one fist into the palm of the other and cracks his knuckles. "Ohhhhohohoho. You have no idea, Oz Vessalius."

"okay, but one thing. you can't use that sword--"

"That's fine. I don't need it to kick your ass, shorty. Leo!"

"Yes!" Leo steps forward as summoned, all too formal as he holds out his hands to take Elliot's sword and the backpack slung over his shoulder. He then steps back to watch in amusement.

Immediately, the two young men seem to begin to circle each other like cats, though the atmosphere is undermined by Oz's sunny demeanor. "Can you even fight?" Elliot asks as he sizes him up.

"I've been training with Break!" Oz chirps. Though his voice stays cheerful, the look in his emerald eyes is serious now.

"What, since last month?"

"yep."

"Pfft! Yeah, okay. Let's see it, shorty--!!" Elliot moves first, throwing all his strength into a punch mid-sentence in an attempt to catch the younger man off guard. But what Oz lacks in offensive strength, he does make up for in agility, allowing him to duck the more experienced fighter. He turns quickly on his heel, attempting to strike before Elliot could recover from the missed blow, only for the two to come hand to hand in a grapple.

"that's actually pretty impressive..." Leo comments. Except he isn't watching the fight anymore.

The vibrant graffiti covering the overpass support wall had caught Leo's attention. Still holding his master's belongings safe and sound, the valet allows himself to become distracted, wandering closer for a better look. He tucks Elliot's sword under one arm to snap some photos of the colorful tagging.

When he turns back around, Oz is lying on his back in the sandy earth with Elliot sat beside him, arms propped on raised knees, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

"oh, i missed it," Leo comments, snapping his fingers in feign disappointment.

"that was fun," Oz chuckles as he sits up, rubbing his left cheek with a wince. Something about his cracking voice, however, suggests this level of roughhousing might not really be his idea of a good time.

"It was okay," Elliot scoffs. Leo approaches his side, but makes no offer to help his master off the ground, leaving him to heave himself up with a grunt befitting a much older gentleman. The valet does however hand over Elliot's belongings as the young noble finishes adjusting his clothes.

Finally, Elliot turns back toward his bested opponent, still sitting in the dirt. He holds out a hand, and Oz's eyes light up as he takes it. Elliot's grasp is firm as he hoists Oz to his feet.

"Here. Loser has to carry my backpack."

Oz smiles gleefully as he takes the drawstring bag and hikes it up on one shoulder, just as Elliot had carried it. "can I carry your sword, too--"

"Not on your life!" Elliot barks with a laugh that echoes beneath the overpass.

[daiseukiis]

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙭 ; 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨

SYNOPSIS. the new years is always a great way to start cleaning the house and cleansing it from any forms of stuidity dirtiness. though, you never really thought that you and multiple others were tricked into shrine for gojo worshippers.

FEAT. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, fushiguro tsumiki, gojo satoru, miwa kasumi,

CONTENTS. profanity, dirty jokes

A/N. hello, i would just like to welcome everyone back after a long await hiatus from fiuwtf ! i have returned to writing, and many many people have requested for this series to come back and i will now be picking it up to finish. five episodes and an ova is left ! i would like to thank everyone for their undying support, because till now i do still see comments and rbs on my series as well wishing for it's return. i am excited to share to you our fushiguro family coming back to tumblr ! if you wish to be added to this taglist, please fill out THIS FORM.

episode five | 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒 | episode seven

꒰꒰ new years meant lots of cleaning to do ( to tie any lose ends )

꒰꒰ even if toji wasn't too happy about cleaning, he still did it because tsumiki forced him to

꒰꒰ for some odd reason, toji and megumi were getting along and you really thought it was some sort of new year's miracle. it didn't last long though

"it isn't clean!" megumi exclaims, pointing over to the counter where they all had their family photos. toji just irks his brows up, crossing his arms over the other with a broom in his hand.

"whadduya mean it ain't clean? that shit's spotless." he gestures to where megumi is pointing, telling him to look with his eyes and not with his mouth. the boy twitches his brow, laying his finger flatly on there and collecting the dirt before pointing same finger at toji. "it's fuckin' dusty."

꒰꒰ yeah, you just told them to sit down as you and tsumiki cleaned and got ready for dinner. all of you shared having otoso, but toji drank all of it at the end

꒰꒰ after the hefty dinner, all of you got dressed up in your yukatas ( even tsumiki got toji to wear one )

꒰꒰ you knew toji wasn't one for customs or traditions, but when he whipped out those beautiful otoshidama your heart warmed up

"here, it's for you guys." you and tsumiki were chatting by the front until toji had approached you both, a hand out with two paper envelopes that was neatly decorated. both of you lightly gape at the sight, his stoic expression urging you two girls to take it.

"otoshidama?" though hesitantly your hands reach out to recieve the gift, you give toji a small bow as a thank you. "open it." you nod at tsumiki, fingers opening the small flap at the top to see a whole load of cash inside for each one of you.

"am i not getting one?" megumi calls from behind, he didn't really care since you were the one getting money and he had a small hunch that he gave you a little extra for the two of you but he could never be two sure. toji just scoffs at megumi's words, glancing behind him, "if you bothered to give me a kid, maybe."

꒰꒰ yours and megumi's old classmates had met up at the new shrine everyone had been talking about, and to say the least it was packed

꒰꒰ tsumiki had practically dragged you with her to the bonfire to warm up as you all waited for hatsumode

꒰꒰ after warming up by the bon fire everyone started to get an ema to write their wishes and hang it through the shrine

"what are you wishing for, yn?" tsumiki gleefully asks you, fingers gliding it's way through the wooden board. you let out a super defeated sigh, suddenly remembering how this year had treated you so far. "i'm wishing for these bitches stop destroying my house."

꒰꒰ all of a sudden you noticed that there was a line to go into the shrine, and rumour had it that you could actually go and see the priest!

꒰꒰ tsumiki of course wanted to see what it was about, making you wait in line for over thirty minutes

꒰꒰ it was so long that the others were already looking for the two of you

"oh, is that a call from tou-chan?" tsumiki goes and sees the caller id of your father, curious to why he had called rather than texting. the two of you share a shrug before you answer the phone. "moshi, moshi?"

"where the fuck are ya two?" he sounded irritated. though you ignore your fathers words, you can faintly hear megumi in the background not to talking to you that way. not like you minded. "we're in line to see the priest."

"ah, i see ya." tsumiki grabs hold of the sleeve of your yukata, catching your attention. you follow where she points, and it's towards the figure of your father and husband. when they finally reunite with you megumi is scolding the both of you for getting lost in such a big crowd ( but it was tsumiki's idea why were you also getting scolded ? )

꒰꒰ all of you guys are surprised when nobara, itadori, panda, maki and inumaki were also there. then you guys find out that this was a new shrine

꒰꒰ the closer you guys got to the end of the line the more... weird it got. as in they were suddenly selling merch?

꒰꒰ though the moment you and the others were next your jaw dropped

"oh! my precious yn came to see me on new years? so sweet~!" lo and behold gojo saturo sitting on the platform as if he were the priest. hell, he even had the traditional clothing for it on too! the man waves towards your group, but you can't help be but at a lost for words.

"what the fuck... miwa?!" your eyes are ready to pop out when you see miwa taking in donations and a camera at hand for tourists to take pictures. she was even regulating the line of gojo fanatics who had fans, lightsticks and headbands all dedicated for him. there's even a table to buy photos of gojo.

"and this is for you, my dear yn~" gojo's voice itself causes many fangirls to scream, what a man whore. no wonder when you lot entered this place there were suddenly posters and statues of gojo... it was a shrine built for this idiot!

"maki-san." you take a deep breath in, quickly stuffing the otoshidama in your yukata sleeve. you had to get that money first before whopping his ass. the female jujutsu sorcerer nods her head with the biggest vein popping on her forehead. "i know."

꒰꒰ the fusghiguros ( excluding tsumiki ) as well as maki got their weapons and jujutsushiki ready, along with nobara to start swinging hands at gojo

꒰꒰ for the first time in your life you finally understood why they liked destroying your house

SPONSORS. @to-move-on-means-to-grow @captaincyberqueen @thevoidwriting @duhsies @ven7s @aoshei @hyomagiri

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

© daiseukiis 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

[fluffenough]

forfeit all mortal possessions to  the furby- aka my intro post

hey there! this is eidolon. i follow from verdict! this is my furby/toy blog. welcome! read my before you follow pls

furbies are a huge special interest, so feel free to dm me if youd like to infodump or have me infodump at you about them!

im eidolon, 24, they/them pronouns. im genderfluid and disabled.  my partner, who ive been living with for 6 years and dating for 7, is @tiedyefurb​​!

here is a photo of my recent go-to furbies from my collection

i will post photos of my furbies under the tag #my furbies as well as the name of the furby! i do reblog other peoples furbies and toys, too, but often forget to tag.

my dolls will be under the tag #my dolls and have their name, brand (if applicable). if you are creeped out by ball jointed dolls you can blacklist #bjd and #realistic doll. or if you like those, there are the tags for you!

my history and interests within the furby community

as of may 2023 im returning to the furby fandom! i joined in january 2018 and ive seen it all! that said, ive been on semi-hiatus for years so i do feel like a grandpa.

my favorite thing to do is take photographs of my furbies! especially outside or on trips!

i post sporatically as i take photoshoots, so i may post 10 + photos at once then nothing for months.... i refuse to queue im sorry in advance

im a big fan of 1998 and 2005 furbies. their designs are so lovely! i like how customizable 98s are and how interactive 05s are. i think 05s have an adorable, unique aesthetic.

i have many customized furbies but they were almost all bought pre-customized! i have done some minor customization and touch ups before, but nothing intense. ive skinned and washed furbies as well.

i have about 6 furbies awaiting customization, lol. i will for sure be sharing my experiences!

before you follow:

-i am 24 years old. i will not block minors but i am not comfortable talking one-on-one (you can comment, leave tags on my posts, send asks etc but we cant be friends! its just for my own comfort.)

-im a transgender queer disabled fucko and if you are a right-wing person youre not welcome here. and you dont want to be here! click off. block me. whatev

-TERF, truscum, neonazi, radfem, gender critical, anti social justice or anti feminism, anti self-dx (not everyone has the resources), anti-recovery. basically if you are a hateful person (ableist, racist, etc) go AWAY! lol

-dont follow if you find furbies creepy! plain and simple. (comments like “i usually find 05s scary, but this photo is really cute...” are ok! even in-jokes in good faith are ok. i just dont want to hear how much you want to kill my furby.)

-i will tag to the best of my ability, but w/ my disability i do struggle sometimes. i will always tag my own posts but reblogs can be the wild west

-please dont misgender my furbies! if you dont know their pronouns, use they/them or it/its. (feel free to ask their pronouns in dm, message, or on the post. :) this is very important to me. so please respect it!)

-i am taken and if you do not respect that you will be swiftly blocked no matter how close we are lol.

thanks for reading! im very friendly i swear i no bite

have a furbalicious day!

[deshaunicus]

Just sharing two of my favorite photos from 2023, but I also really need to just vent a little. The past year was a trying one for me.

There were some positives, for sure, and I've already written about those elsewhere. Today, however, I want to unload some of the more stressful things. I don't plan on going into a ton of detail, but I think I need to say it somewhere because I haven't been in a good place.

Work

The biggest source of stress for me has been losing my job at the end of June. I made a big move and left my finance job of 15 years to work for a non-profit media company in early 2022, and I got laid off about 18 months later. Make no mistake here: I loved that job and all the people I worked with. It was kind of heartbreaking to leave a place that made me feel so welcome. In the time since then, I've applied to a ton of jobs, and I've had only one interview. The interview that I was able to get wasn't even through the traditional application method—I had a friendly rapport with a recruiter and managed to land an interview that went all the way to its final round. Unfortunately, I didn't get that job and it was crushing. The little bit of savings I had has been depleted, and my unemployment ends in a few weeks. Job searching is fundamentally broken and it doesn't appear to be improving.

I've always struggled to get paid photo gigs, and despite what I'd consider to be a solid catalog of work, it has been difficult to consistently get in front of people who can offer paid opportunities. To that point, I had 4 paid concert gigs last year, out of 26 gigs total. I did have a handful of photography gigs that were not live music related, and I'm incredibly grateful for those, because they've helped to keep my rent paid for a little longer. Still, these are only occasional drops of income that aren't sustainable. I don't know what to do, and I'm pretty exhausted.

Relationships

Last year was possibly one of the loneliest years I can remember. Thankfully, my best friendships are still intact and I don't see that changing. However, there were just a lot of transitions that were starting to settle in for me. Most of my friends are married and/or have children, and quite a few of them have moved away too. It doesn't mean the friendships have dissolved—they're just different now and can't be maintained in quite the same way. Unfortunately, I still find myself occasionally revisiting abandoned friendships from years ago and grieving in one way or another—usually by having a flash of anger and then disappointment.

Romantic relationships were nonexistent. In fact, I essentially swore off of dating early in the year after a particularly demoralizing experience. Losing my job, of course, cemented that hiatus for me.

Professional relationships have also struggled. My attempts to nurture new relationships with artists, editors, and creative staff for photo work were fruitless. I did have a couple of people who successfully recommended me for work, but my own personal outreach was unsuccessful.

Outlook

I have made an effort to take the time and look back on the good things that have happened. I don't have selective memory about the good and bad things, but the bad things have been a mess. I don't know how I'll pay rent next month. If I manage to pay that, then the month after that becomes the new major concern, and so on. This is worse than paycheck to paycheck—there are no paychecks.

When friends casually mention things like plans for kids and marriage to me, I no longer confidently believe either of those things are in my future. Instead, I feel unlovable.

My sleep schedule is completely upside down now, and I don't leave my apartment for days at a time. I'm tired, and I would like to have one bit of security back.

On the very, very slim chance that you've reached the end of this, I applaud you. Part of the reason this is here is because I don't think very many people will check.

I hope that whatever 2023 was for you, 2024 ends up being better.

[kyndaris]

Behind the Scenes with The Little Prince

On our second day in Busan, bleachpanda and I headed to Gamcheon Culture Village. It is a place known for its twisting alleys and colourful houses and painted murals. Built on a steep mountain-side slope, it's often been called Korea's 'Santorini' or the 'Machu Picchu' of Busan. But the creation of Gamcheon Culture Village was due to a project to contribuet to the social, cultural and economic regeneration of an underprivileged village through culture and arts while also preserving the village's original features and historic value.

Consequently, it was a must-see location for bleachpanda and I on our trip while we were in Busan.

Of course, getting to it was a trek and a half as bleachpanda and I took a local bus towards a stop nearby and climbing up a fairly steep hill. While there was another bus we could have changed to, the internet had told me the walk wasn't too long.

What it didn't tell me about were the changes in elevation!

At the very least, we didn't explore the labyrinthine alleys running in and out of Gamcheon and kept to the main road whilst we were there. I don't think our knees would have liked us for climbing up and down a series of stairs.

Still, given the brisk morning we endured on the first day of March, the climb up to Gamcheon served to warm us up before we entered the village proper. Bleachpanda, as always, immediately zeroed in on the first souvenir shop that caught our eye, buying up almost all of their stock of earrings and other goods supposedly for her family and friends. I tried valiantly to stop bleachpanda from spending more than her means but she would not be denied.

Wait. She's telling me that's not quite the full story and to stop spreading lies lest she murder me in my sleep.

Fine! Bleachpanda did buy a copious amounts of pins and a few other souvenirs for her friends (none for me though despite the fact I'm her best friend in the world), but it was not so much that it would break open her suitcase. I, on the other hand, picked up three pairs of socks and even nabbed a crocheted dragon keyring. It was a bit expensive but it was also very cute and adorable.

What stood out to me as bleachpanda and I explored Gamcheon, I couldn't help but notice a strange obsession with Le Petit Prince everywhere I looked. As most people know, Le Petit Prince is a story written and illustrated by a French writer, Antoine de Saint-Exupery. According to Wikipedia (because, as we all know, it is a fount of knowledge that is, in no way, inaccurate and should always be everyone's go-to place when it comes to information), it is the second most translated work ever published.

The story itself revolves around an aircraft pilot's chance encounter with the little prince and his journey across the stars after feeling the need to expand his horizons after falling in love with the rose. After seeing so many different thing, taming a fox, and befriending the aircraft pilot, the little prince desires to return home and see the rose again. He does so by allowing a snake to bite him. When the pilot awakes the next morning, the prince's body cannot be found.

While I haven't read the book, I have attended a live stage show of it when it was hosted in the Sydney Opera House and watched a movie.

In any case, Gamcheon had plenty of murals of the Little Prince. There was even a sculpture of him staring out over Gamcheon with his fox companion that many tourists lined up to take photos with. Heck, there was even Little Prince bread filled with either custard cream or red bean paste!

Besides The Little Prince, there was also much love for the Korean boyband, BTS (short for Bangtan Sonyeondan). Though I don't have an undying love for the group, I did remember hearing that BTS went on hiatus from recording and performing to focus on solo projects, and to also complete their military service.

Having missed our chance to rent out a hanbok while in Seoul, bleachpanda and I stumbled upon a rental store in the heart of Gamcheon. While I have never revealed my face here on my blog, I think it appropriate that I do a 'back-of-the-head' reveal. More importantly, I just wanted to show off the hanbok we rented because we could only wear it for an hour and it cost bleachpanda and I 15,000 Won each.

Still, although it was only for an hour, we had plenty of time to prance around Gamcheon village and take several photos in and around the nearby streets.

Once we had explored Gamcheon to our satisfaction, we decided to head to the beach. Yes, it was a blistering cold day and we were never going to head down into the water, but I had heard good things about Haeundae Beach, and my work friend had also recommended it. So, after taking a bus down from where Gamcheon Culture Village was located, we took the 1003 bus all the way to the other side of Busan.

At Haeundae Beach, we strolled down the promenade and took in the sights of the locals and tourists gathered there. Haeundae, according to hte internet, is South Korea's most famous beach and is often filled to the brim with umbrellas during the peak August travel season.

Of course, since bleachpanda and I were there in March, there was hardly an umbrella in sight. Nor was there anyone in the water.

It was, after all, only 4 degrees Celsius.

Now, while Haeundae Beach is a popular destination for many, my work friend had also told me there were sky capsules that would allow tourists to get in an excellent view of the coastline.

Unfortunately, by the time we arrived to book a sky capsule, a vast majority of the bookings had been taken. As bleachpanda and I had an early start tomorrow, we chose to forego the capsules and head back to Busan Station to grab an early dinner (as we had skipped lunch). This turned out to be Chinese dumplings at Maga Mandu. And what big dumplings they were - especially when bleachpanda ordered the steamed prawn dumblings!

Thus ended our second day in Busan!

And what a day it was! From a morning trek up to Gamcheon, putting on a hanbok and gallivanting around with The Little Prince, to taking in the sights and sounds of Haeundae Beach. All the while on a public holiday! The 1st of March is a national day to celebrate Korea's independence from Japan.

But we also had an early start to the morning and so were quick to retire. After six days in Korea, we were returning back to the Land of the Rising Sun.

[hogoshoku]

my feelings (okamoto hina; 25.03.2024)

my feelings #hinadaniblog; #okamotohina

25.03.2024

good evening.

born in aichi, japan, 20-years-old,

i am okamoto hina.

these days, i've been working hard, practicing for sailor moon every day~

this is roughly my first try in terms of acting, so there are many things that i don't understand, but challenging new things is really fun all the same.

[for] the 12th birthday live,

to everyone who came to the venue,

to everyone who watched the broadcast,

truly, thank you very much.

um. where should i even begin.

there are so many things i want to tell you about.

while we were preparing for the birthday live, i'd wake up, go to rehearsals, take a power nap at night and memorize the choreography every day. it was very challenging, and i genuinely don't think i would've been able to stand on that stage, if it hadn't been for the support of my family and genmates, senpais and staff-san alike.

the two of us were together almost every day 🐼

during the rehearsals, i practiced with the senpais every day, which helped the distance between us get shorter.

tamura-san stuck close to me.

she smells very nice ☘️

yuna-san told me, with an angelic smile,

"you're really beautiful, aren't you~ (◍´꒳`◍)" ah, there also was a moment [with yuna-chan], where i thought "i love you so much that i could cry~"

during 'jikochuu [de ikou!]', there's a part of the choreography that's meant to be performed in pairs, and i didn't have one, so yakubo-san and ayatii-san told me "it'd be lonely to do this [part of the choreography] by yourself, so let's do it together!"

when they told me that, i thought to myself that i, too, would like to be such a wonderful senpai.

they really are like an elder sister and a mother to me 🫣

thank you very much for the beautiful flowers (you prepared) for this time's live show, too. before the live starts, before i go up the stage, admiring (the flowers) is my routine. 🌼.*

i love them.

if i had to name any regrets [that i was left with after the live], i wish i would've been able to sing 'barrette' without crying. [in terms of this song,] i was teary-eyed ever since the rehearsals, but when the intro to it began playing and i was faced with the concert's psyllium-filled scenery, my tear glands broke down and i burst out crying..

this was a song by my favourite senpai, whom i admire.

when i thought that, thanks to many coincidences and miracles that happened all at once, i now stood on the stage that i had been longing for, my tears couldn't stop flowing.

i was thrilled with the costumes, too.

i found one of the heart petals that were used during the performance and had fallen on the floor, and i took it home really carefully-!!

someday, some other time.

i want to perform this song to my satisfaction.

furthermore, this was my first time performing 'against', which is a song i've always said i've loved.

i did my best to dance to this song, despite clinging to riria-chan in tears [during the rehearsals]... riria-chan taught me each step, one by one, with a smile on her face 🫶

recently, we made a promise to go out again together 🎀

having difficult choreography is an essential part of cool songs, isn't it~

i wanted to recreate the way everyone in 1kisei-san danced.

with that feeling in mind, i watched past videos [of this song being performed] over and over again.

i wonder how many more times i'll be able to perform 'against' while being part of nogizaka46.

i'd like to, many times over.

this is marika-san's costume 👗

i was thrilled from the moment i put my arms into the sleeves...!!

i'm really sorry that it ended up taking me so long to write this blog 😭

to the people who've prepared flowers. i'm truly sorry to have kept you waiting so long for photos [with them]... 😭

it's been some time now since i've returned [from my hiatus].

my body has started adapting to the tough schedules, and i'm a little proud of myself for working hard every day.

from now on too, i'll continue running up the slope

thank you very much for reading until the end!!

let's meet again

[iamfebruaryfour]

I LIIIIIIVE!!!

Okay so if it wasn't telling enough, I have been (and I think still am) in a book reading hiatus 🥹 I'm sorry!! But life just got... so busy. But recently, life has been, well, fairly interesting.

So okay before that, HELLO!! I haven't been on tumblr since FOREVER!! My last post was 4 years ago omg! I deleted the app, and stopped going on tumblr for a while, but I redownloaded it just now cause I have soooo much to talk about. Yes it's still about books, but there's another factor added: BTS.

Yes I am ARMY now 😂 I tell you soooooo much has happened!! But i'll fast forward.

Okay so it was about sometime after i've posted my last book summary that i felt a change in me. Suddenly I was too tired to read. My eyes would fail me everytime I open a book. 5 minutes in and I'm too sleepy. It doesn't matter what genre, what kind of book. I don't know then what happened but as I looked back, I concluded that it was because of my work. I had change jobs that time and suddenly work increased, and became more challenging that I didn't realize that it sucked all the energy out of me. Slowly i stopped altogether. Even my instagram and goodreads are all still in cobwebs.

The I met the men who would ✨literally✨ change my life. There were only 3 things that made me fangirl this hard and that was Harry Potter, Taylor Swift and ARASHI, and even these three didn't compare to how i've fangirled with BTS (though i still am a potterhead, a swiftie and an arashist at heart).

Skip to the point it's getting long!! --- So as all armys know these men are hella poetic in their lyrics, especially the rapline, especially namjoon, and I truly believe it's because they love to read. I believe that, cause when I was in my bookworm era, i'd use words I never thought i'd use, and I was more confident in using them, compared to now, I really felt that I'm always short of words to use that I more often black out when I speak in english.

Okay okay so BTS, they love to read. And they have ✨book recommendations✨!! And there's so many!!! I've kept the lists and wanted to go back to it when i'm ready to read. But still, I hadn't had the will to start. Until...

Hello, Beyond the Story: 10 Year Record of BTS.

So yes I am currently reading it now and savoring EVERYTHING. Though I still feel that tiredness I was talking about, but this time I have sheer will. The need to finish this book AND read the tagalog version (which I heard and saw was really really good) is very strong.

I plan to make a post about it after I finish them, but wait, this isn't even what this post is about!!

So remember the ✨book recommendations✨ list?

Book reco list 1 (twitter)

Book reco list 2 (goodreads)

There were some titles here that I knew I already had. Some I already read, but most of them just gathered dust in my shelves (don't worry I cleaned them!!)

What I found so far that I already have, plus The Alchemist aaaand Fahrenheit 451 -- two of which I've already read so it's not currently here on my shelf, but i'll have to look for it anyway. Ah I know I have Metamorphosis somewhere here too.

The I Decided to Live As Me I bought cause of them, and I just bought The Midnight Library but I don't have it now. I read parts of it via pdf but again I hadn't finished it!! I hope I finish it now, now that I have a physical copy. Am also planning to look for Almond, the Magic Shop book and the Omelas. After that i'll stop buying and finish everything 😅

I had Me Before You but i sold it!!! Why 😩

What's funny here is as I was laying these books down to take a photo, I realized that three of the books here have bookmarks 😂 it means that I was able to start it, but hadn'd finished it.

So what does this mean for me? Am I going to be back from hiatus? 😂 To be honest I really don't know 😂 But i'm really happy that i've found a new reason to pick up a book again after so many years. I wanted to read so much, I just feel like I can't, but now i'm reading again!! Even though it's because it's about or related to BTS (though don't get me wrong i'm happy it's about BTS!), it's still something! And by seeing these laid out books of mine, i just wanna read them now.

*just adding this gif cos i miss them hahah 🥹

[pain-suffering-even]

adding more because the brainrot is real

One of the things Jongin and Yoonho bicker about is Jongin being a private school kid - not only that, but boarding school too. He makes fun of Jongin for being rich and Jongin makes fun of Yoonho for being rasied by wolves

Byungyu got a parrot when he retired, just so he would have something to take care of. He is teaching it every swear word in every language. Jongin is highly amused by it. Jinchul is almost glad Byungyu retired

Jinchul learned to mediate and multitask from taking care of his two younger siblings after his mom left and his dad decided not to pick up the slack. He's a little bitter about it still, but that's why he's so hardworking all the time

Haein and Eunseok became friends during their time in the Fame Guild with Ma Dongwook

Jongin makes fun of Yoonho for graying when he's barely 30 - its because Yoonho's hair goes white when he activates his power, but Jongin insists he's graying

Byungyu wanted to be a diagnostician due to not ever knowing what condition his grandma passed away from - he was in school for about two or three years, but when the gates appeared, he awakened as an S rank, so his dream of being a doctor was shattered since his mana was just too high to be around normal people

Haein didn't have very many friends growing up since her family moved around a lot, due to her parents being in the military

Taegyu used to tease Jongin for always having soot on his fingertips from being a mage, until he realized it was the buildup of charcoal on his fingers from drawing so much. Apparently, Jongin likes to draw whenever he can't sleep.

No matter how much Taegyu asks if Jongin has drawn him he will never answer. He knows he won't be able to live it down

There are portrait drawings of everyone, but specifically, Jongin loves recreating photos in charcoal. Sometimes, if he's inspired enough, he tries to recreate them in oil pastels. His favorite project is one of Yoonho's dogs from a photo he posted. Jongin would sooner die than admit it

Haein goes by herself to see as many movies as she can. She always enjoyed watching films when she was growing up, and if she continued school, she would have minored in it. She goes by herself because Jongin is too cynical about the endings

Byungyu loves bug hunting. One of his favorite things to do in retirement is take his pet parrot out on a walk and just see what he can find in the fields of Jeonju, his and Yoonho's hometown

Before the Jeju island fiasco, the island was fought for and traded hands many times before falling into the ownership of The Fiend Guild. Taegyu feels partially responsible for how things turned out, since he could never defeat the gate over the span of those three years...

Jinchul would love to keep up with Byungyu but he is too busy to spare time to go down to Jeonju

there you have it. i finished this draft real quick since i've been on hiatus for so long - something to tide you guys over.

also! i haven't seen the anime yet, but honestly i'm going to ignore it lmao. my headcanons and plots are already pretty insane and i think i'm just going to stick to them and enjoy the anime as it is. from what i've seen, they've changed some stuff here and there, and have made canon certain character designs i made up differently.

various headcanons that i forgot aren't actually canon

just the koreans cause if i did everyone at once, we would be here forever

Jongin and Yoonho were both part of the Fiend Guild, and that's where their rivalry started, by competing for vice guildmaster

Jongin rescued a cat from Jeju during their first raid and smuggled her back in his cape. Her name is Kiwi. He had to get a new cape because she uses his old one to sleep

Byungyu and Yoonho are childhood friends. Byungyu would always defend Yoonho, because he was so much of a softie and a crybaby as a kid

Yoonho has like. A bajillion animals at home. At some point when he's walking his dogs during a hot summer, he goes topless, and the picture reaches the papers so fast. It gets brought up in almost every single argument with Jongin

Taegyu will eat sour candy until his mouth bleeds and it sends Byungyu insane

Eunseok was an S rank assassin part of the Fame Guild, and was best friends with Byungyu and Haein

Haein was first vice of the Fame Guild before Jongin created the Hunter's Guild and stole her (he promised her no paperwork if she joined, and she was sold)

Hwang Dongsu used to be part of the Knights Guild. He joined, thinking as an S ranker he would immediately become the guild leader. When that didn't happen, he began searching overseas, where Thomas Andre ran into him and picked him up

Byungyu felt too guilty to dedicate himself to one guild, and so he freelances for a high price, so this way he can help more people instead of being tied down. It made it easier to retire, too. The running joke is that he wants to join the Hunters Association

Taegyu and Dongwook had a healthy rivalry between the Fiend and Fame guild. They don't know where Jongin and Yoonho learned to be rivals like that

The Fiend Guild used to be no. 1 until Jongin rose to the top by recruiting Haein and gathering a lot of attention by being a guild leader as a mage

Taegyu and Jongin still talk often. Jongin always makes fun of Taegyu for being ancient and forgotten and Taegyu calls him an arrogant brat. They would die for one another

Just before he became no. 1, Jongin had a really bad fight with Hwang Dongsu. It wasn't unusual, because most other S rankers despise him, since he was blatantly power hungry and bloodthirsty. Because Jongin lost, he ended up leaving Taegyu and the Fiend Guild and created his own guild in an attempt to prove his strength

Jongin despises Yoonho for hiring Hwang Dongsu's brother, Dongsuk, because he still holds a grudge

Jinchul doesn't like Taegyu very much, because he kept trying to bribe him to join the Fiend Guild. They're ok now, especially now that the Fiend Guild isn't no. 1, but Jinchul avoids Taegyu still

Go Gunhee used to pretend actually entertaining the idea of letting Jinchul join a guild until Jinchul told him it was causing problems on his end (Thomas got sad Gunhee said no and Jinchul was terrified that sadness would turn to anger)

During the holidays, Yoonho always takes his dogs and one cat back home with him. Byungyu also goes, so it's become a sort of yearly roadtrip for them. Yoonho usually asks Taegyu or Haein to pet-sit the rest of his animals while he's away

Haein likes fast food restaurants. Neither Jongin nor Dongwook understand why, but she drags them there all the same

Jinchul appreciates Byungyu and Haein, since they always mediate Yoonho and Jongin whenever he isn't around to stop them. It doesn't always work, but at least they tried

Haein doesn't know Jinchul is the origin for her nickname, The Dancer, because he was creating her hunter profile and was mesmerized by the way she fought. He mentioned it to Go Gunhee, and it kinda spiraled from there

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

088 of 2023

Just The Basics 1. How old are you?

32, soon to be 33.

2. Are you male, female, or ....?

Male.

3. What's your sexual orientation?

Gay, but asexual.

4. Where do you live?

Belgium.

5. Who do you live with?

My husband and two cats.

Family and Friends 6. Are you currently in a relationship?

I’m married.

7. Do you have any children or want any in the future?

No and no. I’m kinda stepdad to my husband’s son, and it’s enough to me.

8. How's your social life?

Pretty good. I have quite many friends.

9. How's your relationship with your immediate family?

Better than before. But I’ve always been close with my sister. And to my dad,

10. How has your eating disorder affected your social life/other relationships?

Not much, honestly. Things got better over time, but it’s not even related.

Interests and Hobbies 11. What are your hobbies?

Shortwave radio and other weird radio signals, photography, travelling.

12. What's your favorite TV show? Favorite movie?

I don’t really have favourites, and I find movies boring.

13. Do you like reading? If so, what's your favorite book?

I love reading, but I have too many favourite books to mention them all.

14. What's your favorite number?

16.

15. What's your favorite color?

Black and green.

16. What's your favorite animal?

Cat, hands down.

17. Do you have any pets?

Yeah, two cats.

18. How has your eating disorder affected the aforementioned areas of your life?

I don’t think it has affected them in any way.

Right Now 19. What's your mood right now?

Content and cheerful.

20. What's the last thing you did?

Went to Sint-Niklaas by train, took some photos, went to Ghent for shopping, came back by train.

21. What's the last thing you touched?

My laptop’s keyboard.

22. Who's the last person you talked to?

My husband. He picked me up by car.

23. What's the last thing you said?

“Food is ready”.

24. What's the last thing you ate?

Waterzooi.

25. What was the last thought that crossed your mind?

Probably M.

26. Turn to page 32 of the book nearest to you (if there is one within convenient distance) and type the first full sentence.

No, thanks.

27. If you're watching TV/something on your computer, what?

Hell’s Kitchen.

28. Is there anyone else in the room with you? Who?

Yeah, my husband and one of our cats.

29. Do you want them to go the fuck away?

Why would I?

30. What's in your purse right now?

I’m a dude. I use backpacks.

31. What are you going to do later today?

Chill out.

Life 32. What does an average day look like for you?

Taking the train and going anywhere. Tuesdays and Thursdays, working half days.

33. How has your eating disorder affected your average day as compared to before you developed it?

I don’t think it did in any way. It’s rather the source of my disorder that caused trauma and anxiety.

34. Are you in school or working? If so, what's your major/in what field do you work?

I do both. I have a degree in electrical engineering, and I’m doing yet another in Dutch language, but my uni is on hiatus now, due to my health issues. I work as an electrician in a big, French rail transport company. I produce electrical components and then install them in train carriages.

35. What's your dream job/what do you want to be when you grow up?

I love my job and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

36. Has your eating disorder affected school/work?

No, it hasn’t.

37. Eating disorder aside, what would your ideal life look like? Where would you like to live? Career? Family?

Except for health problems, I wouldn’t change anything about my life.

Diagnosis 38. Which eating disorder do you struggle with?

EDNOS.

39. Are you officially diagnosed with an ed or any other mental illnesses? If so, when were you diagnosed?

Generalised anxiety disorder and OCD. And with an ED, too.

40. Do you agree with your diagnoses?

Yeah, it’s pretty obvious I have anxiety.

41. Are you currently receiving treatment for your ed and/or related mental illness(es)? In the past?

Never for my ED, but I was taking antidepressants years before and this year I came back to them.

42. Are you on any medications?

Yeah, two different meds for epilepsy, fluoxetine for anxiety and blood pills.

43. Do your friends/family know that you have an eating disorder?

They might know, but not fully acknowledge it.

Getting Deep 44. Why do you think you have an eating disorder?

I know why. It’s trauma from sexual abuse.

45. If you're receiving treatment, what does your therapist/psychiatrist etc. say the reason behind your eating disorder is?

I’m not receiving treatment for this.

46. Do you like your eating disorder?

Honestly, I hate it.

47. If you like some aspect(s) of your eating disorder, which one(s)?

Getting invisible and bones sticking out.

48. What's the most inconvenient thing about having an eating disorder?

Everything else.

49. If you could switch the eating disorder you're currently struggling with, would you?

I would get rid of it.

Recovery 50. Are you in recovery? If not, do you want to recover?

No, but I want to recover.

51. If you're not currently in recovery or contemplating recovery, do you think you will in the future? If so, when?

In the future. Might talk about it with my psychiatrist.

52. If you're not in recovery, what's stopping you?

I keep my disorder on autopilot.

53. If you could wake up tomorrow and be cured, would you want it to happen?

Yeah, pretty much so.

Food 54. Do you actually like food?

Neither like nor dislike.

55. Do you like food more than sex?

I like everything more than sex. I have sex-related trauma.

56. What's your favorite non-eating disorder food?

Spaghetti.

57. What's your favorite eating disordered food?

Oatmeal. But I don’t categorise food like that.

58. If you could only eat five foods for the rest of your life, which ones would you choose?

Oatmeal, waterzooi, rice with veggies, yogurts and soups.

59. Do you like cooking/baking?

Cooking yes, baking not really.

60. Do you like going out to eat at restaurants? If so, do you have a favorite?

I do, but I do it rarely.

61. Have you ever worked in a food-type setting (grocery store, restaurant etc.)?

No, I haven’t.

Girls (or Boys) Gone Wild 62. Do you smoke cigarettes?

No, never even tried.

63. Do you drink caffeine? If so, what's your beverage of choice?

I do, but limited. I usually have caramel/vanilla latte.

64. Do you drink alcoholic beverages? If so, what's your poison?

Not anymore. I’m not allowed with my medication.

65. Do you use drugs of any kind? If so, which one(s)?

No, not interested.

66. Have you ever been arrested? If so, why?

No.

67. Have you ever been to jail?

No.

68. Do you have any tattoos?

Yes, two on my forearms.

69. Do you have any piercings?

Eight in total: 3x left ear, 2x right ear, 2x lower lip and left eyebrow.

70. Has your eating disorder affected any of these aforementioned areas of your life, decisions to partake in substances, or decisions to alter your physical body?

No. I always liked tattoos and piercings.

[hisredhysteria]

"You pull me by my hair, so I don't go nowhere."

Note: I said I wanted to write something yandere... Just for fun again while I write a story for Cutthroat. Depending on how I'm feeling, requests might be written slower because I want to write two longer stories for Cutthroat (one hopefully involving Doctor) and then one for each Courier and Hacker.

TW: toxic relationships, possessive, yandere's...murder, manipulation?

Summary: hcs for a famous (?) reader with yandere Hacker, Courier, and Cutthroat ...I don't really specify what kind of famous the reader is so these are in a way general I suppose...the idea somewhat came from the meaning behind the song

Hacker

It's not that he isn't happy for your success because....well, he's not.

Every last moment with Hacker will bleed nothing but underlying hostility until his end goal is reached.

Hacker deals a great hand in not only his possessive feelings towards you, but also the jealousy he feels for you being the one to attract the most admiration of the two of you.

Nothing makes Hacker want to knock someone else down a level quite like when they needlessly fawn over you. He'll keep his tongue tied as long as possible, but the look on his face might just say the words he's wishing to speak.

He knows well that if he were to in some way damage your reputation, he'd be to blame though. Which in hindsight would burden the relationship and possibly cause you to leave him. His goal is to win. Not lose.

Hacker makes it very well known to you that he thinks you interacting with your fans is for the most part meaningless...

He doesn't like it when others acknowledge that your existence is in some way a shared experience. Your fans could never know you the same way he does, so what's the point in wasting time on an empty conversation followed by a picture together?

A picture that he's more often than not being left out of.....

He's not usually one to cause a commotion either, however the moment he sees a fan wrap their arm around your waist for a photo without so much as asking is when he's decided enough is enough. That's something only he can have the luxury of doing, and even he's more careful about doing it than them.

There's no longer any need to remind others that you're his when he inevitably begins to wipe out any competition.

Interviews? Delayed by the onset of technical difficulties. Fan meet ups? Same thing and they're lucky he didn't short circuit anything and cause a fire to erupt.

Comments on your social media...? You don't need validation from anyone other than him. Deleted. In fact, as the days pass you find every single one of your accounts has been "accidentally" deleted in one way or another.

He's good at making your team and manager look bad as well because of all the mishaps going on that they can never seem to find permanent solutions to. When you get into a falling out with them, Hacker enjoys every minute of it....knowing that the stress of it all is causing you to slowly break.

He's the one that suggests you take some sort of hiatus from your fame as well....you know, so that you think he cares most about your well-being and career...

But instead, he's just succeeded in finally isolating you from the rest of the world.

Courier

Cool, calm, and collected, Courier goes about his jealousy in a way that many can write off as him just being tired or weary of the constant barrage of attention you draw in. In which case, they wouldn't be wrong...

Courier can tolerate most things, watching you have small talk with your fans just barely being one. You'll always catch him giving them a following glance as they walk off from you though...a gentle, but negative comment under his breath to suit the situation couldn't hurt occasionally either...

If the conversation seems to go too into depth with a fan or it lasts longer than Courier expects, he wastes no time intervening with a simple, "I've had enough." ..Even an "I don't got all day" if he's hoping you'll wrap it up sooner rather than later. He knows it makes him look bad, but at some point he really can't stop the jealousy from seeping through.

He's also one to guide you in other directions if he sees someone eyeing you with the intention of getting a greeting, signature, or picture. He'll purposely shoot the person a fatal eye if it will ward them off too. Perhaps Courier even bluntly shuts them down by saying you don't have time. All before you even get to say so much as a single word.

He's definitely forced you to leave fans in the dust by riding off on his motorcycle, of course with you on the back. Then later he'll end up making an excuse about how they weren't necessarily worth your time anyways. In fact, who said it was someone that wanted to see you? It's not rare that strangers beckon others over for help with directions. Maybe that was the case instead.

Courier questions you more often than not about attending any business and events, big or small. As you're about to leave he'll ask you where you think you're going. When you tell him where....he gives you a look that says, you're really going to that..?

He's also taking you to said destination, whether he planned for it or not. He won't let anyone else do it. Even if it means he'll be on a time crunch later. He doesn't like it when you try to protest either.

Courier is also eerily waiting for you outside when anything ends. It doesn't matter if you already had a ride planned, he's the better option.

When he accompanies you on any business trips, he's very attentive to what people are approaching you and he's good at asking around to find something out if he feels he needs to. When you're not looking, he's most certainly gauging the motives of those around you. No one is allowed to get too close.

He's also not leaving your side on any trips. Even if he's in the background of a set and you don't necessarily notice him... he's watching. He always is..

He despises interviews. Why does anyone other than him need insight to your personal life?

Courier's end goal was never to take you from the lavish life you have under the attention of many, although as his attachment to you strengthens...he becomes more domineering in the ways he goes about things. The start was just him biting it all back and letting things slowly slip.

His suggestions to avoid certain situations or people start to sound more like requests and demands. If he doesn't want you talking to a specific person you work with, you won't.

Eventually you'll start to feel suffocated by Courier's looming presence one way or another, but by then.. who knows how far he'll take it?

Cutthroat

The fact that others fawn over you really doesn't seem to worry him all too much to begin with. It's when your attention starts to stray from him that things can get a little tricky.

Everything will seem fine at first....all except for the fact that he absolutely refuses to leave your side no matter what. You have to be on his arm at any and every event. If you mention going somewhere without him, you'll be given one or all of a few things—

Emotional outbursts, half-hearted and selfish argumentive points coming from only his perspective. Even going as far as to tie your wrist to the furniture if it means you're not leaving without him. Most times he'll cheerfully let you go as long as you agree to find a way that allows him to accompany you. It's just the initial hurt of being told he can't get what he wants from you that occasionally makes him lash out.

If you stick with your no, then he'll have no choice but to entertain you himself instead. He really doesn't want to keep you tied since it makes it harder to do fun things....but he'll find a way to make it work since he knows for sure now that you won't be leaving.

He might be the reason why you begin to miss out on so many business opportunities or chances to further in your career.

Cutthroat is however, your biggest supporter if you do go out together. The fans don't bother him~! The closer they get, the easier they are to kill—!

Well, some fans will be spared....those entertaining enough to distract him. If there was one in particular that he feels took up more of your attention or physical affection than he's willing to share, he'll give that fan a following glance when they finally walk off. Their time is up with you and he'll make it clear if he sees them come near again.

Cutthroat hates watching you hug fans specifically. Hugs are supposed to be for him only. He may whine about it first and you should take that as a warning. They'll be dead whether others are watching or not if something doesn't change about how close that other person is to you.

It's safe to probably say that you wouldn't really need body guards with Cutthroat around...but in the case you do have them, it's best to never acknowledge they're even there. They follow you around as much as he does, so one word to them will give him the wrong idea. Don't wonder if they all go missing.

Now that you think of it, people around you always seem to go missing sooner or later...

Quickly, Cutthroat tires from always having to share you with others and that's when his violent side becomes rather obvious.

He's likely to snap in a crowd of people following you. Once he's killed the first person that comes too close to you though...it's too good not to kill the others as they run and scream for their lives...this is what they deserve, isn't it..? For bothering his angel..?

If that doesn't happen first, there will come a day where he isn't able to pout enough for you to cancel an interview on your calendar. As such, he subsequently follows you to the interview, kicking his feet back and forth in a chair off camera. Soon enough he gets bored of hearing them ask you personal questions only he should know the answers to.

Cutthroat decides it'd be more fun to throw a knife in the interviews neck~ ....Don't look all sad....he was trying to show you a knife trick...did it work...are you impressed..?

Now, everyone on live television knows you're dating a murderer~! Not a problem though...as the security guards go to detain him....he kills them next.

Your only real option is to run away with Cutthroat and hide your identity. Breaking up with him is only an option if you don't mind being caged for the rest of your life. He's killing anyone that comes in attempts at taking you from him too..!