#I say this as in this is the single coolest and most perfect tattoo I have ever seen

[questing-wulfstan]

It would obviously be a terrible idea to get a tattoo on my hand, which can't be hidden without looking suspicious, but the absolute URGE I have to get Die's scales tattoo on myself 🥺😔

[ulabewriting]

Karter Foreman-McGuire.

he/him.

TW : mention of smoking, bad relationship with parents and coming-out(going good tho)

– Nigerian, adopted in Benin City.

– Capricorn.

– Transgender / AFAB.

– Tattoo artist.

• part of the “don’t give a fuck about being rich” duo. (skyh’s bestie<3)

• rejects every single one of his parent’s “beliefs” and morals.

• will never forgive them for the poor treatment of Liz. (clearly the sibling he’s closest to, jokingly calls her his “favorite”.)

• chillest person you’ve ever met.

• until the topic is his parents. he gets very tense.

• somehow knows everything about everyone. (that means he’s the best to gossip with ;] )

• is insanely scared of love and getting into a relationship. (he freaked out soooo bad when he realized his feelings for you–)

• loves people very deeply though. There are no words to describe the intensity of his feelings for his siblings, friends and you.

• a skater guy. (the cliché one listening to some mean linkin park, yeah, yeah, yeah.)

• loves drawing and painting. he regularly adds little drawings on his skateboard.

• one of the most creative people you’ll ever meet.

• becoming a tattoo artist has always been his dream.

• would go into mind break if you ask him to tattoo you. He’d be so touched and flattered you’d trust him with something such, he could cry.

• doesn’t have any tattoos himself though.

• wears long sleeves all the time, no matter the season and temperature.

• « You ever think about, like, how… . . damn, I forgot what I was saying. . . .Anyway, you hungry ? »

• LOVES to have movie night dates with you. both of you, cuddles, coraline playing in the back. perfection.

• random guy with a random sense of humour. definitely the type to find elaborated jokes unfunny but will be cry-laughing because of a goofy horn noise.

• is into urbex. loves to find and explore the most rannndom, weirrrrd places. it kind of freaks you out sometimes but it makes him happy so oh well. :)

• « I swear ! I found the coolest place; apparently it’s an ancient hospital where patients used to summon evil spirits. We haaaave to go tonight ! Imagine if we hear like… weird laughs and little voices and shit. That’s so sick??? »

• absolutely hates alcohol. grape juice though ? he needs it to function.

• he's the jealous type. (but won't everrrr admit it; he'll pout and whine if you mention it.)

• writes lyrics of his favorite songs on the sole of his shoes.

• Oliver and him, as the « only bros of the pack », love to roleplay as exaggerated dudebros/toxic masculinity fucks from time to time and they always get cut short by Dominic and Liz’ disapproving glares, which only causes them to giggle stupidly and exchange knowing glances. dudebros in their own bubble i guess–

• draws little hearts and stars on your skin. (would definitely color your tattoos if you have some!)

• the funny introvert of the group.

• laughs very easily. he looks scary until he flashes you the whitest, largest, most genuine smile eveR.

• kind of has fangs. cute little fangs. (and he bites to show his love, so yeah, prepare yourself–)

• obsessed with belts. He has a whole collection and it’s quite impressive–

• his love languages ? quality time and acts of service.

• plays guitar.

• calls you ‘precious’.

• it was his dream to join a band when he was in high school.

• sings you sweet lullabies when you can’t sleep – he has a beautiful, soothing voice, so it never takes you long to fall asleep.

• he was scared to death about coming out. Naturally, the first person he confided in was Liz, when he was 17. She had the sweetest, most supportive reaction and it really encouraged him to fully step out of the closet. By the time he was 20, he was out to the whole family, including his parents.

• has a special spot in his heart for Oliver. After all, he’s always been his ‘masculine role model’. (cause it sure as hell wasn’t his father lmao)

• remembers everything about you. even the smallest, ‘stupidest’ details.

• jokes about hating men all the time, and blames everything on them. The dishwasher not working ? Yeah, probably some man's fault. One of Celestia's designer bags missing ? Random dog barking in the streets ? Global warming ? MEN.

• very supportive. He’s the fondest about anything you do; he's always hyping up Mickayla’s brand and still wears her first pieces, he always showed up to Skyh’s plays even though he hates theater…No matter how uninterested he may seem; he deeply cares about what is going on around him and his loved ones.

• only wears silver jewelry, and you won’t ever catch him running around in the streets without a choker on.

• loves matching with you. phone cases, necklaces, bracelets, nail art – anything. anything as long as it's you.

• likes pda. Holding hands, hugging you, squeezing your waist, locking an arm around your shoulders… there’s no way you two go out and his hands are not everywhere on you.

• never smokes when you’re around. (unless you smoke as well, in that case; he will insist to light up your cigarette, it always brings a little smile to his lips when he does it.)

• wears strawberry chapstick 24/7. He can’t live without it.

• draws you all the time. He has lots of random sketches on the corner of his notebooks’ pages and big ass paintings of you hidden under his bed – he’s scared you’d find him too obsessive and creepy if you found out how many of those he has.

• a sucker for cartoons. If you wait for him on his bed, ready to cuddle, an episode of teen titans on the tiny TV in his room, he’ll wrap himself around you like a blanket and never let go–

• reserved, but very vocal about his dislikes. Like if someone says something he has a problem with, he’ll say it. He won’t be rude about it, but he’ll definitely make it crystal clear.

• one of his dreams is to have a matching tattoo with all his siblings. Something discreet and meaningful; a symbol for the unique, disconcerting experience that being a Foreman-McGuire is.

• « You look like a whole ass museum all by yourself, precious. I could look at you forever… and as a matter of fact, I will. »

[cicaklah]

my girl @ronniebox tagged me and so here we go!

Rules: List ten books that have stayed with you in some way, don’t  take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard - they don’t have to  be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman - my mother gave me this book to read when I was maybe 11, it was her copy that she had bought when Pratchett came and gave a reading at our local library in like, 1992. I'd say no book has been more formative to me, but in writing this I don't think thats true.

The City and the City by China Mieville - I got into Mieville through my girl @crimeandcricket, and was horribly traumatised by the body horror in perdido street station, and was way too influenced by his often pretentious writing style, but the city and the city is a masterpiece I'll never recover fully from and changed me for the better.

The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian - I'm fairly sure no one but me loves this book, but it is also a book that multiple people stopped me when I was reading in public just from the cover image. My favourite kind of book is a book that can only be written by one person, and Adrian is a theologian and paediatrician, and this book uses every single one of his hyperfixations and also made me cry more than anything else.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster - Actually, this book probably did more to calcify my sense of humour than Pratchett did. The smartest, funniest, coolest children's book ever, and this has reminded me to get the tattoo of Tock on my wrist.

Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfield - I read this every christmas morning as a treat to myself. I also adore White Boots, the ice skating book, but Ballet Shoes is such a perfect gem of a story that is the favourite of my grandmother, my mother and myself.

Shabanu/Daughter of the Wind by Suzanne Fisher Staples - The first book that made me cry, inspired my fondness for camels and was probably my first feminist awakening? I've only read one of the sequels, but it was so brutal I still haven't emotionally recovered entirely.

The Amateur Cracksman by E. W Hornung - my mastermind specialist subject, a book that consumed me across time and space, Raffles my beloved, Bunny my beloved, I remember the moment I read the first story and my life changed literally forever. The Black Mask and A Thief In The Night are also obviously amazing and really all three should be considered one book, but something in my life changed for the better when I read the line 'AJ Raffles would be my friend!' in The Ides of March and I realised oh no, they're mine now.

Exhalation by Ted Chiang - very hard for me to choose a Ted Chiang story so thankfully I will pick his second collection, which has The Life Cycle of Software Objects and also the one about the parrots. It does not have Hell is the Absence of God or stories of your life, but tbh, software objects was the first of his stories I ever read, so it deserves to be here, even if it guts me like a fish every time.

Rivals by Jilly Cooper - if I could have anyone's writing career, it would be Jilly Cooper's. Everytime I read this insane soap opera of a book it holds me hostage until I finish it, and its like 700 pages long. The most wonderfully 80s OTT sex farce about horrible people trying to buy an ITV franchise. I genuinely can't believe that disney plus are making it into a series.

The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson - One of his least famous books and yet I think his best? I had read the Mars books several times before I picked this up, but this alternate history where 90% of Europe are killed by the black death, following how world history changes through the eyes of characters who reincarnate but always find each other, somehow??? it grabbed me by the throat and never let go.

tell me YOUR formative texts pls @crimeandcricket @deputychairman @myth-blossom @skylightpirate @stickthisbig @apricotbones @postalninja @cajunandfire @within-infant-rind

[killaura]

tagged by beloved mutual @columbosunday to share my 9 favorite album covers (this was very fun to narrow down I have sooo many favorites. prepare for info dumping and personal anecdotes below <3)

Tom Waits, Small Change (1976) // coveted number one spot. I’ve loved this photo with my whole heart since the day I first laid eyes on this album. fully encapsulates the feeling of listening to Tom Waits to me

Black Sabbath, self titled (1970) // goddddd this photo. apparently most of the shoot the model was naked but this image of her huddling to stay warm in a freaky witch cloak ended up being theee shot (yeah I have researched most my favorite album art before and love pulling out that info when given the opportunity ok? it’s fine)

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Let Love In (1994)// Nick Cave you will always be famous and beautiful to me. I love portraiture and (it’s a running theme) I love pink. simple and perfect. also a perfect album title

The Kills, Midnight Boom (2008) // this is like. thee band photo of all time to me. I based my personality and personal style off of this album and alison mosshart for a LONG time and still kind of do. means a lot to me

Hole, Live Through This (1994) // love Ellen Von Unwerth so fucking much and also this concept. this is Hole to me. instantly recognizable and (gotta say it again) iconic. reminds me of jawbreaker with rose mcgowan, which is a movie of all time

The Strokes, Is This It (2001) // so iconic. so fucking iconic. this is one that you see for the first time at 14 and it’s burned into your brain. possibly the root of why I’m so horny for leather gloves, I don’t know

The White Stripes, Hello Operator/Jolene single (2000) // my favorite portrait of Meg White, I almost got a tattoo based off of it (still might)!! I still get this haircut every couple years, I still save peppermint themed things, I love you forever Megan Martha White

The Sadies, New Seasons (2007)// this album cover reminds me of a photo I took like 14 years ago and I remember that day and that person and how the light felt sooo distinctly, I love the way this photo makes me feel. it’s soft, gauzy nostalgia and a little bit of puppy love. you’re so cool

Alexisonfire, self titled (2002)// maybe the coolest thing in the world is to describe your sound as ‘two catholic school girls in a knife fight’ like come ON. in perfect diy fashion, these photos were taken by the lead singer. this image has taken up space in my head, rent free, since I first saw it

tagging: @pray1ngmantis @sadtiredqueer @p4nsy @endalaust @meat-wentz @stabbingandorbeingstabbed @leatherdaddyteach @youstakemyheart @void-flesh (literally zero pressure if you don’t wanna, I just know you all have excellent aesthetic/music taste and I found this kinda fun <3)

[sloshed-cinema]

The Monster Squad (1987)

Sure, he gave us The Nice Guys and Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang, but anyone shocked over the whole “magical autism” debacle in The Predator need look no further than The Monster Squad to realize that Shane Black has always been capable of poor taste. 80s kiddie comedies might be the single most over appreciated genre, and for how much we love to salivate over The Goonies or masturbate furiously to the increasingly insipid nostalgia fest that is Stranger Things, this horror-comedy is perhaps the perfect distillation of everything wrong with comedic writing at the time. Kids call each other ‘faggot’ with a frequency unparalleled outside of Quentin Tarantino’s fabled N-word pass. A girl being and not being a virgin are equally poked fun at. A man is first used as a sort of xenophobic “other” and then proves a useful tool. The fat kid farts and has handy pizza-weapons on hand. And in the crowning achievement, Homelander Dracula calls an illiterate five-year-old girl a bitch. Sure, all of this is offensive on some level or other, but I’m not offended. I’m just bored. Lazy, low effort bully-humor feels perfectly of a part with a period when mom and dad were fighting, everything was weirdly socially conservative, and freedom of expression was mostly just used to deride other people. That the little kid casually has a Confederate Army hat in one scene with a Stars and Bars patch is all that needs to be said. No thoughts or inner questioning. Just vitriol as comedy. This has the coolest tree fort clubhouse of all time, but it’s hard to appreciate it when everyone is just berating one another. Anxieties experienced by a kid over their parents’ arguments are very real, but this utterly lacks the empathy of something like Close Encounters of the Third Kind, preferring random sequences of domestic violence inserted at random. It simply cannot find its footing, and settles for the path of irksomeness. That said, the reveal that the Scary German Guy is a Holocaust survivor is the best joke in the entire movie. “Gee, you really know a lot about monsters.” “Yes, I guess I do.” Camera pans to the serial number tattoo on his forearm The only way that could have been better is if he’d just never appeared in the film again after that.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'monster' or 'Von Helsing'.

80s homophobia: start 'em young!

Reference to a horror author or director.

BIG DRINK

A new monster joins the squad.

Children just start screaming.

Someone throws a stick of dynamite.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AWW MY LOVELY ARIII 💞 i’m incredibly sorry that this was so late, i had the fattest nap ever known to both man AND womankind (13 whole hours is WILD 🤯). whelp ig it’s just my sleep debt catching up on me :((( but tysm for checking up on me bby! i rly hope uve had a good day today. don’t forget to eat well, drink water nd get those full 8 hours of well deserved sleep!!

ahhh work was sm chiller than i expected yesterday. i work part time at mecca (australian equivalent for sephora) and there was not a single 12 year old sephora kid in sight! phewww 😮‍💨 i remember once, majority of my shift was spent cleaning the glow recipe aisle bc some 10 year old thought it was a good idea to spill the samples everywhere 😭 that was not fun hsjsjs

AND OMFG TOJI W SUNNIES 😻😻 the things i wld do to see toji in summer istg. ig i just have a thing for dilfs atp 🤷‍♀️ hahaha i doubt i cld fix him tho but iss okk 🥲 ALSO ALSO YOU AND SUGU WLD WORK SO WELL TOGETHER HSHSHSH. relationship goals right there!

uni bf sugu wld definitely have a tattoo or two asw as some piercings. no bc why do i feel like a helix piercing wld suit him SO WELL THO. like i genuinely believe sugu’s jewellery game wld be unbeatable. like i can see his piercings and all that (cs i picture him with more than one piercing iykwim) lookinf so aesthetically pleasing and HAJSJSJK. also the turtle necks are SO REALL. like he would 100% wear glasses whilst he’s in his dorms or maybe during campus asw. ++ i feel like he wld suit those reading glasses so well but he’d be the type to wear it occasionally and i can just imagine like most of his classmates like ‘wait you wear glasses!? 😮’ rahh we were robbed of a uni geto fs :(

also i saw how ur a lit major and can i just say that’s like the coolest thing ever what?? hsjsjsj lit majors seem so so cool omg. oddly specific question but dy guys have like a certain amount of time you spend reading a certain book?? if so, how long is it usually? ahh i’m sorry if that was a stupid question 😭 i read INCREDIBLY slow but i wanna get back into it yk. my reading slump’s been going on for far too long but idk which book to read to help me get out of said reading slump hshshsh. i’m still in awe that ur a lit major tho 🥹 like i hold utmost respect for all lit major students. i shldve guessed that u majored in lit/smth remotely to do with creative writing bcs your sugu drabble was written so BEAUTIFULLY AHHH. okok my words probably don’t do it any justice but it was just written so well to the point it was mind blowing yk? ahh i wish my brain worked like urs!! i 100% see sugu as that caring and doting bf who’d just be hyper aware of everything about you down to the smallest things ever. he’s just so sweet and so loveable istg 🥰🥰 i think about cult leader geto at least once everyday (roman empire much!) but i literally cannot emphasise how much i loved ur geto drabble omfg. the yearning was just 🤌🤌🤌 especially during that scene where mc brought up how sugu must’ve loved his bsf a lot, the change in his mannerisms were so subtle yet it was so evoking at the same time. like sure it was subtle, but it was enough for mc to k that she had hit a sore spot. also i just thought it was perfect in symbolising the strong bond sugu had w toru. like the mere mention of toru wld cause sugu to have like sm nostalgic memories rush back to him. HAKSJSJ thank u sm for gracing us w your drabble bby. im not even exaggerating when i say that it genuinely pulled my heartstrings HARD. hshshsh it was such an enjoyable read!

btw to answer ur question earlier, i’m currently pursuing my bachelor of biomedicine with a major in integrated dental sciences. i’m a stem girly thru and thru. idk australia has this funky thing where we specialise in our degrees almost instantly (i’m not too sure if it’s the same for other countries).

++ i was scrolling on pinterest earlier and i came across this

HELLO WHY CAN I LOWK PICTURE SUGU JUST MUNCHING ON HIS BAGUETTES IDK 😭 emily in paris who? i only know suguru geto in paris 😌

tysm for taking the time to read all this ari 💗 i appreciate you so so much. hope you’ve had a good day/night so far! mwah ilyyy <333

UKI MY DEAREST <3333 no need to apologize pls!! i’m so happy that you got a bunch of rest!!!!! :33 AND I’M SO GLAD WORK WAS CHILL TOO gosh the glow recipe thing…. 😭😭 u have my condolences. i’m proud of you for working so hard!! pls pat yourself on the back since i can’t 🫂🫂

DILF LOVERS UNITE BTW i’m soooo weak for toji…….. for all the jjk dilfs actually……… they’re just so good. toji w sunnies is gonna rot in my brain atp he would look so perfect 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ur brain is so big uki. AND EVERYTHING ABT COLLEGE BF SUGU PLS HAVE MERCY ON MY HEARTTTTT he makes me feel ill………… THE HELIX PIERCINGGGG YOU’RE SO RIGHT!!!! and him wearing glasses in his dorm….. i would simply Explode he’s sooooo bf it’s crazy :(((((

AAA AND YOU’RE A BIO MAJOR THAT’S SO COOL WHAT????? dental care too!!!!!! stem girlies have my heart and respect always always always 🙏🙏🙏 in my brain the stem girlies and liberal arts majors r holding hands :33 we respect u sm yknow!!! as for your question……. honestly i don’t rlly keep track of how long it takes me to read a certain book 😭😭 i think i usually work under the assumption that i read like. one page per minute?? ish??? but that also totally depends on the format…. so i can’t rlly give u a sure answer :’3 BUTTT pls never be discouraged to read a book just bc u read slow!! that’s normal!!!! reading becomes so much more enjoyable when you find a book that you enjoy and have fun reading, and at the point the time won’t matter bc you’ll be done before you know it!! aaa i’d love to give you some recs but i’d have to know more abt your taste 😭 a book i read recently that wasn’t toooo long + was written beautifully + made me cry LMAO is ”the travelling cat chronicles” by hiro arikawa!! if you like cats it’s def for you :33 usually when i find books to read i check a summary and some quotes just to get a feel for it, so that’s a good idea if you wanna find one that suits your taste!!

……. i hope that’s at least . a little bit helpful PHDKDBF i’m sorry uki 😭😭 i’m probably the least competent lit major when it comes to giving advice on reading BUT i’m cheering you on!!!! literature is sooooo genuinely wonderful when you aren’t being forced to read a book you don’t like for school lmao. and if you want recs my dms and inbox r always open for u!!! don’t hesitate to ask <333

aaaaaaaa but uki 🥺🥺🥺🥺 pls i cried you are SO unbelievably sweet ….. ur tags on the geto drabble made me feel so warm!!!!! and i’m just so giddy that u liked it!!!!! all ur words r so kind pls T—T i also love and adore cult leader geto…. i genuinely think he would be so soft and doting and sickeningly devoted to his beloved. he just loves them so much his heart completely overflows :(( our nostalgic sappy wife……….. he means the world to me

AND PLSSSS THE SUGU PIC 😭😭😭 he’s so sillyyyyyyy i love him sm <333 ty for that cute little treat hehe, i hope your day/night is going super well too!!! and tysm for taking the time to write this out, i love chatting w you <333 here are some other silly gojo images in return >:3 … the resemblance is uncanny i fear . our kitty cat of all time !!!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ IT'S NOT JUST A TATTOO ❜

✨ REQUEST BY ANON: Hiiiiiiiii! Can I get a HC on Happy telling his girl he loves her, wants her to be his OL and get his crow? Pleeeease.

✨ REQUEST BY @ocetevasgirl: Hola cielo! Can I request "Don't look at me like that" with Happy please? 💕☺️

Words: about 1.2k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.

❚❙ HAPPY LOWMAN MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

There's something that has grown inside him, like a seed planted in the ground, the first time you kissed him. You were flirting with Happy since the very first moment you met him. And even if he thought it was just for fun, the alcohol helped to show him you were serious.

He doesn't hide his acts anymore.

It's been three months since you two started to play.

Sex is good. Sex is pretty good. Your bodies look like they were made for each other. You understand the other to perfection. Every move is made in sync. He really loves the bite you have with him for making him moan, due he's too low. But you always get it.

He wasn't used to touching you, holding hands, or kissing you in front of his brothers. It has happened in two or three situations, very rarely, very randomly. And you have noticed that for two weeks, more or less: he doesn't hide his acts anymore.

Happy likes to watch you fixing some bikes at Teller-Morrows. He likes the way your hand moves, bolting, painting a hood, checking the pressure (...). Your fingers dance all around with delicate and accurate touches. He could be by your side for hours enraptured on the tasks your hands attend to.

Whenever he loses control or his calm, he goes to find you wherever you are. As soon as you're close enough, Happy sinks his nose in one side of your neck. Takes a deep, deep, deep long breath and presses his lips over your throbbing carotid artery. Your heart beating and pumping brings back his cool. Your fingers gently and slowly caressing the back of his head helps too.

He has been needing to have his hands on you the whole time. At least, one. On your lower back, around your forearm, gripping your wrist, on your nape, on your thighs (...). Anywhere is valid to him. It's not a way to mark his territory, but to make you feel that he is there, that you don't need protection but he protects you, that he likes your tact. 

And it's funny how he is like your personal bartender in SOA parties. You want a glass of whisky, rum, gin? He brings you a bottle of your favorite one. Your beer is almost empty? He finds the coolest in the fridge for you. Are you hungry? He prepares you a sandwich, in the clubhouse kitchen. Sometimes, the guys tease him about it, but he doesn't care anymore. Happy only wants to make you feel comfortable, attended, loved. Happy.

He has never danced in his life, but when Mayans come to Charming and play latin music, it's impossible for him to not try to dance with you; watching you provoking him with the moves of your hips swinging and that shameless smile on your lips that only he owns. 

Marcus has taught him some basic moves? Marcus has taught him some basic moves.

He already loves you. He loves every single thing about you. The way you have to imitate his favorite cartoons' voices. The way you have to understand and read his body when there are no words from him. The way you take care of his wounds, without asking what happened, who he has killed. The way your lips feel around all his length, tightly and warmly closed, sucking out the air of his lungs.

He wants to tell you about his feelings. But he doesn't know how to do it. Happy feels insecure that you're not in his orbit, that you do it only because sex is from another dimension. He has asked Chibs because Tig would simply advise him about fucking the hell out of you against a wall and keep doing it until you get tired of his dick. Chibs has told him to be sincere, to use the confidence between the two of you, and ask you about what you want.

But when he comes to you, simply saying “what 'you want from me”, he scares the shit out of you. This time, you can't read in his eyes what is happening within his head. You can't decipher his intentions. Is he going to finish whatever you have? His rough, dry voice hasn't helped either.

“What 'you want from me?” Asking you again, as if you were stupid, only makes you feel worst. Your heart is racing, your throat is closed. You have been working hard to show him that you don't want him for a couple of night-stands; that you really understand him, that you love him, that you want to spend your whole life enjoying his silence. And after all, it seems like it's the end. 

“I… want you”. Probably, your words aren't enough for him, watching how he tilts his head just like a confused puppy would do. Something clicks in his head, connecting the two neurons left that aren't damaged for his assassin personality. 

“I want you to be my Old Lady”. 

Then, your heart stops.

“I love you”.

Then, your heart jumps back to life.

Being an Old Lady doesn't mean only that you're the girl of. It means that you're part of SAMCRO, part of the family. That you have to defend the club with your life, after defending your man. It means being loyal as fuck. 

But it also, and most importantly, it means to wake up with his arms around you and going to sleep together every night he's in Charming, drunk or sober. It means furtive kisses whenever and wherever. It means being loved by the loveliest and mortal man on earth. Because yes, he is both things. Happy can't help but spend his time covering you with all kinds of caresses. Happy can't help but spend his time whispering to you that he can't imagine a life without you, that he loves your laugh, that he loves the way your fingers trace every tattoo in his body.

Talking about tattoos… “I want you to get my crow”.

“Then, I want you to tattoo it. What? Don't look at me like that… I know you can do it”.

He can't wait to come back to his house.

He feels fucking powerful retiring the tracing paper from your forearm. The crow is big. The crow is visible. The crow is his.

Happy feels fucking powerful delineating every black line on your skin, before coloring it with the same ink. As your eyes are on his extra concentrated face, your free hand is rested over his right thigh.

It's a piece of art.

You love it.

You love him.

After covering it with cling film to not stain the sheets, when it starts to expulse the excess of ink, Happy kisses it. Happy kisses every single damn inch of it, feeling your other hand caressing the back of his head.

Putting away all the stuff, he urges you to sit on his lap. Facing him. Your legs spread at both sides of the chair. His lips roaming your neck with soft bites, with some grunts when your hips rock slowly over the bulge under his sweatpants. His lips find yours. His tongue finds yours. Your nails gently scratch his bare chest, redrawing invisibly the serpent in it.

For the first time, he doesn't fuck you. He makes you love. He's careful, he doesn't move fast. He covers all your body with magical and sweets caresses. He makes sure that you enjoy them. Happy makes sure that you feel the love he feels for you, in every touch, in every moan he utters, in every move he does.

[frappe-art]

I wanna ask one piece cuz thats what frappe likes best and i want to ask jjk cuz thats what ill actually understand so maybe just do both :3

i severely underestimated how hard this would've been so i said fuck it i can put 2 chars per category if i want (ill do op tomorrow bc TOO MANY CHARACTERS TO RANT ABOUT)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Megumiii! at first i really appreciated that gege refused the sasuke-rival trope with him and made him and yuuji just bffs, and his n toji’s subplot is my fav in jjk. Everything about this kid makes me soft and also I want his technique, imagine being able to summon pets to snuggle whenever you want, doggos, masked birds, FUCKING ELEPHANTS

Gojo tho takes the medal for character I think about the most, but I was tempted to put him in horse plinko. I love making fun of him ok? He’s so perfect in every aspect except personality that I cannot bully him every two sentences.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

Yuuji and his million watt smile. He’s the extroverted friend who brings the sun to Megumi and, as a certified introverted, I can’t help but adore him just like Megumi does

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Yuki, I just think she’s hilarious, powerful as a goddess and still running from her responsibilities, found a scrubby kid and decided she wanted to train him, and somehow todo’s personality happened. Also yukichoso owo

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

toji. he’s not obscure, but he has v little screentime AND I WANT TO TALK ABOUT HIM OK? This man is the absolute worst, almost sold his kid, is a manwhore without a penny because he’s a shit at gambling, a stinking bum and still he keeps haunting the narrative and being bigger than life even after dying, and when gojo isn’t around he snatches all the coolest scenes. I want give him a hug and put him in the washing machine.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

problematic? do I hear problematic? Sukuna then. not unpopular but who cares. 1) I love his tattoos and no I wont stop saying it. 2) he’s such an amazing concept, having mc and villain sharing the same body and not going for the “he’s not that bad, he’s just a powerup” trope. Sukuna is smart, a menace, fucking powerful and he actively works against yuuji, while yuuji is unable let alone to use him, but also to keep a single secret from him. Ah and he’s a villain with a top notch evil laugh who loves theatrics.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

I don’t hate naoya, but I want to slap him so bad. I want to move all the furniture in his house 3 cm to the left and watch him bump his thumb against every corner. I want to replace the whipped cream on his cake with toothpaste and his conditioner with mayonnaise.

also gojo for all the reasons above

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

kenjaku. I want geto back and that toothy brain thing gives me the creeps.

[fourfucksake]

online meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, stripping, masturbation

word count: 4.2k

p.s this workpiece is set in an alternative reality. this is a professor!chris one shot + i imagined y/n as a black girl, but i hope every single one of you lovely people will read!

Heaps of new policies bombarded universities since the spread of the virus. The amount of preparation and paperwork that had to be completed due to the newest conditions in the teaching system made everyone stressed to the maximum level. Perhaps, that’s why teachers communicated more during those challenging times; only those who work in the same environment can relate to your work frustrations. Individuals whom before appeared almost invisible where now your online buddies. It was quite incredible though.

Chris enjoyed the feeling of this community being available for him whenever he feels like expressing his irritations and or simply desires to moan about his dislikes. Before, he has never considered himself to be a whiner, but since everyone has been constantly moaning and pouting, he thought this is the right time to join the club.

Taking into consideration the current state of the world he was assured that everyone is a complainer right about now. He was okay with that though. No doubt, he didn’t know much about psychology, however, it seemed only logical to allow people to talk about how they feel. Also, it appeared plausible people felt scared, confused, or worried. Hey, these were very surreal times. There was no reason to make others feel bad about having emotions.

Of course, there was some resentment towards certain members of University since all the teaching went online. Sometimes, Chris felt like most of his colleagues gave rats ass about regulations and procedures that were now put in place. Instead of trying to provide the best learning experience possible, they restricted themselves to slamming all the work materials online for students to figure everything out on their own.

Personally, he found online teaching unbearable and exhausting. He hated it; there were no words to describe how much he despised it. At first it was alright; it was tolerable and doable. In a way, it was nice. Being at home, able to wake up later than early morning hours. Being with his dog and going on long walks wherever he wished. Being able to take his time with cooking, exercising, reading. All of those mentioned were exceedingly pleasant.

However, Chris chose to be a teacher. He loved spreading his knowledge around. Since an early age he would teach his younger brother; he was much help when it came to revising, essay or exam tips. This was his passion, he loved it. This pandemic undeniably took this away from him. However, there was still room to provide students with knowledge this way, and he tried extremely hard to do so in most effective ways.

For example, he did not have to orchestrate his own online meetings to be this long. Half an hour, that was a long time slot. This was planned completely on purpose. Ultimately, his desire was to provide students with the time to talk to him, express their concerns, and ask questions. Maybe he took this job way too seriously, he thought, and it wasn't needed. However, there’s always this teacher everyone likes, and Chris wanted to be precisely that guy. It wasn't some stupid ego thing, not at all. He genuinely wanted people to feel like he is there for them and wants them to succeed. Every single individual had an ability to be successful, some just needed an extra push too keep them on track. Although his own schooling experiences where genuinely pleasant, he knew he would benefit more from University experience if he had a teacher like him. Not to lick his own ass, he thought, of course.

After years of working in the schooling system no errors have ever occurred. Until last year, when the last class prior to pandemic began their college journey. Back then and there a problem has arisen – you. It was no one else than little Miss Perfect, the girl who made him look twice when she entered the room. Oh, how tiring and fatiguing crushing on you really was. Chris was always collected and focused while working, but with you in his classes he found himself distracted. Often losing his train of thought, his mind shifted to dark places when your class sat in front of him. Chris was a perfectionist, so this was, in fact, greatly infuriating for him.

He did not feel this way since high school. Back in the day he was not the coolest kid you could walk past in the corridor. Thankfully, he has never had his head shoved in the toilet, but not being bullied did not necessarily mean there’s a successful high school experience behind an average American. In his own opinion, he was just a normal kid that had nothing to show for back then.

Precisely that, being average, was now the reason behind this familiar feeling. A pretty girl, a popular girl causing vivid emotions to flush down himself. Looking at her while she does the most ordinary things was the reason behind the uncomfortable state in his pants. His hormones went ill around her, reminding him of how tough being a teenage boy with no control over his erections was. It felt so familiar, craving her this badly, almost as if he’s done it before. Maybe, in a way, he compared you to someone he crushed on for the whole duration of high school. A beautiful skin complexion, addictive smile and those big, shiny eyes staring at his soul; those qualities of yours highly reminded him of her.

Chris remembered that girl very well. He recalled being fascinated by her presence, by her strong personality, and hypnotic prettiness. Her name did not pop up in his mind for years. Until he met you. Chris had Pearl, Pearl Bennett, tattooed on his brain back then. Needless to say, it was embarrassing how annoyingly beautiful she was. Just like you. Now, he didn’t even know if she was alive, he hasn’t seen her for years. It never really bugged him then, it didn’t bug him now. It was just a pleasant memory that he was able to recollect because of you.

He wasn’t sure about your feelings towards him. Mr. Novak, his colleague, often commented on the way some students would look at him. Chris regularly heard Novak claiming that Evans could get any of “that young pussy” if he only snapped his fingers. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea. Maybe, he was just humble. Or stupid, possibly very stupid.  

The house was practically unoccupied now; his wife was dropping groceries off at her mum’s house and Dodger was nowhere to be found, most likely sleeping someplace in the house. Chris did not mind. In fact, he was relieved to have no other human being here. Since pandemic began his marriage decreased in its quality drastically. For quite some time existing relationship brought more annoyance than joy. He was not sure if it went both ways but noticing how regularly his wife exited their house in recent times it was healthy to assume the feeling was mutual.

How did he feel about his failed marriage? Weirdly, he was awfully okay with it. There was not a single part of him that cared enough to fight for this marriage any longer. Right now, all his thoughts were concentrated around another female. How she managed to look delicious without trying. How she smiled or laughed. How her faced twisted with grumpy expressions once she didn’t understand a certain concept of a lecture. Chris could go on, and on, and on.

It was not possible he could describe you in any other word than perfect. It was quite pathetic, he thought, it shouldn't be like that. Yes, you are a pretty girl and yes, no man can probably say no to you. There was just something about you, something so extraordinary that it took his breath away. What was this fascination? He wasn't sure. However, what he was positive about was that he enjoys looking at you. He enjoys listening to you. He enjoys thinking about you. He enjoys all those things way too much; he was aware of that. He was not ready to stop thinking about you just yet.

Now, sitting in front of his Mac, his eyes were focused on the screen. He wasn’t too up to date when it came to the modern technology, but he also wasn’t clueless to how to work a computer. Setting everything up, he glanced over at the previously printed list of names with time slots besides them. The list was not in alphabetical order, students had their half an hour available for the next eight hours of his life.

It would be a lie to say he was not thinking about you. He was looking forward to seeing your face, even if it’s only on the computer display. Your surname and student ID were somewhere halfway through the list. Naturally, he searched for your name straight away after the programme generated the list.

The ticking of the clock hanged on the nearby wall sounded out so clearly. Almost like a racing heart whenever one feels more strain than usual. He could feel the nervousness growing within him as the time passed. He almost felt bad for the kid who had his scheduled meeting right before you. Chris kept on stuttering, disconnecting, and asking for questions to be repeated. Unfortunately, there was no strength in him to think about the failed one-to-one since his brain was too concentrated on you. His favourite, little student.

His thought process was disrupted as a green dot appeared next to your surname, suggesting your online availability. Licking his lips and fixing his hair, his fingers position themselves on the mouse. One click and the signal began. Beep one, beep two, beep three.

“Hi, Mr. Evans!” Her bubbly voice caused Chris to smile. She waved and in response so did he. She seemed happy, her face expression indicated nothing but joy, he enjoyed it greatly. “Hi! How are you? How’s everything?” He asked with an honest curiosity, still smiling at his student. It’s been months since the last time they spoke without anyone else around. Of course, this was the first instance of them conversating in those settings, but he did not mind. Any type of physical interaction seemed impossible now and anytime soon. This was the best he could receive for a significant period for now.

Their faces didn’t shut for the first couple of minutes. Talking about the past months, Chris was quickly reminded of how smart and funny this girl infatuating really is. They seemed to be getting on well right from the first meeting. Weirdly, she had similar likes and dislikes as well as sense of humour. It was like talking to a long-term friend whom you haven’t seen in the longest time. He noticed her hair change, spotting the long knotless braids; in his opinion she looked completely stunning in this hairstyle. He was quick to comment on it and as a reply he was given a complement on his newest buzzcut.

Sadly, but still, he ended the chit chat to focus on discussing work material. Chris tried to stay on topic and somehow it was going well. For the next couple of minutes, he chatted about work. His hand travelled to the left side of his desk to glance at a list of things he wanted to mention, however, he got cut off by the voice emanating from the screen.

“Are those meetings being recorded, Mr. Evans?” She raised her eyebrows with interest spread across her face. Her back bent forward, causing her face to enlarge on his screen. “I mean like,” She continued and coughed. “Is anyone going to watch this later? Does anyone have access to this after we finish talking?” Her question expanded or rather multiplied, sounding out in Chris’ air pads. There was no denying he was conflicted about why she was asking this question. This was not his first online meeting and not a single individual showed any concern in this matter.

“Well, no, not really. If any of us wanted to report our meeting for any reason then I guess, um, I guess it is possible to reopen the video chat,” Slow nod was all he could do at this very moment. No doubt, he still was not able to understand the nature of her question. “If any of us found the other person’s behaviour concerning, rude or inappropriate then the IT services could recover this video chat.” He added in a robotic tone almost as if he were reading from the script.

“Would you want this meeting to get inappropriate, Sir?”

He chocked a little as his eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself across the face in response to his pathetic reaction. Shouldn’t the age gap mean something? Why was he behaving like he’s on her leash? Why was he this…nervous? Excited?

Assuredly, she should be the one who is intimidated, meanwhile it’s her making the first move. He wasn’t sure whether this simply comes from his politeness and gentles; obviously, momma Evans raised him to be a respectful man. It’s apparent, the fear of scaring you was blocking all his possible moves. Risk of being reported for improper behaviour in the workplace was also a worry of his, but it came nowhere near the terrifying theory of frightening you.

But here you were. Being indecent with him. And oh, how he loved it. How he enjoyed this single sentence leaving your pretty lips. Your remarks were more enjoyable and exciting than everything he has completed with the woman he married in the past year, if not longer.

Was he being delirious? Did your comment indicated what he thought it did? Possibility of his mind playing games on him was high. It’s so easy to assume things happened when you wish for them to happen.

“Do you want to make it inappropriate? Do you want me to be inappropriate with you, Sir?” A deep breath left his mouth and a shiver travelling down his spine followed. He was now sure; he did not misunderstand. This was not his imagination playing him, tricking him into believing there’s something here that does not exist. All of this was very real.

“Whatever you wanna be on this call — I’m happy with,” He managed to speak out loud, fixing himself on the chair. This was a bad idea, he thought once again, a horrible idea that could quite literally ruin his career. Was he going to stop? Prevent this from happening? No fucking way.

“Huh, you sure about that, Mr. Evans? I can get really filthy when I want. I am a naughty girl,” Your words hit him like a truck, and he couldn’t help the blood rush in his trousers. He licked his lips slowly and pressed his back onto the chair. He could say something, but he chose not to. Whatever you planned on doing suited him and there was not an ounce of interest in preventing you from doing so.

No further words were spoken. There was a moment of short silence that felt like forever. A moment for someone to back up, break this madness off. No one expressed a need nor a want to stop. She played with her nipples through her shirt before they journeyed up. The straps of her pale pink top slowly moved down her arm, his eyes patiently followed. To him, you were mesmerising. At this moment you had his whole attention.

Looking straight at him, her hands removed the top and carelessly dropped it on the floor. His eyes glued onto her as the soft material left her body completely. He tensed as his length twitched, reacting to her breasts and hard nipples. Her skin was complemented by the colour of a previously worn top but seeing her without it sent shivers down his spine.

Chris could feel the discomfort in his pants becoming unbearable, needing to expose himself immediately. With shame, but still, he slowly undid his zipper. For a while now the feeling downstairs was insufferable, pleading and begging to be uncovered by his hand. Chris gulped back the lump in his throat as he completely freed his member. The view on the screen made his dick ache, his length twitched, jumping again his tense stomach.

“Liking this?” She teased, firmly grabbing her breasts. His eyes darken when he took in all her naked presence. The way she touched herself, he wanted that too. He wanted to feel her nipples between his fingers. He ached to be close to her.

“I wanna see all of you,” His words escaped his mouth, hand firmly grabbing his cock. Without shame nor hesitation his member was stroked, slowly and decisively, as his back leaned on the chair comfortably.

She was quick to listen. So submissive, he though, hand still firmly hugging his man part. He observed as she stood up, taking a few steps back. Still looking at Chris, her body turned around in a circle. Her moves were slow, very captivating, making Chris feel like every single movement was in slow motion. He already adored her body.

Her hands roamed around her own body before she slipped her hand inside her shorts and panties. Subtle movements of her hands indicated she’s pleasuring herself right in front of him. By her expressions, he was able to conclude that she’s enjoying herself. She didn’t play with herself for too long. Pulling the defiant material down as her eyes travelled to his, she exposed herself completely. He felt his mouth dry at a sigh of her bare body. She gave him a sultry look, realising the power she now held over him.

“Is this how you like me, Mr. Evans?” She broke of the silence, still exposing her hot flesh. It took Chris a couple of second to even register the question, his imagination run too wild to focus now. “Do I like you naked? It’s certainly a more thought-provoking image than how I usually view you,” He teased, slightly raising the corner of his lips in a smug smile.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I love imagining it’s your cock fucking me instead of my dildo,” She said completely unprovoked, making Chris widen his eyes. They did something naughty, something filthy, yet this comment really threw him off. “I’m gonna show you how I play with myself when I think of you,” She added and waisted no time before sitting on the bed. Chris had to admit, he spotted the bed straight away when the call started. Picturing himself laying there, you next to him, he took some time imagining the wicked scene you two could create on that mattress.

“I will show you how much, how much I love picturing us together,” Her seductive voice reached Chris’ ears, his interest growing with every single second. There was this unexplainable fear within him at this very moment, fearing she is going to stop. He was helpless now, he needed her to entertain him long enough for him to reach satisfaction.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid, her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I want you to watch,” His student said firmly, staring right at him. The sound of a dildo followed. Chris’ breath was caught in his throat straight from the anticipation of the next step she’s going to undertake. With hunger, Chris watched as she teased herself, rubbing her clit. The toy fondly slid inside of her, resulting in her lewd sounds and Chris’ silent moan.

Her nipples were hard, her unoccupied hand coming up to fondle them both whilst her bottom lip was taken hostage by her teeth. She was really enjoying herself; Chris could tell. The bed made a squeaky noise every time she moved. The call was so clear, thank God, he was able to enjoy every motion of hers. The moans, whimpers and groans escaping her pretty lips as she fucked herself with a toy. The quality of the video chat was good, but not great. He wanted to see her in full HD, he wanted to see the details. For now, though, viewing this was enough. This was damn good, so good. Those desperate hand movements, stuffing the length as deep as she could, it drove him insane. Oh, how he wanted to stretch her out like no one did before.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned, squeezing his hard cock. He was conversating with you through moans, examining you as the vibrations caused tingles in your lower department. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew her pussy was throbbing and pulsing, desperate for more length to enter. His body parts were no different; his balls felt heavy and his dick was hard as a rock, begging for a dream release.

The heat began to grow within his body with each and every movements of hers. She kept him going, moaning his name, calling him daddy, reminding him who she’s pulling this show for. If only she had any idea what it did to him. A shaky hand wrapped around his length made rapid movements, fighting for his orgasm to arrive. Watching her, listening to her, it was magical. This craze he had within him, this fixation she caused – it was obsessive. A loud scream, her thighs closing on the pink toy and her eyes shut while she orgasmed was enough, it was everything.

The feeling of euphoria intensely swept through him as a creamy load exploded in his hand. She could not see it, but he knew she felt it. All that left his mouth was a silent “fuck” as he collected his breathe. Chris was in pieces, still processing previous events. It was now clear to him how he pleaded for that orgasm to happen, how he needed it. He was embarrassed to admit how strong, how intense, the load bursting onto his hand really was. Lucky for him, no one knew anything about it but him and himself.  

„You liked this little show of mine, daddy?” Her voice awakened his senses, causing his mouth to water once again. She caught him looking at his crotch, now surely convinced what happened. She removed the toy from her body, a silent whimper followed. She threw it away on the bed like it was nothing, like it did not help them both cum just minutes ago.

“So much baby, so much. Can you show me s’more? One more time,” He breathed, looking at her with lust. She obeyed, without hesitation; her body rose from the bed and did a slow, full 360 to demonstrate her delectable features. Maybe, he was delusional, but he was sure her juices travelled down her leg. If he were right next to her, his tongue would have taken care of that.

“See you in a seminar, right, Mr. Evans?” Her sweet voice rang in his ears followed by his quick nodding. He had a chance to see her collecting the missing wardrobe that she then put on right before him. Chris could not help but notice her shaky legs. She sat down in the exact same position as before. She reached for a cup, drinking, and sipping the liquid through a straw. Now, she was back to her regular self, looking innocent once again. It slightly woke him up, brought half of him to reality.

“Yes, Miss. I will see you there. Be good, huh?” Chris said casually or at least he tried to do so. He was caught by surprise, convinced that he’s going to slur over his words more. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, forming as much of an eye contact as possible through the processor. Her current thoughts seemed impenetrable to him, although he always thought he’s amazing at reading facial cues.

“Me and you both know - I won’t.”

The last words of his current interest sounded from his Mac. Sending him a flirty wink before pressing the right button, she terminated the call. The intense orgasm left his hand still somewhat shaking. Eyes focused on the screen, he looked like he was awaiting another glimpse of her to come back.

Chris’ ecstatic state wasn’t quick to falter. It took another couple of minutes for him to do anything. Literally, anything. He was already late for the next meeting, which he felt absolutely no remorse for. His eyes lowered to look at the mess he produced; his mind displeased as he had realised, he needs to move to clean it.

Once again, it was just him and his usual surroundings. The call was over, just like that, almost as if it never happened. Despite his deepest longing, he could not go back to what just happened, he could not relive it. Your moans and whimpers performed in his head like a favourite song one would put on replay without a hesitation. He was craving more, his fingers curled into fists as he felt his cock hardening again. He was not sure what his next moves in this matter will be, but he was more than sure he needed to be inside this beautiful body.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter t w o 

When your alarm went off on Friday morning, you were sure that it had all been a dream. Your feet hit the floor and you looked out the frosted window. The snow was still there. Your coat was still in the living room where you’d left it, your tea cup still on the coffee table--an empty reminder of the night before. 

Your commute was longer than usual but not nearly as bad as the way home yesterday. The subway was in better condition and people seemed less miserable, likely because it was Friday, and the city always seemed to have a bit of a buzz at the end of the week. 

So now, as you stood in the office kitchen waiting for the Keurig to spit out your coffee, you recounted the events and sorted them into the good and bad categories that your brain so easily made. 

Good: he didn’t bring it up. He seemed excited enough to see you. He didn’t mention any other embarrassing events. He was nice to Alyssa. He paid for the Pad Thai. He didn’t overstay his welcome in your apartment. He said he’d see you again. 

Bad: there were plenty of awkward moments. He used your stupid nickname multiple times. He didn’t take the hint that you didn’t even want him in your apartment in the first place. He told you he’d read your stories (which likely meant he read your tweets and those were all sorts of a mess). You felt stupid most of the time you were with him. He said he’d see you again. 

You couldn’t really decide which category that last one fit in, so you saved it a spot in both. 

“Did you see that Harry Styles performed a super small concert at Spotify last night?” Your coworker, Carly, slithered up to your cubicle and smiled toothily at you. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, her casual Friday look still put yours to shame.

You were used to her excitement about anything Harry did, but this time it was harder to feign interest. You licked at your lips and willed away the heat that tried to rise to your cheeks. “I’ve always been more of a Liam girl myself,” you said nonchalantly, keeping your eyes on your computer as you pulled up The Scoop’s homepage. 

“Oh come on, the hair and the eyes and those tattoos,” she laughed a little, lowering her voice as if this wasn’t typical workplace dialogue. In fact, it was regular workplace dialogue. Carly was obsessed with One Direction (but mostly Harry) and she never kept that a secret. She was the one who wrote most of the articles about the band--her live tweeting of Harry’s album release were some of the The Scoop’s most popular moments.

And besides, your job revolves around talking about this type of shit. You had to be up to date on whatever celebrities were doing and you always needed to have something quick and witty to say about it. 

But you were also used to avoiding conversations about Harry in the workplace. Seeing as he’d released his album right after you started your job meant the first month was like tiny dodging bullets--an article here about his record sales, a list assignment there about the best lyrics. (You passed that one on to Carly though, claiming you hadn’t even listened and couldn’t possibly take joy away from her by writing about something she loved so much). 

Your coworker Max walked by, offering a smile to both of you as he headed for the kitchen. 

The Scoop’s office was modern and sleek, filled with standing desks and conference tables surrounded by balance ball chairs. You had common spaces with brick-red couches and vending machines for when you needed a change of scenery or a snack--all of the makings for a trendy workspace and happy employees.

The gym downstairs was open late into the night and early in the morning--though you’d managed to wander in there once and it was only by accident. You heard rumors that they had deodorant and toothbrushes for the staff to use, but that still didn’t do it for you. 

“How’d you fair in the snow? I saw your tweet last night,” she rested her arms on the wall of your desk, her chin falling to rest on top of them as she waited for your response. 

“Fine--the subway was shit but my roommate made a good dinner,” you said, dropping the details of your late night snack as you sipped at your coffee. “How ‘bout you?”

You turned to her now, offering her your full attention after checking to see yesterday’s story count. She rolled her eyes a bit. “Fine--I would have rather been at his concert, but whatever. You win some, you lose some.”

You smiled, Carly’s sense of humor was one of the main reasons you loved working here. She was friendly and funny and she was always in support of your desire to cover more real news. She’d been working there a whole year longer than you, and she regularly reminded you that eventually, you’d get to a place where you were covering the types of stories you had your eyes on. She also regularly reminded you that you were one of the most popular writers and regularly received the most digital fan-mail out of everyone on staff. 

You’d connected with her quickly after coming on board, and you were thankful for the fact that she was your go-to work buddy. Topic question? Carly could help. Needed to know whether or not it was cool to work in a conference room when you needed a change of scenery? Carly knew. 

She offered to grab lunch with you later on but soon left you alone at your desk, hunting through twitter to find some good topics for the day. Your phone buzzed beside you, signaling a message from Jessie. Your stomach knotted and you picked it up to unlock it. 

You’d messaged both her and Bryn this morning to inform them of the night’s events. While you might normally include Jake and Adam, you decided that the matter was best suited for the separate chat you had with your girlfriends: one that often had secrets and memes and emojis that weren’t necessarily appropriate to share with the boys. At least not these boys.

Y/N L/N (9:04am): Saw Harry last night….

Jessie Alby (9:26am): What?! How’d it go?? Was he in town?

Y/N L/N (9:26am): He texted me last night and asked if I wanted to go see him play somewhere. Brought my roommate. So weird. 

Y/N L/N (9:26am): And before you ask, no, he didn’t bring it up. 

Bryn Miller (9:27am): Hold on. Weird why? 

Y/N L/N (9:27am): Because we’re not really friends anymore! I haven’t seen him since that night and seriously even seeing him then was weird because he barely speaks to us now. 

Bryn Miller (9:28am): I mean, I’d probably have trouble keeping in touch if I were as busy as he is 🤷

Jessie Alby (9:32am): Still shitty of him. But it’s nice that he reached out!

Y/N L/N (9:34am): I didn’t even know he still had my number. I would have deleted it after that night if I were him 🙃 

Bryn Miller (9:35am): It wasn’t that bad, Y/N! If it makes you feel any better, you’re probably not the only person who’s done that to him.

Y/N L/N (9:36am): Not helpful!!!!!!

Jessie Alby (9:37am): So wait. Where did you leave it? Did he say he’d see us all soon?

Bryn Miller gave Jessie Alby’s message a thumbs up. 

Y/N L/N (9:40am): He said he would but he’s said that a thousand times. We’ll see!

Y/N L/N (9:40am): He did say that he’d love to see us all over Christmas 🎄

You set your phone down on your desk, staring at the photo of the three of you that was thumb-tacked to the side of your cubicle wall--a muted office-gray that reminded you of a stormy sky. It was pinned up beside a picture of all six of you: Jake, Bryn, Adam, you, Jessie, Harry at the end. You’d folded it over right between he and Jessie, fearful that coworkers would catch a glimpse and recognize the mop of curly hair. He looks familiar, they’d say. Is that Harry Styles? You know Harry Styles?! 

Before you started at The Scoop, you’d gone through your instagram and rid yourself entirely of any traces of him. Facebook was another matter--most photos of the two of you had been uploaded by others nearly ten years ago--but you’d untagged yourself and set your settings to as private as could be.

You looked back down at the screen of your phone. While the prospect of seeing Harry around the holidays seemed to excite both Bryn and Jessie, you couldn’t decide where you landed on the matter. 

Seeing him wouldn’t be miserable, you guessed, especially if it was with the rest of them. Two years ago there were too many people in Kenny Tilley’s basement, which is probably what led to you drinking more than you should have. A more contained setting with only the five other friends who’d seen your highs and lows felt more comfortable. Even if Harry was there.

So you put it on the back burner for now--not obsessing over whether or not you’d see him again and doing your best to quell the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when you thought about the fact that he’d thought of you and invited you and apparently didn’t hate your guts. It felt all too similar to being fifteen again. 

Later, you were sat at an afternoon meeting with Carly to your left as Whitney, your boss, detailed the new search engine optimization settings. Whitney was 35, single, and probably the coolest person you’d ever met. She oozed the type of confidence that you could only dream of, and being the Editor-In-Chief of The Scoop seemed like a sick gig. 

She wrote whatever she wanted, managed the other writers and editors, and still had time to go to hot yoga three times a week and run a wildly popular bagel-rating instagram account. She had dark brown hair and her lips were always the perfect shade of pink. She wore hoop earrings that were big enough to be bracelets. She was cool. 

On top of that, Whitney was caring and compassionate, never one to shame her employees on their mistakes or necessary areas of improvement. Talking with her about work made you excited and hopeful and made you feel like she believed in you. You knew she did.

Carly was busy doodling a flower on her notebook page when your phone buzzed. Harry’s name on your screen--even in it’s abbreviated form of Harry S--sent a jolt of panic down to the tips of your fingers as you reached for the phone and pulled it into your lap. 

She pulled her eyes up from the blue ink on her paper, a sideways glance before you mouthed sorry, and turned your attention back to Whitney’s speech on tagging. The aluminum shell of your phone felt like it was burning in your lap, especially when it buzzed for a second time. 

You flipped it over slyly, careful to not let Carly see your screen. 

Harry S (2:43pm): Tell your coworker Carly I liked her story this morning on my show last night 

Harry S (2:43pm) 🙂 

You shut it quickly, worried that if she saw her own name she’d only be more intrigued about the message. You turned it over in your lap again, eyes wide as you waited for a lull in the conversation to quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

Your heart was pounding faster than it should, tiny thumps that matched your footsteps on the geometric carpet as you wove through other cubicles to find a private place. 

The truth of the matter was this: you’d been telling yourself one version of this story for the last two years. You embarrassed yourself in front of him, made a complete fool of yourself, really. So the narrative in your head was along the lines of this: he’d never want to speak to you again because you ruined a perfectly good friendship. 

The thought that he didn’t feel that way left beads of nervous sweat on your forehead as you found safety in an empty emergency exit stairwell. 

A door shut a few flights up. Voices echoed off of the concrete before another door opened, closed. You looked at the message again as your thumbs hovered over your phone’s keyboard.

With minimal thought, you created a string of syllables that maybe wasn’t exactly the nicest response you could have come up with. 

Y/N L/N (2:46pm): Definitely not telling her that. She doesn’t know I know you. 

You watched as the blue line danced it’s way across the top of the screen, the word beneath your message immediately turning to read. You waited for the three dots to appear, but instead, you were met with a vibrating phone and an obnoxious picture on your screen of Harry, age 16, standing in your mum’s kitchen with an apron on, fresh off a shift at the bakery.

“I’m at work,” you whispered into the phone after sliding your thumb along the bottom of the screen. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry--I just--you’re keeping me a secret?” You could hear the suggestive tone in his voice, causing you to roll your eyes as you ran a hand through your hair. He spoke again, a chuckle escaping his lips. “That’s hot.”

“Okay, ew, gross. Glad to see you’ve grown up over the last few years,” you spoke sarcastically, causing him to laugh harder now on the other end of the line. 

“Why don’t you want to tell people you know me? You’re that ashamed?”

You weren’t ashamed. You’d been proud and excited at first--your friend was successful and talented and was taking the world by storm. So what happened, people would ask. Why don’t you talk to him now? 

You didn’t have time to get into it with him. “Harry, I’m at work.” 

“Right--are you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, a meeting.”

“You’re in the middle of a meeting right now on the phone with me?”

You could hear the smirk on his lips. “Well, no.”

“So you don’t have five seconds for your longtime friend?”

Your eyes went wide at his label. Friend? Longtime? Neither felt necessarily true in the current moment, but you decided not to push it. 

You looked around the empty stairwell, left without a good excuse. “I mean--I can talk for a second, I guess.”

“What are you up to tonight? I had radio stuff this morning but I’m done now. Probably gonna nap for a bit to be honest,” he thought aloud. You were so content just listening to him talk that you didn’t respond. “D’ya want to do something? S’Friday.”

You made a face at him through the phone when he reminded you what day it was. You knew what day it was. You were a working adult. You had a calendar on your email server and a physical one on your desk. Another pause as you mulled over his proposal. 

“Y/N?” 

“Sorry, um, yeah--I guess so,” you said, knowing deep down that you wanted more than anything to hang out with him. You wanted it to feel normal and goofy and just plain fun--the way it felt before. 

The next question crawled up your throat and out of your mouth before you could really process it. “Can it be low key, though? Like--without paparazzi?”

He laughed to himself, you imagined that he had that shit-eating grin on, wherever he was. The backseat of a Chevy Suburban like last night, a dressing room, a hot tub filled with models. You didn’t know where he was and you decided you weren’t going to ask. “Yeah, Smalls. Got it. No paparazzi. So--midnight then?”

“Midnight?” You asked incredulously, your head pulling back from the phone in confusion.

“It’s New York City. There was no one out to see us last night because of the weather and the time. Pair that with the big coats and we were undercover, pretty much.”

“So we can only hang out at midnight now?” Some sort of sinking feeling in your stomach, you tried to swallow it away.

“If you really don’t want to be seen with me--which apparently is incredibly important to you,” he teased, a blush rising to your cheeks when he kept speaking. “This will have to be our secret.” 

Your heart did a flip. It was just you, Harry’s voice on the phone, and your adrenaline alone in the stairwell. “Okay.”

“Alright,” his voice was quieter now, almost as if he sensed the shift in the air, too. “Get back to work, then.” 

“Okay.”

“I’ll text you, and--yeah, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright.”

“Bye, Smalls.”

“Bye, H.”

**

Alyssa fell asleep on the couch at 11:29pm just as the third consecutive Friends episode started. You got up quietly, pulled on a sweatshirt, then your coat on top of that. You slipped out the door and down to the foyer of your building where you waited on the front step. 

The snow had melted a bit from the night before, but the air was still cold enough to prompt you to pull your hood up over your ears. It was quiet in the Village for a Friday night, a couple passed by on their home from some type of evening out. Eventually, a taller figure with the same flat hat from the night before strode up to your steps. 

His head was down to block the cold, but when he lifted his eyes and met yours, you raised your brows in greeting. This prompted Harry to chuckle. 

He lifted his arms to motion to the emptiness around him, looking up at you from the sidewalk, gray cement beneath his black boots. “As promised--no paparazzi.”

You fought the smile that tried to creep onto your lips. “A rare sight, m’sure.”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as you climbed down the three steps to meet him at ground level. “Night time is usually the best for exploring, anyway.”

“Exploring?” you pulled a face. “You said yourself last night that you have an apartment. Haven’t you done enough exploring?”

“I can always do more.”

“Where’s your apartment from here, anyway?”

He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Seven blocks up and one blocks west towards the river.”

Seven blocks up and one block west towards the river. That was practically your backyard. Instead of addressing the fact that he lived so close (and yet still didn’t bother to reach out), you started walking in that direction, he fell into step beside you. 

“How was work?”

“Fine, how was the radio stuff?” You used the term he’d applied earlier, looking up at him as you passed the wash and fold on the corner.

“I asked first,” he looked at you with knitted brows, playfully offended that you’d turned the question around. You seemed to have a habit of doing that. 

“It was fine. Had a meeting in the afternoon that you interrupted me from. Wrote seven different stories today. Most of them were lists. I hate lists.”

“You hate lists?”

You looked both ways before crossing the street. A few cars passed by and Harry seemed to shrink into his jacket--you didn’t know if it was to avoid the cold or avoid being recognized. 

“Hate them,” you nodded. “It’s all I write. Dumb lists about dream vacations or things I’d rather be doing at any given moment. People love them, though.”

He laughed a little bit, eyeing you sideways as you made contact with the sidewalk on the other side. “If people love them then why do you hate them?” 

“Because I want to write real news!” 

“I think you are writing real news,” he said quietly, clearly deep in thought about your statement. You passed by Walker Park and he looked down at you. “That list you did--10 things we know about Ariana Grande’s new music video--that’s real news. Everything she does is news.”

You let out a small laugh, appreciative of his reassurance. He’d always been kind and thoughtful, but his words crawled into your heart as you waited for the walk-sign to flash white above your head. 

“I guess I just want to cover more than just that.” 

He nodded, his lips pushing out told you he was still pondering your words. You felt uncomfortable, so as you entered into the crosswalk, you changed the subject to his day.

He told you about the radio hosts he’d sat with, the questions they asked. His eyes wrinkled at the sides when he talked about the nice things his fans said on twitter. Three more blocks, then a big glass door with a doorman out front. Harry stopped short. 

“This is my building.”

“It’s--” you searched for the word like it was hidden in sand at the beach, your formal education in wordsmithing suddenly out the window when confronted with the smooth lines and modern accents. “Nice.”

“We don’t have to go in,” he shrugged, looking down at you. 

You spoke at the same time as he did, again. 

“We can go in.”

“We can keep walking,” a change of direction for him when he heard your words. “Yeah, no, I can give you a tour.”

You wondered about his walk on the way over. Did he listen to music in headphones like most millennials heading for a friend’s place? Did he count the yellow taxis that passed by, slipping into the night as their shifts came to an end?

He greeted the doorman by name and unbuttoned his coat as you waited for the lift. He told you he bought the apartment in April, claiming he stayed in hotels or at a friend’s place when he was in town before that. 

He swiped a card and pressed a button, and when the elevator opened, you were face to face with the back of a brown leather couch and two rustic end tables. Round-top windows across the room showed the night sky, white-oak floors sat beneath an oriental rug. 

“Wow,” you stepped forward, assuming, since he seemed pretty comfortable, that the lift had actually deposited you straight into his apartment. 

“Yeah, well, can’t take credit for the decorating. My mom and Gemma helped--and Erica, too, actually.”

He took off his coat and set it on the couch, leaning against it as you stood in the center of the room. The lift closed behind you, a hum of a mechanical sound let you know it was slinking down it’s shaft. 

Before long you were settled on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand, Harry in a chair to your left with his ankle resting on his knee. He dressed in black from head to toe--his shirt, his pants, his shoes. 

“So the rats are the worst part,” he laughed, his fingers running through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling. “Makes sense.”

“I didn’t really buy it at first--you hear people say they’re terrible but until you see one pulling a piece of pizza up a staircase in the subway station, you just don’t understand.”

“May or may not take over the city, kind of thing.” 

You let out a belly laugh, throwing your head back as he smiled over at you, swirling his wine in his glass. “Exactly. But I guess the best part is just,” you exhaled a big breath, wondering how to sum up your love for dirty, tough, soul sucking New York City. “My friends here, and Alyssa, and my job.”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes scanning over you for a second. When he spoke, his voice was quiet--curious--and almost like he didn’t want to know the answer. “Do you ever miss home?”

“Holmes Chapel?” You said it as if you weren’t quite sure where home was. You thought of the fields, the small downtown and the roads that led you out of that universe. “Not really.”

He nodded, tugging at his lower lip. 

“I mean, I miss the people, of course. My parents, my sister. My house. Not the town, really.”

He hummed a noise of understanding, a sip from his wine as he stared at the eggshell white ceiling. “I do.”

He didn’t bring his eyes back down to you. Instead he avoided your gaze, giving you permission to study his features as if you hadn’t studied them your whole life. As if even now, when you saw him on a magazine cover, you didn’t pause for a second to evaluate the eyes looking back at you or the one piece of his hair that always seemed to fall onto his forehead. 

When he let his eyes trail back to you, your lips curled upwards. “We left on different terms, I guess.”

His eyebrows rose and fell, a look of amusement crossing his face. 

“While you were signing record deals I was finishing a-levels.”

It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind. There were other moments like this when the differences between your life and Harry’s felt incredibly staggering. Like when you found out he was dating Taylor Swift. Or when you learned he’d met Paul McCartney. 

There were always small reminders that the two of you existed in separate worlds, even if those worlds hadn’t collided in a long time. 

“I meant what I said last night, y’know.” He watched you closely, his eyes an emerald green in the dark lighting of his posh living room. “About being a shit friend.”

You didn’t know what to say. He was a shit friend at times. But so were you. At least, you had been that night. You remembered the time he helped you roll your bicycle back to your house after you got a flat tire at Jessie’s. Year 7. 

You remembered the time he warned you that Peter Moore was going to ask you to the school dance and pretended to be your date so you didn’t have to go with him. 

But then you also remembered when he missed Adams birthday party because he got drunk the night before with Ed Sheeran and couldn’t bother to call. You also remembered when he didn’t text Jake after his grandma died because he was in Tokyo. 

You understood that fame happened. You didn’t ever expect him to pass up his chance--especially seeing as you’d always known how talented he was. But sitting here, with your feet on his couch and a snow-covered New York outside, you just wished he’d kept in touch. 

“I get it,” was all you said. 

He kept his eyes trained on you, and you wondered what it would be like if he’d never left. Maybe he would have moved to London like the rest of you did. Or maybe his fate had long been determined. All you knew, as you watched him tilt his wine glass back to finish the last sip, was that you wished life was like a snowglobe. One that you could shake, and drop, and flip upside down to watch the snow and glitter dance, the scene inside completely still, never to change. 

** 

You felt uncomfortable in the Chevy Suburban by yourself that night, the heat on high because you made small talk with the driver about how cold the night air was. A text from Harry saying he enjoyed your night together was the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in bed. 

You reasoned with yourself at the kitchen table the next morning over a bowl of oatmeal. Maybe being his friend wasn’t terrible--you’d done it before and maybe it would be just like that. Maybe you could keep your teenage feelings in check. 

You’d barely gotten a bite of breakfast down before your phone buzzed beside you, a FaceTime call from Jessie coming through. 

“Good morning,” you laughed after swiping your thumb across the screen to answer the call. 

Jessie--her auburn hair up in a bun and the freckles on her cheeks more present than ever--had her face smushed up against Bryn’s. 

“Hi Brynie,” you waved your spoon at them, knowing full well what they were calling about. 

After a second glass of wine, Harry had decided to send a snapchat of the two of you--your cheeks smushed together just like your friends’ were, now--to the rest of the group. 

“Good morning my arse--you’re lucky we waited until a decent hour to call you and demand some fucking answers, woman,” Jessie’s accent was thick, her energy palpable through the phone as Bryn let out a laugh. 

“What she means is, how was your night?”

You rolled your eyes. “It was fine--I don’t know why he suddenly wants to hang out with me.”

“And he seriously still hasn’t brought it up?” Jessie’s eyebrows pointed together like an arrow. 

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p,’ adjusting in your seat as you took another bite of your breakfast. Mushy oatmeal wasn’t necessarily your first choice, but you hadn’t been shopping since the beginning of the week. You and Alyssa had planned on heading to the grocer down the block, but that was only if she ever woke up. 

“I mean, I also have avoided the conversation like the plague, to be fair. M’not about to just say, ‘hey, remember that night when I was really drunk and acted like a fucking idiot?’”

“I don’t think he thinks it was that bad,” Bryn tried to reassure you. 

“Right!” You let out a quick laugh, careful to not be too loud in your quiet apartment. The morning was still somewhat untouched. Unopened mail on the coffee table, the candle Alyssa had bought a few weeks ago still uncapped beside it. 

The blanket your roommate had fallen asleep with the night before was still balled up on the couch. You wondered what time she made the semi-unconscious trek from this room to her bed. You didn’t know because you were busy drinking wine with Harry and pretending that all of this wasn’t weird. 

“Listen,” you told them. “I don’t know why he wants to hang out with me or where his head is at about that night, but--I don’t know--I’m just trying to be normal.”

Jessie raised her eyebrows, a small smile coming across her face. You could read her mind. After being friends with her for more than half of your life, you knew exactly what she was thinking when she opened her mouth, looked at you, looked away, and then closed it.

“Just say it, Jessie,” you rolled your eyes, another spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, waiting for her lecture to ensue.

“I dunno, Y/N, I just think that you and Harry--” she looked over to Bryn, who immediately continued on for her. 

“You might always have a schoolgirl crush on him, and we just, we don’t want you to get hurt again.”

You licked at your lips, your eyes falling to the wood of your kitchen table. Knots of dark maple stared back at you, providing no insight or guidance on how to respond to the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I know,” you said quietly. 

You hadn’t meant to get hurt the first time. It wasn’t your fault that the week you finally had the guts to tell him how you felt was the same week he left for bootcamp. You thought he’d be home in a few weeks--those shows didn’t really make people famous, right? Certainly not your friend with an obnoxiously loud laugh and a penchant for using embarrassing nicknames. 

So maybe you sulked around for a while after he left, especially when it became clear he wasn’t coming back. 

The first call was to tell you he’d been rejected, but, wait for it, there was good news. A group was formed. You and Adam joked about how long it would take for one of Harry’s new bandmates to punch him when they realized how annoying he could be. 

A call a few weeks in had him excitedly telling you that he was going to Spain. Then he was moving into the house, then they made it further and further each week. The calls slowed down and soon the majority of your interaction with him happened through a telly screen. 

You’d sit around in Bryn’s living room, smacking Jake on the head with a pillow whenever he talked too loud, arguing that you all needed to pay close attention, voting as much as your mobiles would allow. While Jessie and Bryn were totally in the know about your growing crush for one of your best mates, Jake and Adam remained relatively in the dark. 

He was home that first Christmas, telling exciting stories of the celebrities he’d met and the places he’d been, casually letting it slip that he’d lost his virginity and was likely moving to London--the band was going to try to go even further. 

You’d kind of given up at that point, recognizing that your lives were two threads being pulled in opposite directions. While you’d once been part of the same cloth, you were building your own tapestries now. 

So you let it go. Bryn and Jessie offered their love and support and everyone kept going with their own academic endeavors. You’d see him at holidays or maybe once in the summer when the band came through town, laughing in empty venue hallways and being ushered to the best seats in the house. You’d have a glass of wine or a pint when you knew you’d be seeing him, quelling the nervous knot in your stomach that often lodged in your throat. 

“He still calls me Smalls,” you said, pulling your eyes up to see them again as a smirk tugged at your lips. “Such a stupid nickname.”

“S’not stupid,” Bryn objected, her face twisting into one of irritation. “S’cute--and Adam and Jake still call you that sometimes too.”

“S’different coming from Harry,” Jessie answered for you, a silence passed and you let your spoon clank against your bowl as you set it down. 

“He knows he’s been a shit friend, by the way. Both nights he’s admitted it to me, so, I think he feels guilty, I guess.”

“I mean, I get it, y’know. I get that he’s been way too busy and running in a thousand directions.” Bryn shrugged her shoulders and let a sigh escape between her lips. 

“But it’d be nice if he could at least see us when he’s home, respond in the group, text us on our birthdays,” you finished for her, knowing by heart the places in your life where he was missing. 

**

You’d done your grocery shopping, cleaned the bathroom, and you were now seated on the couch in a pair of sweatpants. Slivers of nail polish fell down like the snowflakes from two days before as your thumb scratched wildly against your pointer finger. 

Alyssa was seated on the floor in front of you, rifling through a bin of DVDs--artifacts of her teen years. “Mean Girls, Sleepover--that one’s a throwback,” her messy bun pulled wisps of her loose brown hair away from her face. 

A knock on the door had her leaping to her feet, a look on curiosity crossing her face as she danced on bare feet towards the door. She pressed her eye to the peephole, her face a ghostly white as she turned around and pushed her back to the door, barricading it shut. “Harry Styles is at our door.”

“What? Why?” You stood from the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you closed the distance between the two of you. 

“Oh, he called and said he was going to stop by for tea,” she whispered at you, sarcasm dripping from her words as she stepped aside so you could take a look for yourself. “If celebrities are going to start showing up at our door we need warnings, Y/N!”

“I didn’t know he was coming--he didn’t say anything!” You pulled the door open before she could respond, revealing Harry, hands in his pockets, leaning back on his heels. An awkward smile on his face as he spoke.

“I’ll try and give a better warning, next time,” he made eye contact with Alyssa, playfully letting you both know that he heard every word you’d said. 

But that was nothing compared to the level of embarrassment you were used to when it came to Harry and things that came out of your mouth. So, you looked him up and down, noticing that he was dressed more formally than the night before. Same black pants, but this time a black button down shirt, undone just enough at the top to show flecks of black ink on his chest. 

You reached forward and tugged at the fabric, pulling him into the apartment and closing the door behind him swiftly. “Did you walk in the front door? Did anyone see you?”

He smoothed out his shirt with a frown when you let go of him, Alyssa staring wide eyed at the two of you when he responded. “Someone was walking out and held the door, didn’t even look up, though, s’New York, for you.”

You padded over to the window on the opposite side of the room, looking down at the street below. The last thing you needed was a photo linking you and Harry together. Young journalist uses childhood friend for career success, they’d say. 

“No paparazzi,” Harry answered for you as he hung his coat on the back of your front door. 

He was right--there was no sign of lenses or flashing lights on the curb below, just white cigarette butts and hardened sidewalk gum. You turned to face him, still completely uncertain why he was standing in your living room at 5:30pm on a Saturday.

You didn’t have to say that, though, because he soon offered an answer. “I uh--I was gonna go to a concert tonight, was just wondering if you wanted to come. You, too, Alyssa,” he turned to your roommate, who’s eyes were wide despite the smile on her face. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to make Alyssa snap back into her regularly functioning self. Harry brought his eyes to you. “Sara Bareilles--do you know her?”

“Do we know her!” Alyssa laughed, her excitement only growing as you made your way to the couch. “I cried so hard to Love Song in the shower when I was twelve.”

Harry chuckled at this, letting his eyes settle on you. Alyssa did the same--clearly hoping that you’d acquiesce.  

You stuttered over your words, uncomfortable with the power they were both affording you. “What--I don’t--we’re just supposed to tag along to her concert? Do you have three tickets?”

“She invited me,” he shrugged. “Said I could bring friends.”

“Bring friends?” You repeated his words, letting that sink in. Right, okay. This is how it was to be a celebrity. Free things, show up places and get VIP treatment. “How do you know her?”

“Her manager is friends with Erica. Saw her at a party about a week ago.”

“Y/N, we have to go. It’s Sara Bareilles. She’s like, on Broadway and is amazing.” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go. If anything, a Sara Bareilles concert with Alyssa was something you would have jumped at a few days prior. Adding Harry to the mix--and using him as the ticket in--felt weird.

“You really think it’d be okay with we come?” Alyssa turned to Harry, shoving her hands into the front pocket of her maroon sweatshirt. 

He nodded, his eyes flickering back to you. “S’fine, if you’re busy.”

“We’re not busy,” you said, letting a sigh brush past your lips. “I just feel bad, I don’t want to use you for tickets.”

“I’m inviting you,” he laughed, walking to sit beside you on the couch. “And I’ll make you a deal, Smalls. You can totally buy me a drink when we’re there.”

You rolled your eyes, simultaneously bothered and enchanted by the way he winked at you. 

**

You’d been to Irving Plaza before. You’d seen two shows: one with Alyssa and one on a bad Tinder date. The bar that they had inside was decent (thank god, especially for that date) and the bathroom stalls were covered in drunken sharpie doodles. It was right next to Union Square, making it accessible and easy to find. 

Tonight, however, instead of shuffling through subway gates and dark tunnels, you’d been dropped off by the same man in the same black Chevy Suburban and you learned his name was Roger. 

Erica met the three of you in the back--an alleyway entrance that seemed much less glamorous than you’d imagined fame to be. She gave you a hug this time, seemingly excited to have two civilians along for the night. You wondered what her life was like: did she have to schedule Harry’s dates with models and influencers? Did she have to memorize their phone numbers or worse, their astrological signs or favorite colors? She must have had tons of awkward encounters with beautiful and boring girls--ones who were latching on to Harry for the money or the fame, or, apparently, the free invites to concerts. 

Harry’s manager, Jeff, made an appearance backstage when you and Alyssa were busy photographing the signed posters of previous acts that hung on the white cement wall. Snapchatting them to Bryn and Jessie seemed like an obnoxious, yet totally acceptable thing to do. You couldn’t explain why Harry was suddenly interested in being friends again, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it. 

The most exciting moment pre-concert was when Alyssa subtly grabbed your hand, nearly cutting off circulation as Sara greeted both Erica and Harry with a kiss on the cheek. She introduced herself to Jeff and then to you and Alyssa before offering to take a picture, one that Harry insisted on being in. She left the group behind to finish preparing for her show, thanking you all for coming and promising to play Harry’s favorite song. 

And you learned something else: famous people wait for the lights go down in a venue before heading to their post. They slink in between bodies and find a secluded corner to spend their night, sending others to the bar so they don’t have to risk being seen. 

Which was fine, you owed Harry a drink anyway. So you got five Moscow Mules and headed back to the group before doling them out. One for Harry, one for Alyssa, one for Erica, one for Jeff, and one for you. 

You measured the night in songs, wondering how many you’d sing along to before having to part ways with the boy with a big smile and an even bigger heart. Alyssa, with her drink up to her lips, wiggled her eyebrows at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. 

You figured she probably did. 

So when Harry slinked an arm around your shoulder, drunkenly swaying to the music, you let yourself relax. He wouldn’t--no, couldn’t--do this if he really hated you, right? December 29th was a night that you both likely wished to forget, but if he really felt like you’d ruined your friendship, he certainly wouldn’t invite you to a concert, get drunk on Moscow Mules, and then whisper into your hair that he was glad you were here. 

Which is what you told yourself the entire ride home, hoping to counteract the anxiety that the liquor brought on. Alyssa giggled in the backseat and swiped through photos of the show on her phone, showing them to Harry, beaming like a proud parent. She slipped into her bedroom after you all rode up in the elevator, insisting that she was exhausted and sleep-deprived, but you knew it wasn’t that. She hoped that more alcohol and late night chatting would lend itself to a different night entirely, one that you knew wasn’t possible between two people like you and Harry. 

So when her bedroom door shut and the both of you were left standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, you offered the only solution you could think of: wine.

“Does it turn on?” you heard him call from the living room as you sifted through the drawers in the kitchen. Spatula, no, can opener, no. Your hand landed on the wine opener, pulling it out of the heap of other kitchen utensils before rounding the corner back towards the couch. 

“Hmm?” the bottle clinked against the glasses in your arm as you tried to deliver them all safely to the surface of the coffee table. 

“The Christmas tree,” he said, but you didn’t see him. 

He’d left his spot on the couch--trading it for a place beside the tree--kneeling and reaching for the wire in the back as he tried to shove it into the socket. 

“Oh, yeah, just--”

He succeeded before you could give him any pointers, the room illuminated in different shades of greens, reds, yellows, and blues. He turned his head to look at you before getting up, a smug twitch of his lips as you let out a laugh. 

“I’m quite handy, y’know,” he said casually, pushing himself off of the floor before sinking into the couch. “Leaky faucet? I’m your man.”

You rolled your eyes as you cut open the foil around the cork, his eyes on your fingers as you inserted the screw, fighting a smile. “I’ve got a super, but thanks.”

“A super?”

“Superintendent. S’a person who lives in the building and does all of the handy work. New York thing, maybe.”

“Your loss,” he reached for the wine glasses and held them up, letting you tip the bottle into them. 

You cheersed and took a sip, the quiet of the room settling around you as he lifted an ankle to rest on his knee. “I talked to Adam the other day.”

You didn’t mean to make a face like it surprised you, but it happened before you could stop it. 

“You act like he wouldn’t answer my calls or something,” he laughed, clearly amused by your intrigue.

“No, it’s not--” a sigh as you searched for the right phrasing. “I just know he misses you. Jake, too.”

“Yeah--well, was good to talk to him. I told him we’d been hanging out. He said he already knew.” He smiled at you playfully, using his words to accuse you of talking behind his back.

You bit your lip and gave a dismissive blink of your eyes. “S’not my fault I keep in touch,” the  words fell out of your mouth, landing in the air between you, maybe too harsh. 

He was quiet for a second, nodding slowly. “I’ll text them all tomorrow. We’ll set something up for the holidays. When are you back, again?”

“The 20th.”

“Eleven days,” he thought aloud. “We should fly together.”

“Together?”

“Yeah--I know you already booked, maybe you can get credit or something to change flights or seats.” He rested his head on the back of the couch, his eyes closing for a moment.

“When are you going?”

“‘Round then as well. I can have Erica look into it tomorrow,” he said. 

You let it go, too tired to push or pull or do anything besides listen to him tell you about his time off. He’d been busy with tour and promo and all the things that apparently came along with his lifestyle. He was excited for some down time. Family meals, hometown pubs, and you believed him when he said you’d be a part of it. 

While there had previously been a don’t ask, don’t tell attitude about him being back home, it felt different. He promised to see your parents and to head to Red Lion with the gang, a smile through sleepy eyes after a half hour of planning.

“You should go,” you laughed at him, reaching forward to take the empty wine glass from his hand.

He pushed his lips out, his eyes glued on a framed picture of you and your sister. “Don’t wanna.”

“Don’t wanna?” Your lips quirked upwards, unaware that he had a say in the matter.

He turned to look at you. “M’having fun, Smalls.”

It dawned on you then that he was tired and slightly intoxicated. Maybe not the worst you’d ever seen him, but definitely a little buzzed.

“Well, bedtime. And you can’t stay here.”

Another frown, his eyes flashing to yours quickly. You tried not to overthink it. 

“Come on,” you said, standing from the couch to fetch his coat from the hook on the door. He made a face at that--one that looked bothered and disappointed all at once. He pulled himself off of the cushions, as if every movement was painful and exhausting. 

“Dunno if I’ll make it,” his accent was thick, you didn’t know if it was the wine or the lack of sleep, likely both. He took a few steps towards you and reached for his jacket, taking it from your arms and shrugging it on. 

You watched him for a second, the dim light of the Christmas tree kept the room glowing and warm. The stubble on his chin looked more pronounced than yesterday, his eyes a deeper green in the night. 

“You’ll make it,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

He looked down at you, blinked twice, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?”

He didn’t need to. He didn’t need to call you or text you or even promise to see you again if he didn’t want to. But you didn’t say that. You swallowed the anxiety that lodged in your throat, the voice that gnawed and chanted two years too late as he stepped around you.

“Okay,” you said. 

He pulled the door open, offering another smile before pulling it shut. You heard his footsteps head for the stairs, only four flights down to the sidewalk out front. 

There was no car, no Roger. He didn’t call ahead. You wondered if he liked walking the snowy streets, and you wondered if he’d also trace the night in reverse, each step until now. You wondered what he’d say if you brought it up. 

You wondered, but you decided you could live with the not knowing as you climbed into cool sheets and clamped your eyelids shut.

read the other parts here

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[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                                         Hodr, the God of Winter,                      whose origins stem from Ancient Scandinavia.                                     He is now the owner of Nysnö.

FC NAME/GROUP: Kim Jaejoong | JYJ/Soloist GOD NAME: Hodr PANTHEON:  Norse OCCUPATION: Tailor, Owner of Nysnö HEIGHT: 1m80 DEFINING FEATURES:

- Porcelain complexion, very easy to get tanned or sunburnt

- Big, watery, and expressive eyes with natural eyebags  

- Tattoos:

+ Two quotes on the left chest: Deferto Neminem (Accuse no man), Always keep the faith

+ A pyramid with an eye and a set of horns, with three dots above on the left wrist

PERSONALITY: Just like what the last season of a year would offer to the world, Hodr’s got that quiet yet immense power to free, to freeze, and to frighten.

More often than not, he is the literally coolest individual found in any place he’s been to, and his too-cool-for-you resting face with porcelain complexion won’t help. But no, he’s not just a walking ice statue, and yes, he knows how to socialize and even tell jokes – the ones that would help listeners not to try so hard for a pity laugh. He looks aloof and is aloof most of the time, until the situation calls for what he can contribute. Although he may not be the fastest to offer a hand, Hodr would only offer what he’s best at. And actually, after thousands of years of trial and error, the winter god is confident to say that he’s a well-qualified player in quite many different fields in life. And does that make him cocky, sassy, savage at times? Yes dear, all checked.

On the more serious note, this icy god would be often seen alone, being absorbed in a book, something on the screen, or just in his own thoughts. It doesn’t mean he’s unaware of his surroundings at those times; in fact, the reverse is true. Hodr has a keen eye for detail, which would make him the perfect go-to person if you want your new hair cut, new glasses, or even a tiny pimple near your hairline, to get some attention. The god likes to give honest compliments, moral support, physical support, basically what it takes to help others feel more confident in themselves. In some senses, he could be seen as an amateur life coach. And a great drink buddy. He himself isn’t really confident in his flirting skills, but if you’re looking for at-least-acceptable courtship, relationship, or situationship advice, Hodr can manage to give you some.  

However, Hodr would take his sweet time to warm up to others, not because he needs to consider if they would worth his time, but the exact another way around. Despite his well-put-together demeanor, insecurity and fear of abandonment are some of the challenges he’s still striving to conquer. Also, Hodr’s developed this odd determination to make as few mistakes as possible, hence his over-meticulousness and indecision, also explains why he might take months to finish a suit. Yet, if one gives him enough patience and understanding, guarantee that they would get the best-customized suit on earth, and probably a (some sort of) friend in this Norse god of winter.  

HISTORY:

  Before Ragnarok

What was the fun of being the forgotten son of Odin? Nothing much - or should it be phrased almost nothing at all – except for the plethora of aloneness, which equaled to ultimate freedom in Hodr’s book.

The God of Winter was born with eyes that could only see the depth of his own soul and not one of the universe’. At first, it was a curse, then a blessing in disguise, for it gave him the privilege to stay away from the frenzied dance of life and death, of battles and romances, of wisdom and stupidity, those that most other Norse deities had always relished. Hodr preferred, almost thrived on, his blissful solitude. He loved it when he could turn not only one, but both blind eyes, to the surrounding chaos. And it was like a seed planted on barren land, the desire to be at the center of attention and adoration like his dear brother Baldur was. From the first day of existence, Hodr had already understood this. His brother was born to be loved, and he was born to be left alone.

In the serendipity sang by the winter breezes, Hodr had heard his final. Or finals, to be exact. That yes, he was born to with a cursed blessing like no others, that he could make use of it to keep trouble at least a winter away, but that wasn’t meant to last forever. Nothing supposed to last forever, especially when – no matter how different they were – all the Norse deities have been waiting for the Ragnarok since the beginning of their fate.

“I, too, shall die,” he informed one night at the gales caressing his porcelain cheeks. The gales, reminded of the anticipated farewell, hurled in despair. Hodr smiled, the warmest a god of winter could muster. “Behave yourself while I’m away, won’t you?” The winter gales laughed out their response.

And they kept wuthering. Their mighty roars got deafening the day Loki showed up with a mistletoe spear; the sound so deafening Hodr could not really hear what they were trying to say, but the spear had already been thrown away, aiming at a target even his wildest imagination could not let him to see.

When he knew was when it was too late to know. Baldur’s death came much faster than his belated realization. He abhorred Loki, with just one tenth the hatred he had dedicated to himself. Loki’s natural couldn’t outshine his exceptional gullibility; his wrongdoing couldn’t be anything else but a proof of foolishness.  

The forgotten outcast was now the greatest sinner. Hodr melted into an epitome of guilt and agony.

The mighty Odin went berserk, of course he would. Hodr could tell what was coming – a decision, a revenge, exactly what he was expecting to. It was another blessing that he did not have to wait for long. One day after Baldur’s death, Vali was born. Just as great as their father, he had completed his sole duty of showing Hodr the way back to nothingness with utter ease. There was no sign of protest from Hodr.

But no one could rest in peace.

Winter did not keep its promise to its God. The freezing gales kept hurling their inconsolable anger. Ice and snow waged war against all gods and men, buried three summers under their thick white blood, and no living left undamaged.

That was how Fimbulwinter started, and how the world began to end.

After Ragnarok

Hodr couldn’t tell how long it had passed between his death and his resurrection. Probably a Ragnarok apart, or that was what he had heard from the survivors. How could he return to life? Why him and not some other much more deserved warriors? No one, including winter, could give him a convincing answer.

What he’d known was that Baldur had also come back to life – the best news Hodr heard since his existence. No blames, no cries, only understanding, and family bond were shared again between the two Odin’ sons, which, until now, still surprised Hodr somehow.

Asgard and the other eight worlds were quick to recover, teeming with life. The winter gales had stopped wuthering. Yet, there were still so many questions left, to which if he did not find the answers, no one - even his greatest of a father - could.

Is this all the reasons why I have been here on earth?

Is there anything else I should know? Learn? Master?

Is there any other place I should go? Anyone else I should meet?

Is there really something called ‘true love’? What is love though, anyway?

Hodr spent the next millennia on self-discovery and re-discovery. On learning and un-learning. On growing up, getting wiser, bolder. On figuring out that actually, his hands were actually much more skillful than they were thought to be. On being a god, then being a god in a human vessel. On falling in, then out of love.

It turned out that true love was real. Hodr felt lucky that unlike humans, whose single-use lives might be too short to find one or too long it was hard to tell it apart of the false ones, he was really deep in it a couple of times. All of the romances he got the chance to co-create, some faded into memories, some into scars, some into a holy mess. But Hodr had learned that just like everything else on this universe, true love wouldn’t last forever. At this point of his seemingly endless quest of knowledge and self-improvement, Hodr was pretty sure that he had raised an army of those who loved him, and an equal-size one of those who hated his guts.

Winter wasn’t meant to be adored by everyone, was it?

But now, let’s get back to a couple months ago, when Hodr was chilling with a long-term fellow god at a corner of a bustling bar. Both were in their newest human vessels, drinking cold beer and talking about what on earth they should try next for this human lifetime. At some points in their unplanned plans discussion, his friend raised a random question.    

“Have you tried out Mount Phoenix?”

“What is a mount phoenix?”

“No, it’s the Mount Phoenix. A magical island of gods and their half-human kids. Some of your kids are there as well, I think. Go figure it out!”

So, in the next morning, Hodr woke up sober, packed his bags and himself, and cruised to the Mount Phoenix to figure it out, first and foremost for the thrill of new adventures. Soon, the universe once again showed him that there were still so many things in its pockets that he hadn’t even heard about just yet. Hodr was intrigued, so he chose to stick around the island probably a little longer to seriously figure things out.

He’s also been mastering the art of making suits, by the way.

POWERS:

Winter Manipulation: Able to induce the intensity of winter and that of other elements in its realm, including cold, death, and solitude to some extent.

Water Manipulation: Able to create, shape, manipulate water in solid, liquid, and gas states, also change water from one state to others. Able to create ice objects, including weaponry.

Cold Manipulation: Able to create, shape, and manipulate cold, making everything (including living things) colder with direct or close-ranged contact, ranging from mild coolness to freezing point.

Cold Immunity: Be immune and completely invulnerable to both cold’s direct and indirect effects.  

Cold Empowerment: Will be quickly energized or become physically stronger, faster, more durable once in contact with cold.

STRENGTHS:

Hodr is an epitome of the phrase ‘aging like a fine wine.’

He’s very much open-minded, quick-witted, and is a diligent learner. Learn best by trial and error.

If one can withstand the cold, they would get a compassionate, reliable, and loyal companion in him.

He’s pretty much dexterous, and likes to make things with his hands and not his power.

He’s got good taste in fashion. Surprise, surprise!

WEAKNESSES:

He’s cursed with bad eyesight, no matter how good the condition of his vessel’s eyes is. Can’t live without medical glasses or contact lenses.

High heat is Hodr’s nemesis. He’ll rarely enjoy hot food or drinks, and will become noticeably lethargic during summers.

He’s quite slow to open up to new faces, may let his doubts misguide his mind, and can be frustratingly indecisive at times.

He’s still somewhat gullible to those he loves or considers to be trusted friends.

[jeongahn]

✨ HEHE HELLO MY SUN! 95hua is my gfx and 17joshua is my gif portfolio blogs - Bea 💓

(Don’t) Creator’s send me a  ✨ + your creations tag and I’ll talk about some of your pieces I love! Bea’s creations (gfx) and her gifs and her blog @joshuahong (I still want to tag joshsua, it’s been literal YEARS)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - How do I make this short. Bea. I truly love your work so much, that when I tried to go through your archive from 2015 and onward - all my brain did was “oh that’s a fave. no wait that’s a fave. that one too. OH but THIS ONE-”. I’m not exaggerating. Every single piece. So to keep this condensed, I’m only going to talk about the pieces that gave me the visceral “!!!” because I remember how floored I was at the piece. Just know that EVERY piece you’ve done gives me that reaction. So this ask? This ask is now my own personal hell because I don’t know how to choose 3-5 pieces that I love more than the other. But I will try. This is more of a “walk down memory lane,” - in which I recall how much the piece amazed me at the time it was posted. This might seem long but let me tell you - this is as condensed as I could possibly make it. Like I am pulling my own teeth trying to mention just a FEW of these pieces that I really love. I need a drink. GOD this is obnoxiously long I don’t know what to do.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

2015

(1) (2) (3)These graphics are so heavily ingrained in my mind that I’m now realizing how much this inspired some of my graphics I did years later. Like??? It set the tone for what I value in a piece of work LOL. And when I look back at my own work now - I can see how much of these “lessons” I incorporated.

For (1) in particular, I adored the bleeding effect on the surrounding gifs! And how each panel bled into one another through those wisps.

 In (2) the COLORS just had me squirming like a delighted little sausage. It fit Seventeen’s image at the time so well. It was youthful, colorful, fresh. Everything that Akkinda was at that time. I LOVED the sparkles and the fucking TREE. Ugh that was truly one of the best graphics I saw at the time. 

In (3) - the way you oriented the text was amazing. It was a lot of text but the way you spaced it out and added these visual breaks made it so easy to digest. Like one panel is text heavy. Then another panel is image heavy with a bit of text.Then there’s a gif panel with more text but also spaced out with more image. The balance is fucking incredible Bea. And literally - that’s how my own mind is programmed to make gfx now so it’s nuts seeing that it might have been influenced by your own methods I viewed over the years. LORD, I should call you professor?

2016

Very few things I never heal from. This manipulation of Jeonghan and Joshua from the Chocolate MV? Is one of them. The Chocolate MV in general? Is another. But okay I recall how I gasped because of how GOOD this was. It’s still hitting me. Your brain is so sexy Bea. Also, I’m bummed we never got Mint Jeonghan. But like, who cares? Bea edited a mint Jeonghan and that’s all I’ll ever need. I would literally frame this LOL. Like I’m half considering slapping it onto my corkboard just so I can look at it often.

I would literally pick every single piece from 2016 but I think JiHan was my most favorite and I can’t tell if that’s the bias in me that’s making these decisions. 

2017

This is the coolest shit I’ve ever seen lmfao. I wish I had something more flourished to say but I remember thinking how fucking genius you were for highlighting the teaser like this. Since it was so scenic. And rather than making a hardcore gfx out of it - you just enhanced the vibe with text, coloring, and a bit of texture. You also did this same concept with Jeonghan and it just...oof it was so perfect. 

And then later on, when all the teasers were released - THIS stunning piece of work was done. I was SO impressed by the way you did the gifs with that cross effect. It’s not easy showing 13 pieces of anything. But you did THAT. And ALSO used the images of the teasers, you’re a MAD MAN BEA. A GENIUS. I’m still so shocked by how well done is this.

And you know what this talented fuck did WITH THE ACTUAL MV? You’re not going to fucking believe this. You’re really not. Why am I suddenly so angry. Just look at THIS and you’ll understand full well, why I am SCREAMING. I’ve NEVER seen anything done like this at the time it was posted. Like Bea REALLY set the fucking tone with this gfx. To this day I can’t think of a single gfx that captures an MV THIS WELL. UGH it’s BRILLIANT. If I HAD to pick a favorite - like you threatened to burn my pumpkin patch - I would choose this one. But because I’m not being threatened I’m now making this LONG ASS POST on WHY I LOVE BEA’S WORK SO MUCH-

I recently watched InuYasha in all of it’s entirity because I thought of this gfx a while back lmfao. Jeonghan as Sesshomaru and Joshua as a half demon? Satiates something inside of me. Anyways. The tones used here always get me. The soft beiges and purples at so NICE. I think I mentioned it reminded of buying lavenders out of burlap bags in romantic market places LOL. But the vibe still fits. The movie poster vibe is something you didn’t do often back then so it was cool seeing you try out a different style! The way top right and bottom left are correlated is something that flew right over my head back then. But now? I’m eating this shit up. It’s delicious. 

Shout out to the “Story of the Moon” series Bea did with Meanie, in which she insp credited herself. Is that not, the biggest flex? I love all your star crossed lovers concepts. Bea loves to: yearn. OH btw, here’s the actual Story of the Moon. It’s so sweet. Probably not the original but SO pretty either way. I think this might be the original. Re: Bea loves to learn.

I swear I’m done with 2017 but I gotta mention part 2 of Demon!JiHan. I never realized how much I loved this series of gfx. Bea. This is GOOD shit.

2018

This is GREAT. One thing I loved about YMMD concept was how the gradient reflected on the concept of day to night. So I adored how Bea did this! It was a clever way to utilize 13 images since the aspect of day and night happen in 12hr cycles. 

Just know anything Bea does of JiHan is most likely going to be some GREAT work because of the way a storyline is involved in it. I remember you talking to me about this concept so seeing it come into fruition was pretty fucking cool. Again. Bea loves to yearn. The colors reminded me of the 2015 piece I adored so much.

She did it again with the flawless approach on Demon!Jihan. It’s like year by year it becomes more and more sexy. I LOVE this. The editing on this is more “today Bea”. It’s got such a nice use of shadow and saturation. I remember those images were so hard for me to edit because of the shadow so I didn’t edit them LOL. But nothing stop’s Bea’s expertise. The red tones really get me. I love how this series went from soft burlap bag of lavender to reddish hues. It feels aggressive and I LOVE that.

This is probably the best birthday graphic that ever exists. Again Bea was so clever with how she displayed a lot of images from Joshua’s ENTIRE career. Along with text. Not just eras. Not just songs. But Joshua as a person as well. Whenever I see this I feel so fond. You can smell the love radiating off of this gfx. Joshua would be SO honored.

2019

This is so pretty. Like it reminds me of salwar kameez lmfao. I remember this fondly. It’s like they’re what is inside of a string light. Not light bulbs. It’s Seventeen’s Vocal Unit.

Shout out to this graphic that is reposted literally everywhere. Bea you unlocked every Carat’s deep want: Tatted!Seventeen. Your talent with manipulations is unreal. The tattoo series and Cyber/ Humanoid series really showcase that. Another shoutout to how Bea inspired that one set of teasers with the pressed flower freckles. I want this in a resin dish. Who on Etsy will do this for me-

(1) (2). The dichotomy of these 2 graphics still get me. In (1) there’s this warm and luxurious vibe. Then in (2) it’s the same luxurious vibe, but creepier than the previous because of the icy feel. It’s so neat. Both are SO beautifully done. I love the shimmer tears on Joshua in (1) and the icy sparkles on Vernon in (2). 

2020

I REALLY love this set. The BUTTERFLIES are you KIDDING ME??? I love them. I’m so glad you incorporated them. I love how you subject edit. The way you create glow on the face is so nice. It literally reminds me of using “How Many Carats?!?!!” on the face. Which is SO fitting lmfao. On this work it’s a bit more... “soft glow” but I had to mention it. Joshua with the monarch butterflies makes my heart warm. I dunno if Monarchs are California’s butterflies. But so many places in my town are dedicated to Monarch butterflies so when I think of California, I think of Monarch butterlfies. Anyways I adore the FLUSH on these images. It’s so INNOCENT

I love the entire Cyber series but the way you did everyone’s bionic arm? INCREDIBLE. I can’t even begin to understand HOW you did this Bea. It almost makes me angry that you do this shit for FREE. I get to look at this for free? It feels illegal. I was so floored I missed several details. Like how you made the lighting work with this neon light vibe. That takes a GOOD artistic eye and you clearly have that. Jihoon’s current of energy on his face? U G H it’s so GO OD. I want to stare at it forever. WAIT the BACKGROUND as well. Listen the more I stare this. The more details I realize I miss because I’m so caught up in one detail. It’s just such an incredible series that you execute so flawlessly. 

I just really love this. I can’t describe why. It’s just so nice to look at. That panel with Joshua’s glitter tears (p2)? I love it. All of it is so satisfying to look at and I got that entire vibe from the MV in general. So this was an appropriate way to display it!

I have yet to see all of your 2020 gfx so instead I’m gonna rb them and gush lol but really Bea. All your work is so good and if I could write a book on how much I appreciate them - (clearly) I would.

[dancingwithasstranger]

I meant 1 through 85 😎

Well you already know 1 and 85 so

2. Are relationships ever worth it?

Of course, being in a good relationship will always be worth it.

3. Are you a virgin?

Yeah, unfortunately.

4. Are you in a relationship?

Yessss

5. Are you in love?

Absolutely

6. Are you single this year?

Nah

7. Can you commit to one person?

Already am

8. Describe your crush

My girlfriend is my crush so; curly brown hair, brown eyes, little taller than me (just a little jum), beautiful smile, smart, funny, the coolest girl there is and idk she's just very fucking amazing.

9. Describe your perfect mate

My girlfriend.

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Nope, I think that's just feeling attracted to someone, it takes a lot more than just looking at each other for 5 seconds to be in love idk.

11. Do you ever want to get married?

Yeah I can't wait to marry my girl.

12. Do you forgive betrayal?

Depends on why this person betrayed me of course.

13. Do you get jealous easily?

Kind of, I just keep it inside until I forget about it because I know I'm just being stupid.

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?

Besides my girlfriend, not really.

15. Do you have any piercing?

Yeah and I'd like to get some more.

16. Do you have any tattoos?

Nope but I'll definitely get some.

17. Do you like kissing in public?

I would if I had someone to kiss :(

20. Do you shower everyday?

Yes

21. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

I know someone does.

22. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

I know someone is.

23. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

I think I can last an entire life in a relationship and not cheat, if not then why am I even in a relationship?

24. Do you think you'll be married in 5 years?

I really hope so.

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?

I am in one.

26. Has anyone told you they don't want to ever lose you?

Yeah, and that made me really happy.

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

I think so, it was kind of a poem I guess.

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

Nope.

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?

Nope.

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?

I've considered changing my nose but now I know I don't want to.

31. Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?

Yeah, lots of times.

32. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

At first I thought it was unrequited and was obviously heart broken but then last year I found out she loved me too but was just too scared of people knowing about us so bitch.

33. Have you ever had sex with a man?

Ugh, no.

34. Have you ever had sex with a woman?

No :(

35. Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Yeah.

36. Have you ever liked one of your best friends?

Yeah, that didn't end well.

37. Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?

Yeah and they were absolutely right about her.

38. Have you ever liked someone you didn't expect to?

Yes

39. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn't have?

Yeah that hurt a lot.

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?

I tried a few times but that didn't work.

41. Have you had sex so far this year?

Nope

42. How long can you kiss until your hands start to wonder?

I honestly have no idea like maybe ten minutes(?

43. How long was your longest relationship?

Six months, seven at the end of this month.

44. How many boyfriends/ girlfriends have you had?

2

45. How many people did you kiss in 2011?

I can barely remember what I did yesterday, Idk probably 0 because I was 9

46. How many times did you have sex last year?

0

47. How old are you?

17

48. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

I'd probably be too busy crying my eyes out to think about something to say.

49. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend what is your favorite thing about him/her?

Everything about her is my favorite thing tbh.

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

Ugh, nope.

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

Yes c:

52. Is there anyone you've given up on? Why?

I haven't, is more like someone gave up on me.

53. Is there someone mad because you're dating/talking to the person you are?

Not really but I know my parents would if they knew about her.

54. Is there someone you will never forget?

Yeah there are some friends I'll never forget.

55. Share a relationship story

I cut my hair like two weeks ago on video call with my girlfriend, I didn't even know how to do it so I'd ask her every 5 minutes "does it look straight?" And Idk I really loved it.

56. State 8 facts about your body

- I'm fat

- I'm small

- I have hairy arms

- Short hair

- fat legs

- small eyes

- nice eyebrows

- brown eyes

57. Things you want to say to an ex

I'm sorry because I messed up too.

58. What are five ways to win your heart

You can't because my heart already belongs to someone else.

59. What do you look like? (Post a picture)

60. What's the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?

A year and a half.

61. What is the first thing you notice in someone?

Well their face, obviously.

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

Dance for me, kiss my neck, just touch me for no reason.

63. What is your definition of having sex?

Maybe just this intimate moment with the other person, being naked, touching, giving each other pleasure, Idk it really depends on what you think having sex is it's different for everyone.

64. What is your definition of cheating?

When you betray someone's trust in any way.

65. What is your favorite foreplay routine?

Telling the pizza she's pretty before I eat her.

66. What is your favorite roleplay?

I don't think I have one.

67. What is your idea of a perfect date?

Just connecting with the other person, doesn't matter where or when it you connect that'll be for sure a perfect date.

68. What is your sexual orientation?

I'm very attracted to being a disappointment.

69. What turns you off?

People who think they're better than everybody else and criticize everything.

70. What turns you on?

Just being treated well.

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?

I've just had regular wet dreams nothing weird.

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?

73. What's something sweet you'd like someone to do for you?

Just come an visit without telling me and spend the day with me.

74. What's the most superficial characteristic you look for?

Nice hands(?

75. What's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you?

I lost a very important conversation on WhatsApp and she offered me to send me screenshots of it and they would be at least 2 thousand.

76. What's the sweetest thing you've ever done for someone?

A letter

77. What's your opinion on age differences in relationships?

I think I'm no one to judge but there are some limits.

78. What's your dirtiest secret?

I'm actually an alien

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

I can't remember.

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

Like 10 minutes ago

81. Who are 5 people you find attractive?

- My girlfriend

- My girlfriend

- My girlfriend

- My girlfriend

- My girlfriend

82. Who is the last person you hugged?

My sister.

83. Who was your first kiss with?

One of my neighbors.

84. Why did your last relationship fail?

We lived in a small town so we were scared of being judge and that didn't allow her to completely express how she felt about me and I just got tired I guess.

I'm very sorry about the boring answers.

[ewankoseyo]

serious || highschool!jackson au

A/N: Just a lil something I whipped up on a bus ride. Hella longer than I expected but here you go! Part 2 of magnetic coming very soon!

——

jackson is the male lead in those cheesy teen romcoms who’s the most handsome and most popular guy in school and is actually nice to everyone

he messes around in class too much and can be really chatty but because he’s so nice and polite, teachers can’t really get mad at him so they just kind of shush him in between lessons

they have him come in during lunch to help them clean lab supplies as a lesson

which he does without complaining BECAUSE HE’S JUST SO DANG NICE

actually makes conversation with them and basically knows about the personal lives of all the teachers

he’s a golden retriever in human form

basketball team? team captain

fencing team? FOUNDED IT

drama club? auditions for all the spring plays because that’s his sports-free season

chess club? he marched to the principal’s office with the school nerds when the club was threatened by school budget cuts and argued with the principal to keep it open

(“oh you know what mr. wang? you’re right! I think the school CAN spare some funds for the chess club!”)

did I mention he volunteers his time at the local children’s hospital reading to kids on the weekends when he doesn’t have games or matches?

seriously, how does this kid have so much time for all of these activities

he should have “perfect to take home to your parents” tattooed to his forehead

but you stubbornly try to resist his charms because you think he plays too much

he sits behind you in math class and always compliments the back of your head

“did you curl your hair today? it looks really pretty!”

“thanks jackson…”

offers to walk with you to class and carry your textbooks

“your hands look full, let me help you out!”

“it’s okay jackson…”

(he completely ignores this and takes your books to class anyway)

(he’s running to class so you have no time to protest)

it’s not that you hated jackson wang

based off of his personality, it would be a crime to hate him

but falling for jackson wang was pointless

jackson charmed anyone and flirted with everyone

he received love confessions by the week but politely rejected each and every one of them

no one has ever heard of him being in a relationship which came as a shocker to the whole student body

him? THE jackson wang??? sinGLE??????? HOW???????????

at one point, a rumor flew around that he was gay

why else would he reject the prettiest girls in school?

but you knew better

jackson wang was a free spirit

with all his time spent being so involved in everyone else’s lives, there was no time left to focus on the feelings in his

jackson was seriously the nicest and coolest and cutest guy on the planet

but he just wasn’t serious

so you tried to brush him off when you felt he was playing too much

because you didn’t have time for games

besides, why would a perfect angel of a man-child like jackson wang ever return your serious feelings?

(if you had serious feelings for him, that is)

you literally burned yourself with the curling iron this morning trying to use it as a microphone

how could jackson ever fall for you?

so yeah

falling for jackson wang was FUTILE

anyways,

one day jackson tried to pass you a note during class but you just shot him dirty glances before turning back to the board

“jackson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“ah sorry, I’ll just ask after class! hehe”

but your teacher had other plans after class

the two of you were asked to stay back (but rest assured, you both weren’t in trouble)

so it turns out there was a downside to jackson’s super-involvement in extracurriculars

his grades had been slipping in math ever since fencing season started

(“I’m sorry sir, we’ve been having tournaments back to back!”)

if he wanted to keep competing, he was going to have to get his grades up

with the help of a tutor

someone who…idk…has the highest grade in class but needed some extra credit to bump it up two grade points to a 100 ???????

what could you say? the universities you were applying to were really competitive

so you begrudgingly agreed to tutor jackson wang until he got his grades up

he would follow you home after school and you’d work with him for an hour

he insisted on going to your house since the days were getting shorter and he didn’t want you to have to walk home alone in the dark all because you had to help him

damn him and his kind heart

through these after school tutor sessions, he got to know your family

as expected, they LOVED HIM

whenever your parents would come home from work, he would stop what ever problem he was doing to talk to them

“hello aunty and uncle, how was work?”

“did you confront your co-worker who was giving you a hard time today?”

“I hear you might be getting a promotion soon. good luck!”

when your younger siblings were around, he’d take a “study break” to play with them

you would have to snap jackson back into focus

“c’mon jackson, you still need to finish this problem set.”

“sorry, we’re almost done solving this puzzle!”

your tutoring sessions would end with the two of you just talking 

mostly just jackson asking you questions about yourself and you answering

“what do you like doing on the weekends?”

“idk watch movies? listen to music? I’m pretty boring”

“what kind of movies do you like watching? we should have a movie night one day!”

as much as you were trying to avoid falling for jackson wang, you weren’t about to kick him out of your house

you weren’t rude

and it’s not like you had anything else to do

(you had gotten all your homework done while he was getting friendly with your family)

plus you weren’t this used to having someone be interested in you

inquisitive about you, that is, ahem

even though this was probably just a friendly thing jackson wang does with everyone, you appreciated someone wanting to get to know you just because

so you let him hang around and ask you more questions

soon, the questions were getting to be a bit much to and you were getting annoyed

“jackson you keep asking me questions about me, can you start telling me about yourself?”

jackson was the guy everyone thought they knew through his actions but what people knew about the real him was all just heresay

maybe it was because you were trying to avoid getting too close to him or maybe part of the jackson wang charm was putting the other person in the center of his conversations with them, but after all of his questions, you realized you knew next to nothing about his personal life even though you’d been tutoring him for two weeks

jackson laughed at your sudden outburst

“me? what do you want to know about me?”

it then occurred to you that he also wasn’t used to people asking about him either 

(what a kind, selfless person, ugh I hate him)

“anything! what’s your family like? why are you so involved in school? what are you doing after graduation?”

you learned that he grew up in a family of athletes so he’d been in sports for as long as he could he remember

his older brother would pull pranks on him growing up, like telling him their parents found him in the dumpster as a baby and took him home to raise him

but now he really looks up to his older brother and always asks him for advice even though he may be busy

you learned that as a child, he would have a difficult time paying attention and keeping still, so his mom put him in a bunch of activities to keep him occupied

and this probably carried on to high school

but besides how it was affecting his grades, he loved and gave his all in every activity he was involved in 

his dad taught him to be kind to others and to give tenfold to those who had nothing to give back to you

which is why he spent his extra time volunteering 

plus he enjoyed getting to know the stories of the people he was helping, there was always something to learn in each of them

as for after graduation?

you learned he wasn’t completely sure yet

he didn’t want to say too much because there were just a lot of options up in the air, something about possibly moving to korea because of an opportunity there, but he couldn’t say it out loud so as to not jinx it

so yeah, you learned a lot about him in a span of two hours (and this is just after tutoring, my goodness)

what else did you learn?

you learned you had made a mistake in asking him about his personal life because oh god now this was getting all too real and you found your heart aching at the way he would look down and smile, seeming uncharacteristically shy when talking about something he didn’t tell a lot of people or when his cheeks met his eyes when recalling a funny childhood memory or when his hands moved animatedly while describing a fencing move or the way his laugh was the most boyish most genuine laugh you’d ever heard and you’d want to spend the rest of your life listening to it—

it was happening

no, it happened

you had fallen for THE jackson wang’s charms and he wasn’t even trying

this realization must have translated to worry on your face because jackson stopped himself in the middle of a story about how he got into the chess club to ask you if you were okay

“wha-yeah, I’m fine why wouldn’t I be?”

jackson grabbed your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumbs against them soothingly

“you must be worried about college apps”

“what?”

“you mentioned before that some of your deadlines were coming up and you were stressing out about them and I noticed sometimes in math you’re not paying attention to the lesson so you can work on them”

if you weren’t so flustered from him holding your hands, you would have burst out laughing from his conclusion 

“right, college apps”

and as if you couldn’t be any more flustered, you soon found your face grow even hotter when jackson reached out with one of his hands to tuck the stray hairs framing your face behind your ears soothingly

his other hand still held yours and he gave it another squeeze before giving you a sweet, reassuring smile

“you are one of the smartest, most hardworking girls I know. you study until the wee hours of the morning not just to get a good grade, but to get the best grade because you won’t settle for anything less. you’re someone who knows what she wants and won’t let obstacles get in her way. you support your classmates when they need help with an assignment or want your input on something and you never put them down or make them feel any less than when they don’t get something right. and hey, you’re helping me get my grades up! if anyone deserves to get into the college of their dreams, it’s you!”

boy had the AUDACITY to boop your nose with his index finger with that last point

and you were frozen

how were you supposed to respond to getting jackson wang’d by jackson wang?

that is until—

“can you stop that?”

jackson, who had been busy stroking your hair as he spoke, was now the one who was frozen

“what do you mean?”

you shifted farther from him on the couch you two shared. you really hadn’t meant for things to end up like this when you started tutoring him.

“I mean, could you stop being so nice to me?”

you must have looked so crazy to him (who doesn’t like it when people are nice to them???) but you kept going

“you keep asking questions about me and you compliment me every day and you notice things about me--heck you’re the only one who notices whenever I curl my hair—”

“how could I not notice you?”

you were sure that with the way your mouth was moving but not forming words, you were giving your best fish impression

“li-like this! you’re just being so nice to me a-and you just need to stop doing that...before I get the wrong idea...”

and the way jackson looked at you after you said this completely melted your heart because he just looked soooo genuinely hurt and concerned for you, with his eyebrows furrowed with worry and his lips pursed as if trying to find the right words to say next

“and what do you mean by...‘wrong idea?’”

and you just stared at him, silently begging him to not let you continue what you were about to say, but he was silently encouraging you to continue

“that you might like me back...then I feel stupid because why would you...why would someone like you--I’m sorry I can’t do this--”

you feel your voice getting caught in your throat and you’re about to make a run for it to your bedroom upstairs when you feel a hand tugging you back to the couch and all of a sudden you’re colliding into jackson’s chest

(it was a good thing your family was out running errands!)

“now can you stop doing that”

you barely register what jackson is saying as you feel the vibrations of his chest as he speaks, his arms holding you in place between his legs so you couldn’t get away again

you’re sitting between jackson wang’s freaking legs!

he takes hold of your arms and repositions you so that you’re forced to look at him

“yeah I’m gonna need you to stop doing that thing everyone else does where they talk about me like I’m all high and mighty, because no one tries to get to know me and it makes me feel isolated from everyone else”

“I’m sorry jackson I didn’t know—”

“and stop talking about yourself like that. I like you because you’re you. you’re smart. you’re polite. whenever I talked to you in school, you never flat out told me to go away even if it seemed like you didn’t want to talk. based on your amazing family, I sense that you’re amazing. you’re working so hard in helping me to raise my math grade. and I really appreciate you trying to get to know me. the real me.”

“wait...so you really like me?”

if you didn’t look so cute in his arms, jackson would have rolled his eyes so hard and smacked you

“of course I do! why else do you think I compliment you every time you curl your hair? or why would I offer to carry your books to class even though I know you’re highly capable?”

“I don’t know...I guess all those times I thought you were just playing around and—”

“how’s this for playing around?”

you didn’t have time to ask what he meant then as you felt his hands gently cup your face and he closed the distance between your lips within seconds

if he wasn’t holding you steady, you swear you would have melted on that couch

the kiss was slow and warm, his lips passionately working against yours, as if silently reassuring you he meant every word he’d said

every little peck telling you how much he cared

and when you finally pulled away from the lack of oxygen, you were sure there was no other place where you were meant to be in that moment

jackson placed his thumb under your chin and moved your head so you were looking at him

“it’s always been you.”

so you two continue on like that for the next couple of weeks

studying, making out, more studying, reward cuddles for studying

and before you know it, jackson’s grades are way above what your teacher needed in order for him to keep competing

but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to study with you

because although he had a tendency to get seriously distracted

he was always serious about you

——

[absolutelaw-blog]

PROFILE ; KRISTOPH GAVIN.

GENERAL.

full name.  kristoph gavin.  pronunciation.  kris-toff gah-vin.  nicknames.  the coolest defense in the west. the coolest killer in the west. kris. (   caution on this one  :  if you call him this and your name isn’t klavier gavin, he’ll go above & beyond to make you miserable. he’ll tolerate it from his brother, but no one else   ) . height. 6′1″-6′2″.  age.  32 years old (   in canon  ;  age is verse dependent.   ) . zodiac. capricorn. languages. german (   mother tongue   )  ;  english (   learned pretty much concurrently with german, and so he’s about equally fluent   )  ;  japanese (   passable. living in aa-universe california necessitates knowing at least a little   ) .

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  platinum blonde.  eye colour.  grey-blue. skin tone.  pale, freckles easily.  body type.  lean. he’s tall & broad-shouldered enough to be intimidating if he’s trying, but outside of that, he’s not very physically imposing. he is, apparently, strong enough to kill a man with a wine bottle in one hit, though, so i guess he has to have something of a swing.  accent.  pleasantly transatlantic, tinging on somewhat british. it’s how he learned english, and while he could have easily adopted an american accent after living in california for such a long time, he insists on ‘ speaking properly. ’ (   he’s pretentious.   ) he usually does not speak with a noticeable german accent -- but when stressed, upset, angry, frustrated, flustered, or otherwise not as in-control of his emotions as he usually is, the accent will slip out. he despises this. dominant hand.  right hand. posture.  confident, almost regal. shoulders back, hands clasped behind his back or arms crossed in front of him, chin up, looking down his glasses at you. there may be no crown on his head, but that won’t stop him from holding himself like he’s a king.  scars.  one, along the back of his right hand. can, in the right light, take on the appearance of a rather horrid face when he twitches his hand. despite its peculiar qualities, he doesn’t think about it much anymore. he got it as a child  ;  it’s been there so long it’s no longer notable to him.  tattoos.  none. he thinks they’re rather distasteful.  most noticeable features.  height, long hair, self-assured posture, eyes hidden behind glasses, that scar. 

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  berlin, germany.  hometown.   los angeles, california.  birth weight / height.  – manner of birth.  . . . the usual one ? first words.  his parents used to joke that his first word was ‘ cross-examination. ’ this, of course, was only after he got into themis legal, and proved he could be an asset to the family name. kristoph always sort of resented it. and so, he’s not actually ashamed to say his first words were the usual ones. ‘ mama, ’ ‘ papa, ’ ‘ puppy. ’ that sort of thing.  siblings.  klavier gavin (   younger brother   ) .  parents.  oskar gavin (   father   )  ;  emilie gavin (   mother   ) .  parental involvement.  oskar and emilie were minor political figures in germany  ;  they had children more as attempts to maintain a family-friendly image in the face of mounting scandals than they did out of any actual, genuine interest in raising said children. as such, kristoph (   and later, klavier   ) was pretty much handed off to a series of nannies & otherwise left to his own devices. his parents’ actual involvement in raising him was . . . minimal. they died in an accident while he was completing his junior year of college. he played the part of the grieving son perfectly well, but he wasn’t really all that aggrieved about it. (   he always sort of wondered if the accident was an accident or if it was some political move, but to investigate that, he’d have to actually care about what happened to them.   ) 

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  defense attorney.  current residence.  a rather posh high-rise apartment building in los angeles. a rather posh solitary confinement cell.  close friends.  why, his dear friend phoenix wright, of course !  (   hah.   )  partners.  what, legal partners ?  uh, he’s got a student -- oh, you mean romantic partners ?  ugh. pass.  relationship status.  single. not looking. (   verse dependent.   )  financial status.  let’s just say he’s in a very comfortable income bracket. (   --- & how did he get there so fast, what with his parents losing most of their fortune to constant legal battles, leaving him to make money himself ?  best not to ask.   )  driver’s license.  yes. he doesn’t like to drive, though. he’s more the ‘ hire a driver ’ type.  criminal record.  prior to the events of apollo justice ?  clean as clean can be. too clean. suspiciously clean. after ?�� one count of evidence forgery, two counts of first-degree murder, one count of attempted murder -- and that’s only what we know of. 

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  bisexual / demisexual. maybe a slight preference for men, but functionally, it doesn’t matter -- he’s very, very demisexual, and it’s extremely rare that he’s actually genuinely attracted to someone. nine out of ten times, if he sleeps with someone, it’s going to have been because doing so conferred some kind of material advantage on him -- i.e., they had something he wanted.  romantic orientation.  biromantic / demiromantic. again, though, it tends not to matter, because it’s so incredibly rare that he feels real attraction of any kind towards someone. if kristoph is romancing you, it usually means he wants something from you.  preferred emotional role.  Submissive | Dominant | Switch |  Unsure preferred sexual role.  Submissive  |  Dominant |  Switch |  Sex repulsed libido. low. unless he actually likes you. then about average ?  turn ons.  if i answer this question, my kristoph muse will physically manifest IN my home and poison me with atroquinine, killing me within fifteen minutes of ingestion. turn offs.  unless he actually likes you, don’t try to make him be genuinely emotionally vulnerable with you. ugh. disgusting.  love language.  in the very rare case he actually likes you, he appreciates them all. however, he especially likes acts of service. he knows better than anyone else that pretty words are often lies  ;  actually going out of your way to assist him with something isn’t so surface-level to him, and is deeply appreciated.  relationship tendencies.  generally, he thinks they’re a waste of time & a potentially dangerous vulnerability. to be avoided. 

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song(s). i know i put my go-tos (   where i want to be from chess & choke by idkhw   ) on the last meme that asked a question like this, so i’m gonna try to go for some different ones  :  severed by the decemberists (   gonna leave you all severed   ) & nice day by the romanovs (   nice day for a murder !   )  hobbies to pass the time. playing the violin (   & occasionally writing a piece or two   ) , cooking, keeping journals, reading, taking walks (   usually with his dog   ) , shopping (   shush.   ) . mental illnesses. none that are formally diagnosed. he clearly has quite a number of problems going on in that head of his, but he would define them less as problems and more as strengths, so it’s not like he’d seek help.  physical illnesses.  other than being blind as a bat without his glasses, he’s physically healthy.  left or right brained.  left brained.  fears.  nothing at all. failure. being forgotten. being wrong. that he isn’t the best, always & at everything. IT’S OVER, KRISTOPH. YOU’RE NOT NEEDED ANYMORE.  self confidence level.  unreasonably high. you could say he has a bit of a god complex.  vulnerabilities. his academic intelligence and logic may be above & beyond that of your average person, but he never matured emotionally, so he still has the emotional intelligence of a child. his solution to fearing that he might not be perfect was to repress it until he had five black psyche-locks, for god’s sake. and it was his hatred of wright that blinded him to the idea that phoenix might formulate a plan that could stop him -- he saw wright as a naive idiot because of that hatred, and as such underestimated him. his inability to process or even acknowledge his own emotions means that he has no way of telling when his analyses are objective and when they’re tainted by how he feels about them, and his arrogance means he’s convinced they’re all accurate. so, sometimes, no matter how accurate his formula is otherwise, he forgets to factor in emotion -- and he miscalculates. 

Tagged by: @smoulderingsilver (   aaaahhh thank you so much !!   )  Tagging: again, anyone who wants to do this, consider yourself Tagged By Me. 

[alltidvinter]

i was tagged by @blobfishmiffy, ta, luv!

bold the facts.

Rules: Bold everything that applies to you and tag 10 people you’d like to get to know better.

appearance:

I’m over 5’5” // I wear glasses // contacts (nice way to say that I’m blind as a fucking bat, i feel ye, lennon, i feel ye so much) // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails (currently in eggnog-yellow) // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look (overall? i guess!) // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backward

hobbies and talents:

I play a sport // I can play an instrument (i know my way around the piano and i’m a trained singer) // I am artistic // I know more than one language (italian, english, a decent amount of french and the tiniest amount of german) // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe (i’m actually a pretty good cook/baker, it’s like my go-to adult skill, don’t ask me to drive, fix stuff or do math, tho) // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows  // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

relationships:

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend (hello, there! ❤) // I met up with someone I have met online (and it’s the coolest thing ever)

aesthetic:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days// I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors (i’m a Pantone worshipper) // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favorite season (i’m 100% dat basic bitch, gimme all those cinnamon scented candles)

misc:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle (and i will) // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote(s) (most recently, “let it be”, probably the best piece of advice I’ve ever received) // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower (SING IN THE SHOWER? i beg your pardon, i perform OPERA while i bathe) // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead (I’M TELLING YOU I AM, OKAY?) // I own at least three dogs

I tag: @feanoriel @wearingraincoats @ssimsass @helenaramispennfrazlair